Binding the Shadows

by Jenn Bennett

  “No, Lon raised him.”

  “I was there whenever I could be—I had a demanding career. And I made a few mistakes. I can’t keep paying for them.”

  “Then stop making them.”

  “Who the hell are you to be passing judgment on me? How long have you even been in the picture? A few months? You think because you’re Lon’s newer model, you can just waltz in here and take my place? A twenty-five-year-old bartender? Think again, honey.”

  Dark anger coursed through me. “You should be grateful for every second you spend with him, because you don’t deserve him. And you’re breaking his heart.”

  “Spare me.” She wriggled against the bonds on her wrists. “Jupiter’s always been emotional and needy. He’ll do whatever it takes to get attention. He used to fake tears all the time when he was little.”

  “He’s not little anymore. But you wouldn’t know that, because you don’t know him.”

  “I know he’s more like me than anyone cares to admit. He’ll do whatever it takes to get what he wants. And what are you going to do when he comes into his knack? What if he inherits mine? If the whole family treats him like they’ve treated me, he’ll come running to his mother, because I’m the only one who understands what it’s like to wield this kind of power.”

  Jupe hadn’t told her about his knack? I was stunned. I thought surely that would be the first thing he spilled when they spent time alone. He brags about it whenever he gets the chance. Hell, he’d have it printed on a T-shirt if he could.

  Then it struck me: Jupe doesn’t trust her. Lon has told him time and time again to be careful about revealing it to people who might use it against him. Jesus. For all the dumbass mistakes that kid made, there were just as many times he made smart decisions.

  “Maybe you don’t fully get what I can do,” she said, misinterpreting my silence.

  “Believe me. I’ve heard all about it.”

  “Seeing is believing.”

  Her halo flickered. The air shuddered, just like it did when Lon transmutated. It felt like a cavalry of galloping horses—something enormous approaching. I knew it from the first beat, when the gold in her halo began to dominate the green and rose up over her head and shoulders like a gilded campfire.

  Her blindfold ripped as milky brown horns sprouted into existence. But where Lon’s came in above his temples and looped into burnished spirals, hers were straight and tilted back and up toward the crown of her head, maybe a foot or longer in length.

  Impressive. Even more so when her torn blindfold fell to her neck. Her green eyes were now golden. She was stunning. So incredibly beautiful. Dazzling. A rapturous shudder went through me.

  And if she hadn’t snapped her wrist bonds, I might’ve fallen under her sway, despite the ring. But that simple motion caught my gaze, and the second my eyes dropped from hers, I came to my senses.

  The Moonchild power roared toward me. I embraced it like a friend, delighting in the darkness that fell. Just as I had in Hajo’s elevator, I felt a foreign coolness rippling down my torso, and God help me, I felt the freaking tail sliding out from the hem of my shorts. Now that I knew it was coming, it wasn’t so bad . . . weird, but not bad. Weird I could handle, especially if it made me feel this crazily alive and powerful.

  Very, very powerful.

  No blue dot appeared. But within a blink, my vision morphed. It was still dark, but everything solid was swathed in silver, as if someone had dumped a vat of mercury over my surroundings—the cars, the trees, the circle of Lon’s driveway and every bump of gravel that paved it.

  I didn’t create the silver light: I was the light. And I cast myself over the landscape, illuminating everything in my path.

  Including Yvonne.

  Her skin gleamed like Priya’s, bathed in an unearthly quicksilver glow. Her horns jutted backward like two slender candlesticks molded from pewter. And when my gaze locked with hers, I watched emotion play over her eyes in quick succession. Certainty slipped into confusion . . . confusion dimmed to fear.

  She should be afraid. I was dangerous.

  “What is this?” I heard her say in a faraway voice. She tried to retreat, but there was nowhere to go. Her back hit the car. I took a step toward her and she bolted.

  She darted across the driveway toward the tree line, racing into the shadows. I flew after her like a bullet, with no thought to her long legs outpacing mine. I lunged and snagged her mid-thigh, tackling her to the wet grass. She shouted angrily. Screamed. Twisted in my grip to face me. To fight me. Her arms flailed as I straddled her. She reared back and punched the side of my head. The pain was shocking, but not enough to distract me when she tried it again with her other hand. I blocked her with my arms and quickly pinned both of hers to the ground.

