Body of Ash

by Eli Constant

  “Liam, I need paper and a pencil. I need to draw him before I forget what he looks like.” I make a small movement next to my nose. The hook. The little hump. I can close my eyes and see the lime acid green of his eyes.

  “You almost died, Victoria. It can wait.” He’s frustrated, understandably so. I hadn’t exactly known what I was risking focusing on the arsonist, but I couldn’t lie and say I’d thought it was a completely safe thing to do.

  “I swear to God, get me paper and a pencil or you are never allowed in my house again. I’m not kidding, Liam. This man has killed people, killed children.” I sit up fast, and I surprise him. He doesn’t immediately shove me back down. I pay for it though—my vision darkens like an eclipse is setting across the ceiling lights.

  “Please rest,” Liam says, fussing over me, his hands fluttering uselessly above my body. “I’ll get what you’ve asked for.”

  “Was that so hard,” I sigh out, happily falling back to the softness of the bed. “It’s not like I actually want to trade my life for paper. You make it so hard sometimes though, Liam. Besides,” I close my eyes, my voice fading from exhaustion, “am I your Queen or not?”

  “Yes, you are my Queen. And you mean too much to risk.” He leans forward and kisses me lightly on the forehead, then I hear him move away from me.

  I hate that I pass out then, because I’m fighting like hell not to.

  COMING BACK TO THE world slowly, like someone who nearly lost her life in a spirit realm whilst squaring-off with an arsonist, who... I guess is also a warlock. Is that the term? A male witch? Or is it something different. I remember reading something in Grandmother’s journals. That witch is non-gendered, someone born with powers. And a warlock is someone who’s made a deal for power, or increased power.

  It’s dark in my room, but Liam’s left the bathroom light on and the door cracked. I wonder where he’s gone, surprised that he’s left me. I switch on the light next to me. There’s a sketchbook and roll of drawing pencils on the bed stand next to me. They’re mine, but I can’t even remember where they’d been. Down in storage maybe? It’s been so long since I’d drawn or painted anything.

  I sit up in bed, propping up the pillows so I have something soft against the headboard. Then I cross my legs and open the sketch book. It’s a medium size, like copy paper. Big enough for my purposes. I begin moving the 2B across the paper. The curve of his chin. The soft mouth, a little too full on the bottom. I pay particular attention to the eyes. I wish I had colored pencils or pastels. Not that I need them to remember the green. The passiveness. Usually, you can see evil in the eyes. His had been neutral. Remorseless. Focused on his end game, rather than the tragedies he’s left in his wake.

  That’s absolute evil, in my book.

  The person who can kill without blinking. The person who still sees pretty in the mirror after transgressing.

  I pick up my cell and dial Terrance. We know what the killer looks like. Maybe we can stop him. Maybe we can keep Bonneau Hellmouth-free.

  Chapter Fifteen

  I WATCH THE SUN RISE over the trees. I see how the early rays fall on the blossoming flowers of Spring. And I imagine my little town with a gaping portal to hell slap-dab in the middle of it.

  Terrance is picking me up at ten to go to the neighboring county. It’s only six. I shower and change, putting on funeral day clothing. It’s my most professional-looking attire, and I figure I better look the part if Terrance is vouching for me to his friend Dan.

  I’m on my second cup of coffee when Liam breezes into the kitchen from my bedroom.

  “The window again, really? I’m going to nail them shut.” As soon as I say the words, I cringe. It’s an awful thing to say, an awful thing to think about. It rushes me into Dominique’s memories—trying to save his children but being unable to open the door or windows. I swallow. “I keep them locked now.”

  “I left one unlocked,” he says casually, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world to crawl through a woman’s window rather than walk through her door. I thought we’d broken that habit.

  “Why didn’t you just use the door, Liam? Haven’t we had this talk a million times?”

  “We have,” he says slowly. “But I thought it might be best. In the event your bear made an appearance, it would be easier for me to avoid him.”

  “Oh...” I say, surprised he’s thought through that and that he’d do that out of respect for me and Kyle. Unless, actually, he’d done it to avoid another beast-mode incident.

