“Well, too bad,” Pop spat. “It needs to be said. You know why? You’re more like her than you know. You always have been, long before you put that amulet on. Don’t know why I’m so surprised. I just thought you were better than that.” He walked over to the door and jerked his head. “Now, if you don’t mind. I have work to do.”
He stared her down, waiting for her to leave.
She walked out as if the hallway were the gallows. Was this just a metaphorical kick in the ass to get her moving?
If it was, he didn’t show it. He didn’t even look at her when he closed the door in her face, leaving her stranded in the dark, empty hall.
Aerie sagged against the wall, feeling more lost than ever before. If she didn’t get this thing off, he’d leave her locked out forever. As far as she was concerned, that was a fate worse than hell.
With one last resolute look at the closed door, she headed for her room. At the top of the stairs, a sound made her turn and look.
Jels, three steps from the top. Must be going up to see the boss. She froze. Seeing him, so fresh on the heels of having relived that awful moment—
Any other time, she would have turned and ran and locked herself in her room, waiting him out. Any other time she’d be a deer frozen in the headlights of an oncoming truck. Any other time she would have tucked back the anger and the hate and the self-loathing she swallowed each and every time, trying to separate herself from the inescapable past.
Those were things a victim did. She was damned sick of being a victim.
And she was still possessed. The sheen of blue flame roared over her skin, illuminating the dark staircase in an eerie cloud of demonic ley light. With a howl of rage, she launched herself at him like a bullet.
He sneered and ran at her, throwing a punch meant to knock her on her ass.
She grabbed his oncoming fist and pulled him off-balance, kicking his bottom foot out from beneath him. Holding onto the bannister, she squatted and chest-kicked him, sending him rolling down the steps.
He tumbled like a troll, his huge limbs crashing into the steps and the walls, until he landed in a dazed sprawl on the shop floor.
She chased him down, leaping the last few steps to land on her knees upon his chest, her hands around his neck, her thumbs locked like shears around his windpipe. It would be so easy to snap his stupid trachea, let him suffocate so he could feel what it was like to live a life deprived of air.
“I can kill you,” she growled. Dipping her face lower, she breathed him in. Skin. AXE body spray. Fear. It made her hungry. “I can kill you slow so you spend the rest of your disgusting life dying.”
Her face next to his, she tugged her thumbs apart, putting more pressure on windpipe. His breathing became strained. “It would be so easy. So easy.”
“Aerie!” Charles yelled from the top of the steps. She twisted her head, pissed off beyond belief that he’d snapped her out of it. So close to ending her misery, once and for all—
The flames dimmed from her vision, and in the nick of time, too. Looking up, she saw Greysen’s worried expression, his eyes changing color, hands readied for action. If he stunned her, Jels would pounce.
She couldn’t bear the thought of him overpowering her again.
She scrambled to her feet, backing away from Jels, from Greysen, and ran for the door. She yanked it open, much too hard and it crashed against the wall. Bolting down the street, she heard a muted tinkling of splintering glass hitting the sidewalk behind her, the clatter of the bells hitting the ground.
Run. Away. Now.
Her mind a stuttered replay of what nearly just happened, she ran for several blocks, until her legs turned to rubber and her lungs burned. Dropping down against a fence in the alley, she pulled out her phone, staring blankly at the screen. Cara was back in Philly. No best friend to bail her out.
She opened the texting app. Maybe she was on a break between classes. Maybe she’d say the one thing she needed to hear. She didn’t have a clue what that one thing could be, but Cara would. She always did.
Tapping open Cara’s thread, she saw unread texts.
I have a feeling about that Finn kid.
I think you should trust him.
Finn? Trust him? She rolled her eyes. He had even more skin in the game than she did. He wanted one thing and that was the amulet.
But if he wanted it, maybe he knew how to get it off. She could use that.