  Heka flew out of me and came back fully charged with moon energy. I was vaguely aware that my mother might be listening somewhere in the Æthyr. Best to be quick about this, before I heard her horrible voice in my head.

  Or before I fell prey to Yvonne’s knack.

  Already, the soft perfume of her skin and hair were worming their way inside me like a siren’s call, beckoning me to succumb to her. I squeezed my eyes shut and concentrated.

  How to remove the transmutation spell? Shit. I didn’t know. I pushed kindled Heka through my hands into Yvonne, sending out a magical search party inside her veins, poking around for the transmutation magick.

  Something solidified between us. The Heka was creating a bridge. For several moments, I felt intimately bonded to her . . . not in a sexual way, but that was the closest comparison I could fathom. I suddenly knew more about her than I could learn about her from years of conversation. It was overwhelming. I briefly wondered if this is how Lon felt using his knack. Did he see inside people this way?

  And if he could see Yvonne like I was seeing her right at that moment, I wondered if he would do what I was going to do, or if he would pull the plug and stop right there.

  Because buried within her cells, I saw her demonic soul. And the stitching that secured it to her body was drenched in a deep, impenetrable sadness.

  My eyes welled with tears. It was so overwhelming, I almost pulled back.

  But, just out of reach, I suddenly felt the buried magick. The transmutation spell. It was a living, breathing thing, attached to her like a parasite. And its function was like a spiritual dam between her soul and body. A switch that opened and closed, letting the demon soul expand at will.

  And I could almost taste the magic that gave it life.

  I had no time to flounder or doubt myself. I heard things in the distance. Things watching and approaching. Maybe I was paranoid, thinking of what Priya had told me. But I didn’t want to find out. I just wanted to get the hell of there.

  Using all my willpower, I poured kindled Heka into that magical dam inside Yvonne, and I ripped it out by the roots.

  She screamed like I’d struck her.

  My eyes snapped open. I snatched my hand up and regarded a soft pink glow grasped within my fingers. My mind homed in on the memories of the pink magick I’d seen months ago, inside the cannery, where giant magical cockroaches spilled out of Jesse Bishop’s bones. And then in the putt-putt golf course, where the earthquake spell decimated an impossible stretch of land and nearly pulled me underground.

  Æthyric magic is pink. Or, at least the magic used by archdemon Duke Chora.

  The transmutation spell wasn’t an earthly spell.

  Terrified, I flung the pink glow from my hand. It exploded like the head of a dandelion, pink splinters floating away, then disappearing into shadows. And it wasn’t the only thing disappearing: Yvonne’s horns withdrew into her head as her halo went crazy: green and gold flashed intermittently, like a stoplight on the fritz. She flailed. Kicked. Cussed.

  The gold sizzled like a campfire being doused. Nothing remained but a soft, dull green nimbus. I’d done it!

  Then her hands flew to my throat, cutting off my oxygen.

  Damn! She was strong
er than she looked. I gripped her forearms and tried to force her back, but her muscles were stone. Pain ringed my neck. My larynx felt like it was close to exploding. A horrible tingling sensation spread down my arms. She scissored her legs around me and pushed. Before I knew it, I was on my back and she was choking the fucking life out me.

  Instead of panicking—and I probably should’ve been panicking at this point—I became incensed.

  It happened instinctually, just like in Hajo’s parking garage. My tail lashed out like a whip and wrapped around her chest. I felt the material of her dress beneath it. Felt the bouncy give in her ribs as I constricted around them. I could tell the breaking point was coming soon. But it wasn’t enough. I was blind with fury.

  I wanted to obliterate her.

  My halo expanded and whooshed around her head like clouds covering a mountain peak. Silver fog. I couldn’t see her face anymore, but I felt my halo seeping into her mind. It wasn’t the slow, exploratory push I’d used when seeking the transmutation spell inside her. It was a brutal invasion.

