by Krista Walsh
“You don’t think they’ll follow us here?”
“If the city’s best sorceress and I couldn’t trace the rift from Molly’s room, they shouldn’t be able to trace mine from Percy’s house.”
“That’s a big if.”
“And one I have to hold on to if I want to get any sleep tonight,” Gabe said. He sipped his drink and rested his head on Vera’s shoulder. “That orb is an interesting thing, isn’t it?”
She stiffened, although she realized she shouldn’t have been surprised it was preying on his mind. The moment Molly’s friend had revealed the orb’s purpose, she’d noticed Gabe’s captivation.
In the time they’d been together, he’d opened her eyes to the true weight of his burden, describing the cost of turning someone to stone — not just the guilt of stripping someone’s life away, but the physical agony to himself as he absorbed the depths of their memories and emotions. He still woke up in cold sweats from the last person he’d turned. She understood his desire to keep that ability as a last resort.
But it broke her heart that he hated so much of himself. It was true that she disliked the call for vengeance flowing through her own veins — the need to answer summons, the choice of whether or not to agree to the contract, the tedium of taking lives in retaliation for other people’s perceived insults. It upset her otherwise quiet and peaceful lifestyle. At the same time, she didn’t hate herself for it. Her ancestry was as much a part of who she was as her love of reading. To wish it weren’t the case was a futile waste of energy.
She hoped Gabe might one day see that for himself. Until then, she’d be watching how attached he became to the idea of the orb. She wasn’t beyond smashing it if she had to.
“I suppose,” she said, warily. “If you enjoy the sensation of having a limb torn from your body.”
He looked up at her. “You think?”
Vera shifted herself down the pillows so she rested on a level with him. “I imagine so. Our otherworldly energy is a part of us. It runs in our blood and makes a good chunk of who we are. Imagine if you suddenly weren’t as strong as you are now” — she cast him a sideways glance — “or if you started packing on the pounds with all the pizza you eat.”
Gabe’s hands trailed over his flat stomach, and Vera suppressed a smile.
Once he’d finished the inspection of his waistline, he took Vera’s hand. “It would also mean I couldn’t hurt anyone anymore. I could go for a walk and not have to worry about turning my neighbors to stone. I could mingle with the world for the first time in my life.”
“You’d lose your ability to rift from place to place,” Vera pointed out. “You’d either have to move your business to Boston or sell the farmhouse to move to New Haven.”
“I could take you out for nice dinners,” he said. “We could hop on a plane and travel the old-fashioned way. In the middle of the day, we could go to places with crowds.”
Vera didn’t think that sounded terribly appealing, but she understood his point, so she said nothing.
“My whole life has been ruled by this curse,” he said. “My brother’s death, my father leaving. I’ve been trapped behind a pair of sunglasses for thirty-four years, and now an opportunity has stepped in front of me to leave it all behind. To try something different. Something better.”
Vera nudged his shoulder. “If you weren’t who you are, you never would have met Jermaine, which means you never would have met me. I wouldn’t say that everything about your ability is horrible.”
He met her gaze and again her mind lurched. This time, she remembered the first time they’d met, standing in the dimly lit, stone-walled room, surrounded by people they didn’t know. Tomorrow, nearly all of those people would be invited into their home, once more working together, this time voluntarily.
The world was a strange place.
“I love you,” he said.
The words jerked Vera back to the present, stopping her heart.
She knew he did. She knew she loved him back. But this was the first time he’d said the words aloud, and they set off warm currents deep in her belly.
A smile stretched across her lips before she was aware of it. “I love you, too.”
“I wanted to tell you now, before we jump into this incredibly dangerous and high-risk situation,” he said, his smile grim. “I’d hate to miss my chance.”
The warmth of his disclosure evaporated as the reality behind it sank into Vera’s pores, creating a draft in the closed room. She didn’t want to lose what she had with him, but she knew it was possible there would be no choice in the matter. They had to be braced for anything to happen.
Gabe finished his drink, set it on the table, and rolled onto his side to pull her body closer against his. “Tomorrow, this house will act as a shelter for a half-dozen people. This might be the last night of quiet we have for a while.”
He didn’t go so far as to say it, but Vera understood what he meant. It might not just be for a while. Depending on how things went at Tartarus, they might never have a night like this again.
She downed her drink in a single gulp, her mouth twisting with a grimace at the strength of the alcohol, then set the empty glass on the table beside her.
“Then I guess we’d better make the most of it,” she said.
Gabe rolled onto his back, and Vera leaned over him and pressed her lips against his. Her hair fell over her shoulders, curtaining them both off from the rest of the world. Hidden behind her red locks, they sank into each other and allowed the rest of the world to wait its turn.
16
Zach walked the length of the back porch of the Harris house, too full of angry energy to go inside and sit with Molly’s parents. Ara was still with them, fortunately, so at least they had company.
He wanted to storm the prison. Lozak’s grin hovered in the forefront of his mind, taunting him, goading him. He wasn’t even sure the demon was among those who had taken her, but from the moment they’d faced off in the college, the mountainous bastard had become the poster boy of this growing trouble. The sooner Zach got another chance to fight him, the better.
He would have won last time, he was sure of it, if only that coward hadn’t turned tail and fled. All that power, and yet he’d still run back to daddy.
Or whoever had been in the car waiting for him.
Zach wished his weeks of research had answered that question at least. Maybe then he’d know who the real leader was. The person he should actually be aiming for. But Daphne’s contacts at the DMV had come up empty-handed on the plate number, discovering it was only a corporate car for Mayzell Industries. Yet another dead end.
Zach ran his palm over his head. Having Lozak at the top of this pyramid would have made sense. He was strong, and from what Zach had seen, a plausible leader. The fact that he was still a pawn in someone else’s game suggested a far more structured organization. And if Lozak was participating voluntarily, it must mean the compensation was worth his while.
He thought about the orb, still bundled in cloth in his pocket, and considered the high risk the demon was taking, being involved with whoever was looking for it.
Was it just for the sake of his freedom? Zach didn’t buy it. Tartarus was a horrible place, one where most demons would fear to go, but Lozak wasn’t a broken man. He struck Zach as the kind of demon who would have endured Tartarus with a stoic resignation. He’d bide his time waiting for his sentence to end and then continue on with his life the same way he’d done before he’d been caught. Captivity wasn’t enough to scare him.
So what was? If Zach could figure that out, maybe beating him wouldn’t be impossible.
Heat simmered under his skin and scales burst over the surface in patches. A colder heat burned along his spine, his ribs contorting as ridges pressed out between his shoulder blades.
Drawing in a breath, he worked to settle himself down. It wouldn’t do to lose control. Not here, where there was no one to fight. He had to get moving.
The back door
slid open, and Ara’s tiny frame slipped onto the porch. The top of her head only came as high as Zach’s chest, her figure a twig next to his massive trunk, and yet he bowed his head in deference to her. She might be small, but his mother had brought him up to respect his elders.
“I finally managed to convince them to go to sleep,” she said. “Steve is camped out on the couch. He refused to go home.”
Zach grunted. From everything Molly had told him about Steve, he’d expected to find a whiny kid who couldn’t face the realities of the world. Having met him, Zach accepted that he wasn’t whiny. At least he was concerned about Molly, even if he hadn’t believed her.
“What’s taking Gabe so long to get back here?” Zach growled.
Ara wrapped her arms around her middle, her mossy hair blowing in the cold breeze. “I know you’re anxious to get started, Zach, but have some trust. I can’t say I’ve known Gabe long, but I’ve seen him work. He won’t sit on his haunches or put off making decisions.”
Zach crossed his arms and refrained from glaring down at her. “If it were up to me, we’d be on our way right now. What’s the point in delaying?”
The corner of Ara’s mouth twitched upward, and her eyes glittered. “If you ran in right now, you’d be dead. You might be strong, daemelus, but you’re not stupid. You know it as well as I do.”
“I don’t care about myself,” he said. “The only thing holding me back is that I don’t want to do anything to risk Molly’s life. I accept that I need to work with the others to have the best shot at getting her out. I just wish there wasn’t so much waiting involved.”
In the distance, the first signs of dawn touched on the horizon. It wouldn’t be too much longer now.
“I’ve watched your friend,” Ara said. “I’ve seen her stubbornness and her determination. She does what she wants without letting anything stand in her way.”
She ran her fingers over the bark of the oak tree behind her and closed her eyes. “The first time she climbed down my branches, I was certain she was going to fall and break her neck. I even whispered to her in her dreams to stop taking so many risks. My suggestions were ignored.”
Zach stared at the woman in front of him, trying to reconcile her image with that of the tree behind her. Dryads were strange folk. Gossiping, flighty spirits, to hear some people tell about it. Ara had put all those expectations on their heads. She was quick and compassionate, gentle yet hard as flint.
“Will you join us to get her back?” he asked.
The smile she offered was enough of an answer. “I can do more by staying here. The girl’s family will need support, someone to assure them you’re doing all you can. I have faith in you, Zach. In all of you.” She let out a dry laugh. “Even the succubus will have something to offer, I’m sure, though you might need to play her wisely.”
“I have no concerns about her,” Zach said. He’d already pegged Allegra as the one who would put their mission at risk, so he would keep a close eye on her. At the first sign of trouble, he would deal with it.
“Be kind to her,” Ara said, her eyes narrowing, as though she read the anger on his face. “She’s different now than the last time I met her. Something happened that left her raw. Obviously her social graces haven’t changed, but something deeper has. Tread carefully. I worry if you push too hard, she might snap.”
Zach grunted. “I’ll take that into consideration.”
The sun touched the back of the fence, and Ara yawned. “If it’s all right with you,” she said, “I’m going to get a bit of rest while everyone else is sleeping. I’m sure I’ll be needed soon enough.”
“Go on,” he said, jerking his head toward the tree. “No need to worry about anyone coming for you. I’ll stand watch.”
Ara’s face lit up. “You are worthy of being a new race of guardian, you know. Not on anyone else’s terms, but on your own. I hope you’ll consider it.”
