by Lori Adams
The fans are stomping against the metal risers. They demand more. Always more. More blood. More gore. More contestants. The dead are dropped through trap doors to land in three separate piles on the floor. The winners are extracted to wait their next turn.
Michael and I make it halfway around the circular walkway. He seems bent on finding his friend but instead he spots another familiar face at a side door. There stands Sheriff White, Bruce, of all people.
We make unusual, polite chitchat over the harsh metal clatter around us. It’s odd to see him in a place like this. I think about all that Miss Minnie told me, how Bruce is determined to protect his daughter. How he messed up his peace officer gig. I don’t blame him for trying, but he’s not equipped to survive a place like this. He’s taking a great risk being here. I tell him I know all about him and his family. He says ditto. And then he smiles. It’s a look that asks for forgiveness. I was tricked to work at the Gazette, but with good intentions.
“No worries,” I say.
I tell him I’m there to find Alice, too. He points to a block of VIP seats in the crowd. There is Baron Semedi, his wife, Maman Brigitte, some other demons I don’t care about, and Alice. Her partially shaved head and eye tattoos just over the ears seem right at home in this bizarre gathering. But she looks numb, worn out. And a bit bored. She’s been seated behind the others like a slave. Someone not wanted for her company. I need her to see me but I don’t dare wave. Attracting attention from her captors doesn’t seem like a good idea at the moment. Mr. White says that Alice knows that he’s there; she looks over every so often. We’ll just have to wait.
While we do, the fights continue. Six more contestants have been inserted into the cages. Mr. White tells me the winning contestants of each battle are continually rotated throughout the night in separate heats. They basically keep fighting until one winner remains alive. The last fight is in the center cage. It’s the main event and always an elaborate show.
Michael doesn’t seem interested. He’s searching for his friend and finally spots him talking to the bookies. “Babe, do you mind if I say hello to an old friend?” He looks pained, worried. I say, “Of course not,” and watch him walk toward a thin man smoking a cigarette in a wrinkled suit.
“There she is,” Mr. White says beside me, and I look to the stands. Alice is staring at me with a peculiar expression. I don’t know what to do. With Michael preoccupied, this is the perfect time for us to speak.
“Where does this door lead?” I ask Mr. White.
“It’s an exit,” he says. “I’m hoping to get her out through here. So far, she’s been too petrified to move.”
“I have to talk to her. Let me go into the stands. Up behind her so Baron won’t see me.”
He contemplates the options and eventually agrees. “Let her know that I’m not leaving here without her.”
I don’t like the determined look in his eyes. He doesn’t seem to have much of a plan. Just snatch and run. I’m thinking it’s his MO: flying by the seat of his pants.
“Let me talk to her first. She might have a way out, a place to meet up if she knows you’re waiting for her.”
“I am,” he says. “You tell her that. I’m always waiting for her. I’ll never give up. We’ll get her out. Somehow.” He’s nervous. Sweating. I don’t know how he got in here but he clearly doesn’t have much of an exit strategy. Maybe with Michael’s help, we can pull this off.
I move casually along the walkway, keeping my eyes averted. I mount the steps two aisles away from Baron’s entourage and climb up past their VIP row. It’s the long, annoying way around, where I step on feet and piss people off. I don’t care. I’ve got to come up behind Alice, out of view of everyone she’s with.
“Excuse me,” I say, squirming between a couple of lesser demons who give me the stink eye. They notice the faint glow of my Chelsea Light and don’t know what to make of it. As I move on, I hear them asking if a spirit walker can be disavowed. It wouldn’t make sense for me to be here if I wasn’t some sort of rogue spiritual entity. They aren’t sure, and I don’t wait around for them to ask me.
Pushing onward, I make my way closer. Something wonderfully gruesome happens in one of the cages because everyone jumps to their feet, jeering hateful calls to their favorite demon or disavowed fighter. Alice remains seated. She doesn’t cheer or talk to anyone. While the demonic glorification carries on, I sneak down the row, stepping on more toes and aggravating more people.
I stop behind her and lay a hand on her shoulder at the same time that I whisper in her ear, “Don’t react. It’s me. We’ve got to talk.”
