by Jenn Bennett
“Please stay,” I called after her. “I need to talk to you about it.”
“And I need to go to Tambuku, because one of us has to get it running again.”
“I’ll come with you.”
“Don’t bother.” She got in her car and slammed the door.
That didn’t go well. Not that I thought it would, but it still stung. And it wasn’t over. Jupe stood silent, staring at the dust Kar Yee’s wheels kicked up as she sped away. When he turned to look at me, he wore a pained expression. He almost looked like he was about to cry.
“Please don’t be scared of me,” I said. “I’m still me. I still care about you as much as I did yesterday.”
“I’m not scared,” he said.
I nodded, hoping that was true.
“I’m not,” he insisted. “I guess I feel like Kar Yee. I just wish you would’ve told me sooner. It sort of hurts my feelings that you didn’t. I mean, you could’ve trusted me.”
“It’s not that. I was afraid and . . . I was ashamed of it.”
“You were?” He considered this for several moments. “I guess I understand. That’s why I never talked about my mom much before, well”—he waved a hand—“all of this happened over Christmas. Sometimes I wish I could erase that part of my life, too.”
“At least your mom is trying. She’s a very sad person, and she’s selfish. I don’t know if she’ll ever be okay or stop making stupid mistakes. And I don’t know if you should give her any more chances—”
“I’m not,” he said firmly.
I nodded. “That’s up to you. But I guess what I’m trying to say is that it’s a whole different thing with my mom. My mom is just evil. And really, really dangerous. She is beyond redemption.”
“Wow.” He turned away from the wind and kicked at a knotted cypress tree’s roots that bulged above the dirt. “This is the biggest secret anyone’s ever told me,” he said thoughtfully.
“I trust you.”
He gave me a funny smile, tight, but honest—as if he was surprised I would trust him, pleased I did, but still in shock about the whole thing.
I exhaled a long breath and glanced back at the house. “I need to tell you about something else. Remember when I once told you about my guardian, Priya?”
He nodded. “One of the sigils on your arm.”
I pulled a piece of paper from my pocket. “This sigil. It’s his name. And because you’re connected to me through our bond”—I nodded to his hip, where my own sigil was tattooed—“Priya is your guardian as much as mine. He can only stay on earth for a few minutes at a time, but if you are in trouble, you can call him. You’ll need Heka, and you probably don’t have much. You can try to spit on the sigil—”
He made a face.
“Oh, please,” I said, straining to eject a single laugh. “You know you love gross stuff. If the spit doesn’t work, you’ll have to cut yourself and spill a few drops of blood on it. But make a copy of it first so you don’t lose the image. Take a photo with your phone or something.”
“I just do that and your guardian will cross over to our world?”
“You just say, ‘Priya, come,’ and he will show up. Don’t be frightened of him. He looks like a boy, but he’s got wings.”
“Oh, shit! No way.”
“And he talks a little funny, but you’ll do fine. Don’t call him more than once every couple of days. He can’t stay long—only a couple of minutes, so you’ll need to talk fast. But you can tell him anything. You can even ask him to send me a message.”
“Why would I need to do that?”
I closed my eyes briefly. “Because I might have to leave.”
“What do you mean?”
“My mom can control me. It’s getting worse. I’m afraid she’s going to make me do something against my will.” I attempted to swallow the lump in my throat.
“But—”
“If I stay, it might put people in danger. I’m her puppet. When I tap into moon magick, she can control me.”
“So don’t. Dad says just because I have a knack doesn’t mean I have to use it. Isn’t this the same thing?”
“Even if I don’t use it, she can get me when I’m sleeping. She’s dangerous, Jupe. You are in danger by being around me. She’s crazy and she wants revenge against me. She will try to hurt you.”
Jupe was fighting back tears. “You can’t leave. Where will you go?”
“To my order in Florida. My godfather might be able to help track down the ritual my parents used to make me this way. Maybe I can use it to fix myself. I don’t know.”
