Witch Way Did He Go?

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Witch Way Did He Go? Page 13

by Dakota Cassidy


  My eyes flew to the man in the bed across from Win as I huffed and puffed, and I realized in our scuffle, we must have knocked a plug from the wall. Without the aid of the machines, the frail man would die.

  “Malutka, you must be ready! Pay attention, sweet one. Do not allow him near Zero!”

  But Adam laughed as he inched closer, knowing a man was dying right next to him. I know I shouldn’t have been surprised. This was a man who’d allowed his child to suffer in order to save his hide. But as the man began to turn blue, his weak body thrashing on the bed, I knew I had to do something. I couldn’t just watch this man die.

  But Adam backed up and bent at the waist, picking up one of the plugs and waving it at me like a flag. “What are you gonna do now, do-gooder?” he sneered at me, his voice full of venom.

  My chest expanded and threatened to explode, and as I was about to attempt one of my infamous steamrolls to his gut, I heard Arkady scream, “No, Zero! Nooo! That is wrong body!”

  I blinked, caught completely off guard by Arkady’s words and unsure what was happening.

  “Malutka! Stop Win! You cannot see him, but you must stop him! He is getting into old man’s body!”

  Holy crab cakes, no!

  It was in that split second that I made a decision, one I might have battled longer over if not for the immediacy of the situation.

  “My lamb, you must steamroll now! Knock the plug from his hand. Save the old man!” And then he yelled another command, “Zero, stop!”

  I’m not exactly sure what or how long it takes to get into a body you plan to possess, but I’d sure like to see it one day, because as Arkady was screaming at Win and I was gearing up for a good old-fashioned head plow, he was still getting into the wrong body.

  “Go, Stevie, go!”

  On command, I bent at the waist, inhaled and rushed forward, using my head as a battering ram.

  “Belfry!” Arkady bellowed like thunder. “Belfry, get the plug! Plug him back in!” I heard Arkady howl in anguish. “Zero, no! Wait!”

  As I rushed Adam, hitting him square in the gut, every kind of chaos happened all at once—me plowing into Adam and somehow knocking that infernal plug from his hand, and Belfry, clearly revived, swooping over to plug the elderly man back in.

  Adam and I fell to the floor seconds after he dropped the plug, and I was on him like fried on chicken, my arms on fire, my legs riddled with cramps so intense, my toes were curling. But I had to keep him from getting to Win, and I had to get Win out of this poor man’s body before he ruined it forever.

  Sweat dripped between my shoulder blades, my entire body aching from the struggle, but I somehow maneuvered him to his back with a triumphant roar.

  Straddling his waist with my legs, I clamped my fists together and wound up, with the intention of bringing them down hard on his forehead, but Adam was too quick for me. He reached upward and grabbed my wrists, rolling me to my back, leaving me almost helpless.

  “I’ll kill you!” he shrieked, his face a mask of unmistakable rage, his mouth open wide, his spit spraying my face.

  “Malutka, use your feet! Rear up with hips like Win teach you!”

  Planting my feet firmly on the ground, I used all my strength to push upward until I screamed out from the burn in my muscles, but Adam had me, and he wasn’t letting go.

  “What do you want from me?” I yowled from a clenched jaw as the rush of my heart pounding roared in my ears. “Why won’t you leave me alone? Why are you torturing me this way?”

  Adam never faltered. He never even flinched when he seethed, “Because I can, Stevie! Because I can and I’ll never stop until you’re dead!”

  Then he cackled at my attempts to free myself as thick red lashes from the twist of my skin formed on my wrists from his steel-like grasp.

  I fought beneath him, twisting and turning, my breathing harsh and choppy, but I still managed to scream, “Let go, Adam! Let me go!”

  That was when he yanked me toward him so hard, I lost the grip my heels had on the floor.

  His eyes glittered, hard like bits of black coal, his chest rose and fell, his nostrils flared. “You interfering little fool! Do you really think you can stop me?” he seethed down at me, before he tossed me backward with the strength of someone far larger. “I’ll never leave you alone. Never!”

  I’m telling you, if there were ever a useless sack of potatoes, I was it. I floundered to the floor, flopping around dizzy and disoriented, the wind knocked right out of me, crashing into whatever was in my path.

