Body of Ash

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Body of Ash Page 20

by Eli Constant


  “Don’t worry about that right now, Tori. We need to get you to the hospital.” Kyle hovers his hands above me, trying to figure out where he can touch that isn’t charred. I don’t bother telling him that he can touch me anywhere, that my body is already magically on the mend. The necromancer slash Blood Queen life has its benefits.

  “We have to worry about it.” I try to sit up, but both Kyle and Terrance push me back down. “We don’t have time to—”

  “Kyle’s right, Tori. You need to rest.” Terrance is waving a hand to summon one of his deputies over. When he arrives, he speaks again. “Follow the ambulance to the hospital. I don’t want you to leave Ms. Cage’s side.” The deputy nods.

  “No,” I say forcefully, then I look at the deputy. “Can you give us a minute...” I know his name, but I can’t bring it to life on my tongue right now. I glance down at his badge. “Radley.” It’s his last name, and it’s obvious I’ve forgotten his first, but I don’t care.

  Radley looks at Terrance for confirmation and walks away once he gets a quick nod of ascent.

  “It’s happening now, Terrance. It’s now or never because a giant fucking portal to hell will be open in the middle of town.” There’s no need for me to force intensity into my words, no need to try and make the scenario anymore grave than it actually is. If we don’t go now, and stop the coven leaders... hello, hellmouth.

  I don’t want to think about what Bonneau will look like tomorrow.

  Stripping the oxygen mask from my face, I sit up. This time, the two men don’t try and stop me—though an EMT catches sight of me and begins walking over to us, looking more than a little unhappy.

  “Where are they, Tori?” Terrance has his cop face on now. He’s weighed the balance of risk, and his desire to not see me harmed, with the fate of everyone under his protection.

  The EMT is closing in, so I speak quickly. “At the core of everything. The middle of the pentagram. The center of all things that is neither good nor bad.”

  “The restaurant,” Terrance breathed out. “No, we checked every inch of that place.”

  “That’s where they are, Terrance. Trust me.” My gaze flashes to where the EMT was advancing. Radley has stopped him for some reason, maybe securing the privacy I’d asked for.

  Terrance’s eyes study mine, his gaze deep and searching. Finally, he says what I already know in my heart. “I do trust you. Let me get my men together. We need to tell them—”

  “You can’t tell them,” I say quickly, grabbing his sleeve again and making him stop. “This is magic, Terrance. It’s not a serial killer on the loose. They can’t fight this. You have to keep them away. I can handle this.”

  “I’m going.” He holds up a hand to stop me talking, because I’ve opened my mouth to protest. He didn’t want to risk me; I don’t want to risk him. “This is my town. Human or not, I’m fighting.”

  “I’m going too,” Kyle speaks, having stood quiet during our exchange.

  This time, I do fight. “Kyle, you almost died once already this week. You’re still healing. No. You’re not coming.”

  “You nearly died this week too,” he looks up at my house, which is still burning despite the firemen’s efforts to extinguish the blaze. “And it’s my genetic job to protect you. Remember?” His smile was slight and a bit sad, but his fingers brushing my chin were gentle and loving.

  Terrance quirked an eyebrow at Kyle’s strange revelation, but didn’t comment.

  “Kyle, ride with her to the hospital. I’ll tell my men that I’m going to follow, stay with you until we’ve seen a doctor and I know you’re safe. They won’t question me.” He turns away, heading towards his group of men watching the arc of water shoot from the giant python hose trailing from the firetruck.

  The ambulance is silent as it drives away from my home and business. Terrance’s squad car is a dark blotch against the evening sky behind us, only announced by a pair of weak headlights.

  I can see the Victorian through the two windows of the vehicle’s double back doors.

  My last family member is dying before my eyes. And there’s nothing I can do to stop what’s happening.

  Revenge though. That might be something I can manage.

  THE EMTS TAKE ME INTO the emergency room and process me into the hospital. Kyle stays by my side each step of the way. Terrance, despite following closely behind the ambulance the entire drive, has not appeared yet.

