Divinity Circuit (Senyaza Series Book 5)

by Chrysoula Tzavelas

  The patterns were hypnotic. She saw a pregnant woman, a woman with a babe in arms, a sulky child. What the virus said didn’t make sense, didn’t follow from what he’d said before. What did Corbin’s father’s magic do with his mother’s love?

  In a voice dripping with sympathy, the virus added, “It’s hard for the elder half-mortals to love new people. They calcify as they age, their hearts becoming as stiff as frozen wood, something only a white-hot shot can pierce. The weaker and the younger cannot worm their way in. And when the half-mortals lose one of the few they do love, why, sometimes they shatter.”

  “That I believe,” said Marley, thinking of Zachariah. The children had burrowed into his heart somehow but she, far more independent, had never found a place there. “But—what, Corbin’s family doesn’t love him because he’s too young?”

  “Or too unlovable,” said the virus helpfully. “You’ll understand eventually.”

  All the people in the coffee shop vanished, and the sunny afternoon beyond the plate windows vanished like a black velvet curtain had dropped. “He is not unlovable. You are unlovable.”

  The virus bowed mockingly. “Alas, yes. So I’ve been told.”

  Marley placed both hands on the table, leaning forward. “How is Corbin containing you?”

  The virus had green eyes, unlike Corbin, which she only realized when they flashed red. “Somebody claimed him first. And so I help him instead. I’m not a complete stranger to collaboration.” Something clicked nearby and he added, “It’s better than waiting in a box.”

  “You’re never going to convince me that you’re helping him, so I wish you’d stop trying.” Something clicked again and Marley looked at the window. Neath sat just beyond, pawing at the glass. Bitterly, she said, “You’re not doing Neath right, either. She can walk through walls.”

  “She’s having a bit of trouble getting in this time,” said the virus. “Half-mortal magic is more powerful when I’m there to blow on the coals.”

  “What does that mean?” Marley asked. But he only grinned at her and vanished again, leaving her alone in the coffee shop, without even the illusion of other people to keep her company. It was colder, too, without the buzz and movement.

  Neath clicked against the window again, her tail lashing back and forth. Her meow was faint and nearly lost. Marley went to the door of the coffee shop and pulled on it, but it didn’t open. That was not even a little bit of a surprise. She pushed, too, just in case.

  It hadn’t been like this the last time she’d caught the virus. She’d been confused and in pain; she’d heard him whispering in her head--and was it a he even when it was inside of her? Probably not. Heard it whispering in her head. But she wasn’t in any pain at all now. Either it was so bad she was retreating from it, or something was different.

  Music started playing over the coffee shop speakers again. This time it was the song Skadi had sung as she’d healed Marley: a still soul marching off to war.

  Skadi had said that she would be more resistant to the virus now. But Skadi had also said she could catch it again if she thought about it too much. And Skadi had certainly implied that Corbin catching the virus had been an accident. How much could Skadi be believed? She had motivation to hide her role if the virus’s claim was true, but what motivation did the virus have to lie?

  It was silly thinking of the virus as a person, but the shape it took did so much of the work for her. It spoke as a person and smiled like a friend. And a virus couldn’t lie or tell the truth. A virus wasn’t even properly alive. Whatever the thing infecting Corbin was, the metaphor of a virus only went so far. It had a perspective, even if it wasn’t a person as she defined them.

  Given Branwyn’s skyscraper, she’d probably have to update that definition someday anyhow.

  Maybe she was partially resistant, and that’s why she was here. Maybe if she wasn’t here, she could fight back. Marley looked at the glass window, and then at the chair the virus had been sitting in. Even empty and cold, the coffee shop seemed so real. Her inhibitions against breaking stuff seemed so real, too.

  Neath meowed and Marley made a face. Life was a succession of choices and each choice changed who you were. Maybe now she was the sort of person who broke shop windows with chairs. There was only one way to find out.