She gave him no time to respond. Before his eyes, her human guise faded, her skin growing browner and riddled with dark green veins that rose to the surface. Her arms gave way to branches, her fingers to twigs, and moss curled down her back. He only caught a glimpse before she melded into the trunk of the oak and disappeared.
Shaking his head at the strangeness of the sight, Zach turned toward the rising sun and closed his eyes, praying the coming day meant change and the destruction of those who deserved it.
***
It was eight o’clock, and Gabe still hadn’t shown up. Zach looped his shoulders, his spine and neck crackling with the movement after standing for so long in the dampness, and shook out his hands to work the circulation through his fingers.
Only once had he left his guard post between midnight and now, taking an hour to walk off his frenetic energy. After wandering the streets for a while, he’d turned his feet toward the place he’d chosen as his new home — the empty hospital, Peony House. There, he’d tracked down Dusty, the kitten he’d taken in at the college. Thanks to first Molly’s and then Daphne’s food donations, the furball had filled out in the middle, her black coat turning glossy and thick. She’d taken to mousing at the hospital, and he’d found her in the basement, pawing at something in the wall.
She’d whined when he’d taken her away from her play, but he didn’t want to leave her here with the elements while he was gone. He couldn’t guarantee he’d make it back, and he wanted to make sure she had a good place to stay if the worst should happen.
So he’d brought her back to the Harris home and put her inside. She’d jumped onto the couch beside Steve and promptly fallen asleep. Zach couldn’t deny feeling a bit of vindictive pleasure when Steve’s response to his new companion was to sneeze.
Hopefully Molly’s parents wouldn’t mind the kitten staying with them until he got back.
Now that he was sure his one dependent was safe, his thoughts had returned to the coming plan. How would they know where they were going? From everything Zach had read about Tartarus, the place was surrounded by safeguards that turned people’s minds away. It was accessible only by ferry, but taking it would be like waving a neon sign announcing their approach.
Let’s say they made it across the water: What other defenses would they have, except for their own abilities? Once they found Molly, how could he guarantee she remained safe while they focused on taking down the rest of the operation?
The sheer number of questions bombarding his mind was why he knew he couldn’t go on his own. He just had to hope that someone else had considered all these questions and had better answers than he was able to provide.
The door slid open, and Dana poked her head outside. “Any news?”
She didn’t look like she had slept at all, the bags under her eyes dark with worry and her hair flying about in all directions. She carried something in her hand, and it took Zach a moment to recognize Molly’s archery case.
“Not yet,” he said. “I’m waiting for Gabe to get here.”
Dana opened her mouth to say something, then closed it again without bothering. He guessed she was beyond asking questions she knew couldn’t be answered. For now, all she could do was wait and try to hold on to her sanity. At least Zach was in a position to do something. In that, he was better off than she was.
“I wonder if you would mind taking this,” she said, holding out the case. “I don’t know if it’ll be useful,” Her words were tight with restrained emotion, “but I’m sure Molly will want it when you find her.”
“I’ll make sure to give it to her,” Zach said, curling his fingers around the offered handle.
Dana nodded a silent thank you, and the muscles in her throat appeared to relax. “Do you want a coffee?”
The idea sent Zach’s taste buds swelling with anticipation, but his stomach revolted. “No. Thank you. But I’ll help you get it ready.”
It felt strange to be around people. There were so many niceties that needed to be remembered with humans.
He had one foot inside the living room when a warm dr
aft cut across the back of his neck. He turned around to find Gabe standing on the porch, his farmhouse revealed in the doorway behind him.
“About damned time,” Zach grumbled.
“I know. I’m sorry. I grabbed the others first, and there were delays getting everyone over.” His lips were pressed together, and Zach wondered what sort of mess had been created while he’d been gone. “Are you ready?”
Zach looked to Dana, wondering if he should continue his efforts to help her so she didn’t need to handle everything herself, or if it would put her more at ease to know someone was out looking for her daughter.
Ara settled the matter by stepping out of her tree, adopting her human form before Dana noticed her dryadic features. “I’ll help with breakfast,” she said. “You guys get going.”
Zach nodded and started toward the rift, but Dana grabbed his arm.
“Please,” she said, “tell me you can do this. Tell me you stand a chance at getting my baby back.”
Under her touch, Zach’s lungs seized, preventing him from drawing a breath. Her question wasn’t an easy one to answer. They didn’t even know yet what they would have to do.
Gabe stepped forward. “Ma’am, I know we look like a ragtag pack of mongrels, but each of us on our own have taken down some of the greatest threats this city has seen. Now we’re working together. We will find your daughter.”
His words shook off Zach’s numbness, and he placed his hand on Dana’s shoulder. “I’ll bring her back.”
Her brown eyes searched his, digging deeply into his soul, as though she were as otherworldly as he was. Eventually, she nodded and stepped backward. “Then I wish you good luck and God-speed.”
Leaving her to Ara’s care, Zach stepped through the rift, hoping he hadn’t just made a promise he wouldn’t be able to keep.