  “Stevie! Stevie, get up! He will pull plug! You must get up!”

  Panic set in, panic and sheer adrenaline. Somehow, I clawed my way off that floor, my heart beating hard enough to push its way out of my chest, my every muscle like melted butter, but I rose on legs ready to give out.

  Adam had squirmed away from me, pulling himself on his stomach toward Balthazar’s bed, inching ever closer to disconnect the cord to the life-support machine. When his wide hand was but inches from the plug, I saw red.

  This man—this warlock—was a monster. He’d been allowed to go unchecked in and out of the afterlife for far too long, and I wanted him gone. I wanted him to hurt like I hurt. I wanted him to die a thousand deaths in agonizing, writhing pain.

  But for the moment, I’d settle for getting him away from that plug.

  From somewhere deep inside, somewhere primal and red-hot with hatred, I imploded from the inside out.

  With a screech of my long pent-up rage, I threw myself at his back, landing with a breath-stealing thunk and, reaching for his arm, I drove my fingernails into it, digging into his hard flesh.

  His scream of pain brought me deep satisfaction, but I wanted more. I wanted him to suffer—suffer and suffer over and over.

  Opening my mouth wide, I jammed my teeth into his shoulder and bit down to the tune of more satisfying wailing.

  Just as I wallowed in the sound of his agony, another alarm went off again—and Adam went limp beneath me.

  Or should I say, his host body went limp, and you know what that means, right?

  His soul was out of one body…and ready to find a new host.

  “Malutka, no, no, no! Balthazar is dying!”

  Using my palms to shove off Adam’s host body, I stumbled to stand, catching a glimpse of Balthazar’s heart monitor flat-lining, and felt my stomach drop.

  This was also my first glimpse of Win, or Balthazar, or whoever, connected to tubes and monitors, helplessly immobile. My heart constricted—and I realized Arkady was right.

  I shouldn’t have looked at Win.

  “Stevie! You must stop this—stop this now!”

  “Where is Win? Win! Where are you?” I screamed up into the room, tasting blood on my lip.

  “Win! Nooo, Zero! You must wait!” Arkady cried out. “Wait for my signal! No, Win, no!

  “Arkady, where’s Win?” I screamed, my eyes frantically searching for a soul I couldn’t see. But that wasn’t the worst of it.

  For as long as I live, I’ll never forget how Arkady’s next words chilled me to the bone.

  “Stevie! You must stop him! Adam is stealing Win’s body!”

  “How? I don’t know how!” I sobbed over the blare of the machine’s alarms, my head spinning. I didn’t know what to do. What should I do?

  Honestly, at that point, I could have collapsed. Not just from exhaustion, but from the sheer force of nature determined to see my butt whooped before it took everything away from me again. How the frickin’ frack was I supposed to fight a foe I couldn’t see?

  “You must stop Adam, Stevie!” Arkady hollered, his voice rolling around the room in an echo so loud, my ears hurt.

  Gripping the edge of the bed, I screamed in frustration, “I can’t see him, Arkady! What do I do?”

  “He is climbing into Balthazar’s body, Stevie! Bad man almost in body! We have to do something! Get him out of body! Think, Stevie, think!”

  But how? What the heck could I do? My panic swe
lled like a tide, rushing up to my throat and threatening to choke me. I didn’t know how to stop something I couldn’t see.

  “Zero, no! You cannot!”

  That, of all unfortunate times, was it finally hit me. Win was here. Here. As in, we were on the same earthly plane. Together. Finally—and by hell, I wasn’t going to let anyone take that from me.

  A warmth washed over me in that defining moment, followed by a swift shot of adrenaline. Suddenly, knowing Win was in the same room, knowing his spirit was here, gave me strength I didn’t know I had left.

  As the monitors screeched, as the blood drained from my face, as my legs wobbled and I could hardly breathe, I did the only thing I could think of.

  I visualized what it would be like for someone to climb into someone else’s body and I gave that hospital bed the shove of a lifetime, jerking it forward before pulling it back toward me with a white-knuckled grip.

  Tubes flew, machinery crashed, Belfry flew about the room yelling at Win right along with Arkady.

