by Jen Ponce
SEVENTEEN
I laid Zech on the black couch, my brain swimming from the wavery air. Tytan hadn't set his house. Was he punishing me? Maybe I could set it. I focused inside, on the heart. I pictured the house as it had been once Tytan had normalized it for me. Humanized it.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?"
I stared at the plush silvery rug. "Trying not to vomit on your carpet."
With another curse, Tytan muttered. The room—the immediate space around me—settled. Thank heavens. I stomped over to him. "Why the hell did you drag me here?"
"Why the hell were you in Midia? You were pulling enough energy to blow up a small country. Do you think magic like that goes unnoticed? Why aren't you dead?"
"Oh, excuse me. Sorry I can't accommodate you on that one, Ty. And I hate to be a pain in your ass, but I have to get back to my kids. I need a shower." I looked down at myself, Zech's blood turning a dark rusty maroon on my nightgown. "I haven't had any sleep. I have work tomorrow. Today. Whatever." It was hard keeping my eyes on the settled bits, not the wavering ones. "Where's Nex?" I wanted to ask about Lucy too, but decided I'd better keep my mouth shut. Maybe he didn't know. Maybe he didn't care.
"He can't save you this time. I'm going to kill you. I don't care how valuable you are." His face was black with rage. "You dared name my formless one. You dare defy me over every. Single. Thing."
I wanted to ask Arsinua if I had enough power to take Tytan on now, but of course she was hidden somewhere deep inside me. 'Neutria? Can we take him?'
He is still too powerful. Mate but not kill.
Oh hell no. "Listen, I didn't get a rule book. I didn't get the Do's and Don'ts list. Kay? And I don't give a shit if you're pissed about me naming the poor woman. She deserves a name."
He slammed me against a wall, making my head ring. I shoved back. He moved an inch. An inch. Whoopee do. But he looked shocked. "Where did you get such strength?"
My eyebrows rose. "Don't mock me. I'm not in the mood. And I'm tired of you shoving me into walls.” He stepped back, his face mocking as he held up his hands. I brushed at my nightgown. “What's the big deal with the name? Huh?"
"She was a vessel. An expensive vessel that I am required to make. Now she's unfit to be used and I'll have to start from scratch.” He gripped my chin. “Do you know how hard it is to make a formless one?"
His shout hurt my ears and he was still too close for comfort. I was terrified and once again he was using his magic to make me horny and knowing that he could somehow generate those feelings in me didn't make them less real. I attempted to jerk my chin free but his fingers bit down. To one side I spied Nex.
"Help me out here."
Nex floated into view, looking as disgusting as he had the first time we met and yet very, very good. What he said next was even better. "You kill her and you lose what you seek."
Tytan snarled at him. "I shouldn't seek what I want. I should let it be. Kill her, kill you. Return my existence to normal."
Nex didn't look concerned, but I wasn't sure how concern would even look on a bodiless vampire/leech monster, so I guess I couldn't say for sure. "My queen. I smell her on you."
I swallowed. On me. In me. "She says hi."
"I doubt that." He floated closer, his pallid face glowing. "I see."
Tytan howled. When he did waves of the worst-feeling energy washed over me. I cringed against the wall as he lashed out, batting Nex into the next room. He whipped around to me. "That power inside you. You will use it to help me make a new vessel. Tomorrow night. If you don't I will kill you. Slowly."
Death threats never got old. The terror welled each time it happened. When being threatened didn't get a rise out of me, I'd probably be dead. "Fine. I'll help you. But let's get something straight. No more getting pissy when I screw something up. If you don't bother telling me the rules, if you keep me ignorant and I fuck it up, then no more threats. Understand?"
He slid up to me, pressing his body against me, flooding me with desire. "I understand I had better keep you under control or you'll be the end of me."
His lips were so close. The lust thrumming through me made me wonder what they would taste like. I fought off those thoughts but they muddled my head. Was that why he did it? To keep me off my game? "Why not leave me alone then?"
"No chance. You're mine."
