by Kenny Soward
But she only needed about another magical minute.
The last bit was all about pride, because nothing worked an American up more than that. Gay pride. Country pride. Military pride. And Lindsey knew how to pull those pride strings, too. The American people were more alike than they even knew, at least from her perspective.
All she needed was their votes, for now. She’d need flesh later.
“Be proud of who you are,” she said, with a flourish of her arms. “We’ll be proud together. Thanks, my friends. And hope to see you at the polls.”
The crowd erupted, cheers going up like fireworks. People called her name, chanted it. It was a rising tide of humanity filled with so much passion that the noise of it made her dizzy.
She took Barry’s arm as he led her down the short steps to the waiting crowd. The cameras were going crazy now, people shouting and jostling to get a look at her.
“This way, Miss Walls.” Remi swept in, a damn life saver, guiding her and Barry through the pack to a side room where she could cool down for a minute before escaping through another back passageway to a garage where her limousine was parked.
Through the door, they were greeted by the cool air conditioning and her personal assistant, Zeta. In her smart business suit and hundred-dollar haircut, she was already going through the news feeds and smiling. “Great speech, Miss Walls,” she said, her brown eyes hiding a deeper red.
“Thanks,” Lindsey said with a smirk, becoming Azarah again, collapsing into a chair, exhausted by the excitement of it all. She almost wanted to go back out there and do something crazy. Talk shit about Tom Russell or Christina Kemp, her two primary opponents. But no, best to remain patient. Best to return to the shadows and allow her speech to permeate through the media circles. A brief glance at her phone and all her private feeds, the ones Lindsey shared with her political and business friends, she saw they were lighting up—off the fucking hook. She picked up the phone and answered some of them, still playing the part of an excited presidential candidate who’d just hopefully scored a big win.
When she was done, she said, “Did you see that bitch in the back protesting?”
“That was Missy Gray again,” Zeta said. “She’s from Brooksville, Kentucky. Brought a van full of people with her this time. They’d been pretty harmless until now. She’s spreading rumors that you’re a witch.”
Azarah’s eyes locked with Barry’s, and then Zeta’s, and they all had a good laugh.
Remi set a glass of pinot gregio in front of her. “Missy’s little gang dispersed through the crowd to do maximum damage, but we got to them before they could execute their plan.”
“Which was?”
“Turns out they had water balloons filled with blood, and intended to hurl them at you at a designated time. We turned Miss Gray over to the police on the presumption it could be human blood. I had someone slash her tires and cut her brake lines. They won’t be at the next rally.”
“Excellent work, Remi. What would I do without you?”
“Oh, probably lay waste to the land with storms and darkness.”
Azarah took a sip of her wine, rolled the liquid around in her mouth, and swallowed. Relaxation poured through her muscles. “Yes, it’s always tempting to take the easy way out. But that never lasts for long. The humans would eventually gather their guns and tanks. The ECC, the Templars, and the Scions would scream demons and unite the world against us. Can’t have that. It’s much easier to bide our time, wearing them down slowly. Win them over, if we can.”
Remi checked something on his phone. “Turu Corp’s shares are up.”
“Good. Good.”
“Sorry to interrupt, Miss Walls,” Zeta said, her expression flat. “We need to get moving if we’re going to make our plane home. You’ve got a live video conference interview with CNN tonight.”
Azarah tilted her glass back, draining it, then set it on the table with a clank. She sighed. “I suppose you’re right. No rest for the wicked.”
“Or the wicked’s warriors,” Barry added.
Azarah smiled.
Chapter 14
Lonnie and Torri ran through the forest on a deer trail that wound down through the loping hills and across fields and creeks.
“She’s lost.”
“No surprise there.”
“The woods have been at her, too.” Torri nodded to the ground. Lonnie peered down and saw a few drops of blood on a rock. “Probably not too happy with what she let loose on us.”
“So, you don’t control the woods? It’s got a mind of its own?”