  I’m put in one of those too-small rooms in which the adjustable bed and basic medical equipment barely fit. It’s a transitional room, where they stick patients who are being assessed for admittance. Apparently, I’m not so bad that anyone feels the need to rush to my side for diagnosis.

  After what feels like an eternity, Terrance appears. “Okay, let’s go.” He hands me a pair of jeans and a set of brown boots. I give him a questioning look. “I know a woman who works in the NIC-U. She always has spare clothes.”

  Grateful to strip out of the giant sweat pants, I soon find the jeans are at least a size too slim. But the woman is tall at least, so the jeans don’t cut off at an awkward length on my legs. The tight pants cause my stomach to pooch out slightly against the tank top. But that’s the least of my worries.

  Fighting is going to be a bitch in tight pants.

  Amazingly, we leave the hospital easily. No one stops us, no one wonders where we’re going. Maybe it helps that my ass isn’t hanging out of a hospital gown. We’re just three visitors, late at night, checking on a relative or whatever. Easy breezy, beautiful undercover girl.

  I’m cold when I get outside, and it’s the first time I realize I don’t have Adam’s jacket. I remember putting it on before fainting in the fire. I stop dead in my tracks, brushing my hands over my bare arms. “Where’s my jacket? Please tell me you have it?”

  “I’ve got it,” Terrance answers my prayer and I start walking again, following behind both him and Kyle. When we reach the squad car, Terrance unlocks it and opens the back passenger door. Adam’s jacket is sitting on the back seat.

  I lean in and get it, a sigh of relief escaping my lips. “Thank you. It... means a lot to me.”

  “I know,” Terrance replies. “You hadn’t worn it for a long time. I’d almost forgotten about it.”

  When we’re all settled in the car, Terrance shifting into gear, Kyle turns his body slightly in the seat next to me. “What’s with the jacket?”

  My gaze flicks to Terrance in the front seat, and I catch his eyes in the rearview. There’s an apology there.

  I don’t know why I’ve never told Kyle about Adam, or Adam’s jacket. I could make excuses—how the subject of exes has never come up, how I was protecting his memory, how I didn’t think about him as much anymore, and it wasn’t important.

  But it was important. Adam held my heart for so long, and he still owns a piece of it. It’s precious real estate inside my body.

  “It belonged to my fiancé, Adam. He died.” I unfold and refold the jacket, then do it again, trying to settle it on my lap. All of the sudden, it is a heavy thing, like it holds every nuance of the past inside its material.

  “You never told me about him,” Kyle doesn’t sound hurt really, but curious.

  “I don’t know why, Kyle. I don’t have an excuse. Just that... Adam’s mine. He lives up here,” I tapped my head, and then my chest. “And here.”

  “Well, it’s not like we’ve had the exes talk.” He smiled, though his gaze was still on my fingers which touched just over my heart. “I suppose that’s something that’s long overdue.” His smile grows boyish and teasing. “I dated a lingerie model for a few months. Ended up with several man thongs out of the deal. They’re actually comfortable.”

  I laughed, and it released a wave of tension from my body.

  “You know, we’re about to go face possible death and demons,” Terrance spoke from the front seat. “Maybe we should be coming up with a game plan, instead of talking about leather jackets and thongs.”

  Now, I nod.
“You’re right. I’m sorry.”

  “What do we do, Tori?” Kyle reaches out and takes my hand. Our fingers rest, entwined, against Adam’s jacket. And that show of acceptance means so much.

  “First, I think we might have to... No, I know we need to destroy the Lazarus Eyes.”

  “And how do we do that?” Kyle squeezes my hand gently.

  “I’ve no freaking idea.” I lean my head back and close my eyes. “Not a single damn clue.”

  “They’re made of jade, right?” Terrance asks from the front seat. “Isn’t that what you said before?”

  “Yes, magic jade. The operative word being magic.”

  “Magic or not, Jade will shatter if you beat the shit out of it.” Terrance remarks. “So let’s stop and get some hammers.”

