Secrets of Skin and Stone

by Wendy Laine

  Holy hell! There were more fiends here in her room tonight than last time.

  I might be in over my head. This might be the definition of in over my head.

  The ghostly shades ate the light as they prowled her room. They hovered around her sleeping form, hissing at me. At least they weren’t as aggressive as the ones in the mill—the ones in the mill had converged on me all at once. These were passively hostile. Killing them all would be too loud—and once I attacked, it was likely to get nasty. I’d never thought of myself as outnumbered before, but I was most definitely eyeballing that scenario. A dozen fiends against one Watcher. Those odds weren’t pretty. I’d still dive in and hope for the best, but not with Piper in the middle of this storm of vapor. That many fiends with her fragile mortal body in the eye of the storm…no way. Too loud. Too dangerous.

  Leaving the window open, I shoved against them with the darkness I could command. Propelling them away took more effort than killing them, but made them less mean, and it was quieter. It took me ten minutes to rid the room of all but two. Sweat dripped down my face. I was gonna have to eat several meals and sleep all day to make up for tonight.

  The last two fiends clung to Piper’s body, snarling. One had wrapped itself around her neck tighter than the bark on a tree, and its great mouth was attached to her shoulder, the one I’d seen the cuts on. The other was prone across her body. Hell, this was new. Their gray-green bodies shimmered and tightened around her possessively. They weren’t going and, no matter how many times I pushed at them, my powers wouldn’t dislodge them.

  I’d have to kill these two. Piper squirmed beneath them as if under the influence of a nightmare. Bedeviled. She wouldn’t wake up until they left. She muttered under her breath—numbers. Weird. Only even numbers—weirder.

  Approaching the bed, I shook my hands out. It was true I hadn’t done this exact thing. Normally, fiends didn’t wind themselves around a person. They didn’t need to get that close to feed off their minds. Okay. Okay. I shook my hands out again. I’d been killing fiends for a decade. This wasn’t much different, other than it being Piper, and they were much closer than usual. I could do this. I’d grab their hearts and be done. Piper wouldn’t feel a thing if I was careful. I could be careful. Very careful.

  I dodged toward them, reaching out, but they both twisted away from my talons, and I pulled up short so I wouldn’t harm Piper. Damn.

  The fiend prone across her wriggled upward, elongating into a rope that crept into her mouth. She gagged and shivered.

  Aw hell. I paced back and forth in the room. How was I supposed to get this out of her? What if the other one went in? I stopped and took a deep breath. I could bang my head against this wall and hope for the best or I could ask for help. Again.

  Piper shuddered.

  It was Piper.

  Yanking the darkness around the room to shroud the noise, I redialed. Dad had more experience, especially in dealing with bedevilings. I’d had to partially shift back to use my fingers, and the strange mixture of Watcher and Gris made me feel more unnatural than ever. I was split between my two worlds.

  “What happened?” he asked.

  I swallowed, concentrating on forming my human tongue in my Watcher mouth. I caught a glimpse of myself in Piper’s bedroom mirror and turned away quickly. “I stopped by Piper’s house to clear it of fiends and one slithered into her mouth.” I enunciated slowly. My mouth felt like a beak instead of lips.

  “Aw hell,” Dad said. “This was supposed to be a simple solo job. I didn’t deal with this level of bedeviling until I was in my thirties. Okay, You’ll have to kill it.” I heard my dad leaving a room and the rustle of fabric as he pulled on clothes. He probably didn’t want my mom to hear about this.

  “Them. I‘ll need to kill them.”

  “More than one?”

  “The other one is wound around her neck and body. I didn’t want it going in, too.”

  Silence. Dad must be stunned. I waited for him to recover. “This has escalated. You’re dealing me in after this.”

  “Maybe.”

  I heard what sounded like a cross between a growl and a groan from my father. “Fine. This is how you do it. Kill the one around her neck first because, you’re right, it might go in, too, and then you’re screwed. After you’ve done that, pull the fiend out of her using your palm over her mouth.”

  “Pull it out?” I repeated.

  “Use the same energy you use to turn off the lights inside a house from outside.”

