Kong wasn’t quick enough to avoid her. Brynna wrapped her arms around him and held on through the feeling of fire that built up and finally surrounded her. It wasn’t enough to make her change form, but it was definitely a wake-up call as to what a human could feel in the scope of torture. Instead of fighting the shield’s energy, Brynna went with it, letting her body take in the heat and magnify it. Her head filled with sound—the roaring of remembered flames, the face-to-face screams of the witch doctor—then she pushed and gave it, all of it, back to the vile human being within her embrace.
There was a split second where Kong’s eyes bulged and he forgot everything about where he was and why. His shrieks changed to an incomprehensible stream of noise as he flailed uselessly, trying to free himself. Sound and red light filled the room, and while to Kong it must have seemed like a lifetime, to Brynna his destruction took only a couple of moments as the heat inside her suddenly peaked—
Then everything was silent.
Brynna straightened and let her arms fall to her sides. What was left of Kong held its shape for a moment, then collapsed, sinking into nothing but fine and forever unidentifiable ash.
She turned. “Lahash—”
He was gone.
“Damn you,” Brynna hissed. Her gaze quickly searched the shadows, but she could see nothing without changing her view of the human world. No matter—she would have to do that anyway to kill the demons tormenting Cho Kim. With the witch doctor dead, the spell was broken and now Cho was groaning, struggling weakly against the tape wound around her. As vulnerable as she was, the girl had to be in agony, and it was only a matter of seconds before the nuisance demons realized they had the wrong girl. They might leave and return to Chul’s unfortunate daughter—bad enough—or they might decide they liked their current meal ticket and really dig in.
A hard blink and the oversized room shaded to red. Brynna saw a fast-moving silhouette dart beneath the stairs—Lahash—but hurried footsteps overhead made her ignore him in favor of obliterating the creatures clinging to Cho’s neck and hair. Four long strides put her next to the girl, where the two fat demons were crazily squabbling with each other over whether to stay or return to their original target, Jin-eun. They shrieked in stupid surprise when Brynna snatched them off Cho. With one fleshy neck in each hand, she leaned away from the girl and slammed the two beasts together as hard as she could, over and over, until they were little more than limp, stringy clumps of demon slop. When she dropped the mess to the floor, what was left liquefied and sizzled away into the cracked cement until nothing remained at all. Now both Cho and Jin-eun would finally be free.
That done, Brynna whirled and went back to seeing everything with human vision. Too late—Lahash was out of reach and a set of new problems was clattering down the stairs in the form of two Korean men she’d never seen before. Both wore suits, and the younger man led the way with a large handgun that looked impressively dangerous. For a fleeting moment Brynna remembered Toby’s instant, unfulfilled death—would she ever forget it?—but before she could try to conceal herself, the barrel of the weapon trained on her face.
“Stop right there,” he said in flawless English. He came down the last few steps and moved toward her, with the older man right behind him. “Who the hell are you, and what are you doing in my father’s building?”
Ah—this was undoubtedly Chul-moo’s son, and his companion could only be the old man himself. Brynna glanced toward the stairs, but Lahash had faded into the blackness between the boxes and junk stored beneath it. He would never be spotted by humans now, and she had yet to find out what his part was in the abduction of Cho Kim.
“I’m … no one,” Brynna said. She backed away from him at an angle that put the north wall of the basement at her back. He scowled at her movement, but at the same time the chair that Cho was secured to made a scraping sound as she tried to free herself. The young man turned his head to look at the girl and Brynna grabbed the chance to cross the last few feet, moving between the stairs and the two Koreans; they would think she was trying to escape, but what she was really doing was making sure they would never leave this room unless she wanted them to.
The one with the gun jerked back around and glared at her. “I told you to stop,” he snarled. “Move again and I’ll shoot you.”
“You must kill her anyway, Seung,” the older man said in rapid-fire Korean. “Look around. She has ruined all our efforts—the witch doctor is gone, the girl is coming around. The demons will realize she is not theirs, and they will return to torment Jin-eun.”
