Bitten in Two

by Jennifer Rardin

  Vayl said, “You shoved me back into a hell I thought I had escaped. You tore me from the woman I cannot survive without. This will not stand.” His free hand went to Ahmed’s chest.

  Holy Christ, is he gonna rip out his heart? I stepped forward.

  Ahmed blubbered, “Wait! Please! The redhead said you needed information on the bauble in my back room. The Enkyklios ball? It’s part of Roldan’s payment! I can tell you why he had it in the first—ulp!”

  Vayl shook his head. “No. You are done.” He covered Ahmed’s open mouth, still wagging with suggestions and excuses, with the hand that had threatened his heart. And suddenly all of the bells in the shop began to clang. The breeze, focused by his cantrantia so that only the mage felt the full effect of Vayl’s power as a Wraith, came cold as an Arctic storm, splintered into his eyeballs, iced his veins, turned his skin blue. Before Vayl had finished even Ahmed’s fingernails had frozen solid.

  Vayl turned, looked at us silently.

  I knew the moment required something immense from me. But before I could dredge up the right response the front door flew open, Cole’s cabinet barricade splintering like rotten wood under the onslaught of two massive werewolves. The platinum streaks in the larger wolf along with his big-eared rider proved that he and his Luureken would have to be put down the old-fashioned way. The second wolf’s dark brown fur marked him as the one we’d seen hip-deep in oranges with no partner in sight. Now we knew his rider was a dimpled blonde with hate burning like hellfire in her eyes.

  The Luureken each brandished a raes in one hand and a fury so deep it seemed to paint the doorway black. We only hesitated a beat or two, but in that time Vayl had already moved to meet them. He left Ahmed to fall like a block of glacial ice behind him and sent the gale of his rage ahead of him, knowing we had our own ways of dealing with his fallout.

  The Luureken didn’t. They froze in their seats, the spittle from their furious shrieks beading like pearls on their cheeks. Their Weres, whose wounds had taken on the pink of new tissue from the outside, evidently still hadn’t fully pulled together on the inside. Because I could hear those torn and shattered tissues crackle and break like thin ice. Their mouths opened, fearsome howls cut off instantly by the rime building inside their throats. And that was all the time we needed.

  I hauled Grief out of its holster like a gunfighter in a ten-step standoff. Pumped every bit of ammo I had left into the bodies of those two wolves. And watched them fall with about as much satisfaction as I felt when I witnessed my towels spinning in the dryer.

  Cole shot a single round into the leader’s Luureken, sending it tumbling out of the doorway in a shower of destroyed wood and blood splatter.

  The female berserker just sat where she’d rolled when her mount had gone down, still paralyzed by Vayl’s attack.

  We gathered around it. Kyphas nudged it with her toe. It blinked so slowly we could hear the frost on its eyelids crackle.

  “Now what?” asked Cole.

  We all jumped as the other Luureken came flying back through the door and slammed into a huge gong that Ahmed had erected, making such a racket that everybody with the exception of Vayl covered their ears. I wanted to assume the body-thrower was an ally, but the crouch I took reminded me not to hesitate too long because bad guys had ways of putting you off your guard too. Then Raoul followed the body through the door, his face such a dark shade of red I’d have suspected imminent heart attack if he hadn’t already, you know, gone over.

  “Pick up your trash!” he thundered as he glared at the five of us, giving the rest of the dead only a brief glance. He slammed his fist against the doorframe and all the shattered door pieces pulled back together, closing the shop behind him. “And while you’re at it, dump this in the garbage too!” He shoved Astral into my arms.

  She looked up at me, her eyes crossing slightly as they met mine. “Hello!”

  “Hey, kittybot.” I gave her a brief inspection, did the same for Raoul, and took a wild guess at the problem. “Astral, tell me you didn’t freak out Raoul’s girl.”

  Raoul waved me off. “Astral was fine,” he snapped, his accent thicker than I’d ever heard it. “Better than that. She was so charming I was surprised little birds didn’t appear and start singing as they flew tiny circles around her head.”

