by Kelly Gay
So, yeah, I thought, looking up at the darkness moving slowly overhead, this was my place, my … creation.
I was an hour and a half late for dinner, but I came home decompressed and back on track. And after I ate and showered, I planned to log on to the ITF database and pull Llyran’s file. My footsteps echoed on the porch steps of my Candler Park bungalow, my stomach taking note of the warm spices leaking from the open window. The tap, tap, tap of claws on wood sounded beyond the door as I reached for the knob, preparing myself for yet another odd night at the Madigan home.
Brimstone greeted me from a distance, in the center of the hallway. His hairless gray body was still as his red eyes assessed me. His ears were up this time, instead of pinned back against his thick skull like usual, but his throat rumbled with uncertainty as he held his ground.
He shouldn’t be in the house. But then again, if Rex hadn’t routinely gone against my rules and let him inside to begin with, his scent wouldn’t have been on me earlier when the pregnant hellhound attacked, and I’d be just another body in the debris pile.
I sighed, ignoring the beast and removing my jacket, which desperately needed a trip to the cleaners after today, placing it, along with my weapons harness, on the rack inside the closet door. Brim sniffed the air behind me, no doubt scenting the female despite my dragon bath at the Grove and changing my shirt at Bryn’s. The smell was in my hair, on my jeans, probably on my boots.
“Brim! Come!” Will’s voice called from the kitchen, followed by a quick whistle.
The beast’s massive head turned for a quick second, and I could see his indecision. I pointed down the hall and took a step forward. “Go. Go on.”
He didn’t move. Another slow growl issued from his throat and he leaned back, bracing himself, his giant front paws spreading as they slid forward on the hardwood floor. The dark gray skin blended into the dimness of the hall, making his red eyes stand out.
“Move it,” I ordered, deeper, snapping my fingers and continuing forward. He turned tail and loped his tiger-sized body toward the light of the kitchen. “I’m going to turn him into a doggie popsicle if he doesn’t cut it out,” I said loudly, approaching the kitchen.
Rex stood at the sink, wiping his hand on a dish towel. He wore my ex-husband’s old State T-shirt. Loose jeans hung low on his hips, and his feet were bare. A defeated sense of loneliness and sorrow spread across my chest and squeezed.
It was hell sometimes—those first glances after a long day or after getting up in the morning. Seeing the body of my ex-husband walking around, his expressions, his smiles, the way his eyes crinkled at the corners, the deep southern drawl in his voice when he spoke …
There were moments, brief flashes, where I’d forget that a Revenant, a spirit entity, was in control, and I’d just see Will Garrity there—tall, athletic, and always with the smile that could melt snow.
Those moments hurt the most, and I tried not to let it show—how much I missed the real Will, and how much his decision to barter his body and soul to Rex, whatever the reason, had hurt. No matter what, no matter if we found a way to bring Will back, I knew now that it would never work, me and him. This final betrayal had broken the thin link between us.
“Hey, Charlie.” Rex turned around, bracing both hands on the sink ledge behind him.
“Brim is supposed to be in the kennel.” I snagged a water from the fridge and cracked it open, giving myself a moment to regroup before I turned back around. “That was the deal. I pay six hundred dollars for a reinforced mini version of Alcatraz, and you keep him in the kennel. Do you remember that at all?”
Brim had parked himself at Rex’s side, his jaw resting easily on the granite countertop as Rex patted his bald head. Was I the only one who got grossed out by the slobber trail on the countertops?
“Well, that was just in the beginning, Charlie. It’s cruel and unusual punishment to keep him back there all by himself when we’re in here. He wants to be with us. We’re his pack.”
I leaned against the edge of the kitchen table, the rim of the water bottle paused at my lips. “His pack? That damn thing growls at me again, and he’s on the next transport back to Charbydon.”
Rex shot me a nasty look and let Brimstone out the back door. “He’s not a thing. He’s a hellhound. He has a name.”
I rolled my eyes as he popped the lid to a canister of antibacterial wipes, snagged a sheet, and wiped up the slobber. He chucked it in the trash and then placed one hand on the countertop and one on his hip, frowning expectantly like Will used to do when I’d done something wrong.