She glances at Baron and Maman. They’re preoccupied, so she turns her head to the side and hisses above the noise, “Took you long enough!”
“What do you mean? Were you expecting me?”
“Of course! I knew you were coming to get me out. But why is Dad here? Is something wrong?” Her annoyance turns to concern. Whatever visions she’d had of me rescuing her from Baron and Maman didn’t include her dad.
“Well, no. He’s just here to get you out. We all are.” I watch her profile, waiting for a reaction. The creepy eye tattoo stares at me.
“They’ll kill him if they know he’s my dad. Or they’ll take him. Use him to keep me working. Get him out of here. Please.” She checks on Baron again.
“Michael Patronus is with me. We’ll get you both out.”
This startles her but she seems encouraged by the news. Apparently she didn’t have great confidence that I could do this on my own. “How?”
“Through that door by your dad. It leads to the outside.”
She considers things. “But that’s not the only reason you’re here,” she says matter-of-factly. “Something’s happened.”
“Dante took Ka and my soul to Hell. I need to get her back.” She turns and looks me in the eye. She expected something bad but not this bad. “Is there a spell?” I ask.
“Sophia, I told you how it works. You and Ka must be together to perform the Apoctastasis. I can’t bring anyone back from Hell any more than you can.”
Shit!
“But how do I get her back?”
“I don’t know. But you’d better figure it out. Fast. She’s too far away. If you’re not returned to your original state soon, one of you will begin to fade.”
“Which one?” I yell as the crowd goes wild again.
She shakes her head with a grave expression. “The weakest one!” she shouts. “It’s always the weakest one that fades!”
Chapter 13
The Temptation of Fate
We managed to sneak High Alice away from the fight circuit without Baron and Maman stopping us. They allowed her the small privilege of going to the restroom, that annoying human necessity they loathe, and we were waiting by the side door. Mr. White and I whisked her out while Michael slid into the shadows and destroyed the demon that had been assigned to follow her. When I asked how he did it, Michael just smiled and said, “Spine Cruncher, Patronus Special.” I had been too nervous to laugh.
I’ve been caring for Alice at Miss Minnie’s house all afternoon. She had been putting up a brave front but proved frailer than we anticipated. We’ve put her to bed. Miss Minnie is making a second batch of soup in the kitchen. Mr. White has gone to Hadley’s Market for Goldfish crackers, which he insists were Alice’s favorite growing up. While we’re alone, I tell Alice about the demon spy that Lord Brutus sent.
“Sounds like an evil dude,” she mutters and gazes out the window. She has spent six months in a private demon club with Baron and Maman. And another week globe-trotting to the underground fight circuits. I suppose there’s little that will shock her now. Her face has taken on the forlorn expression of someone who has seen too much too early in life. I don’t know what’s physically wrong with her. Or how to help.
“Sophia?” She sounds husky and slow, like she’s had a gravel cocktail. I offer her a glass of water and guide the straw to her lips. She cracks a smile but sounds weak. “I’m not t
hat bad, am I?”
“What’s wrong? Did they hurt you, Alice? I mean, physically? Are you in pain?”
She takes a sip and falls back heavily into the pillow. The gravel is gone from her throat but she sounds feeble and uninspired. “Not like you think. They aren’t too interested in sleeping. You know? Demons? It comes in handy for humans.” She works on another smile but gives up. “I don’t know when I slept last. Or ate decent food.” Her eyes become vacant and move toward the widow again.
“We’re taking care of that. You’ll be fine now.”
She doesn’t look convinced. I monitor her mood in silence. She exhales a deep sigh that seems to deflate her; she sinks farther into the mattress. I tug the handmade quilt up to her chin. It’s a patchwork of bright yellow flowers and colorful rainbows. It feels like an oxymoron against her sallow complexion, sunken eyes, shaved temples, tattoos, and eyebrow bolts. She turns and looks at me, blinking slowly. “I don’t know anything about a demon spy in Haven Hurst. Sorry.”
“Oh.” I can’t hide my disappointment, so I sit back in a chair and think. “Could you meditate on it? Would that help?”