“Just fight her,” he said. “You’re strong. You can fight her.”
“I don’t know if I can, Jupe. And I won’t risk putting you and your dad in danger.”
“Please don’t leave me,” he begged in a rough voice. “Please. Don’t leave me like she did.”
My heart broke into a thousand pieces. “It’s not because I don’t care. I’m leaving to protect you.” I wanted to assure him I’d be coming back—that I could pop down to Florida for a week, pop back up, problem fixed. But I couldn’t lie to him. Not after I’d just broken down and told him the truth about my parents.
He stared at me for a moment, eyes glossy and pained. Then he blurted, “He bought you an engagement ring.”
My body stilled. “What?” I whispered.
“That was the secret I told Kar Yee. That’s the reason Gramma accepted you. Because Dad’s going to marry you and we’re going to be a family and you can’t leave. You can’t leave us.”
Tears spilled down my cheeks. “Jupe.”
“You’re still going to leave, knowing that? How could you?”
“I—”
“I won’t let you!” He gritted his teeth. His pupils flicked back and forth like a pendulum.
He was using his persuasion knack.
“You won’t leave us. You’ll stay here. You won’t leave!”
I turned my head away, an instinctual reaction, as if that could deflect his knack. He’d never used it on me. I wasn’t sure how it would feel. But I knew it had to feel like something more than this . . . this nothingness. I looked up at him. It didn’t work. I could see it on his face, the way it fell.
And then it hit me. He’d tried to use it on Lon. On Yvonne. On me.
Dr. Spendlove, Jupe’s Earthbound psychiatrist, had told Lon that most knacks like Jupe’s have a restriction, he just wasn’t sure yet what it was.
I was pretty sure we’d just uncovered it.
“Oh, Jupe,” I said. “Your knack doesn’t work on people you care about.”
He made an anguished noise in the back of his throat.
“I’m so sorry.” I reached out to touch him.
His face twisted as he bellowed a loud, incoherent growl. He was confused and frustrated and hurt. So was I. And I didn’t know how to make it any better for either one of us.
He lunged and shoved me, hard. Shock ripped through me as I stumbled backward. Before I could recover, he was racing across the driveway.
“Jupe!” I called out.
But he didn’t listen. He just ran as fast as he could toward the house. The slamming front door sounded like a small explosion.
I fell apart, crouching at the base of the cypress tree. I didn’t think I could hurt any more than I did at that moment
Jupe needed some time to cool down. And he and Lon had to escort the Giovannis to the airport. When they were done, Lon and I had agreed to sit down and sort out a plan for Dare . . . a plan for Florida. And though I was too shocked to process it, I’d eventually have to tell him I knew about the engagement ring.
Right now, I was concerned about Kar Yee. I needed to make her understand, to tell her how sorry I was. So I headed to Tambuku.
On the drive into Morella, I kept an eye out for Dare’s black cars while my brain juggled its crowded contents, struggling to prioritize all my worries. Telly’s body. Dare. My mother. My serpentine form. Priya’s warnings.
Jupe. Lon.
An engagement ring.
I banged my fists on the steering wheel, screaming at nobody, nearly running off the road. I sobbed. Screamed some more. By some miracle I reined myself in enough to avoid dying in a fiery wreck.
Half an hour later, I skidded into a parking space in front of Tambuku. Our block was mostly quiet. Other businesses were open, but it was a quarter past four: not primetime for the restaurants and bars that outnumbered the other storefronts on this street. I didn’t see Kar Yee’s car, but she probably parked in the garage.
As the last trails of sunlight stretched over the sidewalk, I headed down Tambuku’s front steps. The door was locked. No surprise. We usually locked it when we weren’t open, even if someone was inside working.
“Kar Yee?” I called out. No lights. I flipped on the fishing float pendants over the bar and surveyed the room. The barstools, high-top tables, and chairs had been stacked against the wall in preparation for the paint-covered binding triangles to be redone. I called out her name again. No answer. I started to head back to the office; halfway there, I swung around to retrace my steps and lock the front door.