“What?” I asked. He huffed in response, waiting for me to magically understand his problem. So I took a wild guess. “Um … sorry I’m late?”
An impressive snort came out of his mouth and his eyes rolled. “You’re always late—that’s why I always start dinner an hour after you say you’re going to be home.” Rex’s eyes grew round and exasperated as I still had no clue. “The garlic? The tomatoes? I asked you to get a few things …” He marched to the oven to check on dinner. The smell that erupted was wonderful. Lasagna or baked ziti, I guessed. “You know, I work all day long in this house and the least you can do is remember when I call.”
I heard the footsteps on the stairs and bit back my reply, waiting for Emma to come around the corner and into the kitchen. The mini bowling ball in her hands was a surprise. “Oh, hey, Mom.”
I stopped her as she passed, pushing her long, wavy bangs back to kiss her forehead. “What’s with the bowling ball?”
“It’s Brim’s. He’s torn up the other dog balls we got and—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” I stepped back. “You’ve been playing ball with the hellhound?”
I turned a murderous gaze on Rex as he pulled on oven mitts. “Well, they get along great,” he muttered in defense, knowing I was about to go nuclear.
“Mom …” Emma started in a tone that said she knew it, too, but I didn’t let her finish.
“No, Emma. I don’t care how great you get along. He’s a hellhound. They are trained to kill. They’re born with the instinct. I was attacked by one today—”
“You were? Did you hurt it?”
“What? No, I had her sent back to Charbydon.”
“Mom! That place is dying and—”
“How do you know their moon is dying?”
“Don’t you ever watch TV? And it’s not really a moon. Everyone just calls it that; it’s more like a white dwarf star. Or that’s the theory anyway. And now we have to do some stupid science report at school … Everyone has to come up with a hypothesis on how to …” She shook her head, realizing she was getting off track. “Sooner or later, someone’s going to have to go in there and rescue all those poor animals anyway. You should’ve brought her home. We could’ve set up another kennel next to Brim.”
I blinked, wondering if my daughter had lost her mind. Or maybe whatever the hell made Rex such a kook was catching. “This isn’t a hellhound sanctuary, Em. You can’t trust them. You turn your back on Brim for one second or look at him the wrong way, and he’ll remember he’s not Fluffy the Dog, but a killer, and I don’t want you to be in his path when he does.” I fired a hard look at Rex. “It stays in the kennel.”
“Mom!”
I didn’t answer, instead letting my angry footsteps carry me up the stairs. I refused to argue about it. The beast needed to go back to Charbydon. I was too pissed off to stay in the same room with Rex right now. He continually went behind my back and broke all my rules. What the hell was that going to teach my kid?
I removed my boots and jeans and then pulled on a pair of Lycra yoga pants and sneakers, stopping to look at myself in the full-length mirror to put my hair into a ponytail. Though my appetite had been insane the last two months, I’d still lost weight since the darkness ritual. Shadows lurked beneath my eyes, and I knew it wasn’t just weight I was losing. My body was worn out, tired of fighting on the inside. Having two opposing powers inside of me was taking its toll, ex
hausting me.
I gathered the long, wavy hair that fell to the small of my back. It was darker than Emma’s auburn-brown locks, but it fit my personality, and I liked the way the copper and mahogany tones mixed with the brown and matched my eyes. My lips pursed, taking the natural fullness out of them as I examined my reflection. My skin was paler. Hips a little thinner. But otherwise, I looked like the same old Charlie. Only exhausted.
A long exhale breezed through my lips, as my reflection dimmed.
What the—
My image completely disappeared along with the mirror, until I was looking at the wall beyond. I blinked hard, seeing strange linked patterns behind my eyelids. Damn. I must be more tired than I thought. I shook my head, knowing it wasn’t possible to see through the mirror; it was just my mind playing tricks. When I chanced a look again, the mirror was there and my reflection scowled back at me.
The back door slammed, echoing through the house. I stepped to the right, leaning toward the window to see Rex’s shadowy form in the yard below, leading Brimstone to the kennel. Emma’s door down the hall slammed, too, this one rattling the walls and making me flinch. Terrific. Now everyone was pissed.
