Past Life Strife (Rise of the Discordant Book 1)

by McMullen, Christina

  “And what is it that you think might cloud my judgment?” I asked.

  “Don’t play games, Desmond. I know Seth told you what I am. I can’t change that, but I can control the kind of person that I want to be. I don’t expect you to take my word on that, but at least give me a chance to prove it before you write me off as another threat. Goddess knows Blackbird has enough real problems to keep us all busy.”

  She had a point and to tell the truth, she already had proven herself. All three of the witches had when they stepped up to take on the Discordant tonight. That she was a Nyx shouldn’t have had any bearing at that point and I knew it. I might have been stubborn, but I knew when it was time to let things go.

  “I think we got off on the wrong foot tonight,” I said as a way of apology. “Old habits and preconceived notions are hard to break, so please forgive my distrust. I really do appreciate everything you’ve done. I know this is not your battle.”

  “Thanks. And I’m sorry too,” she added with a sheepish grin. “As soon as I figured out what you were, I got jealous.”

  “Jealous?” That, I had not expected.

  She shrugged and gave me a small, embarrassed smile. “You heard Louise earlier. We’ve always kind of been the enforcers around here. With a Warrior in the picture, we’re not really needed, are we?”

  “Oh, I don’t know about that,” I said with a small chuckle. “If I can be honest, I’ve seen a lot in three hundred years, but one night in Blackbird has me questioning everything. For a small town that most people have never even heard of, you sure have enough problems.”

  “Noticed that, huh?” She laughed as well. “I think that’s what drew my mother to this place when she was younger. She still hasn’t figured out all of the town’s secrets, but she’s got a good start. In fact, I think I’m going to pay her a visit tomorrow and see what she has to say about our little succubus problem. I know what I said earlier, but I don’t like the idea of Seth’s soul being tethered to something like that.”

  “That makes two of us,” I said with a sigh. “Would you mind if I came with you? I think I’d like to hear your mother’s theories as well.”

  “Sure, just let me get your phone… well, that’s odd,” she said, frowning at her cell phone. “You’re already in here.”

  Likely, my number replaced that of the Guardian, but I didn’t say anything. I may be reserving judgment on Donna, but I still wasn’t comfortable with her ability to see through Order magic. Instead, I simply made the excuse that Seth must have put it in earlier, and saw to it that she got safely home before heading back to the place I would now be calling home.

  *

  By the time I climbed the stairs to the apartment above the bar, the sun was beginning to make an appearance. Thankfully, the Discordant were relatively inactive during the day because I was exhausted. Warriors typically ran on very little sleep. If I got four hours, I was golden. But after expending as much magical energy as I had, I was going to need at least six, eight if I was lucky.

  When I entered the apartment, Bogie was up, sitting on the couch and flipping through the television channels with a look of awe. He looked up at me and frowned.

  “Yeesh, Des. You look wrecked. Why didn’t you let me help?”

  I didn’t respond other than to give him a look that said exactly why I didn’t let him help, and made my way to the kitchen. It was small, but serviceable, and much to my relief, stocked with plenty of bottled water. It was comforting to find that Seth knew better than to trust the taps. There was more to the phrase ‘there must be something in the water’ than most people ever wanted to find out. Especially in a place like Blackbird.

  “Come on, Des.” Bogie turned off the television and followed me into the kitchen, where he started rummaging around in the fridge. “They banished me. Do you really think I was gonna help those jerks out? At least tell me the girls held their own.”

  “They did fine,” I sighed. “The wolves are dead. I’m not sure what happened to the pixies. Why didn’t you tell me there was a siren out there?”

  “Didn’t know that one. A siren? Really? I don’t see no beaches out there.”

  “No, but there’s a local party spot down by the river that happens to sit next to a strong current. We nearly lost a couple of teenagers who thought they wanted to go for a swim.”

  “Man, talk about slummin’,” he said with a low whistle as he rummaged around in the cupboards. “I ain’t never heard of a siren this far inland. Seems fishy to me. Hey, get it? Fishy!”