Someone was already opening it.
Shiny bald head. Glasses. Green halo. Expensive suit. Minion at his side.
Dare.
“Miss Bell,” he said. “So good to see you again.”
It took me several moments to find my voice. “I doubt that.”
“I was in the neighborhood.”
“Bet you were. You’ve been following me a lot, lately. I’m flattered you find my comings and goings so damn fascinating.”
“You’re always fascinating, my dear. Just concerned over your safety.”
“If you’re concerned as you were about Evan’s kid, Telly, then please don’t bother.”
“Ah, well. That was unfortunate.” He slipped his hands inside his pants pockets. “Frankly, I’m surprised you aren’t thanking me. He did rob this bar, did he not?”
“I try to avoid killing kids over theft. I thought you felt the same. You had me save several Hellfire kids from being sacrificed in that ritual on Halloween. Telly not worth saving, too?”
“Actually, no. Telly was a dangerous little piece of garbage who sold something that wasn’t his to half the Earthbounds in Morella.”
“You didn’t know it was him. That’s why you sent us over to Merrimoth’s that night.”
“If Merrimoth was my only Judas, I could punish him. The elixir’s effects aren’t permanent, you see. They wear off after a week or so. But when bizarre crimes started making the news here, I knew I had a bigger problem on my hands. Which is why I sent you out to Merrimoth’s that night—so you could bind him while Lon dug around in his head. If you’d just done what I’d asked, we might’ve narrowed down the problem to Evan Johnson a lot sooner.”
“But you would’ve still killed his kid.”
“Oh, I had Evan killed, too. This morning, near Los Angeles.”
Jesus!
Dare smiled. “If you run, I always find you. Remember that, Miss Bell.”
“Is that why you’re here? So you and your thug can teach me a lesson with a bullet?”
“No bullets. I’d merely like to make a deal with you.” Dare nodded toward his minion, a middle-aged man with graying hair and the towering, boxy frame of a bodyguard. “Beryl here is an Earthbound, as you can see. But he has some minor magical talent, much like Lon. He’ll be the one sealing the deal. I’d like a magical oath from you, once we’ve agreed upon terms.”
I really didn’t like the sound of this. I needed to arm myself, and fast. If I could make it behind the bar, I could grab my caduceus staff. Maybe if I could lure them into one of the binding triangles that hadn’t been covered in red paint, I could trap them. Fat chance he would be stupid enough to just meander into a trap, but I had to think of something.
“What kind of deal?” I said, backing up a couple of steps.
Dare mumbled something to Beryl. I didn’t like them conspiring together.
“I have some information you’re going to want to see. In turn, I’d like you to pledge your allegiance to me. I’d like to . . .” He considered his words, then said, “Well, I’d like to adopt you, in a way. Be your symbolic father.”
I laughed. “Father? Why in God’s name would I want that?”
“Let’s be honest—you won’t. But you’ll be willing to make a compromise to get your hands on what I’ve got.”
“I doubt that. Go on, though. Show me.”
Dare pointed at a briefcase Beryl held. “It’s a very important piece of documentation. Can Beryl walk it over to you? He’s unarmed. To prove we’re on the level, he’ll even walk into one of your remaining binding triangles. Feel free to bind him at any time.”
I hesitated. It felt like I was the one walking into a trap—not this Beryl guy.
Dare sighed dramatically. “If I wanted you dead, I could’ve shot you when I walked in the door.”
Beryl walked farther into the bar, holding up one hand in surrender.
It might shock the hell out of me, but I could bind him without the caduceus. And seeing how my life might be in danger, I had no qualms about electrocution.
“Say what you’re going to say.”
“No need to be snippy, Miss Bell,” Dare said, then sighed his fake sigh. “So, where to begin? Shall I start with the first time your parents tried to conduct a conception ritual and how miserably that failed? Or are you already familiar with the story of your brother?”
My heart stopped.