Torri shrugged, her dress hanging off one pale, freckled shoulder. “It’s like raisin’ a wild animal as a pet, if you know what I mean. It’s big and furry and cute, like my wolves—unless it’s a snake, of course. And it mostly loves you. Maybe it even loves you a lot, but it’s still got its own nature. It still does what it wants and you’ll never know what that is until the second before it does it. Sometimes that’s a good thing. Sometimes bad.”
“Bad for my sister,” Lonnie said.
“Yeah. Now, my wolves and familiars, like Tavia, are bound to me. But the forest…” Torri held her arms out and lifted her gaze, red waves of curly hair falling down her back. “The forest always remembers when someone done it wrong. Hey, I think she’s this way.”
Torri pointed, and off they went, cutting downward through the woods. Lonnie marveled as the toughest underbrush opened up for them, trees and shrubs bending aside to make a little trail. Another half mile or so along, and Torri stopped to examine a tangle of singed boughs, leaves turned crisp from some kind of firing.
“The forest tried to kill her here, but she got away. I thought she didn’t have no power.”
Lonnie shook his head, thinking hard about how Makare could have done it. “She probably stole some drugs when we were high or not paying attention, which had been a lot lately. We’re lucky to be alive.”
“All right, so she got some power by using your drugs to weaken the barrier between worlds. Not surprising. Bet-Ohmans can be crafty and strong.”
Lonnie gave her a curious look as they walked. “What do you know about my family?”
Torri’s brow furrowed. Her eyes traced the ground in thought. “I don’t know a lot about Hell, but I know it ain’t exactly like people here on Earth think it is. I know it ain’t all fire and brimstone.”
“Parts of it are.”
“Sure, but there are cities, too, right? Yours is called Xester. That’s you’re home. The home of the Bet-Ohmans.
“Yeah, that’s where I’m from. My family is old. Actually, I’ve just started remembering it over the past couple of months because I was under a sort of spell before.”
“Your girl did that to you, didn’t she?”
“Yeah, but I asked her to do it to stay hidden from my sister. Makare killed my mother, but I’m not sure what she did to my father. I’m too afraid to ask. Honestly, I didn’t even know him that well. He was too busy with the family business.”
“Y’all had a business?”
“Yeah. Making war, mostly. That’s why my sister killed my mother. Mother wanted to change things. To unite the people of Xester for the greater good.” Lonnie chuckled at how ridiculous that sounded now. His mother had been a big dreamer.
“So there are people in Hell just like here? Regular folk?
“Sort of. Well, there are humans, if that’s what you mean. But the magic is different.”
“Azarah, the Turu Tukte, she’s your grandmother, you know.”
Lonnie nodded. “It seems that way. But I never knew her. She crossed to Earth way before I was born.”
Torri made a confirming sound, then nodded. “She’s here now, and she’s got a tether back to Hell. It’s like a power cable, only it’s invisible.”
“I’m not an expert on tethers, but I saw the one my sister had before Selix chewed through it.” Lonnie opened his jacket and pulled out his pack of cigarettes. He only had five left and needed to make
them last. He lit up and exhaled away from Torri. “Fucking crazy shit.”
“That was the first time you and your sister seen each other in a long time, right?”
“Yeah, and she tried to kill me. Some reunion, huh?”
Torri stopped, reached up and took Lonnie by the shoulder, then turned him to face her. In the early morning light, her earthy green eyes reminded him of Selix but in a completely different way. There was patience in those eyes. A deep, deep age. But there was a wildness, too. Maybe not on the outside, but buried down beneath the weight of responsibilities.
She smiled up at him. “I think you’re a pretty good guy, Lonnie.”
He shook his head. “Not really
“No. You get it from your mother. I can tell a mother’s son when I see one. I just want you to know that it wasn’t your fault. You know, about Selix dyin’. There wasn’t a thing you could have done to stop her. She had a quiet soul, but she was willful, too.
Lonnie choked a little, pretending it was the smoke burning his throat.