  I groaned as Bogie laughed at his own lame joke. He did have a point though. Sirens were definitely coastal creatures. There may have been a few in the Great Lakes, but rivers really weren’t their thing.

  “Didn’t Betty mention fracking? If there was a mass summoning and there was that much water involved, it probably pulled in more than a few nymphs.”

  “Good point,” came a reply from somewhere under the counter as he dragged out an electric mixer. “Coulda been worse though. You got any idea how many Discordant love the water? Least it wasn’t a Mer. Those guys creep me out.”

  “Mers require salt water,” I reminded him, draining my bottle of water to stave off the beginning of a headache. “L.A. had plenty of fish-folk, if you recall. Bogie what are you doing?” Somewhere, he’d found a frilly apron, which I imagine must of belonged to the former Guardian because it didn’t look like Seth’s style. Bogie had emptied what looked like half the contents of the fridge onto the counter and had two pans heating up on the stove.

  “Seth’s gettin’ up in a half hour, so I thought I’d make him breakfast,” he shrugged, tossing green peppers and onions into a frying pan that was already full of bacon.

  “Say again?”

  “He’s a nice guy, Des. It’s the least I could do. Especially after he offered me dibs on the old Guardian’s room.”

  “He what?”

  “Relax, I left you the room,” he said with a cheeky wink. “The couch is fine for me. I think he mighta been a little perturbed about bein’ left outta the action as well. He didn’t mean nothin’ by it.” In the second pan, he began pouring batter for what looked and smelled like blueberry pancakes.

  “Maybe not, but after the number that succubus did on him, I wasn’t going to take my chances,” I said, wondering why I felt the need to defend my position to Bogie, of all people.

  “Oh, I’m not questionin’ your authority, big guy. I’m sure Seth understood what you was tryin’ to do, but you hurt his feelin’s. Don’t worry,” he said as he cracked an egg and added it to the pan with the bacon. “The Bogie blue plate special oughta make him forget all about it. You want anythin’?”

  “No, but thanks Bogie,” I said and got up, even though the smell of pancakes was making me ravenous. I had to admit, for a demon, Bogie actually seemed to know his way around a kitchen. He didn’t even break the yolks as he slid the bacon and eggs onto a plate. “I need sleep. Tell Seth I’ll see him after work.”

  At the end of a small hall were two closed doors and one that opened into a bathroom. From the snoring, it was pretty obvious that the door on my left was Seth’s room, so I opened the door on the right. The shockingly pink walls did nothing to help my impending headache. Neither did the leopard print pattern that covered the curtains, bedspread, pillows, and lampshades. To find the bed, I had to move what felt like an entire closet’s worth of women’s clothing. I quickly realized the real reason why Bogie had left me the Guardian’s room and made a mental note to let him know exactly how much I appreciated the gesture.

  Chapter 7

  Biscuits and Brawls

  If it wasn’t for my day job, I might have gone insane a long time ago. Or was the fact that I considered eight hours of emotional onslaught by the unemployed to be a stabilizing force in my life proof that I was already far too gone to call myself sane? Either way, after everything that had come to light the night before, I welcomed the distraction. Sure, paperwork wasn’t as effective a distr
action as something like physical labor would have been, but it kept me busy and my mind occupied. Even being bombarded by a never-ending stream of hopelessness was preferable to dwelling on that which was out of my control. At least with the unemployed, I knew what to expect.

  Waking up to a full breakfast, prepared by a banished Discordant, though, that was something that I can honestly say I wasn’t expecting. Nor was the fridge filled with prepared lunches for the rest of the week. I didn’t think for a minute that Bogie was acting out of the kindness of his heart. This was bribery, plain and simple. He wanted me to convince Desmond to release the magical bond that kept him tied to the bar. To be honest, I had already planned to discuss the situation with Desmond. Aside from the fact that Bogie hadn’t done anything to deserve being bound, the apartment was too small for the three of us. Of course, I didn’t tell Bogie any of this. All I said was that I would consider it. I know better than to make a promise to a Discordant, even a banished demon whose heart seems to be in the right place. Besides, I can’t remember the last time I had a home cooked meal. Abbey and I had lived almost exclusively off takeout from Louie’s and Desmond didn’t seem like the domestic type.