“Ah, not aware of Victor Duval?” Beryl came closer, stepping into the second binding triangle before me, as Dare continued to talk. “Victor was damaged goods, apparently. A little screwy in the head. Liked to dissect the neighbors’ cats.”
I flinched. This couldn’t be true. This was bullshit. I would’ve heard whisperings about this when I was still living with my parents. All the talk shows and exposés and books written about them—someone would’ve uncovered it . . . right?
“Rather handsome boy,” Dare called from the door. “Dark-headed, like you. No silver halo, though. Not at all magically gifted, which meant he was of no use to your parents.”
My gaze flicked to Beryl, who was stepping closer to the triangle right in front of me.
“Victor was eight when your folks finally gave up their dreams and drowned the poor child. I do believe that was the first time they killed.”
Shock rooted me to the floor.
“Members of their order thought it was an accident. Your mother made an impassioned speech in front of the congregation, asking them to never speak his name again, as it only caused her grief. Quite theatrical. They never claimed the body when local authorities found it. She even destroyed the paper trail proving he ever existed—birth certificate and all. The media would’ve pounced on that juicy tidbit, don’t you think?”
It couldn’t be true. Could it? Why was he telling me this?
“But your mother missed a couple of details. Would you like to see a photo of your brother when he was a boy?” Dare asked.
My stomach tightened.
Beryl stepped into the binding triangle. “That’s far enough,” I said. He halted and held his briefcase flat on one palm, clicking open the locks.
“Beryl,” Dare said, “can you please give Miss Bell what we discussed?”
That was a funny way to put it.
The briefcase popped open.
I tapped into the electrical current as Beryl reached into the briefcase. Electricity raced into me, then slowed. I tugged harder, suddenly panicked that my abilities had changed. That maybe while my Moonchild-self was strengthening, and my natural magical talents were weakening. It definitely shouldn’t be so hard to pull current.
Beryl’s eyes met mine.
Oh.
It’s hard to pull current when someone else is tugging on it.
The briefcase dropped to the floor.
Empty.
Beryl hel
d a reedy wooden stick in his hand. He snapped his wrist and it extended like a metal pointer, several feet long. Now it was a slender cane—some sort of weird magical staff.
I yanked on the current. Hard.
Too late.
He grunted as electricity crackled through the cane and shot out the end. But it wasn’t pointed at me. Why?
My chest restricted. My muscles seized. Pain shot through me. I clutched the flesh over my heart and glanced at the floor.
I was standing in a binding triangle that was now lit up with white Heka. I stepped to the edge. The moment my toe touched the painted boundary, the air crackled. An invisible force shoved me backward. I stumbled to the opposite side of the triangle and pushed with my hands. Heka fortified with electric current zapped me.
Bound!
I was bound I was bound I was bound!
I glanced up at Beryl. He smiled. “Gotcha.”
Dare laughed. “Oh, my. If you could see the look on your face right now. You really have no idea what you are. It’s delightful. Has no one ever tried to bind you? I’m so glad to be your first. Ironic, since you were the first to bind me in this very bar. Doesn’t feel so good, does it? Being trapped like a rat. Terrible on your heart. But you’re young—you’ll survive. And I’ve got worse things planned for you. Much worse.”
He turned around and opened the front door. Three beefy Earthbounds in suits shuffled into the bar. He said to them, “Beryl will mark you.”
The binding triangle was big enough to enclose a table—maybe five feet at the base, and another five to the tip of the vertex. I retreated, moving as far away from Dare and his men as I could go. Got zapped again. Yelped in pain.
“Oh, Miss Bell. The mighty Moonchild may possess every knack that ever existed—”
What?
“—but all the Æthyric myths agree that she has two weaknesses. First, her powers aren’t as strong during the day. And second, she is susceptible as any common demon to a standard binding.”
A whimper got caught in my throat. This couldn’t be happening. He was lying again. I blindly reached out and touched the boundary, crying out in pain when I felt the binding react. “I’m not a demon!”
“But you’re not human, either, are you?”