  “That was thoughtful. Thank you.” I took a sip of coffee, avoiding eye contact. He was rummaging through my cupboards, pulling random things down. Flour. Vanilla. Baking powder. “What are you doing?”

  “Have you eaten?”

  I shake my head, then realize his back is turned to me. “No, I’ve not. I’m not hungry really.”

  “You need to eat, Victoria. You’ve had a very trying ordeal. I still do not understand why you chose to go after the killer. What part of pick someone safe and familiar did you not understand?”

  “And why didn’t you warn me that spirit tracking, locating, whatever, could kill me?” I try to be just as casual as Liam. I’m not very successful.

  “If you had followed direction, you would have been in no danger. You would have soul-met with someone safe. You would have returned. There would have been no harm.” He gets a bowl and whisk and sets about making what I’m fairly sure is pancakes. I want to direct him to the mini chocolate morsels in a drawer, but I don’t.

  “So, because I should have followed directions, you didn’t tell me the danger involved?”

  “Precisely.” He measures vanilla and adds it to the bowl.

  “You know that’s a little screwed up, right?”

  He turns, eyebrow quirked. “Well, you’re alive. And now you know how dangerous spirit location is?”

  I chug the rest of my coffee and stand up. “Surprise, surprise, I have even less appetite than I did before. I’m going to call Kyle.”

  I grab my phone from the kitchen table and walk back to the bedroom, closing the door behind me.

  Kyle doesn’t answer his house line or his cell. So I call the bar. And he does answer, but he waits until the line’s rung five times. Or maybe he didn’t have his phone on him. “Hey, Tori.” He sounds awful. Like halfway in the grave awful.

  “Are you okay?” I tense up. “You sound sick.”

  “I don’t know what’s wrong. Naked in the cold maybe? Beast-mode did a number on me this time. I couldn’t drive home from the bar last night so I camped out. I thought I’d be better this morning, but I’m not.”

  “I’m coming over.”

  “That’s okay, Tori. You don’t need to.”

  “Kyle, shut up. I’m your girlfriend. I love you. You’re sick. I’m coming.”

  He chuckles a little, coughing at the end of it. “Okay, I’m not going anywhere.”

  I check my alarm clock. Eight forty-five. Terrance could pick me up at the bar instead. I text him and he responds with a fast ‘Ok’.

  Grabbing Adam’s jacket, I walk out of my bedroom. “Liam, I need to go to Kyle’s bar and check on him.”

  “I’ll go with you.” Liam turns off the stove and flips a finished pancake onto a plate that’s piled ten high already.

  “That’s not necessary. I’m perfectly happy to be alone. In fact, that’s exactly what I want.”

  “I’ll drive,” Liam folds a napkin over two pancakes and shoves it at me. “Eat. You need your strength.”

  Begrudgingly, I take the offered food. And then, magically, a to-go cup of coffee is in my hands too. He’s thought of everything. Well, I guess it’s not so bad to have a fairy stalker. As long as he gives me coffee and food. Quickest way to a man’s heart. Or... erhm... mine.

  I’ll splurge for filet mignon and chardonnay next time then, Victoria.

  Get out of my head, Liam.

  And now we’re back to bickering. Some things will never change. Some things love
can’t change, because love isn’t some universal healing salve. Even great love has cracks.

  I eat as Liam drives. We don’t talk. The coffee is good, nearly exactly how I like it. When we pull into the bar parking lot I unbuckle before we’re properly parked. “Stay here. He’s sick and he doesn’t need to see we’ve been chummy in his absence.”

  Liam isn’t looking at me though; he’s staring past me at the bar. He pulls into a close space and shifts into park before opening his door and getting out.

  “Hey, didn’t you hear me?” I swing my door open hard, stand up, and slam it back closed. “Seriously. You’re being a jerk yet again.” I march forward to where he’s standing, completely ignoring me. I pause before shoving him, and I stare at what’s got him in a trance. The doors of the bar look like they always do. So, I do shove him. “Liam, what the hell?”

  “Victoria, do shut up for a moment and be patient.” He holds a hand up, one finger in the air. My mouth falls open in surprise. He can’t talk to me like that! Yet, I find myself crossing my arms, shutting up, and being patient. For about two minutes.

  “So what the hell are you looking at?”