  Unfortunately, not even the mind-numbing monotony of spreadsheets and reports had provided me with enough of a distraction to keep my mind from wandering into dark places. Wednesday morning was usually spent in a mad rush to catch up on everything we didn’t finish while processing benefit eligibility the day before. Typically, I would be hard pressed to finish before lunch, but because of my determination to think about anything other than the predicament I found myself in, I had finished all of my reports before ten thirty. This was not good. Without work to distract me, my thoughts inevitably drifted back to the situation with Amara.

  Things would have been bad enough if she was simply a vampire. Vampires feed off of hopelessness and despair. They worm their way into their victim’s mind and fill it with desperation for something more than the lot the Cycle has given them. Lost souls fall easily for the vampires’ false promises, which is why they are attracted to places like Blackbird. But Amara wasn’t simply a vampire.

  Myths and folklore will have you believe that a succubus is a sexual creature who preys only on men, draining them of life through sexual acts meant merely to propagate their demonic race. There is but a small shred of truth to this belief. A succubus doesn’t discriminate based on gender or sexual preference. Any soul is vulnerable. They will ensnare their victims through sex, true, but it’s the mind rape more than anything else that becomes their undoing. The succubus implants false hopes and give their victims a taste of what their lives could be like. The victim is then hopelessly addicted. Their lives no longer contain joy and the only pleasure they receive is from the nightly visits. This is how they are enslaved.

  That Amara existed because of my own insecurities and false hopes was a Hell I had brought upon myself. Donna’s theory had merit. Amara needed me alive because my safety protected her. But I didn’t trust that this information would satisfy her enough to leave me alone. Just the fact that Amara was in Blackbird proved otherwise. It would just be a matter of time before I found out what exactly she wanted from me.

  The light on my phone blinked, showing an internal call from the front desk. Grateful for a distraction, I answered.

  “Seth, your eleven o’clock appointment is here. Should I send her back?”

  “Um…” I pulled up my calendar, knowing full well that I did not have any appointments scheduled. I never schedule appointments on Wednesday before lunch because of the reports that need to be finished. “I don’t show any appointments, Jocelyn,” I said with a sinking feeling. “Who’s here?”

  “Um… Ann… or… Amanda?”

  Amara. My suspicions had been correct. There was a very slight possibility that I was wrong, but I doubted it. Jocelyn was really bad about remembering names and was too embarrassed to ask twice or admit she didn’t know.

  “Do you want me to reschedule?” she asked when I didn’t immediately respond.

  “No. No, that’s fine. I’m free. I must have just forgotten to put the appointment on my calendar,” I said, trying to keep my voice as neutral as possible. “Send her in.”

  I could have declined. I could have told the receptionist that it was a mistake, but in the end, it wouldn’t have mattered. Amara would have found a way to get to me regardless. Besides, all I had done for the last half hour was torture myself by dwelling on the situation. I might as well face it head on. But as soon as she walked through the door, I knew I was in over my head. My mind was screaming, “Enemy!” but my heart was shredding itself into little pieces. Lower regions turned traitor and I was forced to remain seated or reveal the fact that she still had a shamefully obvious hold over me.

  “I realize times are tough all over, Amara,” I said, pulling up the spreadsheet I had completed earlier. Somehow, looking at the dull rows of numbers helped balance my emotional state. “But you’re wasting your time here. At your age, you don’t qualify for unemployment benefits. I’d suggest the social security office on the fourth floor, but then, you’ve never worked a day in your life, so I doubt they can help you either.”

  “Your attempt at humor is as pathetic as you are, Seth.”

  She draped herself across the guest chair in front of me with an audible huff of frustration. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that she had crossed her legs over the side arm, which caused her skirt to slide nearly all the way to her hip. The move should have looked cheap and trashy, but she had supernatural sex appeal working in her favor. Next to my spreadsheet, I opened a browser window to a website full of pictures of puppies and kittens. Safe, innocent, and balancing.