  “You need some lessons on what magic can and can’t do. For instance, it can definitely protect a stone from breaking.” But I didn’t have a better solution.

  Save the world with a hammer? Sure... why the hell not.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  “WE’RE GOING INTO A magical fight armed with hammers.” I stare at the police tape across the front door of the restaurant.

  “And our keen fashion sense,” Kyle adds, quoting one of our favorite couple movies.

  Terrance is a few steps in front of us. He’s preparing himself, at least he’s trying to. No matter what he does though, he’s still going to be the only human going into a supernatural showdown.

  I push past him, because if I don’t start moving now, I’m going to chicken out. And where would I go? Back to my burning house? To Kyle’s bar where Dark Court and Light Court members alike troll for a good time?

  No, I’m going in here. I’m saving the day. And I’m not freaking dying. Because one brush with freaking death was enough for a day... or a week... or a damn lifetime.

  I rip away the caution tape and push the door open. It’s hanging by one hinge and it groans in protest as it moves. So, that’s lovely. Hello, bad guys! Here we come!

  I haven’t been inside the burned-out restaurant before. Everything is black, and smells like mold—I guess from putting the fire out and then everything being left to dry and corrode without care. There’s nothing suspicious at first. The walls are black, the furniture husks of their former selves—the upholstery burned away, the metal springs yawning outward unable to support anyone anymore.

  This is what my house is going to look like, I think miserably.

  Kyle and Terrance are right behind me. Kyle holds his hammer like a sword, ready to swing. Terrance’s hammer is shoved into his belt, opting to carry his gun instead. I’m surprised that they’re not fighting with me to take the lead, or point, or whatever the police call it.

  I thread my way through the destroyed eating area and push through the swinging doors to the kitchen.

  This is where I feel it, the thrum of unbridled power. It’s palpable and I can feel the beat of it against my feet. I kneel down, placing the hammer on the floor with a clink. The magic is stronger at this level, and I find myself once again crawling across a floor. This time though, I’m not searching for safety, but instead for the exact opposite.

  The danger is calling me, and I’m going to answer.

  Again, Kyle and Terrance follow silently, not questioning my strange behavior.

  “Here,” I finally decide, stopped over the place where the beating heart of power is strongest. I search around the floor, for something... I don’t know what.

  And I find it. A small chip that’s too perfect to be an accident. I stick my finger in it and pull upward. A large piece of floor gives way and I shove my body to the side so I can lift it higher. A gaping hole, about the width of a manhole, stares up at us. Without overthinking it, because if I do I won’t follow through, I stick my legs down the hole and I lower myself down. I can’t feel the floor as I dangle, so I throw caution to the wind and I fall.

  I’m in a store room of some kind. It’s old, completely free of modern aesthetics. Roughhewn shelving that’s seen better days lines one wall. The only light is that which pours in from the hole above...which isn’t much, but my eyes adjust quickly.

  “It’s an old cold storage. Maybe a wine cellar.” Terrance has just dropped down beside me and taken in the room. Kyle comes down after. I can feel him radiating with the beginning thrum of his animal side. It is warm... and distinctly furry. I don’t know how else to describe it. We weren’t just dropping into a magical duel with hammers and wit, we had a Berserker and a Necromancer, and a human with bigger balls than you’d find at a bowling alley. “And... it’s empty, Tori.”

  “I don’t understand; they should be here. I feel it. It’s right here.” I stamp my foot and the movement disturbs the dirt floor, displacing a small pale stone. Seconds later, however, the floor looks exactly as it once did...before I slammed my shoe down. The pale stone is back where it was. “Something’s not right,” I murmur, leaning down and moving the stone with my fingers. I place it several inches away and I watch, mesmerized as the tone seems to blur and then end up back in its original position. “Terrance, watch.” I stamp my foot again—and the same thing happens.

  “What the...” Terrance breathes out. I look at him with a ‘what the hell is happening here?’ expression and then I glance at Kyle, who is calm and quiet—his gaze roving the room, his body vibrating slightly, the bear ready to burst forth.

