She crouched over me and hissed, “The tourney was laughable, your little friend Viney hardly any fun at all, but I played with her anyway. Aren’t you happy? I’m being so nice to them all, even the tall one who smells like ashes.”
I closed my eyes. Drake? What had she done to him? I groaned while my face split open through my eye. I could feel blood dripping down my face, and Pitch hovered over me, watching the pain consume me. After that was a crushed collarbone, internal bleeding, my leg snapping in three places, and layers and layers of bruises. It wasn’t that she hurt me, she just gave me the pain and the injuries followed.
When she laid her fingers carefully on my side where my two ribs should be protecting my internal organs, I screamed for a long time.
She laughed breathlessly when I stopped screaming, my throat raw to match the rest of me. She slid her fingers through my hair and then with a yank and a twist, she ripped out the feather and star Drake had woven in.
She studied the locks and the object for a moment before she tossed them in a bucket, added a lit match, a pinch of silver powder, and then they were gone in a flash of fire and a puff of smoke, along with Pitch.
Chapter 35
Witch
I passed in and out of consciousness for some time, my eyes opening long enough for me to take a breath and then fall back into agony then darkness. She must have fought in a tourney with Viney. Was she okay? If Pitch had kissed Zach, what did that mean? Had she kissed him and then killed him? I shook my head, forehead pressed against the floor. I’d been conscious for a good three minutes. I needed to do something about my body, the mess that I was. I had to go home. I couldn’t go to the school’s healers without them finding out about my non-magic status, and I needed to keep that hidden. I couldn’t reveal the ultimate vulnerability. It would be like offering my liver to Witley on a platter.
I groaned and slid my forehead over the floor and towards the table where I’d left my bag. It seemed a long way away as I stared at the floor out of the one eye that wasn’t swollen and bloody. It felt horrible. It probably looked worse.
“Thanks, Pitch,” I mumbled out of my swollen lips. What had she done to my face, anyway? Bad things. Somewhere was a very smashed up witch. Other than me. Pitch took pain and shared it, multiplied it, compounded it inside me. So, I could be feeling the pain she’d inflicted on her opponents, or the pain they’d given her. That was all she was: pain. That she’d kissed Zach made no sense.
I finally reached the table and extended my arm up, floppy at the elbow. Dislocated? That was going to be fun to fix. I used the other arm and happily, no dislocated elbow. I grabbed the strap and pulled the bag down onto my head. After that I passed out for a little while then woke up, shifted the bag off me and painstakingly opened it and fumbled inside for my phone.
I called Revere, let it ring and ring until it went to voicemail. I didn’t try to call again. If he didn’t answer his phone, he was busy somewhere he wouldn’t tell me about that would make my mother’s lips thin while she stared at him.
I slid my computer out of my bag, turned it on and squinted at the screen. Even my good eye was swollen. It hurt so much. I swallowed down tears because that would hurt to cry from my bloody sliced up eye. And it would make my eyes even puffier. “You’ve had worse, Penny. You’ve had much worse. You weren’t even unconscious for an hour. This is nothing. All you need to do is get home, and Revere can heal you no problem. When he gets back. He’ll be back in a few hours, and you’ll be home when he gets there.”
No problem except he’d demand to know the whole story, and I’d have to get home first. I went to that special delivery site and scheduled a delivery for as soon as possible. It took me forever to write those words, ‘as soon as possible,’ and then I remembered the ASAP I could have used.
I groaned and closed the lid of my computer, resting my cheek against it. It hurt, but not enough to knock me out. That meant it was time to move, fix what I could, and somehow look presentable enough to make it out to pickup without anyone talking to me. If Pitch had been at large, someone would put two and two together, and I did not need anyone else involving themselves in my life on her behalf.
So how to look pretty with a broken leg, and a slashed eye? Pirate tea party? “Aye, aye, captain. The Penny pirate tea party commences first thing. After I fix my elbow.”
I rolled over, grabbed my forearm, stretched and twisted until the joint popped beautifully in place. I’d screamed but only for a moment before I gasped and panted, one breath at a time while the world got fuzzy then came back into focus. The next few hours were bizarre. I splinted my leg, passing out a few times during that fun time, then I was able to stagger into the bathroom and start on my eye.