  And I wasn’t controlling it.

  Screaming her lungs out, she let go of my throat, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. Something else was the puppet master. I felt another presence, foreign and distinct and strong. Panic budded beneath all the rage and I tried to pull back, but I was both weak and out of control at the same time.

  Blinding light spilled over her back and beamed through my silver fog. I dimly heard a metallic squeal and felt something coming toward us, but I didn’t realize what was happening until an explosion filled my head.

  Not an explosion, but a voice. And the voice bellowed, “Cady!”

  My Moonchild magick fell away like an avalanche. The silver vision fizzled into shadow and sounds plumped up to normal volumes. Everything became solid and real again. And Yvonne was ripped from me, green halo trailing.

  But I barely noticed. I was too busy looking at my skin. Tiny, smooth ridges stretched over my chest, between my breasts. What the hell? This was the coolness that I’d felt in the elevator with the guy from Hajo’s place.

  As I yanked down my top, trying to get a better look at it, out of the corner of my eye, I caught a movement that distracted me to the point of madness.

  My tail retracting.

  Ringed in alternating black and white stripes, it was covered in tiny, glossy scales so lustrous, they almost looked wet. I reached out and managed to grab the last few inches of it. The magick was pulling it back inside me, much like Lon’s horns withdrawing when he shifted down. But I touched it, just for a moment, as it slid through my fingers. I expected it to feel slimy, but it didn’t. It was smooth and silky, and it tapered off into a rounded point. Like a snake.

  Just like a snake.

  Shouting diverted my attention. “Yvonne!”

  Lon’s voice.

  He was crouched over her body. She was convulsing.

  What the hell had I done?

  Rose rode in the ambulance with Yvonne. Lon and I followed in his SUV with Adella. The Holidays stayed behind with Jupe. The hospital was a ten-minute drive. But even though Lon was driving up the ambulance’s ass, it still felt like ten hours. When he asked, I gave him a barebones account of what happened. He made no comment.

  “We asked her to do it, Lon,” Adella said.

  He didn’t respond. I wished I knew what he was thinking, but I supposed it had to keep. He wasn’t going to say anything in front of Adella, especially if he was pissed. And if he was? I understood, but I wasn’t sorry for stripping the transmutation spell. Just sorry that I lost control after it was done. I suppose I’d be a lot sorrier if I’d fucked her up enough to do some permanent damage, but that remained to be seen. I wasn’t going to jump the gun and start falling apart just yet.

  When we got to the hospital, Lon strode away to find his friend, “Dr. Mick,” as Jupe called him. Moments later, I watched Yvonne’s body being rushed in, strapped to a gurney with Rose trailing behind the ER team. They wheeled her behind a swinging door, and that was all I knew for the better part of an hour.

  Adella and I sat together in a mauve-colored waiting room, smelling that depressing antiseptic hospital scent, staring at the TV like zombies . . . watching other people wait for bad news. I finally couldn’t stand the silence anymore, so I returned the Solomon’s Seal ring and attempted a conversation.

  “Thanks,” she said. “I’ll give it back to Mama.”

  I nodded and took a deep breath. “Adella?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Did you see me out in the yard with Yvonne?”

  She gave me a confused look. “After Lon yelled for us to come.”

  Okay, good. She hadn’t seen my reptilian form, or whatever the hell it was.

  “Does my halo look funny?”

  She glanced up. “It’s a little brighter and jumping around the edges.”

  At least the tail was gone.

  “I’m not upset at you,” Adella said, eyes weary but kind. “I just want you to know that. Whatever happens with her, it was the right thing to do. You said you’d try, and you did. So thank you.”

  I started to reply, but that’s when Lon finally made his way to the waiting room and gave us the only update we’d had: Yvonne was stable. He promptly left us alone again. I watched him walk away, and sadness crept inside my chest.

  I hadn’t killed her. But God only knew if I’d turned her into a vegetable. All I could hope for now was that she could be healed. And even if she could, I might’ve unintentionally made her into a martyr—one who suddenly had everyone’s sympathy and attention. Exactly what she wanted. How beautifully ironic.