She pressed the phone against her mouth. She trusted very few people, and gave even fewer the chance to get close to her. More than personal space violation. It was a matter of vulnerability, of self-preservation.
How could she ever pull off faking trust in a person, enough to get what she needed? Maybe she couldn’t fake it. Maybe she had to close her eyes and leap.
That scared her, even more than knowing the thing inside her was eager to do very bad things and her inner walls were thinning with each passing hour. Soon, there wouldn’t be a doorway. There would only be a wide-open conduit and complete integration.
Yet this part was the truly scary part.
She dialed the one number she’d sworn she’d never call.
“Finn?” She couldn’t keep her voice from trembling and she didn’t care. “Come get me. Please?”
Thumbing the end call button, she sank all the way to the ground and gave in to the tears she never, ever allowed.
13
The charcoal Subaru SUV rolled slowly down the alley toward where she’d wedged herself into the space between a garage and a trash bin, her knees tucked tight to her chest. At the sound of the vehicle, she peeked out and spied him behind the wheel. He was looking left and right, searching for her.
Unfolding herself, she stood and stepped out, hesitantly, crossing the alley and waiting for him to stop. He popped the lock and she climbed in the passenger side. Without a word, he drove the remainder of the alley and looped back to the main street.
Driving past the strip mall, he rapped gently on his window. “Coffee?”
She shook her head.
He peered at the passing store fronts. “Ice cream?”
She shuddered, remembering what transpired the last time she’d gone in there. “Definitely not.”
“Anything? Or nothing, if that’s what you want. We can just drive around.”
That was something Cara would have said. It was generous, patient—neither of which were abundant in their interactions with each other to this point. She had no expectations from him—heck, she was still surprised he’d agreed to come down, let alone show. Guys had yet to prove they possessed the mythical qualities of gallantry.
And, yeah, she admitted, it could just be that she still had something he wanted—but the simple fact that he hadn’t just taken what he wanted was, in itself, undeniably gallant. It went a long way to ease the tension in her back that kept her sitting ramrod straight. “Thanks for coming down.”
“It’s no problem. You sounded pretty bad off.”
“Just don’t go thinking I called you here because I changed my mind. You’re not getting it.”
“Look. All I said was, you sounded bad off. I thought something bad happened to you. I only want to make sure you’re okay.”
She jerked her head to look at him. Again, that sincere expression.
“You don’t have a lot of people looking out for you. That’s rough especially at a time like this.”
That grated on her. That—that assumption that she was a nothing, with no one. “I have plenty—”
“Sure. Like your dad, right?”
She didn’t reply. If she were to open her mouth, she couldn’t be sure of what would have come out, hellfire notwithstanding. Being rude to him would have been a poor way to pay him back for coming down.
“So, why me? You have Cara,” he said.
“I do. But she’s back in Philly. At school.” She glanced in the back seat of the SUV. Backpack, laptop case. Some kind of barcode sticker on the window. Monthly parking? “What about you
? Do you go?”
He nodded. “Fifth year, at Wilkes-Barre MA.”
Explained why he acted like he knew everything. “Mage Academy, huh? Somehow, I knew you’d be an Ivy Leaguer. Off today?”
“Not really.”
Oh. She chewed her lip. He skipped class. For her. Just because she called. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”
“Don’t mention it,” he said. “Some things are more important than classes. Those, I can make up.”
“That place any good?” He pointed at a roadside marquee, its message an eclectic mix of mismatched letters.
The restaurant looked like it had been time-travelled from a 70s family-owned amusement park, the Alpine roof with its wide wooden shingles decorated with hand-painted cartoon cheese wedges, dressed in smiling faces and hiking boots.
And the owners weren’t even wizards. They were just hokey. And super into cheese.
“The Cheese Wheel?” She shrugged. “Yeah, I guess, if you like cheese.”
“Who doesn’t? All the best comfort food has cheese in it, right?”