  “Winterbutt! Winterbutt! Winterbutt!” Bel screeched and flapped his wings

  “Zero, you must get in now! Push him out of way and do it nooow!” I heard Arkady cry out, but I was focused on Win—on really seeing Win for the first time.

  “Get out!” I screamed at Adam as tears flowed down my face and I climbed onto the bed, dragging Balthazar’s body to my chest, pulling him to me, angling his body away from where I visualized Adam would place his. “Get out!”

  I clung to this big, strong, totally foreign body, wrapping my arms around his broad shoulders and rocking him to and fro. Sweat dripped from my forehead, my eyes stung from more salty tears, my arms ached, but I didn’t let go. I wouldn’t let go.

  Everything stilled then—before there was a loud, horrifying shriek. A blood-curdling howl of rage that scored me to the core with the withering, dying sound of a demonized soul leaving this Earth.

  At least for now, anyway.

  Whatever magic Adam had used to still the machines must have evaporated, along with the mess we’d made as we’d brawled, because when I opened my eyes, everything was in its rightful place. Even the doctor’s body shimmered for a moment before disappearing entirely.

  I don’t know how, and I won’t ask why, but I was grateful I didn’t have to clean up the mess or explain why I was in a hospital room with a dead doctor on the floor while I rocked a man I didn’t even know in my arms, dressed in scrubs surely spattered with the blood of my enemy.

  “Win?” I sobbed hoarsely against the top of his head, my throat raw as he lay limp in my embrace. But I rocked him for all I was worth, closing my eyes again and urging him to answer. “Win, are you in there? Oh, goddess, tell me you’re in there!”

  A hand…a broad, cool hand…reached up behind me and rested for the briefest moment on my waist before it fell to the bed with a thump.

  “My dove,” a voice whispered, a husky, whiskey-dipped voice with a British accent. “About Thanksgiving dinner…”

  Chapter 14

  “Win? Oh, my goddess, is it really you?” I squeaked the words, still not believing they were real—that he was real.

  “’Tis indeed, Stephania,” he whispered groggily, entwining his fingers with mine. His grip was weak, but it was there. He was there—here—in a hospital bed in Chicago, Illinois.

  Alive.

  And he looked exactly like the picture I had of him and Miranda in Paris—perfect in every way, his classically handsome yet at the same time rugged features more vivid than I could have ever imagined in my head.

  I knew this was Balthazar’s body, but it had a different vibe to it with Win’s spirit embedded in his brother’s flesh. Yes, Balthazar looked exactly like Win, but this was no longer the cruel, angry man I’d met who’d wanted to take all of his brother’s money and claim it for his own.

  Bel flew directly at him, landing on his forehead and pecking his face with affection. “It’s you! It’s you! It’s really you!” he said on a laugh, making loud kissing noises.

  Win chuckled, lifting a hand to run his index finger down Bel’s tiny head. “Indeed, good man. ’Tis I. How fare thee, my friend?”

  Bel giggled and rolled down Win’s face. “Thee fares better than he has in a long time, chap. Welcome to my neck of the woods, pal!”

  “Thank you, chap,” Win whispered, his eyes smiling. “Thank you for all you’ve done. And you, too, Arkady.”

  Bel flapped a dismissive wing. “It was nothin’, right, Arkady?”

  “My friend,” Arkady said, deep and low, a hitch in his voice. “Arkady is so happy for you and my malutka. I will miss our chats by waterfall, but I am so happy. So, so happy.”

  “Bah! Are you crying, old man?”

  “I no cry. You cry,” he teased with a deep chuckle.

  And Win laughed with him. “I’ll always have time to chat with you, dear friend.”

  “Okey-doke, wing-ed one. Let us leave our friends to be alone and we go look at pretty nurses, dah?”

  “Dah!” Bel agreed, flying up near the ceiling and swooping down to the floor to skitter under the door.

  Climbing off the bed, I repositioned it and grabbed the chair from the corner of the room. I reached a trembling hand out to stroke his thick, dark hair, shaggy from lack of a trim. I couldn’t believe how beautiful he was to look at; how, even after being in a hospital bed in a coma while his life hung in the balance, his brother’s body looked healthy and strong.