I swallowed hard before I cleaned out the sliced eyeball. After I’d irrigated it, poulticed it, and taped a bandage over it, I clung to the edge of the sink with white fingers while I breathed in and out, trying to keep from throwing up. Do you have any idea how disgusting it is to probe around in an eyeball? Cupcakes and cream puffs, Pitch had to end.
After I’d treated my major mishaps, I dug deep into my trunk, coming up with a big hat that only needed a glued on feather to make it perfect. I wrapped my leg with brown fabric, that I painted wood grain. Talk about authentic. My other leg was remarkably untouched, so I wouldn’t have to wear tights. How nice that I wouldn’t have to chop up a pair, but my knees would be cold. That made me laugh because if cold knees were what I noticed, I’d be doing very well. I put cold compresses and cream on my not sliced up bits of face, and after laying on my bed for a long time, passing in and out of consciousness I felt slightly less deathlike.
Magical. My phone buzzed and there was a message:
Delivery pickup, 5:45 at Northwest Entrance.
I set my alarm for five-thirty, and slept or passed out. Whatever.
When I opened my eyes again and sat up, I felt much better. My healers were quite good. Not that my leg was suddenly unbroken, or my sliced eye not, but still, when I walked over the mess Pitch and I had made of my room to the bathroom, I hardly limped with the splint. My room was a disaster, smashed bottles and potions running down the walls and dripping on the floor. It looked like the aftermath of a slasher horror scene. That was Pitch, straight, unrelieved horror. She should have a theme song that really captured the epic awfulness of her.
I got dressed in a ruffly something, put on a black eye patch, white blouse, and white, ruffled bloomers that I actually wore for real underwear when I lived in an attic, and then put on heels, or one anyway. With the hat over top of it and a whole lot of makeup, I limped out of my room and into Lilac Stories common room. I hesitated when I saw Zach on the couch, his face lit blue from the screen that was left on.
I exhaled as a knot somewhere inside me loosened. She hadn’t eaten him. I carefully pulled the throw blanket over him and left the room. It was quiet on a Saturday morning at five forty-five a.m. I walked with barely a stagger and when some kid who was passing across from me saw me, he took a double take, but his expression was not, ‘wow, that girl got the crap beat out of her, why is she walking around,’ but more, ‘Oh, Penny Lane is wearing weird stuff. Why does Drake like her?’ if he thought Drake liked me, which I didn’t know. Of course not. He didn’t really like me. How could he like someone who couldn’t handle a little roughing up? I rolled my good eye because by anyone’s standards, Pitch had hurt me good. What a cow. Murderous, psychotic, jerk cow.
It hurt. My leg was about to give out. Yep. It did as I reached the building’s corner. I sat there, leg outstretched, slumped against the wall and trying to look like a drunk pirate, not a weak, sniveling idiot. I should have gotten drunk. I didn’t have alcohol. Although, stumbling around drunk would probably not help me get where I needed to go. Taking edges off pain could be extremely useful. Drugs. I needed all kinds of drugs. Revere would make the pain go away. Or my mother. Probably my mother.
I had to get up and walk down the drive where Signore would be w
aiting for me. Would he take me home? I’d paid for the delivery. He had to take me.
“Cara mia,” he said before he took me in his arms and carried me away.
I pressed my face against his chest. Ouch. Also, I’d lost my hat somewhere. I didn’t see anything until he set me down, crouched in front of me, and peered at me with his concerned eyes. I was going to cry. No, because my wounded eye would hurt, or worse, it would wash out all the crap that was supposed to heal it.
I licked my lips. Which hurt. It was getting a little annoying actually, all this pain, pain, pain. So boring. “Hi. Pitch came. She was at a tourney last night. I need to go home. Revere didn’t answer his phone, so I scheduled an appointment. I hope you don’t mind.”
He made a sound, a growling purr in the back of his throat before he straightened up. It was only then that I realized where I was, in the mysterious depths of his truck. It looked like a bar. I was on a couch that smelled like Signore, and the fabric felt a bit like cobwebs and a bit like grass, so not at all like Daysider fabric.