I told myself to stop, told myself it was some sort of spell or lure that he used, but I still couldn't help lean in for that kiss ... and I fell into my bed, into the middle of the half-eaten cheesecake.
Zech fell with a thump to the floor.
"Fuckadoodle rex." I rolled to my back, chunks of cake stuck to my left elbow. Damn.
Zech moaned again. I sat up, brushing off the cake and crossing the room to him. He was naked but for his torn pants and he was handsome in a clean-cut, college guy way. Unlike Tytan, he didn't ooze sex, but I still gave in to the impulse to brush his hair from his slack face. "What am I going to do with you?"
Sighing, I glanced at the clock. Six fifteen. The kids would be up soon. Tom would already be awake, showering. I cleaned off the bed, piling the food on the floor to take care of after I had the house to myself. My super strength was waning, darn it, but I was still able to heave Zech into the bed and get him covered up. I then smudged the salt circle into the carpet and after making sure Zech was asleep, stripped off my stained nightgown. I stuffed it in the back of the closet before pulling on a robe and streaking to the spare bathroom. I locked the door and showered—slopping half the water on the floor in my haste—then slipped into our bedroom to find clothes.
Tom was sitting on the edge of the bed, half dressed. His expression made him look like a kicked puppy.
"Good morning." Red? Green? Skirt or pants?
"Is it?"
I made a face at my clothes in lieu of making one at him. "Rough night?"
"Come on, Dev. Give me a break."
Kay. Where do you want it? "I'm sorry if my anger makes you uncomfortable. I'm sorry that I can't forgive and forget. I'm sorry that this hurt me and you can't understand that."
"I know it hurt you, damn it. I know that. But the accident made me see what I did. Perfect clarity."
The bruises were discoloring his face, and wished I could feel something besides anger and betrayal when I looked at him. "I can't change what I feel to suit you."
"I'm not asking you to. I'm asking you to give me a chance to prove you can trust me again."
No way. I shook my head but he jumped up, wincing at the movement. He took my hands in his, pulled me to him. I didn't feel anything except impatience, a tug of pain. Nothing like the feel of Tytan's skin against mine.
Stop it, Devany. Stop it. Tytan is nothing. You shouldn't even be thinking of him. I concentrated on Tom, remembering how I'd felt about him in the early days, hell, even in the days before I'd found out he was a lying sack of shit.
"I'm sorry. I can't." I took my hands back and, holding my outfit, left the room. I felt callous but I told myself it was nothing less than what he deserved. He deserved to suffer the consequences of his actions. The damnable part was I had to suffer too.
I locked myself in the guest room and checked on the unconscious man. Poked him. "Zech?" Nothing. I shucked my robe then shoved my arms in my sleeves, my legs in my underwear and pants, still shooting looks at Zech. He would be hard to explain if he woke while I was downstairs getting breakfast ready for the kids. 'Arsinua? You there?'
He's all right?
'As far as I can tell. Any way to keep him quiet until Tom and the kids leave?'
Yes. I think so.
She spoke a few words, which tugged at the heart. I slipped the lodestones into my pocket to give out after I made breakfast. I set out four plates, making enough for all of us, even Tom. Wouldn't he be surprised? I didn't expect him to stay but he did, his subdued thanks at his plateful making me feel guilty. A little.
I put my hand on his shoulder. He looked up with an expression that a
lmost broke through that hard shell formed when I'd found out about his affair. "I can't promise anything."
For a moment it was like before, words passing between us—words we didn't need to say aloud to hear. He heard me. No promises. But not a definite no, either. If I shut him out, what would that be saying about the love I'd brought to our marriage? Wouldn't it make my love a little less real if I weren't at least willing to consider the possibility that my love for him could grow again? Repair the hurt?
He thought I did it for him. But it was more selfish. I did it for me. For my humanity and for the belief in true love. Maybe it was stupid. Naïve. If I didn't at least entertain the chance though, I risked becoming hard and cynical. I didn't want that any more than I wanted him to hurt me again.