  “She won’t be able to breathe.” I’d be stealing the breath right from her lungs. It’d choke her.

  “No, she won’t be able to breathe, so do it real fast. Then, kill it quick before it dives back in.”

  “I’ve never seen this before.” I’d never even heard of it.

  “Because it hardly ever happens. They don’t normally do this unless they’re older, and I’m guessing it was summoned by something in the room. You’ve got more curse bags to find. But get it out first. It’ll eat her mind from the inside if you don’t.”

  “Eat her mind?”

  “She won’t wake up outside of this nightmare—she won’t be able to. Bedeviling from the inside locks in the fiend until she dies so they don’t normally do this unless they’re baited with some strong emotions.”

  “Her dog was just killed.” I paused. “Maybe this was why.” Somebody had turned Piper into living bait. I watched her shiver on the bed. Damn. I had to find out who was responsible for all this. “But, you’ve done this before? Pulled a fiend out from inside a person?”

  “Once. Successfully. Normally, we’re too late. It looks like an exorcism—feels like one, too. Send me a message when you’re done.”

  “Okay.” I turned off the phone and slipped it into my pocket.

  The fiend twisted around her neck was wholly focused on her shoulder. I waited until I was a foot away and plunged my talons through its torso, grabbing its heart. It screeched as I yanked the pulsing black mound out. Everything dissolved a moment later, turning to oozing black blood. It dripped through my gray fingers down to the floor—a murky puddle that melted out of sight.

  One down.

  I climbed onto Piper’s bed. I’d never even thought to pull a fiend out of somebody, nor imagined it would come to this.

  Her quilt was checkered patterns of red and white material with hearts quilted in—strangely grotesque given the circumstances. As I peeled the quilt away from her shivering body, my claws caught in the cotton fabric, and I kept dropping it. Dammit.

  I could do this.

  I could.

  I needed to. She didn’t have much time, and I’d been the fool who’d spooked the fiend into her.

  She seized as the shudders from her vapory inhabitant rattled her frame. Her muttering increased. More even numbers. She skipped backward and forward but always even numbers. “No more,” she hissed, shaking. “Cold. So cold. Six. Four. Twelve.”

  I had to stay in full transform to use all my Watcher powers. My slick-skinned body, normally so agile, was awkward and bulky as I straddled her slim frame, trying not to press too firmly. She was so tiny.

  There was a new cut on her shoulder.

  Damn. I’d wondered. She had more bedeviling her than just fiends. I shook it off. Time to get that thing out of her.

  “Fourteen. Fourteen.” Her body shook so abruptly I damn near slid off.

  I took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

  I covered her mouth with my hand, but drawing the darkness out using my palm made her gag as she inhaled through her nose. Oh hell, that wouldn’t work. I’d need to cover both her nose and mouth. Wrong. So wrong. I’d be smothering her.

  Sitting back, I tried to work up to it. I could do this.

  After a cough, she murmured, “Eight” and then moaned as her body arched beneath a violent shudder from the fiend. Her eyes twitched behind her lids as she jerked and twisted.

  I covered her nose and mouth with my palm and pulled at t
he fiend’s vapor inside her. Her body contorted under mine, and I put a leg against hers as she bucked. One of her hands wriggled free and yanked at mine, breaking my concentration. The fiend slid back as she gagged and turned her head to the side. I pulled my hand away from her face again.

  She took gulping breaths and coughed out, “Eighty-eight. No.” She shook her head. “No. No. No.”

  Hellfire, why didn’t I know how to do this? I couldn’t concentrate and restrain her.

  New plan. Lying across her as the fiend had been before entering her, I trapped her torso and pinned both of her arms. I lay my palm over her nose.

  This had to work.

  Her body was a violent tornado under mine as she panted hoarsely through her mouth.

  Just because I didn’t use my mouth like this normally, didn’t mean that it wouldn’t work. Fiends couldn’t get into my mind. That was another edge we had on the rest of the world—besides our Watcher bodies. So, this plan was logical. Terrifying, but logical.

  It had to work.

  I had to do this.