“The demons are dead,” Brynna said without thinking.
Seung and Chul-moo gaped at her, then the father’s eyes narrowed. “So, you understand Korean.” His tone grew harsher. “But how do you know about the demons? And how do you know they are dead?”
Brynna looked at the floor without answering. Damn, but she’d done it now. If they discovered what she was, it would put Cho’s life in danger—they would try to use the girl to gain power over Brynna and control her. They no longer had the witch doctor for spells, but there would always be another idiot ready and willing to take the dead man’s place. They would think she was just the one for that.
As if he knew what she was thinking, Seung turned slightly so that he could swing the gun in Cho’s direction. “I think,” he said slowly, “that she is a Good Samaritan. Someone with an understanding of certain things that are not common knowledge. Therefore, the question becomes not who she is, but how good she is. Will she do as we say, or will she prefer to see Kim Cho-kyon die?”
Brynna felt her lips draw back over her teeth. Sometimes these humans really knew how to push her buttons. “The girl is of no use to you now,” she told him. She lifted her chin in the father’s direction. “And your daughter is freed of her burden. You might as well let her go.”
Chul-moo laughed, the sound like gravel underfoot. “If what you say is true, then I have no use for either of you. On the other hand, I expect the police would have a great deal to gain by spending time with you or the girl, and I cannot allow that.” The corners of his eyes crinkled in cruel amusement. “Do not be so foolish as to think you can run. You are not faster than a bullet.”
Brynna opened her mouth to reply, but the sound of the upstairs door slamming open cut her off. A sudden shaft of light cut through the darkness along the staircase, followed by a voice with which Brynna was growing entirely too familiar.
Redmond.
“Police—hold it right there!” he shouted. He scrambled down the stairs with his revolver trained on the two men facing Brynna. “Don’t move!”
“Shoot him!” Chul-moo screamed. The change in the older man’s demeanor was so sudden and shocking that Brynna gasped out loud. “Shoot them both!”
Brynna had an instant—only that—to register Seung’s surprise and instinctive obedience. She leaped forward just as the muzzle of the gun aimed at Redmond flashed blue-white, and then a bullet bit into the right side of her chest. Pain, like deep, red fire going in and in and in, cut through her, all the way from front to back. Damn, it hurt. Still, she’d experienced worse, much worse … but she couldn’t ever remember being angrier.
The sound that came out of Brynna’s mouth was vaguely like an animal growl but more guttural, more dangerous. Seung squeezed the trigger again, but Brynna was already on top of him, and so full of fury that she barely felt the punch of the second shot that blistered through the meat of her right side and hammered the underside of one of her ribs. Seung yelped as Brynna wrenched his weapon free, then backhanded him hard enough to send him slamming into the rattletrap table the witch doctor had been using as an altar. It collapsed, sending the rest of its display of cheap candles and useless, trashy offerings to the floor; the tiny flames went out as the bits of animal bone, herbs, and paper mixed with the melted wax. Seung groaned once and was still.
Panicked, Chul-moo stumbled and swung around, but there was nowhere he could go, no avenue of escape. Brynna’s g
aze focused on him and she took a step forward, the spikes of misery reinforcing her rage.
“Brynna—Brynna, stop!”
She almost ignored Redmond. Chul-moo was a despicable example of humanity, and it would have been so good to feel the old man’s bones crack beneath her fingers, would have almost been a decent trade for the pain seesawing through her earthly body. He was unworthy of the gift of life, and the sight and smell of his blood—
“Brynna!”
She clenched her teeth and stalled the forward motion of her body. No, it was not her right to make such a decision, to pass the ultimate judgment even on someone like Chul-moo. Without repentance—and how likely was that?—his final destination would be the same whether he walked the path at his appointed time or she gave him an early push along it now.