Such a dilemma. Still. Time would tell, right? He would show his true colors in the months to come. Except for a homicidal demon, there weren't any other prospects on the horizon for me. I could wait. How long? I didn't know. I honestly didn't know.
I slipped the spelled lodestone into his hand and told him to keep it with him. He nodded and put it in his pocket. The protective circle snapped in place around him. It was a giddy feeling knowing I'd done that, I'd created that. He didn't even question it and I was glad. When the kids came down, I gave them each their stone too. Again, the circles snapped in place, and again they didn't ask me any questions. Perhaps that was part of the spell. The stone slipped into their life, unnoticed, unremarked.
With the circles in place, I could relax—a little. I was certain that the man who had tortured Zech would be gunning for my blood if he were still alive. I had to figure out a way to keep everyone safe, including myself.
After the kids and Tom left, I buried the five lodestones of protection in the yard. I hadn't done the tripwire stones yet, so I did them with Arsinua's help. Once done, I felt better. The dome of energy shimmered once in my sight then vanished from view but I could still feel its presence. Hard to believe that less than, what, a week had passed since my world had changed irrevocably? So little time and such monumental changes. If I hadn't been living it, I wouldn't have believed it to be possible.
Ordinary to extraordinary. And my, wasn't I being philosophical this morning? I finished cleaning up the spare bedroom, dumped the spoiled food, and vacuumed. Zech slept through it all. Cleaning done, I stared, with hands on my hips at the sleeping man. "What am I going to do with you?" I could leave him, but what if Tom came home for lunch and decided to move his crap into the spare bedroom? Urgh. I could take him to work and put him into shelter as an abuse victim, he qualified. But that would only work if I could wake him.
I sat on the side of the bed. 'Arsinua? Is he strong enough to wake up?'
I don't know. I'm not sure what the fleshcrawler did to him or how she healed him. I didn't know they could do such a thing. The only stories I've heard of them make them out to be destroyers, not creators.
'I'm going to try to wake him, then.' I sat on the bed next to him, bowing the mattress with my weight so that he rolled toward me. "Zech. Sleeping beauty. Wakey wakey." I tapped his arm, one of the few places the lash hadn't ripped to shreds. Those shreds, thanks to Nex's wife, were pale white scars now, the skin puffed but not red or angry looking. Her saliva was a miracle worker. What a fleshcrawler's poisoned bite might do to me, I didn't want to know.
Its effects will fade. Magic does not last in your universe.
'Yeah, but what about the heart?'
Oh. I hadn't thought of that.
Yeah. Magic might fade over here but the heart inside me was made of magic and connected, somehow to an infinite supply. Whatever Nex's wife had done to me would stay active.
My fingers curled into the bedspread when the realization hit me. Holy fucking cow. I was the super weapon that bad guys in fantasy novels quested over and heroes fought to destroy in order to save the world. I was the ring in Tolkien's books.
"Get a grip, Dev," I said to the quiet room. "Don't think so highly of yourself." Still, my stomach roiled as I shook Zech. "Hey, wake up." I prodded him again, but he didn't twitch.
Sighing, I asked Arsinua, 'Is there any place safe in Midia for him?'
It's a lot harder to hide a magic signature there. And Yarnell and his group have a lot of power. They could scent him out.
'They're that powerful?' I doubted. One of their own hadn't bested me—an ignoramus when it came to magic—so were they so powerful that they could find anyone they wanted at any time?
Our world works differently than yours.
"No shit." Her anger heated my skin. I muttered an apology, then said, "Tell me something I don't know. I know it works differently. That doesn't mean I have to believe that a group of evil people can do anything they want. There have to be limitations. You were scared of Neutria, right? This means there are things even magic workers like you should be afraid of."
Group work magnifies their power.
"Are they that powerful? Or are you scared after what happened to Zech?" I waited, waited some more for an answer before throwing my hands in the air. "Fine. Be that way." I stomped into my bedroom and found a pair of Tom's sweats and an old t-shirt, figuring I would have to wrestle him into them but when I returned, he was awake.
Zech! Thank the Glimmerlands you are all right.