  She picked up the chair and swung it at the glass. It bounced off with a bong, and she swung again, harder. That time she felt it in her wrists, and the window vibrated but didn’t break. One more time, harder, and her hands went numb from the recoil and the window still didn’t break.

  Neath meowed encouragingly and Marley ground her teeth. She was supposed to be stronger than this. She was a nephil, the virus’s ‘half-mortals’, and nephilim could be very tough and very strong if they tapped into their immortal magic. She couldn’t tap into her danger-sight, couldn’t make a shield, but she was stronger than this glass, she knew it. She had to be, because she wasn’t going to give up and die. Not with Neath right on the other side watching her. Not with Corbin and Branwyn and Penny waiting for her. Not with her mother waiting for an explanation about Zachariah.

  She swung the chair again, and it shattered in her hand. So then she tried the table, until it shattered, too. Then without thinking she tried her fist.

  It was like when Skadi had cured her. Agony climbed up her hand and through her wrist into her arm. Her heart pounded and her vision pulsed. She keened, holding her hand close.

  Neath started purring. Marley could hear it even through the glass as it grew louder and louder. The purring was odd. It reminded Marley of a car engine revving up. She felt hot and then hotter. Her body was suddenly far away and she watched as, dreamlike, she hit the glass one more time.

  It shattered in a crescendo, shards of glass clattering to the ground. Neath passed through them without being cut and reared up against Marley’s leg, begging to be picked up.

  Numbly, her body moving like she was remotely operating it, Marley picked up Neath. As soon as Neath was settled in her arms, the cat started purring again.

  Marley woke up.

  She was on a lumpy couch in a dimly lit room. At first she didn’t recognize it. But when she sat and looked around she realized it was the new motel room Corbin had moved to. The shades were drawn. Corbin was hunched over the laptop in the armchair, turned toward the front door.

  She spent a moment remembering what had maybe been in her head but hadn’t been a dream, because Neath was on her legs, purring still. She hadn’t expected to wake up on a couch in Corbin’s room, as if she’d just taken an unplanned nap.

  “Corbin?” she said softly.

  He looked over at her for a long moment, his eyes hollow. Then he looked back at his screen. “You’re awake. Good. Now you can go away again.”

  She ran her fingers down Neath’s back and looked at the curve of Corbin’s shoulders. “Corbin, does the virus… talk to you?”

  He glanced at her, a horrible smile creasing his face. “The virus is mind-expanding, magic-enhancing. I hear all sorts of things now, just like they wanted.”

  “Oh.” Her throat hurt and she swallowed convulsively.

  Putting the laptop aside, Corbin rose and fetched a glass of water. As he handed it to her, he wouldn’t meet her eyes. He looked haggard. “You can call a taxi from here. Your purse and phone are over there.”

  After pushing Neath to one side, she took the water and then caught his hand, pulling him down to the couch. He resisted, but only for a moment. Instead he slid his arm around her waist and rested his head on her shoulder. “I don’t know what you want from me, Marley. You said you wanted to help me, but you don’t. Not with what needs to be done.”

  “I want to go back in time and never let you go,” she said fiercely.

  His fist clenched in her shirt and he moved his mouth over her hair. “I would have gone anyhow. My uncle’s blood demanded a response. But I would have come back as soon as I could. I might have run to you instead of to my friends. Did Skadi really h
eal you before? She didn’t today.”

  Marley’s skin burned where his fingers brushed her hip. “She did, and what she did lingered. I don’t want to talk about her.” She put the water down and ran her fingers through his hair. “Do you remember teaching me magic?”

  “Yes,” he said softly. “A lot has changed since then.”

  “Not this,” she said, and kissed him. His mouth was soft and mobile against hers, until he groaned and pushed her away.

  “I can’t trust you, Marley. You let Skadi go, you still think Senyaza and Zachariah are doing right things.”

  The motel room door swung open and Neath meowed a greeting, stretching off the couch. Branwyn stood beyond, her eyes blazing. She held her hammer in one hand and her other one out flat. A curl of smoke drifted past her into the room. “Is Hadraniel the good guy here? Is that why you told him where the divinity circuit was?”