  I look back down at my foot, and that little pebble. It reminded me of video on a loop. I’d seen it enough times in movies. The bad guys record a hallway, then play the recording so security won’t see what’s actually happening.

  “They are here,” I breathe out. “But they’re shielded.”

  “Are they just invisible?” Terrance is slowly pointing his gun around the room, looking for an unseen threat.

  “I don’t know. This is new to me.” I squat down and being tracing my hands against the floor. “If they’re only invisible, we should be able to feel them, right? Move around, see if you run into anything.”

  I’m crawling again, and the jeans are so tight on my waist that it’s a constant pain. I move my hands across the floor in large arcs as Terrance and Kyle walk around hoping to walk into something. I’m about to give up hope when my fingers brush against something strange. It feels like sackcloth, a bag maybe, and it’s holding something. More than one something. Round, hard shapes.

  Urgently, I grip the invisible bag and drag it to me. I try to figure out how to open an invisible bag, but I can’t find a string or zippers. I can’t see it, but I can smash the hell out of it anyways. I stand and pull the bag with me. I can feel it slapping against my thigh as I walk fast and it swings in my hand. The hammer is on the ground where I left it after first dropping into the room. I pick it up, kneel with the bag in front of me, and I start smashing the hammer downwards.

  “Tori found something,” I hear Kyle breathe out, but I’m too busy beating the hell out of the round objects in the unseen bag. “Shit, never mind.”

  I can hear sharp cracks and odd tinkling as I attack the unseen thing. I keep at it. Slamming and not even caring when I hit my thumb hard whilst trying to hold one of the objects still.

  The space around us begins to blur like the stone had. It’s glitching, almost like lines across a television when the channel won’t come in clearly. I hear an angry yell, but it crackles in and out of focus just like the room.

  So I keep smashing, and when my arms start to tire and I begin to slow, Kyle takes over. And his body is stronger than mine, his muscles powered by the bear within. He works furiously and the room blurs so much that I can’t see anything around us except my two companions.

  Then everything clears, like pushing glasses up your nose when you’re blind as a bat. Candles blare to life and the space is alive with eerie shadows.

  Though I have only known her in spirit form, I know her. The woman, Eve, is stood in the very center of the room—almost where we’d dropped down. Her long black and white hair flow
s around her in a fan of magic-borne strands. She seems to shimmer in and out like that silvery mist that surrounded her form when I was projecting.

  So do I also recognize him—he is not surrounded by sparks, but I know him. The man, Adam, is off to the side drawing symbols on the dank wall of the ancient storage room. He is chanting the same few lines, over and over again. I recognize Latin, but understand very little. Open the gates. Five daughters dead. Hell.

  I catch Terrance and Kyle’s gazes and I point at the woman, mouthing ‘get her’, then I point at the man and mouth ‘mine’. I’ve got a score to settle here, and out of the three of us I’m the only one who might survive his power.

  “Ad mortem patris rectores orbis terrarum. aperire portas inferis. Hostias tibi damus. quinque filiae filii originalia. in utero, et inferni.” He is focused on his task, perhaps unawares that he has been found out.

  I move forward, hoping that Kyle and Terrance are able to handle the woman. As I get closer to the arsonist, it is no longer the pull of revenge and battle odds. I know I must handle the man. Something draws me to him. I couldn’t stop advancing now, even if I wanted to.

  I try to access my power, though I’m also scared too... after what happened in Mordecai’s home. And I heard that voice again in my house... Fear. I am afraid. Yet, I must. I reach down, deep to my soul. I want the magic to explode. It is a rushing river of need inside. But something is strangling it. Because my need to get closer to the male witch is far greater.

  When I am only a few feet away, almost near enough to touch, he turns. His face is not surprised to see me standing there. In fact, he looks resigned. Suddenly, I truly cannot breathe. The power of my body is not repressed by my own design, but by the hard force of the man in front of me. He is the one choking me; he is the one keeping my gifts at bay.

  “Death calls to death, and you are she. Original blood runs through thee.” His hand whips up fast. Something glints in the light of the candles about the room. A blade.

 

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