I rubbed my hands down my face, hearing Rex return from the kennel. I thought about going downstairs to reinforce my argument. But it was pointless. I was right, he was wrong. And we’d do nothing but go around in circles. I was the parent. Emma might hate me for it, but my job was to protect her.
Trying to get through to Rex might be pointless, but my kid was another matter.
My need to have her understand propelled me down the hallway to her room. I knocked softly, wondering what had happened to the old days when she thought I could do no wrong and sought me out for the smallest comfort. She didn’t answer. I pushed the door open to find her lying on her stomach across her bed, using the large, brown, stuffed bunny Will had given to her last Easter as a pillow.
I sat on the bed. “Emma, you have to think rationally about this.”
She rolled onto her side, raising up on one elbow and looking down the length of her thin body to where I sat. Her finger twined around the bunny’s ear. “Mom, you don’t know Brim. You can’t say that unless you spend some time with him.” She sat up, cross-legged, pulling the bunny into her lap. “You’re the only one of us who hasn’t and that’s why he doesn’t trust you yet.”
“Can you hear what you’re saying? That thing has to trust me? You’re talking about a hellhound, Emma. Trust doesn’t exist with them.”
Her full lips went thin and her chin lifted, the stubborn expression reminding me of Bryn from earlier. She cocked her head as her eyes took on a challenging copper gleam. “Well how about trusting me, then? I’ll be twelve next month. I’m not stupid. I wouldn’t put myself in danger.”
“Not on purpose, no.”
Her mouth dipped. “He’s calm around me. I’ve been reading about hellhounds and they’re loyal to their packs, so loyal they’d die for them, and—”
“But we’re not his pack, kiddo.”
“We are,” she stressed, growing upset that she couldn’t break through to me. “He’s probably never even had a pack before. Daddy said they probably got him as a puppy and just kept him chained up all alone.”
“That’s even more reason to be wary of him. If he’s never been around a pack before, he doesn’t even know the rules, how to act, the boundaries … He’s a dangerous animal and should go back to Charbydon.”
I tried to soften the reality of what I was saying with my tone, but she just shook her head, tears shining in her round eyes, her cheeks flushing. “He wouldn’t know how to survive in the wild! Can’t you just try? For once, just try something someone else’s way? How about my way? I’m part of this family, too. I should have a say like everyone else.”
“Emma.”
“We’ll vote on it.”
“No, we won’t vote on it. This is my house, and my money that’s paying for Brim’s food, which he isn’t even eating by the way.”
“He doesn’t like dry dog food. Daddy even told you, but you don’t even listen to him.”
“Yeah, well, Daddy doesn’t know everything. Maybe you should start listening to your mom once in a while. I know some things too.”
She stood, clutching her stuffed animal and letting out a hurtful laugh. “No, you don’t! You don’t know when to trust your own daughter! Like, when were you going to tell me about Daddy, huh? I know something’s wrong with him. He’s not himself … and you know it!”
With that she flung the bunny at me and ran out of the room, slamming the door and leaving me sitting on her bed in stunned silence.
I hugged the bunny and glanced around at the room, the room of a very small girl—lilac walls, white furniture, floral quilt—but she wasn’t so little anymore. She wanted some independence, to make her own choices, and even to make this room her own by hiding what she called the “childish” wall color with posters.
My fingers curled around the bunny, digging into the soft fur.
Here I was spouting off good parenting, and I was still lying to my own kid.
All this time … there just never seemed to be a right time to tell her the truth about her dad. And then Thanksgiving had come, Christmas was approaching … There were so many reasons not to pull her world out from under her. And they were all excuses. In the end, there were no good reasons for delaying the truth.
And if her father had had an ounce of patience and a fucking spine and hadn’t sold his soul to a Revenant in the first place, we wouldn’t even be in this situation.
I wanted to choke him, to squeeze him into a little ball, to scream and cry and let it all out. But he’d taken that away from me, too. One final betrayal to mark the end of our relationship. My throat thickened and I blinked hard, blocking the tears from spilling over, and glanced down. What I saw made me throw the bunny into the air and leap off the bed with a shout.