Redmond had almost caught up to her now, with several uniformed policemen hurrying down the stairs behind him. Her face was inches from the old man’s, and she could see triumph and calculation in Chul-moo’s eyes. She couldn’t read his thoughts exactly, but she could pick up the gist: he would place the blame on his son and plead that he was only a terrified old man, then use the legal system to drag out any sentencing and trade his son’s life for probation so he could live out his own in peace with his miraculously healed daughter. He had never given any credence to anything beyond this earthly existence or the concept of retribution.
Such a foolish, foolish old man.
“Someday soon, you will suffer for your sins, old one,” Brynna whispered. His eyes widened as Brynna’s irises suddenly filled with a dancing red fire that only he could see. “There are many creatures that wait eagerly for your arrival … in Hell.”
As Redmond pushed past Brynna, Chul-moo suddenly gasped, then choked and grabbed at his chest. His knees buckled and Redmond reached for him, but Brynna beat the policeman to it. With her right hand, she reached under the old man’s armpit and lifted. Something no one but she and the old Korean man knew flashed from her fingertips and through his muscles; he gasped again and color came back into his face. The gaze he sent her was bulging and full of terror.
“Oh, no,” she said in an almost companionable voice. “Not yet. The time will come when retribution will be claimed, but first you must answer for your actions here.”
Redmond pushed her hand away, but now Chul-moo was standing under his own power. The policeman looked from her to the old man in confusion, then his gaze dropped and his expression changed. “Jesus,” he breathed as he jerked his head toward one of the uniformed cops. “Call another ambulance!”
Brynna blinked and looked down. Blood, lots of it, stained her dark-colored T-shirt in two places, spiraling outward like melting roses. Behind each dark red blotch was a deep thrumming pain that spread and joined in the middle until her whole center burned with it. “Crap,” she said.
More policemen hustled down the stairs until the room, so empty just a short time ago, was crowded with people. They clustered around Cho Kim and the two Korean men, gentle with the former, just short of cruel with the latter. On one side handcuffs rattled, while on the other, Brynna heard soothing words and the sounds of tape being carefully cut by someone’s pocketknife. Above it all rose the siren call of an ambulance, dulled by distance and the heavy walls of the building.
Redmond reached for her and Brynna pushed his hands away. “No ambulance,” she said. “I don’t need one.” She turned toward the wall, trying for privacy, but Redmond circled around until he was facing her again.
“Don’t be stupid,” he said. “It’s going to be hard enough for me to explain what you’re doing here. I don’t need you dying on top of that.”
“That’s ridiculous. I’m not going to die.”
“You’re shot,” he pointed out, then scowled. “Twice. I can’t believe you’re even standing.”
Still facing the wall, Brynna realized there was no way he was going to leave her alone so she could do what she needed. Fine—let him watch. Without saying anything more, she reached under her T-shirt and found the wound just below the ribs on her right side.
“Hey!” Redmond said in surprise. “Don’t do that! Just put pressure on—”
She ignored him and dug into the hole with her forefinger, hissing as fresh pain scissored through her muscles. Redmond’s shocked face flickered across her field of vision for a moment, then she hunkered down and pushed deeper until she felt the misshapen piece of offending metal. A twist to hook it with her fingernail, then she yanked it out. It came with a fresh pulse of blood; Brynna pressed her fist against it, warming the flesh until it heated and swelled, temporarily closing beneath her touch. When she pulled her hand out and unfolded her fingers to offer him the remnants of Seung’s bullet, Redmond’s expression would have been comical had she not been facing the ordeal of getting out the other bullet still lodged in her shoulder.
“No,” Redmond said. His voice sounded dull, almost mechanical. “You can’t have done what I think you just did.”
Brynna grabbed the detective’s hand and forced the bloody bullet into it. “Take it,” she snapped. “I’m not much good at patience right now.”
“I—”
“Don’t you ever shut up?” Whatever he might have answered sputtered away when she went after the bullet in her shoulder the same way. A few more seconds and she dropped a second gory bit of deformed metal onto his still-open palm, where it clinked against the other bullet. “There,” she said with finality.
