Isabel sighed as she finished, stretching.
She looked like Val.
Not my Val, not exactly. Not the twenty-something Recruiter, but the Pent Asylum student she was the last time Isabel saw her. The time I told Isabel-as-Val to get out of my room and never come back.
“You’re snarling,” she pouted. “You don’t like it? You used to like it very much.”
“It’s not yours, that’s the point.”
Isabel ran her hands over her new skin. “I only used most once, just to taste them like I tasted the boys. I didn’t like it, but I had to know. If I knew then maybe . . . but no. With this body though, you love this body. It was the only way I could make you love me.”
“What we did wasn’t love, even I know that.” Love . . . saying the word aloud to this batshit crazy bitch and I still haven’t even said it to Val, how fucked up is this?
“It wasn’t just about that though,” she ignored me. “About being her too . . . about . . . she’s so strong, King Henry. Just as strong as me, but so much more . . .” She grabbed at her chest, nails almost drawing blood. “I’m loose,” she whispered. “She’s all together, holding herself together, fearful and focused. Not like me, not like you, you’re . . . you’ll explode one day, King Henry, I’m so scared about what will happen when you do.
“That’s why I had to be her, do you understand? So I could understand it all. I can’t feel unless it’s me or with me or inside of me, it’s the only way.”
I’ve hated a lot of people in my life.
Isabel is one of the few I’ve eventually felt pity for.
Not Vega, not Paine, not Welf, not the Three Queens, not a single Divine.
But Isabel . . .
She was so far gone, so far beyond gone. No way to fix her, only one way to stop her and yet . . . inside of that there was an echo of Mom on those ‘Bad Days.’
Didn’t make what she did okay, didn’t excuse any of it . . . just meant . . . I don’t know. Standing there, hearing her, a lot of my anger got hard to hold. I’m not equipped with the emotional depth to explain it. But I think I got why the Asylum stayed their hand. Cuz I stayed mine.
Why did I do it? Why didn’t I just kill her?
If I just would have killed her . . .
But the joy of being right, of catching her and exposing her and the idea of getting some revenge for what she did to me, it all tasted sour real quick as I listened to that strain of madness playing beneath her words.
“Are you stuck like that now?” I asked with words again instead of throwing geo-anima manipulated death at her feet.
Eyes-without-irises snapped up, only without a star inside of them. “Do you want me to be? I can be for awhile still. We can remember what we had. Fierce and fast and fleeting, wasn’t it? To have more of it . . . I’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“Isabel . . . do you remember what you look like?”
She stepped away from me like an alley-cat unsure if a treat came with a cage. “I’m not crazy.”
“Okay.”
“And you didn’t like her. No one likes her. No matter what she does. No matter what she tries. They hate her! She’s weird.”
“Okay.”
“They made me be her!” she screamed. Not a fight scream or a surprised scream, but a full on I’m-being-killed-call-for-help kind. Just this explosively loud blast of words like her life depended on them. “THEY MADE ME BE HER! I COULDN’T BE ANYONE ELSE!”
“Okay . . .” I whispered.
What else are you supposed to say to this shit?
Trying to think about a way I could knock her out without killing her now. Since I’m apparently a softie on the inside. Fucking, dumbass. So what if she’s a crazy woman like your mom? Sure the fuck smashed Eresha to stop those Constructs, didn’t you? How’s this any different? She’s human? You’ve only killed one human and that was an accident? Pussy!
Knock her out . . . how?
All without getting my naked dick accidentally chopped off.
“But I’m out now,” she said in Val’s quasi-Australian accent that had long ago gotten washed out by California. “I’m free. I can be anyone again.”
I kept her talking as I tried to think, “Why Veronica Lee?”
“Had to be a corpusmancer. Had to be desirable. Had to be strong enough where my aura could hide itself down and Heinrich’s sister wouldn’t notice like the last time. Only way to do it, wasn’t it? So I picked her. Did you like her?”
“At school?”
“No . . . she was a bitch at school. Did you like me when I was her?”