  Liam sighs, walks pointedly behind me, grips me gently by the shoulders and says ‘that’.

  “Yeah, The Doors. Awesome. You want to be a little less ‘people are strange’ and just tell me what I’m supposed to see.”

  “You should be able to see it, Victoria. You are connected to the fae.” He moves away from me and waves his hands slowly over the door, whispering a few strange-sounding words. Elvish again, I’m guessing.

  When he’s done, and moves away from the door, I don’t see anything at first. I’m about to snarkily tell him so, but then something pale begins to glitter and glow until it’s like neon embedded in the darkly-painted door. “Holy crap,” I breathe out. “What in the world...”

  “Light Court scouts.” He sounds disturbed. “I’ve done so much to keep them from this place. To keep them from you.”

  “But they haven’t found me. Why here? Why the bar?” A thought springs to mind. “Kyle. Is this why Kyle’s sick?”

  He shakes his head, “I don’t think so, but nonetheless I should look at him.”

  We push through the doors into the bar. Crow, the manager Kyle hired a few weeks ago is behind the counter cleaning glasses. He’s a slight man, with fine line wrinkles and a head of long dark hair. Despite his age, only a hint of silver runs through the pony tail he keeps neatly tied with a leather cord. “Hey, Tori. Kyle said you were coming. Man, he looks like shit.” Crow set down one glass and picked up another. “Who’s that?” He points at Liam.

  “A friend. He’s got some medical background and he’s in town.” I speak hastily, glad my brain is quick on its feet today, when often it’s a snail.

  “Cool, cool. Hope it’s not contagious.” Crow gives a wry smile and starts combining half-empty bottles. He pours a top shelf whisky in with low brow liquor and I wonder if Kyle knows he does that. I want to say something, but I also don’t. Because Crow, despite his smaller build, doesn’t give off the vibes of someone who appreciates being questioned.

  “This way. He’s probably in his office on the couch.” We walk down the hall past the bathrooms and push through the store room towards a nondescript door. The back exit is a few yards to the right. I rap my knuckles quietly on the door before speaking. “Kyle, it’s me... and Liam.”

  “Come in,” his voice croaks out. I’m not sure why, but I steel myself before opening the door. He just sounds so damn sick.

  The room is dim. I flick the second light switch that only turns on the lower overhead lights, not the blinding ones. Kyle is wrapped up in a dark blue blanket on his couch, even his head cradled by cloth so he looks like a giant oversized Yentl.

  Liam is paused in the threshold behind me. “This... isn’t good,” he murmurs.

  “What isn’t good?” I ask, walking towards Kyle and sitting on the rickety milk cartons with the wood on top that Jim had the gall to call a coffee table. I don’t know why Kyle hasn’t changed it yet. I put my hand on Kyle’s forehead. He’s pale, and so hot.

  “This isn’t a bear thing, I’m afraid,” Liam enters the room now, but his movements are stiff and halted, not like his normal fluid movement. “I know why the Light Court is keeping dibs on our beastly friend here. Kyle, are you able to sit up and take off the blanket? Please.” He finishes speaking on a gentle note.

  “Yeah, course I can,” Kyle’s voice is trying to be stubborn and macho, but I see how his face goes from parchment pale to virgin snow pale as he forces himself to sit up. Freeing himself from the blanket’s another chore that leaves him breathing hard by the time he’s sat up with no shirt on. “Sorry.” He tries to cover himself with his hands. “Though I guess you’ve carried my naked ass, so seeing me half-dressed isn’t a big deal anymore.” He gives Liam a small smile, and it surprises me. Who knew that bonding between my beau and my fae would happen over a nude stroll through the woods.

  Liam begins checking Kyle over, examining every inch of him, until his breath hisses out. “It’s what I feared. You’ve been Dark Court touched.”

  “Wait a minute.” I hold up my hands too quickly and the so called ‘table’ beneath me wobbles. I cock my thumb back towards the main bar. “Light Court on the outside, Dark Court on the inside? Is this... something that happens?”

  “Yes, often unfortunately. Dark Court members like to meddle. They like to find unusual supernaturals and toy with them. The Light Court has a small task force of scouts that polices this sort of thing.”