Redmond stared first at the bloody bullets on his palm, then at her. “You need a doctor,” he said, but his voice still sounded automatic, as if he were only saying what he knew should be said but wasn’t quite sure why.
“Nope.”
The detective squeezed his eyes shut and gave a small shake of his head. “I can’t possibly walk you out of here like that.” He inclined his head toward Brynna’s arms and hands, where her skin was streaked in drying rivulets of blood. “Even your face is bloody. It’ll never fly.”
Brynna knew better than to ask why she had to go at all. Instead, she scrubbed the backs of her hands against her jeans, swiped at her face the best she could, then folded her arms tightly together in an attempt to hide the remaining crimson stains and the myriad of tiny wounds along one forearm. “This is the best I can do.”
Redmond stared at her for a long moment. Then without another word, he hustled her up the stairs and steered her into his waiting car.
Seven
Humans, Brynna decided, spent a lot of their rather short lives just waiting. She didn’t mind it, but then, she was immortal. When you had only seventy or eighty years, it sure seemed like a waste.
She’d waited at the police station—again—for at least two hours before Redmond was finally able to get to her. Unlike the first time, when he’d put her in the lockup, this wasn’t a game or some kind of ploy to make her cooperate. He wanted to talk to her—Brynna could feel it—but all the paperwork and details of Cho Kim’s rescue were getting in the way. It would be interesting to see how he worked her part into the story without looking completely crazy to his superiors.
At last the door opened and Redmond came in, his partner close behind. Sathi looked wary and almost as frazzled as Redmond, so he must have gotten plastered with some of the fallout from the case.
“How’s your …” Redmond hesitated, and Brynna hid her smile.
“I’m fine,” she told him. “A little sore, but that’ll pass.” She was quite a bit more than sore, but there was no sense complaining about it.
Sathi leaned across the table and peered at her arms and shirt, which was looking even more pathetic now that the blood had dried and crusted. The stains on her arms had turned dark brown, like red-tinted dried chocolate, and the skin was pocked with tiny cuts and bruises. “So Kwan Seung shot you,” Sathi said. He didn’t bother starting with small talk. When Brynna nodded, he pointed to her arms. “Did he do that too? The cuts? The burns?”
“No.” Brynna hesitated.
; “Then who did?”
She pressed her lips together, then finally answered. “The witch doctor.”
Redmond’s eyes widened. “Wait—witch doctor? There wasn’t a fifth person in that basement. Are you saying someone got away?”
He was already starting to rise when Brynna replied, “No. He didn’t get away.”
“Then where the hell is he?” Redmond’s voice was exasperated. “Where—”
“I destroyed him.”
Both the detectives stared at her. Finally Sathi spoke. “What do you mean, you destroyed him? Where is his body?”
Brynna folded her hands in front of her. “It’s gone,” she said truthfully. “It burned up.”
Redmond frowned. “There was no evidence of a fire down there. Nothing more than a couple of candles.”
“All that was left was ashes. Like dirt.”
“We’ll have to send a forensics team back down there,” Sathi said. “Damn it, that whole area’s been trampled. It’ll be a mess.”
“It won’t do you any good,” Brynna said. “Your forensics won’t be able to identify anything from what’s left on the floor anyway.”
“Evidence of human remains can be pulled from ashes. We’ve dealt with fire,” Redmond said sharply. “The team will—”
“Not from this kind.” Brynna’s gaze went from one man to the other as they stared at her again. Her voice sank almost to a whisper. “For dust you are and to dust you will return.”
Redmond briefly squeezed his eyes shut. “Tell you what, let’s just hear what happened. Your version—all of it.”
So Brynna told them. Well, not all of it—she left out the part about Lahash, just because she still didn’t know what his part in all of this was, other than to feed power into the witch doctor. The big question was why, but that was something these police detectives would never be able to find out. At the end of her tale, they were silent, and it wasn’t lost on Brynna that neither of them had taken any notes. Of course—they wouldn’t want a written record of what she’d just told them. Come to think of it, what a coincidence that the room they’d put her in had no two-way windows.
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