  I was out of options. After a deep breath, I covered her mouth with mine, inhaling the darkness from inside her and pushing it out my nostrils. She twisted and bucked, her neck arching, struggling for breath.

  This was disgusting. I was a monster, but I couldn’t stop. I was too far into the process to stop.

  The fiend filtered through me, scalding my throat and nose. Beads of sweat collected on my skin, and my eyesight went red and then black as I felt the last wisp of the fiend draw through me. I surged up, reaching blindly in front of me as stars burst across my vision. I could feel the fiend—could feel the blackness. I plunged my talons through its chest and groped for the thick blob.

  My hand finally found the fiend’s heart, and I yanked it out, squeezing it tighter than I normally did. Bastard had gone inside her—it deserved more than just death. Its heart drizzled through my fingers. My vision flashed, bursts of bright stars against a midnight black. My body transformed back so quickly that my muscles stung.

  “Piper?” I whispered.

  For a moment, it seemed as if she wasn’t breathing. I froze. I held my breath—needing her to take one of her own. Then, she inhaled deeply and coughed.

  Chapter Eight

  Piper

  I woke up coughing with my throat on fire. A dead weight sat on my chest. I’d had this nightmare before, many times. The dead weight. The darkness. Usually there was screeching. At least there wasn’t screeching this time.

  Suddenly, the weight lifted.

  Cutting the silence, a voice asked, “Are you okay, Piper?”

  I jumped up and slammed my back against the headboard of my bed.

  “Hush, Piper, it’s me, Gris.”

  His hand touched mine. Knowing it was him was only slightly less terrifying.

  As my mind bounced around in time with my raspy breathing, I heard footsteps out in the hall. Oh crap. The hall light turned on, and a rectangle of light appeared underneath the door. Somebody was coming. Gris was in my room, and somebody was coming. They’d wanna know what a boy was doing in my room in the middle of the night which, admittedly, I’d like the answer to as well.

  Something, presumably Gris, hit the floor right beside my bed as my door opened.

  Gris. Gris was in my room.

  The light from the hall blinded me as my mama looked in. I covered my shoulder with my hand.

  “Are you okay, Piper?” she asked.

  My breath came out in quick gasps. I swallowed my panic in a thick gulp. Ouch. That stung. What was up with my throat?

  I could handle this. Gris didn’t scare me. My mama finding out about Gris being here…that put the fear in me. “Nothing, Mama. Nightmare. It was nothing.” I’d managed to sound almost calm. My voice came out croaky, but that would fit with the nightmare story I was selling. I swallowed again. Ow. Ow. Sandpaper would have gone down softer than that gulp.

  “You feeling okay?”

  The light from my nightlight and the hallway was enough for me to see the bottle of water at my bedside. Turning so the cuts on my shoulder weren’t visible, I smiled tightly and grabbed my water bottle. “Just thirsty.”

  While drinking, I slid my hand under my pillow, searching for that flashlight. Oh, I’d be seeing Gris’s face when he explained. And, there would be an explanation this time.

  He was in my frakking room!

  My room.

  Okay. Okay. Be cool, Piper.

  Mama ran a hand through her hair. She took a deep breath. “Do you want me to lock you in, sugar?”

  My dad had installed a deadbolt lock over the summer for those nights I was prone to sleepwalking. Sometimes, I’d ask to be locked in, knowing in a true emergency I could always climb out my window. Mama would unlock it in the morning before I got up.

  I nodded in quick jerks. “Sure, that’s fine.” It would reassure her I wasn’t about to run out and create more problems.

  She closed the door, and I flicked on the flashlight, tiptoeing over to the door to lock it from my side. After the sound of her footsteps had died off, I approached my bed at a slow pace.

  For once, something in my bedroom might be even stranger than I was expecting. I crawled across my bed with the flashlight. My quilt was completely off, but I wasn’t cold. I was always cold. Then again, it wasn’t often I had a tall, half-naked boy lying on my floor with a concerned look on his face. Very tall. Very half-naked. Very concerned-looking.

  “Are you okay?” he whispered.