Val’s eyes pleaded with me to say ‘yes’ in a way they never had before. It’s odd . . . you don’t think about it. How needy and weak desire can be. Val’s eyes had gazed at me in plenty of ways that made my heart skip a beat, but never with need. She didn’t need me. At least, not that kind of need. Not that cowering, pitiful need of the dominated. Val just . . . liked me. And cared for me. And supported me. It was in pushing each other to rise above that we made each other stronger, in pushing that we connected the most. No holding back, no trying to devour. The desire I knew from Val’s eyes was only one of exaltation.
No sucking.
No ravenous hunger.
What I saw in Isabel wasn’t a star but a black hole.
“Pocket and T-Bone were fans,” I hedged.
“I’ve never been with Pocket,” she admitted.
“I figured,” I deadpanned.
“Heinrich loves me as Veronica.”
“And when he figures it out like I did? When he looks at you like I am?”
“I have to be other people, King Henry. When I’m another is the only time I can be myself instead of all . . . all over the floor and the ceiling and . . .”
She shifted right back to Veronica Lee.
Snap.
Done.
The anima she must pool.
“I’m better like this,” she announced. “That wasn’t smart of me to go backwards like that. But I so wanted to please you . . . oh well. One day I’ll find another body you like again. Not her now, even if I like being her. You never like the ones I craft for you either . . .”
Okay, so you’re a pussy and you’re not killing her. Go team. But you still need to get her ass back in the Pit or you’re never gonna be able to sleep with another piece of strange without wondering if it’s Soto Crazy.
Veronica Lee’s face brightened. “But that’s for another day. You’re not interested in more sex I can see.”
“Nope.”
“You want to fight me.”
“I want questions answered,” I stalled. Where the fuck were my Cold Cuffs in all this mess? Got to be sure, got to fuck her, got to strip off all my artifacts! Now who’s the dumbass?
“Why Veronica Lee? Why Heinrich?” Isabel asked.
One body shift and she’s back to being coherent at the least. Crazy has officially arrived!
Crazy Town Population: King Henry Price.
Again.
The Bitch-Queen Fate had finally slapped me in the face for ogling her tits.
“For starters.”
“All while we’re naked?”
“I don’t trust you enough to take the time to put my pants on.” Although, if I had my pants on, I’d also have my GOB, that would probably distract her long enough for me to get a stun blast off with my SDR.
“Not very smart of you,” Isabel commented, “throwing the artifacts hidden in your clothes across the suite.”
“Not really.” I don’t even see my geomancer’s coat, is it in the other room?
“But you could only know if you were with me,” she said with an excited grin. “So, in a way, you do understand why I do what I do, yes?”
“Don’t give you the right.”
“Right? When did you ever care about right?”
“There’s civilization’s morality and then there’s indisputable natural law. King Henry’s Law says you bring a gun to a gun fight and I’ll
snap it in half and stuff it up your ass. Or, you know: Eye for an Eye and all that.”
“Snappy, but not so scary when I can see your ballsack thinks this room is getting a little too chilly.”
“Notice you’re doing a whole lot of philosophizing and not a whole lot of answering the questions that just might get us through the next half an hour without one of us ending up dead,” I threatened her, even if it was a hollow one.
Just kill her!
Easy!
No one will even complain.
Okay, Welf will complain. Ceinwyn will complain. The Lady will complain.
But only if you tell ‘em.
You could just hide the body . . . whatever it happens to look like at the moment.
I’m so good at keeping secrets after all, sure a murder won’t trouble me at all.
“Can I put on my dress?” Isabel asked, touching a small red piece of cloth on the carpeted floor with her toe. “Your underwear is behind you, by the way.”
I didn’t take a peek.
She smiled a bright, stolen Veronica Lee smile.
“Even if I don’t kill you, even if I don’t capture you, you’re still found out, Isabel.”
The smile twitched, uncertain.