And then Torri rose on her toes and kissed him on the cheek. It was the sweetest a kiss could ever be. A soft, quick peck, leaving his head swimming with the scent of wildflowers.
Lonnie was about to say something, a thanks maybe, but a burst of gunfire ripped through the forest. There came another burst, and then another.
“Shit,” Torri said through pursed lips, bolting off quicker than a spooked deer.
Lonnie smashed his cigarette out with his foot and then jumped to catch up, taking long strides and a lot of chances as he tried to keep himself from taking a tumble. After a short distance, Lonnie caught fleeting glimpses of dark figures sprinting through the trees. Figures wearing assault armor and armed with rifles. His shoulders cringed at the thought that they might become targets for flying lead, but then he caught up with a panting Torri where she stood next to one of the black-clad commandos holding an MP5 sub-machine gun.
The weapon’s nose was pointing at something on the ground.
The commando glanced up at Lonnie’s approach. “Hey,” Bess Winters said.
Lonnie’s heart slowed its pounding, relief flooding his body. “Hey, Bess. How’s it going?”
“Not bad. Just doing a little hunting.” She gestured at the ground with the end of her weapon. “You lose this?”
Lonnie’s eyes settled on his sister where she lay wrapped up in tendrils of creeper vines stretching her tight. She was missing one tennis shoe, and her striped socks were bunched around her ankles. Her hands were gripped into fists, her eyes wide with a mixture of fright and anger, grimace locked in place by one of the creeper vines wrapped between her lips against her clenched teeth.
She was spattered with her own blood, even across her face. Beneath her, the earth undulated, clutching at her loose, bullet-ridden T-shirt like animated quicksand.
“It’s trying to pull her under,” Torri said. “It wants to take her back to Hell along with that demon.”
Whatever power Makare had regained, it was clearly waning. She was slipping under, inch by inch.
“Yeah, we sure did. She’s been a very bad girl.”
Her sister sneered, but that was about all she could do.
“She let loose some kind of demon in the forest.”
“Almost got to my tree, Bess.”
“Well, that ain’t good.”
“No, it ain’t. Got real lucky. If it weren’t for Lonnie and his gang, I’d probably be a goner.”
Bess nodded. “That goes for all of us.”
As they talked, Lonnie noticed more ECC operatives coming toward them through the forest. Not exactly creeping, but not making a lot of noise either, all except for two figures who strode confidently up. One was a big, well-muscled man with short-cropped hair and skin a couple shades darker than Lonnie’s own. The guy sported a finely-trimmed goatee that came to a point beneath his square jaw. His brown eyes critical and calculating as they passed over Lonnie and Torri. Lonnie vaguely recognized the guy as being in the room when Selix had died. This was the guy who’d argued with Steph Lark about the fate of the gang right after they’d saved the ECC’s asses back in Lexington. A real asshole, this one. The other commando was a statuesque woman with yellow hair pulled back into a tight ponytail and plain, serious features. Her eyebrows were the color of powder above her blue eyes.
“This is Alex Rios and Kristanna Bell. Two of our lead operatives.”
Lonnie nodded to the two.
The one called Alex peered hungrily at Makare. “Want me to take her out, Boss?”
“Back the fuck off,” Lonnie said.
The man shifted into a more aggressive stance, tightening his grip on his MP5 and raising the weapon just a bit.
“Stand down,” Bess commanded without looking up.
The man barely relaxed.
Bess raised her eyebrows at Lonnie. “I understand, she’s your sister, but I know there’s no love lost between you. So what do you want to do with her?”
Lonnie’s eyes slid back to Makare. He couldn’t afford to let her live among them any more. Should have killed her back in the Under River. But she was still his sister.
“Ain’t nothing you can do with her,” Torri said.
“Can you stop the forest from eating her?”
“I probably could, but I’m not going to.”
Lonnie nodded, understanding what she meant. His sister had somehow called a demon, or let one loose in Torri’s backyard, a move that could have killed them all. But as pathetic as she looked right now, Lonnie couldn’t justify lifting a finger to help her. Nope, not a single godamn finger.