  “Am I okay?” I half whispered between my teeth. Of course I wasn’t okay. He was in my room in the middle of the night, and I’d woken up with my throat on fire. Good night, was he for real? “What are you doing in my room?” And why wasn’t he wearing a shirt or shoes? I blinked. Wow, he had a really strong chest for being so tall and thin. He should never wear a shirt. I shouldn’t have noticed that, but it was right in front of me. How on this great, green earth did he manage to have such a nice chest when he looked ready to disappear if he turned sideways? It was as if all he owned was muscle.

  “Sorry, forgot. The question thing,” he mumbled.

  Fine. Whatever. He was answering my questions—for certain. I wasn’t accepting vague answers, either. I was gonna have a full explanation this time. “Okay, but, seriously, what are you doing in my room?”

  Gris stood and pulled a phone out of his pants pocket. He tapped in a text while searching the corner of my room near the door. I followed his body with my flashlight. He had thin red scratches all over his back. I squinted. It was a good thing I’d already made sure he hadn’t killed my dog—though the scratches looked around a week old.

  “And why aren’t you wearing a shirt? Or shoes?”

  “I’m looking for those sacks I mentioned earlier. They’re causing your, uhh, nightmares.”

  “That’s why you’re not wearing a shirt?” I’d been expecting a rational explanation. I don’t know why. Nothing else in my life made sense these days. I shuddered. Not a good feeling.

  “Shirts are too constricting,” he whispered. “Help me look. Look in the corners of the room.”

  “Fine.” I scrambled out of bed and went to a different corner. I was a sucker for a plan. If somebody had a plan, I was almost always willing to hear them out. “I found one earlier under my bed.”

  “What did you do with it?”

  “Flushed it down the toilet. Do you need a flashlight?”

  “No, I can see in the dark.”

  Of course he could.

  There was no sack in the corner where my backpack and schoolbooks were sitting.

  Gris moved on to a different portion of my room.

  The remaining corner had my closet in it. I’d taken the sliding doors off, as I didn’t like having patches of shadows in my room. My flashlight ran across some pink lace on the floor, and I shoved the bra under some dirty clothes nearby. If I’d known Gris was gonna be around, I might’ve tidied up.

  ‘Course,
this whole thing was weird and awkward especially since I wasn’t wearing much, and I could feel the itch of the latest cut. I yanked a sweatshirt off a hanger and pulled it on to cover my shoulder. If he hadn’t seen it, I wasn’t about to let him.

  My coats and a few dresses hung around my head as I crouched to search in the closet corner. Shoes littered the floor: a pair of well-worn tennis shoes, my boots, some slippers, and a few others.

  I reached out to move them when Gris knelt beside me. His naked shoulder brushed my clothed one. Gris moved like a cat—he was so quiet. His hand stretched into the shadow my beam hadn’t cut through and pulled out a sack.

  “This is what we’re looking for,” he whispered.

  He opened the purple sack and held it so I could shine the flashlight beam in. Strange flat leaves and blades of grass were in there as well as a sprinkling of yellow sulfur powder. He shifted the sack in his hand before lifting it to his nose.

  “That looks different than the one I found earlier,” I whispered. “It was in a different kind of sack.”

  “Canvas, burlap, silk?”

  “Burlap.”

  Gris nodded. “This one’s stronger. Either they’re escalating or there’s two people doing this.”

  “So somebody keeps breaking into my room to plant these bags full of powder and grass to give me nightmares?” My life kept getting weirder. Especially since it seemed to have worked. I’d been having a nasty nightmare when Gris woke me up.

  “There might be another.” He got to his feet and ran a hand through his hair as he scanned my room. “If they went with the most hidden corner and don’t know you well enough to recognize items of personal value, maybe under your dresser?”

  Sure enough, Gris pulled a sack from under my dresser, too. and opened it to peer in. “That’s wormwood.” He lifted up a blade of grass and sniffed it before dropping it back while shaking his head and frowning.

  “Fine.” I sat down on my bed and pointed the flashlight at him. A strange mark on his shoulder caught my eye—a one-inch golden brown mark that looked like a bat wing. “Is that a tattoo?”