She made an agreeable sound. Wasn’t ice cream, but it was a close second. Their Bavarian-style mac and cheese was as far from Kraft out of the box as a person could get, but maybe that was just what she needed: comfort food of a whole new variety.
And if there was one thing she desperately needed, it was a change.
He cast a portable barrier on her, just enough of a glamor to hide the visual evidence of demonic ley. The chakra stone kept a wall between her psyche and that of the spirit, but it couldn’t completely mask the shimmer of her skin, the unhealthy glint in her eyes. Better to hide it than invite questions.
They sat in a corner booth, away from the thin crowd. September meant everyone was back in school and the patronage was once more retirees and working folk on their afternoon off. While they waited for the waitress to bring their orders, she talked. Non-stop, pretty much, like some gabby teenager on a nervous first date.
Not that he was date material. She’d made that assessment long ago. She didn’t consider herself date material, which was probably why she didn’t think he was, either. No one was, as far as she was concerned.
But he was a good listener. Had to give him that. By the time the waitress set their plates down, she was ready to admit she made the right choice by calling him.
He listened to all of it—the wand repo, the thing with Jels after, the hints of things with Jels before—
Kind of nauseating, really, she thought, but her mouth just kept right on going. There was no reason he wanted to hear her life story or even just the chapters on that creep but it was the only other common ground she had with him, besides the amulet, and she didn’t want to talk about that. She just wanted a connection. An unloading, even if it was to the kid who had an agenda all his own.
Comfort was thin and opportunities were scarce now that Cara was back at college. She should be tougher. She had this amulet, and all the power within it. She should be stronger.
But today—just, no. Just tired of pretending.
And he didn’t pick on her, or make disparaging comments, or turn it against her, or make her feel worthless. He just listened, and made the right comments at the right time, and offered her part of his grilled cheese sandwich.
When she ran out of things to say, she stared down at her bowl and pushed the pasta around with her fork.
Finn sat back in the booth, poking his ice cubes around with a straw. They clicked and sloshed in the vintage plastic tumbler, the scratched and faded remnants of the RC cola logo. “I see now.”
“See what?”
“You’re not afraid,” he said. “You’re not weak. You’re just…”
“What?” She straightened, tightened, readied a retort. “A girl?”
“A good person. That first day, I thought you were some brute squad broad. I was worried.”
“Worried?” She snorted and relaxed her guard a little. “Heh. I knew it.”
He scowled good-naturedly at her. “A little. I’m a wizard, not a warrior. You’re both.”
“What can I say? Girls rule, boys drool.”
“Especially that guy?”
The joking mood dimmed as if someone covered up the sun. The waitress appeared with refills and polite chatter, mainly directed at Finn. Aerie was glad for the distraction and the chance to bolster herself enough to get the truth out.
“Especially that guy,” she said.
“You really hate him, don’t you?”
She studied the pattern of orange and rust-colored cubes decorating the edge of Finn’s empty plate. “Yeah.”
“Because you don’t hate him.”
Her throat squeezed. “Yeah.”
“It’s okay to be hurt.” He pushed the plate aside and rested his forearms on the table, trying to get into her line of sight.
“I’m not—”
“You are,” he said. “And, it’s okay. It’s not a weakness to admit you have feelings.”
“Oh, that’s a great idea.” She gave him a look of complete exasperation. He didn’t get her at all. “I’ll rebrand myself as the Sensitive Repo Man. Should make work easier once that gets out.”
“You don’t have to be the repo man.”
“It’s what Pop wants.” She punctuated each word with a tap of her palm on the table, her rings clacking.
“Then maybe you just don’t know your dad.” Finn shrugged.
“Maybe I do, considering he’s more than familiar with Asmodeus amulets.” She snapped her mouth shut, too late.
Finn’s expression shifted.
She blew out a breath. “I just—I’m so confused.”