  Adella got up and paced the waiting room while I buried my face in my hands, trying to regroup and focus. To push away all the dissonant thoughts clamoring for attention inside my overtaxed brain. Maybe I could call the Holidays again, check on Jupe. Last I’d heard, he was still asleep. No more vomiting. That was something, I supposed.

  “Here.”

  I flinched and looked up. Lon was sitting next to me, offering a paper cup of hot chocolate. I’m an admitted hot chocolate junkie and will imbibe it in any form. Lon’s homemade hot chocolate was probably one of my favorite things in the world. Even the watered-down powdery instant chocolate from the hospital vending machine was a welcome distraction.

  And a peace offering.

  His fingers brushed mine when he gave me the cup. I was so needy for his attention, the tiniest touch sent a wave of longing crashing through me. His eyes met mine for a moment, anxious and searching. I wanted to be alone with him. To talk about everything that happened and find out what was going on behind his impenetrable poker face. But even that small, arbitrary touch and momentary shared gaze was a kind of sustenance.

  It was alarming how much better I felt when he was around. I wasn’t used to this level of emotional dependence. So I looked away in embarrassment, unwilling to submit to it for too long. When I glanced back at him moments later, he was focused on drinking his own hot tea out of a matching paper cup, blowing on the surface to cool it.

  We said nothing. Several minutes passed. As I was starting to make headway on my drink, a tall doctor with dark reddish-brown hair and a bright blue halo strode toward us.

  “She’s out of the woods,” the doctor announced with a calm smile.

  I could practically feel Lon’s sigh of relief aligning with mine.

  “This is her sister,” Lon said to the doctor as she strode back to over to join us. “Adella Giovanni. Mick Bright.”

  The infamous Dr. Mick. Lon’s friend, and one of the best healers in La Sirena.

  “I think we’ve met before,” he said, squinting at her.

  “We did,” Adella confirmed. “You pumped Yvonne’s stomach when she overdosed on New Year’s Eve about ten years ago. She nearly died.”

  The doctor scratched his ear and nodded. “Yeah, I actually remember that quite vividly. You’ll be happy to know that this is more hopeful news. She had a seizure. Thought
maybe it was an aneurism, but I’ve studied all the scans and they’re clear. Looks like she did, however, suffer a concussion. She’s also severely dehydrated and has some bruised ribs, but nothing major. We’re going to keep her here to watch the concussion.”

  “Did my mama tell you she can’t have any pain medication?”

  “Yes, I’m very familiar with her medical history,” he said. “She’s resting. You can go talk to her if you’d like. Your mother’s with her now.”

  He waved down a nurse to escort her. Adella thanked him and made her way back.

  Mick turned to me with an outstretched hand. “You must be Cady.” He surprised me with a big, toothy smile and shook my hand with a slightly jarring amount of strength. “Wish we were meeting under better circumstances, but I’ll take what I can get. You’re even lovelier in person than in the photos I’ve seen.”

  I wanted to ask about these mysterious photos, but he just kept talking. And I let him, because he was so blindingly handsome, with ruddy hair tinged with gray near the temples and a perfect square jaw. A little too clean-cut and friendly for my preferences, but on him it was somehow appealing. Maybe it was the white doctor coat.

  “I’ve been telling Lon we should all have dinner but our schedules haven’t synched. Maybe we can plan something after the holidays, when things cool down. Before you head out to France.”

  He knows about France? I felt like I’d entered some weird alternate reality in which Lon had a normal relationship with a close friend he confided in. Sadly, this almost made me jealous, because I selfishly thought I was his only confidant. Every time I believed I had Lon all mapped out, along came a new road that led to some strange place I didn’t know existed. The secret Oreo stash I’d recently uncovered was one thing, but this? Fairly unnerving.

  “Dinner sounds good,” I said. “But can we back up a moment? Because I think you should understand that I might’ve caused Yvonne’s concussion. I don’t know how much you know about what I am—”

  “In regards to the mage thing, or the bartender thing?”

  “Uh, the mage thing.”