  Tiredly, Corbin said, “No. Everybody is a bad guy. Including me.” He stood. “Marley, you missed some calls while you were sleeping. Branwyn’s come to save you. Take her and go away.”

  “You think I should just leave and let you carry on with whatever you’re doing? You helped an angel get hold of something that can break the Hush, Corbin. I’ve felt it in action, Marley. It’s bad.”

  Branwyn’s eyes flickered around the room and she added, “Tell me he kept you here forcibly.”

  Marley hesitated, not entirely sure what was going on. She remembered that she’d been the one trying to lure the virus into answering her, remembered Corbin telling her to go.

  Branwyn’s face twisted. “Please don’t tell me you ditched us to get some snuggle time with the asshole here.”

  “No!” said Marley, starting forward. “Did I… Is it tomorrow? I was….” She frowned, remembering Hadraniel nodding to Corbin. “He gave the angel the divinity circuit? But—why?”

  “If you don’t know, what have you been doing all this time?” Branwyn demanded.

  “She was dying. I brought her here so we could keep her alive,” said Corbin, once again refusing to look at her. “Get out. Now.”

  “You can’t keep throwing me out, Corbin!” Marley reached for him and he shied away, knocking over the water he’d brought her. Neath yowled as her paws got wet.

  “You’re right,” he said. “Don’t come back and this will be the last time.”

  Branwyn said scornfully, “I thought you were different, Corbin. I thought of you as a friend. But I should have known better, eh? If you’re coming, Marley, let’s go.”

  Marley, bewildered, realized she didn’t know how to fix this. Corbin had helped Hadraniel get the divinity circuit. Corbin was going to do bad things, hurt people. He said so himself.

  But Corbin was sick.

  She remembered the virus smiling at her, telling her about Corbin’s family, claiming Corbin had contained it somehow.

  Slowly, Marley gathered up her bag and phone and followed Branwyn out the door. She couldn’t look at Corbin as she went.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Branwyn

  “Oh,” said Marley as she stepped into the sunshine. “What time is it?”

  “A little after noon. You were gone almost a full day, Marley,” said Branwyn and she stopped herself from saying more. Marley was good enough at punishing herself as it was.

  “Gah,” Marley said and shifted uncomfortably. “One of these days I really ought to take care of practicalities before storming out on him. Taxis, bathrooms, that kind of thing.”

  “It’s not like you,” Branwyn agreed as they got into her car. Neath trilled in what Branwyn was sure was agreement as she settled herself in the back seat.

  “He makes me crazy. And the more time I spend with him—” She shook her head. “Is everybody all right? Did you manage to get the angel anyhow?”

  “No, we didn’t. And no, I can’t really say everybody is all right. I’m sure the full damage will be on the six o clock news. There was a nine car pile-up, and people were falling off staircases and one woman has possibly lost her mind and I don’t know what else. Right now we need to go make sure Rhianna is all right because it’s just possible one of the kaiju is trying to kill her.”

  Marley ran her hands through her hair. “Oh my God.” She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, then opened them again and exhaled. “What did Rhianna do?”

  “Tattled,” said Branwyn.

  “That… that doesn’t sound like the Rhianna I know,” said Marley hesitantly.

  “Yeah, funny thing about magic, it makes everybody act out of character.”

  “I don’t think it’s magic in my case, Bran,” said Marley quietly.

  Branwyn frowned and kept her eyes firmly on the road. “I’m trying not to think about that.”

  “I think he was going to tell me about Hadraniel,” Marley pressed on, clearly determined to talk it through anyhow. “Before…. Before I immediately told you.”

  “Yes, and then what happened? He kidnapped you? Sent text messages for you?” Branwyn couldn’t keep the edge out of her voice.

  “It wasn’t him. I thought I could catch the virus,” Marley confessed. “It keeps talking through Corbin and I thought I could catch it and make it talk to me.”