My back hit Emma’s desk, almost knocking over her chair. The bunny landed on the bed and bounced, falling onto the carpet. What was once a stuffed animal was now a solid, fur-covered ball. Just like I’d imagined.
A hard shudder ran through me as my brain floundered to make sense of what I’d done. Same as the Abaddon chick I’d turned to ice for kidnapping my child. Hadn’t meant to, it just happened. My Charbydon powers went far beyond creating nightmares in the mind of my opponent, to being able to actually manifest those nightmares.
I hadn’t meant to. I lifted my trembling hands and stared down at my palms. What if I’d been holding my kid? My stomach knotted, and a cold sweat broke out on my skin. Dear God.
I raced from the room, down the steps, and headed outside, aiming for the track that ran around the soccer and baseball fields across the street.
Run. Just run. Don’t think, just run.
7
Forty-five minutes later, I returned to the house sweaty and spent.
Muffled voices came from the living room. A quick glance as I passed showed Emma and Rex practicing her lines for the school play. There were four lines, but Rex was determined to make Emma the best Cobweb in A Midsummer Night’s Dream that Hope Ridge School for Girls had ever seen. I left them alone, swiped a piece of garlic bread from the baking sheet atop the stove, shoved it in my mouth, jogged up the steps, and then went through the motions of stripping down while devouring the bread.
As I stepped into the shower, my stomach twisted irritably, wanting more food. From the looks of the kitchen, Rex and Emma had already eaten, but there were probably plenty of leftovers in the oven, since Rex had been making extra lately to accommodate my ravenous appetite.
I turned up the heat, letting the hot water work its magic on my muscles and stress level, and leaving myself wide open for the guilt to worm its way in. I gave Rex a lot of hell, more than he deserved. It was just hard to pull my emotions out of the equation when everything he did and said was being done by Will’s body.
I scrubbed my face with the washcloth, deci
ding to hurry because the heat was starting to turn my hungry stomach into a nauseated one.
I washed and conditioned my hair, rinsing and then quickly shaving my legs, spurred on by the thought of dinner. When the voice spoke beyond the curtain, it scared the shit out of me and made me jump.
“I hear you found a few bodies today, Charlie. Any leads. Any … theories?”
I stilled, the razor on my calf, the ball of my foot resting against the corner of the tub and hot water beating down on my back. Jesus Christ. I knew that voice.
A serial killer was in my bathroom.
Dear God. Emma! A jolt of adrenaline-fueled fear shot through my body. Pulse, blood pressure, muscles … Everything readied as I prepared to run for my kid and get her into her bedroom, the only room in the house with additional wards, ones made in blood—that of myself, Magnus mage, Aaron, my earth mage sister, Bryn, and two of the powerhouse Elders at the League of Mages. The amount of blood it had taken made it the equivalent of a Fort Knox panic room. It was the first thing I’d done after getting home from the hospital two months ago.
“Relax, Detective. This is just between you and me. And for the record,” Llyran said in a conversational tone steeped in haughtiness, “killing children holds little to no value. It’s a question of payoff. The effort expended is more than the return. And killing that Revenant in your living room is a waste of my time. He’ll just flit away and find someone else’s life to ruin. Might want to work on your aura, though.”
Relief flowed through my veins, so strong I nearly dropped to my knees, not caring that he had read my strong emotions; they’d been too swift for me to block anyway.
Calm down, Charlie. Focus on Em.
One of my most frequent lessons with Aaron had been learning how to forge a link with my child, a way to connect with her emotions, to feel her presence and state of mind. And after her kidnapping by Mynogan and his thugs, there was no way I ever wanted to feel that helpless again, to not know if she was okay. I wasn’t as calm or as focused as I should be, but this was one thing I’d semi-perfected. I closed my eyes and summoned the link, that joyful, unbreakable bond with my child. It wasn’t as strong as usual, but when the emotions poured in—humor, determination, nervousness—I knew she was still practicing her lines downstairs. Neither she nor Rex had any idea Llyran was here, in my bathroom.