She quirks her lips. “Maybe later. After I sleep.” I stand up, ready to leave her in peace, when she continues. “I told you to be cautious,” she murmurs through a yawn.
I sit back down. “I know. I didn’t realize Dante would actually take Ka to Hell.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about.” Her voice is growing thick with exhaustion, words sticking to the roof of her mouth. “I said be cautious, your soul mate is eager to have things settled between you. You weren’t cautious. You let…him…go…” She fades away, and it’s like slowly closing a book with all the answers inside.
Alice may be asleep but I’m jarred wide-awake. I do remember her warning when I was leaving La Croix. Dante had interrupted then and I never learned who she was talking about: Dante or Michael. Thinking back, it seemed cruel for her to drop that on me without explaining the details. I think a clairvoyant should be more careful when tossing around people’s private tidbits.
I lean closer and lay a hand on her arm. “Alice? Who were you talking about? My soul mate?”
She moans in her sleep and rolls her head to the side. “Mmm.” She takes a breath and sighs out a low mumble, “Happy birthday, Sophia. Now…go…home.”
—
I do as I am told. Sort of. After leaving Alice in Miss Minnie’s care, I stroll along the snowy sidewalks. The fact that it’s my birthday hardly registers. I have bigger fish to fry. I need time to mull things over. It seems that I’m out of options with Ka. If I don’t do something soon, I’ll find out the hard way which one of us is the weakest.
With Bailey gone on the ski trip, I have no one else to talk to. Michael vanished the moment we returned to Haven Hurst. Said he had some Halo business to deal with. Whatever that means. Since it is my birthday and Dad is probably waiting with a cake or something, I decide to go home.
As I round the corner of Hadley’s Market, I’m thrust into the bustling town square. Winter break is in full swing, and the park is taking the brunt of it. What remains of the carnival decorations will stand until the new year, but over by the gazebo, a loud explosive poof! sends a pack of kids scattering like mice. Chunks of ice fly in every direction, and I gather that Duffy has shared his fireworks with some local kids. He’s been known to blow up a snowman or two. Looks like his pranks will carry on after he’s gone off to college next year. I’m sure Mayor Jones will be thrilled.
I move along the sidewalk with a growing sensation that I’m being watched. I slow my steps and pay closer attention. The McCarthy twins are pulling their ducks, Mr. McCarthy and his twin—aka, Siegfried and Roy—through the park on two tiny sleighs. Mayor Jones has finally caught the freshmen who keep rearranging the reindeer statues into sexual positions, but is forced to abandon his lecture to hunt down the kids with the explosives. Abigail Monroe is dictating where and how Vern Warner should shovel snow from the walkway, how high the piles should be, and so on.
And there is Jordan the Leerer standing on the corner in his red winter jacket, looking at me. I stop in sudden recognition. He has been watching me. I can tell by the tightness around his eyes. Always, he seems irritated at me. Or by me. Always, there is a question in his eyes that I’ve never wanted to answer. I’ve taken for granted all those moments when I purposely ignored him.
Jordan has always been watching me.
I think back to the first time I saw him, standing in my living room with Casey James and his dad. They had come to help us move in. Jordan began his career as a professional leerer then, or maybe I’m wrong and he has leered before. I’ve always felt his eyes on me. While his reputation as a man-whore kept me at a distance, I’ve always felt him looking at me longer than necessary.
All this time, Jordan could have had a demon spy inside him and I never…
A shiver runs up my spine and gets me going. It’s only a block to my house and I suddenly can’t wait to get home. I need to think this through.
Jordan crosses the street ahead of me, moving diagonally in my direction. We’re matched step for step and reach the corner at the same time. I stop to let him pass but he doesn’t. He faces me with a sly grin.
“Hey, what’s up?” he asks. His friendly tone doesn’t match the tension in his eyes. Like always, he seems to be dissecting me, his eyes moving over my face as though searching for something. I know a lot of girls think he’s really hot, which accounts for his man-whore opportunities, but Jordan’s never done it for me.
“Hey, just heading home.” I toss out a quick smile and step around him. He blocks my path and I come up short. “What?”