“Do you mind, Signore? I don’t know if you deliver livestock.”
He went to the bar, reached behind it and pulled out a bottle, purple and glistening. “Not at all. Drink this.”
He put the bottle to my lips and I swallowed the strangest flavors, all honey in summer, rich peaches dripping from trees, with a biting undertaste of herbs and insects. After my second swallow, I felt much, much nicer. Everything blurred around the edges and Signore’s face took on a beneficent glow.
I patted his cheek. “You are such a good deliveryman. Are you my father?”
He covered my hand with his, rough, calloused, permanently swollen and twisted. “If I were your father, I would protect you, take you to my castle, dress you in lace, and make certain you never felt ripped into pieces again. Alas, I’m only a deliveryman, and my castle is what you see here.”
“You have a very good couch. It’s drawing the brokenness out of me, isn’t it?”
He laughed roughly. “It will ease your ache while you rest. Drink more. I have a few deliveries I must make on the way. If you don’t mind.”
I shook my head and the ceiling with its rough wood spun. It did not look like the top of a truck, or a van, whatever. “I’m getting quite comfortable. Maybe I don’t need to go home, just ride around with you for a few hours.”
He ruffled my hair with his large palm. “Not a few hours, but travel with you will take some effort. Drink, rest. I’ll wake you when it’s time.”
Did I sleep? Maybe. Maybe the sound of roaring armies and thunderous wings didn’t really happen, but it seemed like they pounded around that small space as I rested. I turned my face into the couch and slept with the scent of Signore in my nostrils. I wasn’t afraid when I was with him.
Chapter 36
Mage
“Drake, do you have a moment?”
I didn’t, not really, but I turned to Ian anyway, giving him a half smile that changed to a full one when I saw that he held an enormous hat with an even larger white feather sticking out of it.
“Do you need some fashion advice? I say it needs a bigger feather.”
He handed it to me. “Penny dropped this.”
I held the hat and frowned at him in the middle of the not terribly busy hall. It was midmorning, and I had things to do, so many things including business in Darkside that wouldn’t wait. Well, it would have to. “Where? Why? What was she doing with this kind of hat?”
He studied me for a long moment before he turned away, moving out of range. “I saw her when her deliveryman came.”
“She dressed as a pirate for a delivery? Odd.”
“Perhaps he took her to a costume party. It’s evening in some parts of the world.”
“Always evening in Darkside.”
He nodded agreeably. “True.”
I fingered the hat and glared at Ian’s feet. “Are you saying that Penny left Rosewood with her deliveryman?”
“No. I’m saying that I found her hat. I would not say the other thing, not when you’re liable to feel a bit itchy.”
I raised my eyes to his face. “You object to being beaten to a bloody pulp?”
“No, but only consider how less helpful I’ll be as her coach, if she should ever return.”
I grabbed his collar and slammed him against the wall, baring my teeth at him in a completely inhuman snarl.
He scratched his ear.
For a moment I almost ripped him apart, but I didn’t have time for that. I stepped away from him and adjusted my cuffs. “I apologize.”
“Not at all. I’ve been meaning to shake my brain loose all day. Now I feel much more relaxed. Do you want me to do anything about it?”
I glared at him. “What? Did you put a tracking device on her?”
He shook his head. “No, but I could probably hunt her.”
“Hunt her?” I snarled at him. If anyone tracked her, it would be me, and when I found her at the end of my hunt, I would take her somewhere she would never be able to escape again.
Ian made a face. “That wouldn’t work, would it? Pity. I suppose we’ll have to cancel dance practice today. I’ll tell Zach.”
“Why are we cancelling dance? Aren’t we obsessive about it? I thought you were going to torture her for five hours today.”
We both turned to look at Zach, because the way he sounded was so different, so happy.
He stood there smiling like an idiot, the kind of smile only a mage in love wore. I should qualify, a mage in love who hadn’t moved into the stage of mindlessly jealous, possessive, and sadistic.