  “So it’s completely coincidental that the courts are waltzing around Bonneau? They’re not here for me?” I should be relieved, but it feels too impossible. I mean, Braeden told the Light Court where I was. No. I didn’t buy that this was just some fluke. Because, it’s freaking not.

  “Here, look.” Liam is pointing to Kyle’s side. He repeats what he did to the door outside, but this time, a hand-shaped spot begins to darken on the skin. Darken until it is black as tar and glowing with a deep-seated light. “Kyle,” Liam joins me on the unsafe makeshift furniture, “has anything strange happened to you lately? Something out of the ordinary?”

  Kyle’s brow furrows for a moment, before he cracks a wide, yet slightly-pitiful, smile. “You mean, other than beasting-out and waking up naked in the woods?”

  “Seriously, Kyle. Anything else?” I lean forward, and take his hands in mine. “Think, babe.”

  He’s thoughtful for a moment, then nods slightly. “A few days ago, I had one of my blackout spells. I haven’t had one of those in a while—not since figuring out what was happening to me and you teaching me how to start taking control of the animal.” Kyle glances at Liam as he says the last.

  “That’s probably when they marked you,” Liam stands up and paces the room. “Berserkers are rare now. Discovering you was an entertainment they couldn’t turn down. They were probably even there, that night, watching you lose control. It explains the Light Court mark on your bar. Scouts from both courts try to keep this behavior controlled. All the fae need is a rogue court member outing our existence.”

  “But how would they have found him, Liam? If Berserkers are so rare?” I still didn’t believe this was some coincidence.

  “I have a few... ideas on the matter. But I do not wish to speculate.” Liam’s eyes are half-closed, his gaze discerning, the mind behind those lovely orbs racing across possibilities. It was one of his looks that I was particularly fond of. Yet, there was also something else playing about his face and hovering around him like a magnetic field. He was keeping something from me.

  “Can you help him?” I also stand, but keep holding Kyle’s large hands in my two smaller ones. “If the Light Court can remove the mark, can’t you?”

  “I can try, but healing is not exactly my gift. If it were, you would not have suffered in the hospital after your fight with the Golem and its master.” He walks over to Kyle and I move automatically. “B
ut I will try. The methods are not completely foreign to me.”

  “Tori!” A voice is shouting from somewhere in the near distance. Terrance.

  “Shit, what time is it?” My eyes rove the room until I find the dull silver clock with the teal splash of paint on it from when Jim decided he needed to cheer up his office. He’d revered back to shades of grey two days later. Ten o’clock. It was already ten, and I had to go. “I’m so sorry, but I have to leave. Kyle, I’m sorry.” I walk forward and kiss him gently on the lips. Liam is at his side, pressing at the obsidian handprint.

  Kyle’s voice tells me it’s okay that I have to go, but his exhausted face and glazed-over eyes are saying something else. “I’m so sorry,” I say again, kissing him once more. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. You’re in good hands.”

  “I will take care of your bear, Victoria. Be safe. Your encounter with the arsonist has planted a fear in me. He is strong. And ruthless, if he’s done what you claimed and slaughtered his coven.”

  “Most of his coven.” I walk towards the door, worry filling my heart and head. “Mordecai warned me there were two leaders. Two people doing this.”

  “Then there is double reason to fear,” Liam’s voice follows me out of the office. I left the door open behind me. Terrance is waiting in the bathroom hallway ahead—I can see him through the small viewing window in the store room door.

  “I’ll be careful. I promise,” I call back to both the men in my life and push through the door into the hallway. “Hey.” Terrance looks curiously at me.

  “So, why am I meeting you here?”

  “It’s... my kind of stuff,” I offer up, hoping he’ll take the hint. He does.

  “Good enough for me. Let’s go. Dan said he’d meet us there around 10:30 and we’re going to be late at this rate.” He strides back through the bar and I follow him outside. I can’t help myself after I push through the front doors. I have to look back at the mark.

  It’s not there though. I wonder if Liam’s spell only revealed it temporarily or if someone... removed it. My eyes dart around the parking lot, but the only cars aside from my own are Terrance’s squad car and Crow’s tiny cooper. Kyle’s likely parked in the back.