  “Yet you can’t seem to stay away from me,” I countered with way more bravado than I felt. “Why are you here?”

  “Because I knew your dog wouldn’t be hanging around.”

  “I certainly understand why you would be afraid of the Warrior, but what I meant was, why are you here in Blackbird?” I clarified. “Why now, after one hundred fifty years, are you seeking me out?”

  “That’s the question, isn’t it?” She righted herself, much to my relief, but then leaned forward, spilling almost completely out of the top she wore, causing another unwanted distraction. “Don’t flatter yourself, Seth. I was just as surprised to see you as I was to find myself in this backwater Hell on Earth. Though really, I shouldn’t be surprised. You always did have a fondness for low class living and dead end jobs.”

  “Yes, I get it, Amara. I could be the president and you would still find a reason why I was beneath you,” I said with a wary sigh. “But you are correct. Blackbird has nothing to offer, so why don’t you go back to gold digging in New York or Silicon Valley, or wherever the laziest of the Discordant are hanging out these days?”

  “Seattle,” she said with a dismissive shrug. “It’s amazing, how much people will blame on the weather. It’s on the decline, mind you, but still years away from falling as far as this place.” She sat back and narrowed her eyes. “So why did you bring me here, Seth?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Quit bluffing,” she snapped. “All of the sudden I start thinking about this tiny shithole in the middle of nowhere and I can’t stop myself from packing up and leaving what is basically paradise for my type. When I get here, what do I find? The walking dead. The loser in life who played right into my plans has become exactly what a pathetic loser would be. A slave to Order. Not just any slave, but the lowest on the totem pole.”

  “I’m afraid you’re the one flattering yourself. I didn’t summon you, Amara,” I said with a tight smile. If she wasn’t lying, then it was possible the theory that all of the magic flying around last night opened up a portal had merit after all. My being here might have even been partially responsible for her being one of the Discordant drawn to Blackbird, but I wasn’t going to let her know that. “I’m not holding you here against your will,” I reminded her. “You are free to leave Bla
ckbird. In fact, the sooner the better.”

  She stared blankly at me for a moment before throwing her head back and laughing. “You’re kidding me right? I mean, for Chaos’ sake, Seth, you’re an Observer. The emo freak of the Order. You, of all people, should know why I’m in no hurry to leave. This place is ripe for the taking and since I’m already slumming, I plan to get a little something for my troubles. I mean, sure, it’s a little off the beaten path, no nightlife to speak of, and zip, zero, zilch on culture or importance. But hot damn, Seth, despair is delicious. I can’t wait to drain this town dry.”

  “And you think I’m going to sit back and let you do that?” I asked.

  “Oh no, of course not. That’s what’s going to make this even more fun. One way or another, I’m going to break you, Seth.”

  “Is that so?” The more she prattled on, the more I wondered if she had any plan at all.

  “You have no choice, Seth,” she said, crossing her arms and glaring at me like a petulant child. “You can try to stand in my way, but there’s nothing you or your pathetic Warrior can do to me. I’m invincible.”

  “See, that’s where you’re wrong, Amara. I do have a choice,” I said with what I hoped was a convincingly predatory smile. “You’re not invincible, darling, you’re protected by a fragile magic. Without me, you’re nothing. You’ll be vulnerable and you are no match for a Warrior of Order.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about putting the needs of others before myself,” I said calmly. “I understand that this is not a concept that you can wrap your selfish little head around, so I’ll spell it out for you. Should I choose to play the role of the martyr, Desmond will see to it that your soul is destroyed right alongside mine.”

  “You’d destroy your soul just to destroy me?”

  “Yes.”

  “You don’t have the balls,” she dismissed, but there was now an uncertainty in her tone.

  “Don’t I?” I reached down to pull my lunch bag out of the bottom drawer of my desk. It was a bit too early to eat, but if Amara was going to sit here and dog me in my office, I wasn’t going to make it pleasant for her. I popped the lid on the plastic container and stuck it in the microwave behind me. Within seconds, the whole of my small office was filled with the smell of fettuccini alfredo, heavy on the garlic.