I cleared my throat clutching the hat. It was a good thing that I wasn’t a mage in love, otherwise I’d be a snarling beast at the thought of her abandoning me. “Penny has left Rosewood to attend a pirate party.”
Zach looked confused. “In Fairfield? She shouldn’t be there alone.”
“Not alone,” Ian said with a slight glance in my direction.
“With Viney? Can she walk after last night? I doubt it. Besides, Viney wouldn’t be caught dead wearing anything like that.” He ripped the hat out of my hands then stared at it, frowning, his blissful love forgotten. “I was going to talk to her this morning, but she was gone when I woke up.”
Ian made a noise. “I’m sure that after a night with a witch like Pitch, I couldn’t get up early, either.”
Zach glanced at Ian and looked a little bit guilty. “I’m worried about something… about something Pitch said. Something about Penny, about Penny being jealous, making sure Penny never burned anything I made her again, or something.”
“Pitch would explain why Penny had a broken leg and an eye patch,” Ian said.
“Broken leg?” I grabbed Ian and slammed him against the wall again.
Zach pulled me back only so he could get in Ian’s face. “What are you talking about?”
Ian looked from Zach to me and rolled his eyes. “You’re dating your true love. What do you care if Penny collapsed and was carried off by her Darksider?”
I stepped away from Ian and ran a hand through my hair. I did not have time for this. I had to go to Darkside and sign the contract with a new client. Three of my armies were already in position, waiting at a battle for me to sign. If the client lost before I got out there, that would be incredibly inconvenient. It would look like an insult as well as sloppy business.
There were so many intricate details you had to put in contracts, and the signing of them took at least an hour, more if the client felt like they had to show courtesy to you. At the moment, I wanted very much to rip apart this world, hunt her as Ian had suggested, particularly if she was hurt by a jealous Pitch.
I growled at Zach. “You had your hands all over her. You probably smelled like Penny and her delicious shampoo. Of course she’d hurt her.” I didn’t glance at Ian. If he didn’t know that Pitch knew Penny, I wasn’t about to tell him. I inhaled and shook my head. “There’s nothing to be done at the moment. I really do have to go.”
I slapped Zach across the chest. “Worry double for me, all right?” I turned and stepped into Darkside, into a smoky haze with the sound of war raging around me.
I’d come out in a tent that had probably been white not too long before if its current ghostly gray was any indication. I inhaled deeply then coughed as smoke and rotting filled my nostrils. I took another shallower breath and walked out of the tent, across uneven ground to the doorway of a much larger one, dark red instead of white with a black pennant at the top that waved limply in the heavy, hot air.
It was more humid and the air tasted of sulfur this far into the borderlands. This contract was extremely lucrative. Even with the extra costs a position so distant would accrue in supplies, we would still profit, unless all three companies were eradicated in this skirmish.
I walked towards the doorway and the closer I went, the stronger the scent of sulfur, and this foreboding that worked in my limbs, making them heavier than usual. This was a risk. Jasper had arranged most of it, but this step I couldn’t leave to anyone, however delightful their concerned facial expression.
I nodded at the two witches who stood guard at the door and stepped inside, pretending that my stomach didn’t tighten knowing that either one could drive a knife through my back.
“Ah, welcome. Please, sit! Have some wine!”
I waited until my eyes adjusted and I could make out the garish figure with white face, black hair, dramatic receding hairline until he looked like some cartoon vampire, particularly with his suit and deep crimson sash that set off his red mouth.
“I apologize for my tardiness. There was something of an emergency.”
He raised his thin black eyebrows that looked like they were drawn on with charcoal. “Indeed? The only emergency for a man of your age would be a fight, or a woman. Am I right?”
He laughed an utterly chilling sound that swept through me like a wind through the burning lands. It was strangely familiar.
“Have we met?” I asked, cocking my head at him.
He mimicked me, cocking his head without moving any of the rest of his body, like a puppet controlled by sticks. “I don’t believe that’s likely. What would I have to do with an upright Daysider mage like yourself?”
Dread Delight: Rosewood Academy for Witches and Mages (Darkly Sweet Book 2) Page 33