by Catie Rhodes
Now that I knew Loretta Nell and her book were buried here, these men's aggression made more sense. Another clue I hadn't seen. I wasn't going to survive long if I didn't pay better attention.
Purple half-moons hung under Pig-Face’s eyes, and he had a piece of tape over his broken nose. Chubby held his back where Roderick had whipped him with the crowbar. They carried weapons, Pig-Face a baseball bat and Chubby a hatchet. At least they didn’t have guns.
Tanner shoved the gearshift into park and unbuckled his seatbelt. He leaned forward and pulled on the top of the bench seat. I leaned away so he could get behind it. He pulled out a tire iron and a length of chain. He offered me my pick. I took the chain. He opened his door.
I grabbed his forearm to stop him from climbing out. I needed to say something, to let him know how much he meant to me. Just in case. He turned back to me, face expectant.
My brilliant, romantic words were, "If this is the last five minutes of my life, there’s nobody I’d rather be with."
He winked and nodded. "Same for me."
We climbed out of Tanner’s worn-out truck together. Soon as my feet touched the ground, fury came out of nowhere and worked its way through me, its flames licking at my self-control. The black opal pinged. This savagery was stronger than anything I'd felt so far. Did the book know it was about to come into play?
I glanced at Tanner for reassurance but found his face twisted hatefully. My stomach did a cartwheel. Despite how often Tanner found fistfights, he rarely got angry. He’d told me he couldn't allow himself the luxury of anger. He knew he could really hurt someone.
Tanner smiled then, but it looked more like the way a dog shows its teeth before it bites. His small, intense eyes squinted as he focused on Chubby and Pig-Face.
"Hey, you dickless pieces of shit. Want another beating?" Tanner sing-songed the words, his voice raw with rancor.
Chubby hefted his hatchet. "We gonna do the beating, asshole."
Tanner adjusted his grip on the tire iron. The four of us walked toward each other, arms out from our bodies. My rage reached its boiling point and ran over, its venom flooding through me. My self-control snapped off with a click. I wanted to see these two petty assholes hurt.
I called to the mantle. It moved inside me like a coming storm. The magic pricked through my body. Energy from the earth came up through my legs. Bruise-colored clouds rushed over the burning sun. A streak of red lightning lit the sky.
Pig-Face’s eyes followed it. I had expected fear, but third-degree hate blazed from his eyes. He didn't care.
That was okay. I’d make him care before this was over. I called down another bolt of lightning. It hit the ground between the thugs and us. The mantle swirled in my chest, expanding with each furious breath I took.
"Get in your truck and leave now." My voice boomed off the hills like a clap of thunder.
Pig-Face and Chubby jerked in surprise but didn't back down. Their eyes darkened with anger and pleasure at that anger. Good. I felt the same way.
I channeled the mantle into the chain. The metal grew hot as though I’d laid the thing in fire. The burn didn’t matter right then. My anger was like a tidal wave rushing toward these assholes, and I was riding it like a surfer from hell. I took one step forward and swung the chain at Pig-Face.
He raised one hand and caught it. The heat seeped into his skin. His eyes widened, and he let out a pure, high, satisfying scream and dropped the baseball bat he’d held.
Dark joy pounded along with my anger. I bared my teeth in semblance of a smile. "Damn, that was a good scream. Think you can do it that way again?"
The fire of wrath blazing, I jerked the chain and swung it again. It hit his midsection, which included one bare arm. Smoke rose from his arm. He screamed harder.
I glanced down at my hand. Smoke rose from it. The chain was burning me too. But I wanted to hear Pig-Face scream again, wanted to relish the shine of fear in his eyes until I beat them out of his head. This bloodthirstiness felt good. Too good. No wonder so many people did mean things.
I reared the chain back for another blow. Pig-Face saw it coming and pealed out a scream. It sounded like the best opera I'd ever heard. The chain hit his neck with a dull thwack. I pulled it away and delivered another blow. Pig-Face blocked with his arm. When I pulled the chain away, a stripe of skin came with it. I knew what it meant to feel like a goddess.
Chubby rushed Tanner with a wild scream, raising his hatchet as he came.
Face set in fierce lines, Tanner swung the tire iron fast. It hit Chubby across the lower half of his face. Blood foamed from his mouth. The hatchet thumped on the dirt. Chubby dropped to his knees bawling, hands cupping his jaw, blood hanging in a slobbery line stretching toward the ground.
I stopped beating Pig-Face, who’d quit letting out those high girly screams anyway and watched. Bloodlust stormed inside me.
Tanner approached Chubby, smiling that awful toothy smile, and swung the tire iron in an upward arc right over the guy’s family jewels. The hit made a soft thump. Chubby collapsed howling, face turning the color of beets. He clutched at himself.