“Genie is out of the bottle and all those other shit phrases, right? All I have to do to destroy whatever game you’re playing is to tell Welf or Vicky or anyone who Veronica Lee really is. ESLED will have agents here in minutes.”
She grabbed her dress with her toes, stood on one leg, and brought it all the way up to her hands. Once her foot was back on the floor, she slid it over her head, and pulled it down. It didn’t exactly cover a whole lot. She adjusted it to cover a little more.
“All you have to do is take two steps backward and you can do the same,” she told me. “Although I’d prefer if you didn’t, I admit. I do like seeing you like this. So strong and fierce and in your element. All those pent up muscles . . . do need to get at the crunches a bit more though.”
“I have thirty minutes of anima inside of me, Isabel.”
Her eyes widened in mock surprise. “Is that all?”
“What are you doing here? Last time I ask and then you go boom,” I bluffed.
“Your assumption about ESLED is that they even know I’ve escaped,” she clarified for me. “They don’t. Funny that the other me is so repellant that it never warranted examination. Find another ugly girl who looks close enough, cut her up so she’s even closer . . . simple. She doesn’t even have to be a corpusmancer since in the Pit no one has anima. Slip her inside. Slip me out. No one knows. Not for awhile at least.
“They stopped listening to my screams a long time ago. Why would they listen to hers about not being who they think she is? It will be months more before they even notice.”
“I know conjurations that will blow you into pieces,” I tried.
She nodded seriously. “I did admit you were strong, King Henry.”
“Then why ain’t you taking my threats seriously?” It was really starting to piss me off.
“I do. The one about telling Heinrich at least. Not the physical ones. Do you see any bruises on me? You punched me. You were very rough with me before that, quite the choke you had going. I was bruised, wasn’t I? Then I changed and . . . nothing. I heal very fast.”
“Not if you’re in pieces.”
“Underwear, two steps back,” she reminded me.
I didn’t care about my underwear. What I cared about was where my Cold Cuffs were at. I focused on my blurred memory from the last hour. Coat is in the entry room, pretty sure. They’ll be inside it.
“I didn’t fare well in the beginning,” Isabel told me a story, “but I didn’t lose hope until my one year anniversary in the Pit. That’s when I finally tried to kill myself. Just end it all, Isabel. Just . . . stop being you. You won’t be someone else, but surely being nothing is a better alternative.
“They never let me have knives. But I chiseled down a spoon so it was sharp and slit my wrists. Very bloody for a bit and it hurts more than one would think. But . . . I didn’t die. My veins and skin healed over and there I lay with my white clothes turned pink and red and still me.
“So I bit my tongue off.
“They noticed that. Wheeled me to the clinic they keep for the prisoners. Only . . . it grew back by the time we arrived. All the doctor was left to do was to clean the blood from my neck and face and to keep me sedated until the psychiatrist arrived.”
Crazy Town Population: 2
“Please, do blow me into pieces, King Henry,” Isabel said. “Part of me wants to know if I can regrow an arm or a leg. Will there be two of me, do you think?”
Silence as my bluff let a big stanky fart.
She’s a murderer.
She’s dangerous.
You tried to find another way.
Kill her.
Solve the problem.
Like Paine?
I thought about that. Maybe we’re all deep inside of Anima Madness, maybe that’s the truth. Maybe I was fighting it right now.
“You need help.”
“I’m better than I’ve been in years.”
Which is frightening.
“You need more help than fresh air,” I amended.
“I have help.”
Huh. There’s some information finally. Maybe this talking thing wasn’t total shit. “So you didn’t break yourself out.”
“No. Someone searched me out and selected me for a task.”
“Which is?”
“Spying on Heinrich. His parents more than him, but he’s the only way inside their circles.”
“Why not just get the real Veronica Lee to do it? Or someone else? Where’s Veronica Lee anyway? Dead?”
“She’s not fine, but she’s not dead. Perhaps if you’re good and you don’t tell the world that she’s missing, then she might be released once I’ve done my job.”