  Yet, even as I marveled at how good he looked, I was still hesitant. I’d been tricked before. How could I know for sure this was really my Win? The man I’d spent two and a half years of my life with but had never laid eyes on for more than a few seconds? The man who spoiled me rotten while keeping me on the straight and narrow? The man I’d shared nearly all aspects of my life with?

  The man I loved so deeply, but had never believed there was a shred of hope we’d ever share the same space.

  How could I know this was really him, and not some cruel spirit playing tricks on us?

  Win pulled me to him, his grip ironically firm after such a horrible accident. “Dove.” He husked the word against the top of my head. “I call you my dove, and you eat food only a Philistine would eat.”

  I might have laughed out loud at how easily he read my doubts. Instead, I inhaled sharply, my eyes roaming over his handsome face, over the dark stubble on his chin, searching his half-opened sapphire-blue eyes.

  “What…what kind of food?” I asked, my throat so tight it felt as though it might burst.

  “Cheese in a can and cake wrapped in…” He stopped and coughed, pressing his free hand to his broad chest. “Wrapped in foil. It’s hedonistic.”

  “But everyone knows that about me,” I said, my words thick, almost choking me.

  I knew I was testing him, but I was too afraid to trust. I was petrified to trust this was really Win.

  “But does everyone call you a Philistine because of your twelve-year-old taste buds, my dove? Do they blindly suffer your love of My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding and 90 Day Fiancé? Do they know you have a friend possessed by a demon, who in turn has a demon friend named Coop? Do they know you accused Sardine of being unable to pronounce radicchio?”

  No one called Sandwich Sardine but Win. No one.

  I blinked back a flood of tears as my heart crashed against my ribs and every muscle in my body shuddered. “You’re here,” I whispered in awe, my fingers trembling. “You really did it. I can’t believe you did it.”

  With his eyes closed, he smiled weakly. “You did it, Dove. You saved me when I couldn’t save myself. You truly are a mini-spy. That was quite a display of just how fiercely strong you’ve become. You and Arkady and Bel were bloody brilliant.”

  I had so many questions, so many things I wanted to say, but I refrained. Surely he needed to rest.

  Leaning into him, I cupped his stubbled chin with my hand, using my thumb to stroke his rough skin. “No more talking. You need to rest. You just possess
ed a body, for gravy’s sake. That can’t be a walk in the park. We can talk about this once you’re better.”

  He opened his eyes and gazed at me, soft and warm. “No. I need to hear your voice right now. It reminds me my mission is accomplished. Besides, you’re practically a walking question mark.”

  “But I really can wait,” I teased, poking his arm (Win’s arm!). “I wouldn’t want to hinder your progress. This body…er, your new body’s been in a coma for a while. It’s probably weak. And anyway, I’ve grown used to waiting for you, Spy Guy. What’s a few days more?”

  When I’ve waited a lifetime…

  He smirked, making grooves on either side of his mouth stand out. “Now you’re just being obtuse. You truly can’t wait, Stephania. Who knows that better than I? You have a thousand and one questions for me. Ask away. If I nod off, we can finish this later. Deal?”

  I clenched my fist to contain my excitement. I did have a thousand and one questions, maybe even a thousand and two. “Okay, but if you look taxed in any way, game over, pal.”

  “You, my mini-spy, have yourself a deal.”

  I grinned down at him. “How, Win? How did you do this? Do you have any idea how afraid I was you were gone for good? Why didn’t you tell me about Balthazar’s coma?”

  “What would you have said, Dove? Would you have told me how dangerous the mission would be? Would you have warned me of all the pitfalls? Would you have discouraged me from taking such a risk?”

  I poked him in the chest, suddenly angry for what could have happened. “Yes! Do you have any idea how south this could have gone? You did just see Adam fight you for this body, didn’t you? If possession isn’t done at exactly the right time, you could have lost your soul.”

  He managed to lift a hand and press his knuckles to my cheek. “But I didn’t, Stephania…and now I can see your beautiful face in person.”

  My cheeks stung, and I know they turned bright red. I was anything but beautiful after a few sleepless days and a battle royal with a vengeful warlock.

 

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