My rage spiraled high. I ran at Chubby, dizzying inferno of hate clouding my thoughts, and kicked him in the nuts as hard as I could. The bones of his hands felt like brittle sticks. I kicked again.
"You cheated. You cheated." Chubby broke off his words to let loose a howl that would have been the envy of any self-respecting coyote.
Tanner leaned down, vein thumping in his neck, and growled, "We don’t care."
He swung the tire iron again and hit Chubby in the arm. The bone made the same sound as a wet branch snapping in two. Chubby’s face knotted into a scream, his whole body shaking, tears streaming from his eyes. Tanner smiled at me, and I smiled back, feeling more love for him than I’d ever felt for anybody, even Wade.
Wait a minute. That’s wrong. This isn’t us. The words, barely more than a whisper, came from deep inside, almost too far away for me to hear. The red delirium faded just enough for me to realize that voice knew its stuff.
Something was bad wrong with both Tanner and me. We got into fights with other people. Lots of them. But neither of us was cruel by nature. We didn’t enjoy hurting people.
I spent a lot of time mad at the world, and I had killed people. But never just for pissing me off. They had to really, really do something awful. Hurt someone I loved. Prove themselves a permanent threat.
Kill them, another voice whispered. Kill them both. Eat their hearts.
Saliva shot into my mouth, and my stomach rumbled. Every thought turned red and hot. The desire to spill blood heated me, not unlike sexual desire.
Pig-Face got to his feet again, eyes burning with stupid hate. He picked up the baseball bat off the ground, using one hand to wrap the injured fingers of his other hand around the shaft. Chubby, broken arm hanging, somehow got to his feet. He picked up his hatchet with the arm that wasn’t broken. There wasn't a shred of humanity on either man’s face. They wanted to kill us too.
Tanner walked toward the two men, steps light and graceful, smile splitting his face. "Come on," he rumbled. "Let me kill you."
Before I could stop myself, I called the mantle into the chain again. My hand ached as the metal burned the skin. The pain didn’t matter. I walked toward the fight, hand tight around the too hot chain. The need for violence boiled away all coherent thought.
Sacrifice them to me. I'll let you keep your freedom. The voice came again, sly and prodding. The haze of fury dimmed just a little. That voice belonged to Mohawk.
I snapped back to reality, really saw what I was participating in. Cold revulsion splashed over the hateful fury. My stomach tightened into a cold ball. I let the chain fall to the ground.
Tanner and Pig-Face marched toward each other like soldiers of the scrap yard, their makeshift weapons raised. Chubby stumbled along behind Pig-Face.
No. Tanner had to stop before he killed Chubby and Pig-Face. Killing them was exactly what Mohawk wan
ted. The deaths would bind Tanner and me to Mohawk. We’d become his new killers. I knew this the same way I sometimes knew a magical spell would work.
The realization drove away a little more of the madness. My hand began to throb where I’d burned it with my own magic. I turned my hand over to see the shape of the chain branded onto my palm. My shoulder ached from swinging the chain with all my force.
The horror of what I’d done sank in. Bile stung my throat. Tanner, Pig-Face, Chubby circled each other, taking swings and dodging with inhuman speed. Stop them.
I ran for the truck. My smoke-singed lungs ached within a couple of steps. I hit the truck hard, clambered in, and gave the key a vicious twist. The truck’s old engine blasted to life. I jerked it into gear and jammed my foot down on the accelerator. The truck leapt forward, hitting a pothole and jouncing my hands off the steering wheel. I grabbed it again, fighting for control, and steered toward Tanner, Pig-Face, and Chubby.
Tanner swung the tire iron at Chubby’s one good arm, knocking the hatchet from his hand. My sweet, decent boyfriend smiled, murder in his eyes, and scooped up the hatchet. Pig-Face tried to rush him with the baseball bat. Tanner chopped at the arm holding the baseball bat. The bat fell to the ground with a thump.
The sight tickled at the ball of fury I’d tucked away. That anger wanted to come out for another round. I forced myself to look carefully at Pig-Face and Chubby. These were human beings, not so different from me, give or take a hundred IQ points. The poor men’s sides heaved. They were beat. Tanner was about to kill them just to be doing it. Then he’d belong to Mohawk.
The idea of Mohawk taking away the man I loved, shitting up my life after all, brought the rage roaring back. Only this time it was directed at doing good instead of evil.
I laid on the horn to get Tanner’s attention. His head jerked in my direction, eyes dead with anger. I blasted the horn again and sped toward him. Tanner’s mouth dropped open, and he leapt out of the way. Chubby and Pig-Face finally saw the truck.
They ran from it, but in the wrong direction. I wanted them to go toward the road leading away from the hilltop. If they stayed here, we’d kill them. I had control of the rage but didn’t think I could hold it. I chased Chubby and Pig-Face around the clearing, having to go extra slow not to hit Chubby. He ran with one arm flopping and the other hand holding his ruined nuts.