He was quiet a while, perhaps processing the intel she just slipped. “I think what you need to do is get-unpossessed. Then you can decide what to do. Your will can be your own again. But…I don’t think you should tell your father. If he had any part of this, once it’s off you, he won’t have anything to stop him from taking it back. And until you know everything you can know—from him, yes, but from me, too…” His eyes were deep with sadness, his voice urgent and desperate. “You have to know everything before you decide.”
“I want it off. I do.” She toyed with the edge of her napkin, hesitating. “But, I gotta admit. It makes things easier. Doing my job, dealing with him…”
“You know magic has a price.”
There was steel in her gaze and in her voice when she replied. “Everything I’ve ever done had a price.”
“But you’re not paying this one.”
She nodded and forked up a mouthful of macaroni. It was hard to swallow and she needed a big gulp of iced tea to get it down. “I know. I can feel it. I just don’t know what to do. I don’t want to ask Pop—”
“Definitely don’t ask him.”
“Can you…? I mean, would you help? I don’t have any clue what to do.” She put her fork down and rubbed her face with both hands, groaning. “I fricking hate asking you for help.”
“Don’t hate doing the smart thing.”
“I don’t hate smart things. I just dislike smug things.”
“Who’s smug? Not me.”
“Yeah, yeah.” She readied another mouthful of pasta with a chuckle. If there was one thing he was, it would always be smug, Mr. I’m Older and Wiser to the teeth. Somehow, that was okay. “Whatever. Anyway. You said you can get this off?”
He nodded. “But not here.”
“A church?”
“My house. Our workroom. Everything I need is there.”
Great. Back to the scene of the crime. She ate the last of her lunch in silence. At least she knew what she was walking into this time. Couldn’t possibly end up coming out any worse off than she was now.
14
The house looked different somehow, now that she wasn’t on the job. It didn’t look like a fortress meant to be breeched. There were flowers lining the curving sidewalk, blooming from a myriad of planters on the deep, wrap-around porch, dripping out of
window boxes. Flowers, everywhere. Insects droned in the lazy late summer sun, finding colorful places to explore.
She admired the stained-glass windows as he unlocked the heavy double door.
“Dad?” He led her in and shut the door behind them. “Dad! I’m home.”
There was no reply, other than a yip-yap dog who scampered out to greet them. A bushy Pomeranian, its strawberry-blonde mane lending a certain lionesque fierceness to the twelve-inch-long beast. The dog barked and danced an anxious circle around her, issuing an impressive racket from so small a dog.
“Oh, don’t mind her,” he said. “She thinks she’s the lady of the house. Heidi! Knock it off!”
They passed the foyer where she’d manifested the huge fish on her last visit. The air still had the faint scent of sea-side fish market. “Um. Sorry about the, um, thing.”
“We had people in three times to clean the carpet.”
“Yeah, sorry.”
“Gimme a sec.” He ducked down a short hallway, calling for his father. No response, as far as she could here. He returned after a moment and gestured for her to follow him. “Come on. The workroom is down here.”
He flicked a light switch, illuminating a wide staircase leading down stairs. Really? A basement? The part of her brain that was eternally on guard just screeched its displeasure as her willingness to traipse along willingly into a potential dungeon. She squashed her mind’s voice down, fighting to remain optimistic. “Why didn’t the amulet try to take any of you before?”
“Because none of us were dumb enough to put it on.”
She let it slide. He was trying to help, after all. Fighting now would just delay things. “How did you shut it out? I couldn’t help but hear it.”
“I never heard a voice.” He shook his head. “Not actual words anyway. All she did was…wail. My dad couldn’t hear anything. It was just me. We knew she was in pain. All we could do was to try to sooth her.”
The stairway opened up into a large family room, with a huge sofa and a big screen TV. Looked like a perfect place for Netflix and popcorn, although if it were up to here, it would be P90X workouts and a dojo mat. “Why didn’t you try getting her out?”
Heroines and Hellions: a Limited Edition Urban Fantasy Collection Page 218