  I felt the knot in my chest loosen. If my cat had ruined Raoul’s chance at romance I wasn’t sure I could forgive her.

  Cole decided to be daring and ask, “What happened?”

  “Nia spent our entire date cooing over that dratted half animal.” He threw up his arms. “How was I supposed to know she was a cat lady?”

  I holstered Grief and tried desperately to make the transition from Were-killer to Spirit Guide confidant. “What?”

  “She told me she had twenty-four cats when she was human. Liked them better than people!” He nodded to assure me I hadn’t heard him wrong. “How can you like a cat better than a person? They don’t even talk!”

  “Hello.” Was it my imagination, or did Astral sound offended?

  I looked at Cole and shrugged. “I got nothing.”

  Cole murmured, “I could tell him there are other fish in the sea, but he’s not going to want to hear that for at least a couple of weeks.”

  Vayl stepped forward. “Raoul, I have just remembered that you and I barely get along. Would you agree?”

  “I suppose so,” Raoul said carefully.

  “I think, in this case, that is to your advantage. As is the fact that I am older and, therefore, a great deal more experienced in these matters than you.”

  Raoul’s mouth dropped slightly, but he nodded like he was willing to hear Vayl out.

  “You will feel better if you kill something evil. And we seem to have happened on a generous supply.” He motioned to the wolves, all of which would recover to attack us again. Unless Raoul wanted to send them into the next world—which he could pretty much do with a word and a tap on the head.

  I knew he was giving the idea serious consideration when he took a look around the place, his eyes resting on broken displays, the casualties, our diverse array of weaponry.

  “You people need your own cleanup crew, you know that?”

  I said, “Does that mean you’re staying?”

  “What’s the upside for you?” my Spirit Guide asked.

  I pointed at the surviving Luureken. “They seem to have some Rocenz-related information.”

  Vayl asked, “Do you recognize this breed?”

  Raoul nodded, suddenly sober. “How do you intend to get them to talk? I’ve never seen a berserker articulate enough to get past a scream.”

  We all looked at Sterling as Vayl said, “You have never seen the greatest warlock on earth in action either.”

  “Then I’ll dispatch these Weres for you, shall I?” Raoul asked.

  We nodded, except for Sterling, who pointed to the frozen female and said, “Leave her to me.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Are you sure you want to do this?” asked Raoul. It was the third time he’d said it, confirming his unease with our plan, which was, I’ll admit, one of our most grisly. My Spirit Guide leaned against the desk in Ahmed’s office with his arms crossed, the extra creases in his uniform reflecting his agitation as a framed picture of King Mohammed VI grinned over his shoulder.

  I looked up from the corpse whose forearm skin I was carving off with my bolo and was glad for once that Vayl wasn’t there to see me despite the fact that Sterling’s spell, and this particular component of it, had all been his idea. Which was, maybe, why he’d volunteered to keep watch over the one Were Raoul hadn’t sent to the netherworld—the female Luureken who was still mostly an ice pop with rage filling lying beside the front door.

  She was alone at the front now, because at Sterling’s direction we’d dragged all the dead back to the office. Then Cole and Kyphas had gone out to find the bodies of the other Luureken. Their job was to bring back pieces of at least two of them, which were also necessa
ry for his spell. Impossible? Maybe for anyone else. I gave them even odds.

  I glanced at Raoul, whose grimace told me he was less grossed out, but more offended, than me. I said, “What is it?”

  “Mutilating corpses is a crime,” Raoul informed me.

  “So is trying to kill us.” I finished slicing off a patch about three inches square and threw it in the middle of the floor. The slap of dead flesh against cold tile made my teeth ache. I hit the bathroom to clean up, and by the time I came out Cole and Kyphas had returned, pale but triumphant. Predictably, the demon was the one who presented Sterling with their prizes.

  “On the floor with the other one,” he told them, pointing to where he’d be working.

  Cole sank onto the chair, not even protesting when Kyphas began to rub his shoulders. He just stared at the two flaps of skin they’d retrieved as Raoul asked, “What is the purpose of this ceremony?”