Finally we made the entire circle of the hilltop clearing. A few more steps, and we’d be back at the road leading down the hill.
Tanner waited at the intersection to the road, holding the tire iron in one hand and the hatchet in the other. As the men ran and limped toward him, he raised both. The men bellowed battle calls and rushed Tanner. He swung the hatchet and chopped Pig-Face in one leg, laying it open. Somehow, Pig-Face kept his feet. It had to be the rage pushing him along. Otherwise both of these losers should be lying in the fetal position while they waited for an ambulance.
I drove the truck closer to Pig-Face and Chubby, blaring the horn to let them know I could run over them. The two men stumbled down the road leading away from the hilltop, barely able to stay on their feet. I used the truck to herd them down the road.
Their truck appeared in my rearview mirror, headlights flashing, horn honking. I saw Tanner at the wheel. My stomach squeezed into a cold, nauseated ball. I didn't want to watch my sweet boyfriend murder these two.
We came to a wide spot, and the truck flew around me. Tanner skidded to a stop next to Pig-Face and Chubby. Tanner bailed out of the truck, holding the hatchet aloft. But Pig-Face and Chubby must have finally come to their senses. They both put their hands up. This seemed to calm Tanner. He motioned at the truck. They climbed in and sped off, tires kicking up a fan of dust.
Before I knew what I was doing, my foot slammed down on Tanner’s truck’s accelerator. It jumped a few feet. What the dunderfuck am I doing? Mohawk’s laughter rang in my head. Using the same focus I used to call my magic, I pinpointed the lunacy and shoved it aside.
I pressed my foot on the brake and watched them go. Tanner turned to face the truck, sides heaving. We stared at each other through the glass. He stomped toward the truck, eyes still slitted like a gunslinger’s.
I tensed. Having just seen what he was capable of, the beast that lurked within, there was no question whether he could kill me. He threw the weapons into the back of the truck. They clanged on the metal, and I jumped.
Tanner stepped away from the truck, some of the tension gone from his shoulders. He mouthed, “You okay?”
He’d seen the beast within me too and had every right to be scared. I rolled down the window, mind flashing with images of him reaching into the truck and putting those strong hands around my neck.
But trust was a two-way street. He was willing to trust me again. If I couldn’t afford him the same respect, I didn’t have any business telling myself I loved him. Calling as much courage as I could, I reached through the open window, extending one hand to Tanner.
“I’m fine. Are you okay?” My voice sounded more normal than I would have imagined.
Tanner took my hand and nodded. He tried to smile. A rush of love, one stronger than the rage, filled me. It chased away the last of the black-tinged red fury. I let it go with relief.
“They might come back any time,” I said. “Let’s dig up Loretta Nell and get the book as fast as we can.”
Tanner hurried around to the other side of the truck and got in. We joined hands, and I backed up the hill, marveling at how my love for Tanner had shifted the tide of emotion.
I backed into the clearing where Freddy Stephens and Loretta Nell Grimes had once taken pictures, the place where Freddy had picnicked with his family.
Had Freddy fed on this place the way those thugs had? Maybe he’d come up here and soaked it in, let it convince him to kill people he arrested and to bring his friends to the ranch to get killed.
I parked the truck in nearly the same spot Tanner had when we’d first arrived and got out. Tanner came around to my side of the truck, head hung.
“I can’t believe I did that. Sometimes I get into fights, sure, but never…" He shook his head.
"I think I’d have killed them had I not heard Mohawk’s voice." My skin tightened at the memory. "He told me to sacrifice them to him. He told me he'd let me keep my freedom."
Tanner nodded. "I heard him too. That’s why, when you were chasing those men with the truck, I waited at the mouth of the road back down the hill. I figured either I’d make those guys leave or kill them. Didn’t matter which."
The feeling of having my strings pulled came back. I thought I finally understood. "The way this hit us when we came up here together was different than what I felt when I came alone. Then I was just scared."
"The two of us together made it stronger." Tanner shoved his knotted fists in the pockets of his jeans, face flaming.
"I think if we had sacrificed those assholes to Mohawk, we’d have become the new owners of the book." A shiver worked its way up my back.
How close had I been? If I was honest with myself, very close. I hung my head and took deep breaths. Even now, I still felt it. Anger nibbling at my brain, irritating, trying to get me to react.
How had I been so stupid? A being like Mohawk had plans within plans, manipulations beyond what I could imagine. The anger got bigger. My skin flushed. If I let myself, it would rage into a tower of hate nothing would douse until I hurt someone. Maybe myself.
Ignore it. Priscilla Herrera’s voice came from inside my head. