Soul Thing

by Lana Pecherczyk

  “But you aren’t, you never were. You’re a Player, a Nephilim.” Cash dropped the body and pulled a Swiss army knife from his pocket. “You’re not one of them. We should do the ritual now.”

  “Aaarrrrgh!” I threw a pebble at him.

  “Good, you’re angry. Hang onto it. It will protect you from feeling fear. Fear has no place in a life or death situation.”

  Right then, I hated him for making me kill her. I knew there’d been no choice, but I still hated him for it. It wasn’t like I sympathized with the witch, she bloody well spat fire in my face. But I mourned for the woman who was the host, and for the original person, before she became an evil witch.

  What would my future hold? Having super-secret witch powers had been kind of cool, but killing and fighting for survival was a whole different ball game. I’d stepped through the looking glass into a violent and desolate wonderland, unsure I wanted a part in the world at all.

  “Right now, I don’t even want to talk to you.” I wiped my eyes and went inside.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  I OPENED THE driver-side window of the Jeep and swallowed hard. Despite spending a quiet afternoon in my room, my stomach still churned and crawled. I’d avoided Cash completely and as a result hadn’t eaten. Instead, I’d swallowed butterflies. My hand rushed to cover my mouth but they still tried to escape. I concentrated on breathing.

  Sweet-smelling countryside whizzed by and giant trees crowded the road, blocking out the purple and pink sunset. The beach barbecue would be well underway. We were late, but hoped to arrive towards the end of the third course.

  “Pay attention to the road,” Cash snapped from his spot in the back seat.

  I closed the window and glared at him in rear-view mirror. He sat still, his face meditative, no doubt preparing himself for the night. He had dressed in black commando clothing: cargo pants tucked into black boots, black shirt, black Kevlar vest and an assortment of weapons cached throughout. He looked confident and smug.

  Tommy did not. He fidgeted beside me. His face had taken on a slightly green hue as he stared out his window. He didn’t have the stomach for the hunting game, he’d told me earlier. The approaching evening held no pleasure for him.

  “So, what’s this party like, Roo? What can we expect?” Tommy spoke quietly. The aesthetic opposite to his brother, he’d dressed in all white, his hair neatly brushed. His camera and press lanyard hung around his neck and his fingers clasped a bulging rectangle in his thigh pocket. He’d be dying for a smoke.

  I shifted in my seat. My jeans and camisole stuck to me, despite the air-conditioning. I was probably underdressed—the barbecue guests would be in dresses and fancy clothes—but I’d opted for the practical and had even tied my hair in a top bun.

  “Probie?”

  I glanced at Tommy. “Yeah?” I put my foot on the brake and turned a corner.

  “The party, what can we expect?”

  “Well, it’s more like a gourmet barbecue. There’s a celebrity chef, a celebrity MC, and quite a few gourmet canapés carried around by waiters. Then as the night gets on, a DJ plays music and the drunken guests dance in the sand to their hearts’ content.”

  “How many people are expected?” Cash asked.

  I shrugged. “I’ve never really counted. Up to two hundred. It usually sells out.”

  “What’s the layout like?” Tommy caressed his pocket.

  “There’s giant tepees in a semi-circle on the sand with dining tables inside that face the ocean.” I tapped my fingers on the steering wheel. “There’s not really anywhere Petra can hide, unless she plans to sit with the guests. The cooking and serving areas are out in the open. No, wait. There’s the servers’ tent. That’s where the waiters take the dishes, set up the canapés and stuff like that. Since this is the first year Urser Estate has supplied the wine, I can’t really say what Petra will be doing. She might not even be required to be among the wait-staff. I can tell you this, it’s literally steps from the water.” I caught Cash’s gaze in the rear view. “But that makes me nervous. Why would she want us there if she’s at risk? Something’s not right.”

  “She’s definitely planning something,” Cash said. “You two are just a distraction so don’t do anything stupid. If you have to, just subdue her until I arrive. I’ll get the information I need and then dispose of her. Drop me off here.”

  Tommy shifted in his seat and said, “I don’t like you doing this on your own, Cash. We should get some back up.”

  “You just worry about your photographs. I’ll be fine,” Cash said.

  I wasn’t sure I believed him.

  “Well, I guess this is a good spot to park as any.” We were at least two hundred metres from the beach parking lot, and cars lined the road. I manoeuvred the 4X4 onto the sandy verge and, without a word, Cash disappeared into the shrubbery. He would wait for the cover of darkness before making his way down to the tepees. I wish he’d told me more.

  Tommy and I headed toward the beach entrance. To the right, just below the shrubbery on the dunes, the dark tips of the tepees could be seen against the sunset. The number of cars surprised me. People usually caught a bus so they could safely drink and not drive. I’d only lived in town for a few years, but it was the busiest I’d ever seen it.

  I cast my senses over the dunes and caught the gathering below, a feat that demonstrated my burgeoning powers because it was at least a hundred meters away. I mentally high-fived myself. Energies spiked and pulsated with a languid melody. People appeared to be happy and vibrant, probably drunk on alcohol and life. In contrast, a cluster of sharp energy crowded the entrance to the barbecue. I wondered what the commotion was.

  “They look like witch’s hats,” Tommy said as we drew close.

  “Huh?”

  “The giant tepees, they look like witch’s hats.”

  “That doesn’t make me feel any better, Tommy.”

  A breeze carried a sweet, spicy smell mingled with garlic. My insides cramped at the mouth-watering aromas. I might be able to snag a few canapés from the waiters, if there were any left.

  The turmoil in the car park grew stronger as we grew closer. It definitely belonged to a different crowd than the beach side partygoers. This crowd was angry, wild and erratic. Shouting and chanting got louder and more hateful as we approached. Human silhouettes blocked the entrance to the path to the beach. The mob’s voices and energy rose above the crashing of the waves in an intoxicating surge of vulgar hatred.

  “Death to Witches.”

  “Burn them all.”

  “People first.”

  Like a bad smell, the thick and unrefined drone of energy brought on the need to vomit. About twenty people pumped picket signs into the air. Spittle flew from their mouths; combustion sparks caught in the dying sunlight. We stopped a few metres from the angry group. The Inquisitor, Meerkat Maggie and Captain Redneck stood at the center.

  Perfect.

  Tommy cursed under his breath. He pulled me closer. “They’re the ones from the hospital, aren’t they? Put your head down, maybe they won’t see you.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut and imagined my lion, strong and brave, prowling inside my ribcage, ready to pounce. Then I embraced Tommy and snuggled my face into his chest for comfort as well as discretion. A stab of panic pitched through me as he led me around the mob to where the beach path lay. Why were they targeting the barbecue? I thought Cash had sorted it out that morning. I couldn’t fathom the connections, it must have been all coincidence.

  Where you’re concerned, there are no coincidences, just ignorance. I scowled at my inner voice. It wasn’t helping the situation.

  We jostled past bodies and were halfway to our goal, when a voice shouted, “It’s her, the witch!”

  Rough hands yanked me from Tommy. People pulled at my arms, scratched me and tugged my hair. Pain sliced through my skin.

  “Tommy!” I called to the air. My brain shut down, my body froze. The crowd’s roar swallowed my scream and I was
immersed in sea of bodies. I couldn’t think of a single defensive action that wouldn’t reveal my incriminating skills.

  A gunshot rang out, echoing along the dunes. Everyone stilled.

  “Roo,” a familiar voice called. Jed. “Move to the walkway entrance. No one else move or I’ll arrest each and every one of you.”

  One by one, hands dropped from my body and I pushed to the edge of the crowd where Tommy and Jed stood with flaming faces and wild eyes. Jed’s Glock 22 pointed skyward and when he spoke his voice held a command I’d never heard from him. He wore his police uniform and cut an imposing figure.

  “It’s bad enough you people have nothing better to do, but since you’re on public property, you can lawfully protest peacefully—peacefully being the operative word. But mark my words, I’ve got the Tactical Response Group on call and I’m more than happy to charge each and every one of you with conspiracy to commit a domestic terrorism offence. If this protest escalates again, it will happen. This carries a penalty of up to twenty-five years in jail. This is your final warning.”

  Half the crowd protested, the other half murmured nervously.

  “Do you really have TRG back up?” I whispered into Jed’s ear.

  He shook his head slightly, he was bluffing.

  “You can’t stop us, we have rights,” someone yelled. “We have the Inquisitor on our side.”

  A few men slapped the Inquisitor on the back, causing a seismic reaction in his face fat. His beady eyes bored into me and he lifted his hands into a V above his head, in one hand glinted the gold of a saintly charm.

  “Join me in prayer, blessed believers,” he called. “Raise your hands and your voices, let us show this evil that we will not be shaken.”

  “Amen,” came the murmur from the crowd.

  “Step back, Satan, tempt me not with vain things. What you offer is evil. Drink the poison yourself. I abjure thee, creature of Satan.” His voice rang across the crowd and he made the sign of the cross. “Join me again…”

  I turned my back. I’d heard it all before. The words were hollow this time. I had friends in my corner.

  “Thanks Jed,” I said as he led us down the sandy path to beach where a string of pearl lights chinked quietly in the breeze overhead.

  “No worries. They can’t bother you down here, it’s been leased from the council as a private event for the night.” Jed pulled me in close and whispered, “Have you spoken to the hunter about the intelligence I gave you last night?”

  “Yeah, I did this morning. He said he was taking care of it. Didn’t he call you?” Jed shook his head, and I frowned. “Well, he’s here somewhere—” I clamped my jaw shut. Cash, the great communicator, might not have told Jed about our take-down tonight. “Has Cash mentioned anything about why we’re here?”

  Jed’s eyes flicked to Tommy and his camera. “Oh, does he have a press pass? You’ll have to show that to the event organizers. It’s got nothing to do with me.”

  So Jed didn’t know. It’s not something Cash would omit by accident. I bit my tongue and nodded slightly.

  “All right then, take care. I’ll probably be here until the protesters leave, if you need me. It could be all night,” Jed said and turned back up the path.

  The sky had become deep turquoise and navy blue. The low light played tricks on my mind and between the lion and the fluttery insects inside me, I was not in a good place. Shadows and people merged into one. I shivered in the warm ocean breeze.

  The witching hour—when things weren’t as they appeared.

  I grabbed Tommy’s elbow and led the way to the main event. I allowed my senses to look for Petra. Strangely, the echo of her signature bounced off each person and was hard to pinpoint—almost like a hacker rerouting his signal to avoid a tracer. Baffled, I checked again. It was definitely her. I recognized her vibrations. They’d given off a dirty, grating feeling that dug slowly into my bones, like fingernails on a blackboard.

  “Well, do you want to take your photos?” I asked Tommy.

  We stood at the epicenter of the feast amongst a sea of white wicker cane settees and giant wine barrels holding discarded drinks. The mood was cheery and light. Foodies took snaps of the gourmet delights and people bantered over the taste of particular wines and produce. A row of stainless steel barbecues separated us from the ocean and the tepees that curled off to each side were open so the tables inside could view the ocean. Laughter and music wafted through the area and I mentioned my surprise at such audible delights. Tommy didn’t respond.

  “Earth to Tommy,” I waved my hand in front of his face.

  He grinned down at me, revealing perfect white teeth and eyes sparkling in the soft light. “Earth to Roo, this is the bomb!” His warm hand enveloped mine and he pulled me along the festival lane, laughing.

  I followed him, receptive to the festival setting, his good mood and forgetting—just for a moment—our purpose for being there. I knew I shouldn’t let my guard down but Cash said we were only the distractions. A waitress lifted a platter of scalloped canapés as we walked past. She looked eager to empty her tray, probably wanting to start cleaning up. Tommy grabbed two and handed one to me.

  “Bottoms up.” He popped the whole thing into his mouth and closed his eyes “This is gold,” he mumbled. He pulled out his camera, adjusted some settings and took a macro shot of the last remaining nibbles, mumbling a quick thanks to the waitress.