Makare’s eyes had been ticking back and forth between them the entire time, her expression somewhere between fear and outrage. Perhaps a little bit of hope as well, especially when it looked like the decision had fallen to Lonnie. She probably figured Lonnie was too weak to let his own flesh and blood die. That he’d have to save her for the sake of their mother’s memory. But when she saw it wasn’t going to happen that way, her eyes turned to pleading.
Lonnie knelt next to her in the dirt. He could feel the power rolling off her, could feel her resistance. He could hear the vines creaking, smell the fresh churned earth.
Her limbs looked painfully stretched, every cord in her skinny body straining to keep herself from being torn apart.
And then there came a sudden shift in the ground. Makare cried out as her body hit the dirt with a thud and sank an inch or two. The creeper that had been wrapped around her mouth slid down to wrap around her neck, choking her.
“Don’t let it have me brother,” she said in a hissing, constricted tone.
Lonnie gazed into her pale, pink eyes, trying to feel something, some inkling that he might still care about her in his heart. But there was nothing.
He stood and shook his head.
Her eyes closed with finality. Tears ran down her temples to drip in the dirt.
“What’s going to happen to her?”
Torri folded her hands across her waist as if she were attending a funeral. “Well, I guess she’ll get pulled on down to the gate. Probably take a few days or maybe even a week. I’m not going to lie. It’s gonna hurt. Then she’ll go wherever they put demons in Hell, I guess.”
“You don’t know where the gate leads?”
“No. I wasn’t the one put it there.”
Lonnie nodded, feeling a slow anger boiling inside him.
Makare cried out again as she was pulled a few inches deeper. Dirt fell in on top of her, covering her feet and hands. Then her stomach. Soon, all that remained was her chest and neck. Her mouth opened, gasping for air. Her eyes had been looking straight up as she fought the wood’s magic, but at the last second they flashed over to Lonnie.
“Please, brother. Don’t let me end like this. I can’t…”
Lonnie only stared at her, his eyes hard, his heart sitting like a stone in his chest.
Makare closed her eyes and sunk. When all but a swath of her fore
head remained visible, Lonnie held his hand out to Bess.
The ECC commando lifted the MP5’s shoulder strap over her head, and she handed the weapon to Lonnie.
By now, his sister was completely gone, buried beneath the hungry earth.
Tears streaming down his face, he aimed at where her head had been and pulled the trigger. He did it for his mother and for every person Makare had ever tortured or killed.
He did it for himself.
The burst of rounds buried themselves in the dirt with meaty thunks, spraying chunks all around.
He half expected blood to seep into the divot he’d made, but there was nothing. He handed the gun back to Bess and walked up the hill.
Chapter 15
The trek back up to Torri’s left Lonnie filled with conflicting emotions. An annoying development that made him question his actions regarding his sister. He shouldn’t have given a shit about Makare, shouldn’t have cared the least little bit about her death. So, why did it feel like he’d done something wrong?
“That was rough, man,” Bess said, giving him a little nudge with her elbow.
“Yeah, it sucked. But she deserved it.”
Lonnie got out ahead of Bess and Torri and the others. He got out another cigarette and lit up, feeling the smoke bite the back of his throat on the first drag. It was starting to get dark, real dark. He’d never been in the woods longer than a few hours at a time, and that had mostly consisted of getting high in Rose Park. No, the darkness here was growing complete, so much so that he almost turned around and waited for the others to catch up. But then he saw the lights of Torri’s cabin just over the next rise and angled left towards it.
Maybe Torri was right and it was his mother working through him. Her influence on him that somehow gave him a sense of family, a sense of guilt that he wouldn’t have otherwise had. Just the idea of harming someone whose same blood flowed through their veins seemed somehow wrong, yet Makare had had no problems destroying her entire family to better serve her ambitions. Not only that, but in the end, she’d tried to play on Lonnie’s loyalty to save herself.