"Arsinua is glad you're okay."
He didn't look like he knew who I was and as I was about to explain he said, "Thanks. For saving me. I don't know how you did it, but thank you."
"Yeah, well, don't thank me too fast. You might not like who you owe your life to." The fleshcrawler queen and her eerie smile popped unbidden into my mind. Blood sacrifice. Ugh.
His brow furrowed, and then he pushed himself up, revealing squared shoulders and a flat belly. I looked at the ceiling and tossed him the shirt and pants, then said, "I'll let you get dressed. Holler if you need anything." And please don't need anything. I didn't want to see him naked. I might think impure thoughts and then Arsinua would be pissed and boil my brains.
'Could you do that?' I asked, in spite of myself.
Do what? He looked well. He'll live.
The relief in her voice made me feel ashamed of ogling him. 'How long were you two together?'
Thirty years.
'Excuse me? Oh, right, your time goes slower over there than ours.'
The magic stretches the time. Some creatures live longer. The fleshcrawlers, we believe, have the longest lives. But they can be killed.
"There you go, then. If you can kill a fleshcrawler, then you can kill Yarnell and his group of loonies. Not that I'm advocating killing, because I'm not. We can stop them, though. Don't you people have jails? Prisons? Some sort of justice system?"
She didn't have time to answer, a thud and a curse interrupted. I rushed in to find him already hauling himself onto the bed, a sheepish expression on his face. He'd tried to get up and had tumbled into the nightstand. The lamp lolled against the wall and as I watched, slipped off the edge and fell to the carpet.
"I said call if you needed anything. You know, like help?" I rescued the lamp.
"I'm a guy," he said as if that explained it. "I didn't expect to be that weak. Of course, I didn't even expect to be alive so—" He looked up at me. "How did you save me?"
"Long story. Listen, I have to get to work and I want you to come with me. There's a domestic violence shelter you could stay in, until you're healed and we can get together and figure out how to keep you alive."
His face hardened. "I'm not hiding. I'm going back and challenging Yarnell before the Council."
He won't live to stand before the Council. Yarnell probably has a death warrant on him.
"Death warrant?" I asked it aloud and Zech paled.
It's illegal but effective. It's a spell attuned to a particular magic signature. The moment the spell recognizes the signature it releases—and kills the person targeted.
"Can you tell if one has been put out against you? Any counter spells?"
I don't
know! I'm sorry, I don't. That type of magic is an anathema to our kind. Most of our kind. I don't understand it.
"If you want to defeat your enemy, you have to have at least an idea of what he's using to shoot at you with, right? So we need to do some research. Are there libraries over there?" Frustration filled me. I was an eight-year-old struggling to finish a college exam and I wasn't a child prodigy either.
Zech had been watching me with great interest. "You're talking to her again, right?"
"Yup. She broke down, thinking you were dead."
"Ah." He looked down at his knees. Still pissed with Arsinua, I guessed. "There is a research center, open to all."
I looked at my watch. "I'm going to be late. We have to get going. We’ll talk about the research center later." I helped him off the bed and down the stairs. By that time, he was moving well enough he could stand on his own, at least. I left him leaning against the wall to get him some sandals, my purse and keys, and then we hobbled to the car.
We rode in silence. I was surprised Arsinua wasn't talking but decided to stay out of it. I had my own love life problems; I didn't need to meddle in anyone else's. Besides, how would that work if I got them back together? Would I loan my body to Arsinua when they wanted to ... my mind drifted at the possibilities until a honk behind me brought me back to reality. I drove through the intersection and pulled into work.
"I'll do your intake and I'll show you your room. Just keep your answers simple. Your loved one abused you. You're looking for a place to stay until you can find your own. Don't elaborate, okay? The women I work with are astute and they'll be looking for lies in you, anyway, because you're a guy."
"Doesn't seem fair. Men get abused too, don't they?" He said, wincing as he got out of the car.
"Of course. Just not at the rate women do." I watched him and then zipped in when he looked like he might fall into the gorse bush beside the door. I caught him around the waist and helped him in.