  I put the treat in my mouth and savored the exquisite flavors. Maybe I did believe in God, and heaven was in my mouth. “Oh my, kill me now,” I garbled.

  He smirked and swiped another sample from the waitress. Then he cleaned off her tray. She looked grateful and disappeared, her empty tray hanging at her side.

  Full dark had descended and most of the mature-aged sophisticates sat at the tables while the vibrant drinkers filtered into the sandy clearing. The music changed to something more upbeat. The atmosphere punched me in the face. I swayed, unsure how long I’d be able to walk straight with the excess of energy in the air. It was time to move towards Petra.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be taking photos Tommy? You don’t have much time before it starts getting a bit wild in here.”

  “Wild is my middle name, Probie. Don’t go anywhere.” He lifted his camera, flipped the flash on and started taking snaps of random individuals, asking questions, turning his back on me.

  This was the distraction I had hoped for and, after my experience with the feral witch, I didn’t want Tommy close. I scoped the beach. No Cash. My vision blurred as a wave of energy surged from the dancers and I stumbled forward then hurried toward the strongest sense of Petra’s life-force. My steps faltered past the line of tents.

  I moved to the edge of the gathering where the beach stretched in dark oblivion.

  A voice snapped into earshot. “I’ll cut off your tongue if you speak another word, you insolent boy.”

  Having just passed the servers’ tent, I blinked and looked around. Ten more steps and I’d reach the roped-off barricade. My eyes narrowed and I strained to hear the voice. It came from behind the tent.

  “You can’t, you need it to remind you of all your secrets!” The child’s retort was answered by a loud cracking sound. Skin to skin.

  “There are other ways, I’m warning you. Shut your mouth, or I’ll do it for you.”

  “Pfft.” The kid blew a raspberry.

  I followed the voice. As I rounded the corner behind the servers’ tent, Petra’s aura slammed into me, staggering me.

  “Roo! You made it.” In the darkness, it could have been Aunt Lucy embracing me. Lavender wafted into the air on our impact. Their voices were identical, except the perfume didn’t fool me. A sickly sweet smell, like rotten fruit mixed with off-meat, laced through the lavender. She wore the Urser Estate uniform, a gray shirt embroidered with our gold logo with a gray apron covering her black trousers. She pushed me towards the light of the party and away from the darkness behind the tent where a small red-haired boy, maybe
nine or ten slipped into view.

  I raised my eyebrows at Petra. “You have a child working here?”

  “No dear, you must be seeing things,” she said. The lantern light flickered in her face as she turned to me. Her eyes morphed from Aunt Lucy’s to the devious witch she was. All pretenses dropped. “Please, sister. Walk with me.”

  This was it. I swallowed and followed her away from the entertainment, scanning the scene once more. Still no Cash. I sensed three energies behind the servers’ tent and hesitated.

  Petra turned around. “What is it?”

  “I thought you were afraid of the water,” I said, passing off my hesitation as something else.

  “I have an insurance policy. You won’t try anything and neither will your hunter.” She clicked her fingers at the tent. The shadow of a dog, with the energy signature of a witch, trotted out. When it reached us, I could make out its light brown coat. I thought it was a Bull-Terrior about mid-thigh. It licked its lips, sharp teeth poking out.

  “Are they all familiars?”

  Petra looked at me as if I were stupid. “You think I’d share you with another able bodied witch?”

  “What do you mean, share me?” Didn’t she know Cash had taken that witch from the outskirts of her home?

  “C’mon,” she said, and walked into the darkness.

  Okay, okay. I can do this. Following her, I ignored the soft white sand that filtered into my slip-on shoes and never took my eyes from her shadowy back.

  “This is far enough,” she said.

  I couldn’t see beyond an arm’s length until light erupted as Petra lit a small fire in a dugout in the sand, pre-filled with kindling.

  “Did you just—?’ I couldn’t finish the sentence. Pyrokinesis, too?

  “Tsk, tsk.” Petra shook her head slowly. “Do you know how long I’ve searched for a soul who can do what you can do? I could teach you so much, but there is no time, I’m afraid. He has moved our plans forward and I want to give you the opportunity to come to me willingly.”