  “Did you say that out loud before trying it? You wanted to catch the virus? Congratulations, it sounds like you relapsed.”

  Marley’s cheeks got hot. “There wasn’t really time. I was afraid, Bran. The thing with Skadi went really, really badly and then Corbin got upset—”

  “You were afraid of Corbin?” said Branwyn. “We have got to talk, Marley—”

  “No,” said Marley hastily. “I was afraid of the virus. It was controlling his body, saying things through him.”

  “You mean, like he was possessed?” asked Branwyn, remembering what had happened to Penny a year ago. Penny’s angel, the one she’d loved, had moved into her soul and started burning it away, speaking through her mouth and partially controlling her body, before leaving her to die.

  Marley went still. “Yes. But celestials can’t possess nephilim because nephilim don’t have souls.”

  Branwyn shrugged as she steered the car. “Maybe somebody figured out how to do it.”

  “I don’t even—I need to look in some books. Talk to Senyaza. Something.”

  “You’ve got to save it for later, Research Girl. I need you and your magic now.”

  “For Rhianna. Right. Well. You might as well fill me in on what happened, then.”

  Branwyn did her best to relate her scattered impressions of the fight. It filled the time until they arrived at her family’s house. It was mid-afternoon on Friday and nobody was home except Branwyn’s grandmother and her eldest younger brother Howl.

  “You think she’s here?” Marley asked skeptically as Neath leapt out of the car and started trotting up the walk.

  “I think I’m going to start here and end in Washington, DC if I have to, and I’ll find her somewhere along the way.” Her phone beeped, with the tone she’d assigned to Titanone. She didn’t want to look, but she did anyhow.

  You’ve been looking at your bank website a lot.

  Branwyn squeezed her eyes shut and then opened them again, hoping she hadn’t seen that. But the words remained, glowing on her phone screen. “I need a minute, Marley.”

  Why are you still watching what I’m doing on my phone?

  What? I’m not doing that, the screen said and Branwyn remembered more than one toddler sibling lying about what she could plainly see.

  How about we find you some kind of web game to play instead? Bejeweled is great.

  After a few moments the screen flashed again. That does look fun. Hey, do you want me to give you some more money? Senyaza has a lot, way more than you, and the pathway is already established.

  No! That isn’t your money to give.

  Maybe it is. Maybe I’m Senyaza.

  No. I don’t want Senyaza’s money.

  Oh. Then, a moment later, Don’t look at your bank accou
nt again today?

  Branwyn ran her hand over her face. Go play Bejeweled.

  Right.

  “Tonight is going to be a riot,” said Branwyn bitterly. “I don’t know if I can stand it.”

  “Titanone?” asked Marley.

  “He’s such a child, Marley. A child who can get into my phone and access bank accounts. I didn’t mean to make a child.”

  Marley got a funny look on her face. “Yeah, I know about dangerous children unexpectedly dropping into your life.”

  “At least yours were dropped on you by somebody else.” Branwyn laced her fingers together, stretched them, and looked at her family’s house. “Right. First things first. Rhianna. We look here and then we go to DC and shake her until her teeth clatter.”

  “Maybe you ought to try calling her before you go to the other side of the country,” suggested Marley judiciously.

  “So she can run away? Hell no.” Branwyn started up the walk and Marley caught her arm.

  “You’re really angry at her, Branwyn?”

  Branwyn pulled away and tugged on her hair. “Yes. I don’t know. We could have had this thing if she hadn’t told her boss what was going on. And now she’s got some kaiju ready to kill her if I can’t sort it out.”

  “And?” asked Marley.

  Branwyn scowled. “And nothing is working out like I thought it would. I did stupid things and now I have to deal with the consequences and I’m angry at myself. There. Is that what you wanted to hear?” Marley’s blue eyes flickered over her face and she held up her hand. “And don’t look at me with your magic—”

  “I’m not,” said Marley mildly. “I’m trying to stick to doing things that will actually help and it’s obvious that never does. I’ve never been particularly centered but you always have been.”