  I stood in the doorway, unable to let Vayl out of my sight for long, and said, “We’re raising the ghosts of the Luureken we killed.”

  Sterling knelt over the skins, adding his own mix of herbs and powders. He hummed under his breath, the lightning-trapped sphere of his amulet swinging in wide circles as he moved.

  Raoul asked, “How is that possible? Sterling’s no medium.”

  “Nope. But then, they won’t be real ghosts, so it’s a good balance.”

  He nodded. “Ah, illusory spirits?”

  “The best kind. Of course, our little berserker in there will think they’re real ghosts. And that’s all we need.”

  He glanced up. Muttered something I couldn’t understand.

  Cole asked, “Getting a text from the saint patrol, Raoul?”

  “They’re out of their comfort zone again.” His eyes glittered as he glanced at me. “It should please you to know they’ve actually come up with their own phrase for the danger you put me in, which doubles as their order for me to return to base.”

  “What is it?” Cole demanded.

  “DEFCON Parks.”

  I moaned. “That’s just lame.”

  Raoul chuckled. “And now you’ve described half the Eldhayr.”

  I cocked my head, realizing suddenly the risk Raoul had taken saving my life. Vouching for me with the bigwigs upstairs. Showing when I called despite the fact that my closest relationship was with a creature who’d all but trashed his soul. “How much trouble do you get into hanging out with me?”

  A sudden, rare smile. “Only enough to make it worth my while.”

  I walked over to stand beside him. He stiffened a little when my shoulder brushed his, but relaxed almost immediately. “I think they’ll clear you for this deal. It looks nasty from the outside, but Sterling’s got tight control of the situation. We know whatever we can find out about the Weres and the Enkyklios ball could get us a lot closer to the Rocenz. All we’re gonna do is some creative information gathering.”

  Vayl said, “And if that does not work, you should leave. Because I will not relent until the Luureken has told me what I need to know in order to free Jasmine.” He’d come to the doorway, his fierce expression reminding me more of Lord Brâncoveanu than my sverhamin. I felt a heavy weight settle on my chest, but before it could sink in he said, “She has suffered long enough. I will have an end to it.”

  I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed having Vayl in my corner until that moment, when it was all I could do not to run sobbing into his arms like some spineless airhead. I turned to Sterling. “How’s it going?”

  “Give me some room,” he replied.

  We shuffled into the open space behind the counter, each of us taking turns watching him work and gauging the mood of the thawing Luureken that still sprawled in the blood of her comrades. Cole pulled out his Beretta and stepped away from Kyphas’s full-body lean, making her plant both feet wide to keep from stumbling. She nearly stepped on Astral, who sat quietly at Raoul’s feet like he’d found her off switch. He crouched down and ran a finger along her forehead and back between her ears, making them twitch to the side. The other hand reached down and pressed into the heel of his boot. When his thumb jerked back, the hilt of a knife came with it. He pulled it free and stood, holding it comfortably at his side, a shining blade just long enough to pierce a Luureken’s heart.

  Sterling ignored our preparations because he was still busy with his own. He added a few more dried leaves to the pile, whispered over it, “Shades of shades, rise and speak, mouth my words.”

  His amulet seemed to be moving on its own now, drawing a circle around the pile on the floor. He hesitated another second. Then he brought his left hand up to the chain, pulled the necklace straight and still. A bolt of shiny silver light shot from its glittering center down onto the concoction. It caught fire, burned white-hot, and then stopped, leaving nothing but ash behind.

  He leaned over again, only this time he drove his fist into the pile. Sparks flew from his ring as the ash exploded into the air. It reminded me of a volcanic eruption, only in miniature. When Sterling stepped back, however, not a single speck of the material had settled on him.

  “Where’d it go?” I whispered.

  “Around,” he assured me.

  “Uh-huh.” I looked at the ceiling doubtfully. “Nothing seems different to me.”