“You just took a hostage, Isabel. Think I give a shit about saving the hostage over killing the terrorist?”
She shrugged. “I think you care more than you like. Especially about us poor, broken, corpusmancer girls.”
Fuck.
Fuck the fucking fuckers of Fuckistan!
“Are we still going to fight?” she asked.
“Probably.”
“And if I beat you and escape?”
“You won’t.”
“Will you keep silent for Veronica Lee, King Henry? For what might happen if I have to fight my way out? One of your friends could be hurt . . . better to be silent, isn’t it?”
My teeth flashed. Rage built back up in my chest.
“Underwear?” she asked.
I made up my mind.
“You ain’t leaving this room. I ain’t playing your games. Maybe the Asylum failed you. Maybe keeping you in the Pit was even worse of them. Maybe they should’ve killed you. If I ever cure Anima Madness and you’re alive then I promise I’ll give you the treatment personally. But as is?
“I don’t trust you. Even more? I still hate you for what you did to me and Val all those years ago. So no . . . this foul mouth ain’t staying silent. He’s gonna knock your ass out. He’s gonna call ESLED. He’s gonna make the world safe from you.
“You crazy bitch!”
That’s . . . uh . . . when she kicked my ass.
[CLICK]
I woke up tied to the bed.
No Isabel in sight.
As Veronica Lee or as teenage Val.
Hard to check for this fact being as she’d placed my underwear over my head.
They smelled about as pleasant as her vagina had.
Getting why I didn’t bother spicing up the whole dog race now, ain’t ya?
Heart beating fast?
Mine was.
They broke Isabel out of the Pit.
Holy fuck.
All so she could burrow her way into Welf’s life and spy on his parents.
You fucked up, Price. Just all them emotions, man. Anger, used
to anger, could’ve dealt with the anger, had dealt with the anger and I wasn’t sure if that was the right thing to do now. More than anger and look what it got me. Pity and shock and disgust and . . . too many emotions for my damaged-beyond-all-repair brain to function under.
I hesitated.
I should’ve killed her.
So what if it’s the answer Paine would’ve come up with? I’m not some hero. Not ever gonna be one either.
I should’ve killed her.
If I could.
Fighting her with a hand behind my back hadn’t gone too well for me.
She dodged every punch like she was in the fucking Matrix. Faster than even Annie B. SDR went first, useless into the air, little sparkle of blue energy arcing for a home. Blasts of geo-anima came next, echoing next to her ear as she slid around me, but never into her face or body. Never even touched her. She was in charge of herself and I wasn’t. Somehow, mentally unstable Isabel turned it all around, made me the one weakened by too much information.
Tired of the ducking and diving, I finally grabbed at her. I managed to lock my arms around her waist, all in an attempted to latch on long enough to lay into her with a solid punch or elbow or knee. So what if she hit me on the way in? I was a tough guy. Sometimes you take a punch to dish some punches out. Just the way it works in fights.
Except . . .
Isabel hits about as hard as Jason does.
Maybe harder.
I fought her once before.
But this was another level.
She giggled at me as she twisted around in my arms, sliding against my chest. “Night, night,” she said into my ear as she flipped over backwards and suplexed my face into the floor. Straight up twelve-year-old-who-watches-too-much-WWE style. Just lifted me up into the air and right back down. Except, ya know, without the whole fake part.
It staggered me. Left me on my hands and knees, unable to rise.
I felt Isabel at my back, felt her dress ride up her body as she slithered along mine, up towards my ear so she could whisper into it. “You gave me no choice, King Henry, but I still love you.”
The . . . fuck?
“Just let me be Veronica for a week more and no one you care about will be hurt. Victoria and Heinrich will be fine. You’ll be fine. Pocket and Tyson will be fine. All I’m doing is spying, what’s so bad about that? Think of it as one of our school games, yes? It’s all a play on Heinrich. We’ll all laugh about it when it’s over, just like the old days.”
The Foul Mouth and the Mancy Martial Artist (The King Henry Tapes Book 5) Page 25