“I don’t know. Looks like we’re the only ones who skipped the ski trip. Why’d you bail?”
“I never planned to go. I don’t ski.” I shrug. “Well, see ya.” I make another stab at walking around him. Jordan catches my arm and pulls me toward him.
“So, maybe we should do something. Just us.” He lowers his voice and tries to flirt. “Maybe a movie? What’d’ya say? Better than being bored, right?”
I find myself staring into his dark brown eyes with a mixture of fear and plain curiosity. Is it in there right now, doing all the talking? Has it been there all along? Watching and listening? Reporting back to Lord Brutus? How can I tell? And what do I do if I’m right? Kill him? Am I going to kill Jordan?
My hand instinctively moves toward my hip but there is no weapon there. I freeze in a moment of panic. Jordan notices and softens with an arrogant expression.
“Don’t worry. The rumors aren’t true. I don’t bite as hard as they say.” He chuckles at his own joke. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Jordan smile so smugly. “C’mon, let’s go to a movie. My treat.”
His inflated air of confidence is really annoying me. I jerk my arm free. “No thanks. It’s my birthday. I have to spend it with my dad.”
“Today is your birthday?” he asks with genuine surprise. “For real? Huh…I didn’t know. So, happy birthday.” He grins. “Well, if you want to make a party out of it, you know where to find me.”
“I won’t, so…see you around.” I start up the sidewalk and he lets me pass, but I hear him laughing softly.
“No, I’ll see you around.”
I stop and look back but Jordan is sauntering away.
I walk to my house wondering, What comes after? If I can prove that the spy is inside Jordan, what’s my next move? I would hate to kill Jordan just to destroy a demon. Sort of.
No, seriously, I’m sure his family would be devastated. And I’m not sure I can look Jordan in the eye and kill him, even if he is playing human hostel to some demon. I don’t know what comes after but it’s something I definitely plan to ask Rama the next time I see him. In the meantime, I’ll be paying closer attention to Jordan. Maybe if I catch him looking at my Chelsea Light, I’ll know for sure that he’s not all human.
I want to make plans to test my theory but my second
heartbeat starts the moment I amble up the porch steps. I stop and gaze around. No sign of Michael. Hmm. I stomp snow from my boots and then head inside. Sundance bounds over and licks my boots. He likes the snow. As I slip them off, I hear male voices coming from the living room. I dump my jacket on a chair and pad down the hall in my thick socks. I stop in the doorway. The first thing I see is a birthday cake on the coffee table. It’s glowing with eighteen candles and says Happy Birthdaaaay, because Sundance licked the icing and Dad tried to fix it.
Dad, Rama, and Michael are standing with their backs to a blazing fireplace. Their faces are shadowy but I can see they have strained expressions. Dad and Rama look a bit stunned, and Michael is a mix of worry and excitement.
Uh-oh.
“What’s going on?” I ask, moving cautiously into the room. I’m wondering if they’re being sentimental for my birthday or if they’ve discovered the demon spy. Or if they have any good news at all. And why Dad looks a little peaked. Michael steps forward and holds out his hand to me. I feel myself withdraw. What is he doing?
I won’t take his hand, so he reaches for mine. He clasps it tightly and smiles down at me. It’s his I love you smile, and I feel my eyes widen. I look quickly at Dad and he pretty much looks the way I feel, dazed and confused. Rama Kuan is stone-faced.
“I’ve told them,” Michael says softly. “Everything.” His eyes are bright and full of tiny sparkles that flicker like diamonds. His spiritual energy is simmering just below the surface.
“What do you mean ‘everything’?” I ask in a hoarse whisper.
“About us. How we are in love.” Michael sounds strong and sure. He has no reservations about what he’s done. I, on the other hand, have to push all my thoughts aside to make room for this.
I’m numb without a clue of what to say. My first impulse is to apologize to Dad and Rama but I don’t know what for. Hearing Michael say it again brings a strange noise out of Rama; he looks stricken and starts pacing. I can’t imagine what he’s thinking. I can only hope that he didn’t say anything about Ka.