  Sterling’s jaw worked itself long enough that I realized I’d just insulted him. I sighed. Why did I always land the brilliant, sensitive types? “I’m just asking you what the Luureken is going to see that I’m not,” I said.

  “Oh.” He glanced at Vayl, who raised an eyebrow.

  “Her words often take more than a single meaning,” my sverhamin explained. “Perhaps this would be a good rule for you to remember before the two of you end up destroying another building.”

  I stared up at him, thinking, Oh, so he knew all along. Yeah, Pete probably trotted out all the gory details of my solo exploits for him. And still he demanded to bring me on as his assistant. Which is kind of how I feel right now. Back to square one, before he’d even looked at me sideways. Which isn’t fair. Maybe he feels just as confused as I do. Who’s ever going to know with a guy who signals his deepest emotions with a twitch?

  Save it for later, I answered myself as I turned away from him and locked my hands behind my back. We’re working, so let’s work. And if we’re going to ignore the fact that we both decided to gloss over what should’ve been a major reunion moment, then fine. It would’ve been weird with an audience anyway. Especially considering the fact that Vayl’s first reaction to becoming uncursed was to kill the guy.

  Then I felt his hands slide over mine. Cirilai had ridden up my finger. He pushed it back down, then raised my arms just enough so he could push forward, press his hips into my back. The rumble of his voice worked like a bell, ringing through my body as he said, “I am curious as well, Sterling. Will the illusions only be visible to the Luureken?”

  Sterling’s smile seemed to acknowledge more than the question as he looked down at the original spot of his spell. “You’ll see the illusions. She’ll see ghosts. And hear them, in whatever language they were in the habit of speaking. I’d rate the freak-out factor at about a nine and a half.”

  I felt a grin play at the corner of my lips, now that I understood. And especially now that Vayl’s thumbs were rubbing my palms while his fingers wrapped my wrists so tight it felt like he never planned to let go.

  Less than fifteen seconds later the two Luureken whose remains Cole and Kyphas had salvaged rose out of the floor. Even though Sterling had only created echoes of their spirits, I felt their rage like needles rolling along the length of my exposed skin, an acid-green hatred that spewed on everything it touched.

  How such ordinary-looking people could contain all that madness I couldn’t guess. At first glance they resembled a couple of child-sized grown-ups dressed in street clothes. But you can’t hide real evil. The man who’d masqueraded as the snake-photo seller’s son had come, the scar crawling along his face and down to his neck like
an active disease. Joining him was the flame-eyed girl that Sterling and Kyphas had originally marked. Her scars, which had been even deeper in life than her partner’s, pulsed as if she still had a heartbeat.

  “I’m going to fuck somebody up,” she said to her partner, her voice high as a child’s as they paused by Ahmed’s desk.

  “We’re dead, Cleahd,” said the man. “You don’t get more fucked up than this.” It was supposed to be a joke, but neither of them laughed. They just stared at each other with eyes the color of burning logs that kept getting brighter, and hotter, until I began to be amazed one of them didn’t burst out screaming.

  Finally Cleahd shoved the knuckles of her first two fingers against her lips and said, “Wrull, one of us is still alive. Don’t you feel it? She’s waiting.’”

  Sterling caressed the ring on his pinkie and whispered, mouthing the words Wrull spoke moments later.

  “We have to talk to her,” he said. “Come on.”

  Ignoring us as if we were just a set of drums Ahmed had decided to use as doorstops until he had time to price us, they drifted into the hall and toward the surviving Luureken, who was just beginning to sit up. They sat across from her, staring into her confused face as they tucked their knees under their chins and wrapped their arms around them like schoolgirls preparing to play a good game.

  At nearly the same time the third illusion walked through the front door. It was the leader’s rider, looking so real that I reached for Grief before my brain reminded my hand that Sterling was just that good.

  The first two berserkers looked at the new arrival and whispered his name, “Nedo,” worshipfully. Then they waited for him to speak, like it was his job to ask the questions they wanted answered. Weird how the rules of life follow into the afterlife, and then even into the magical faking of it.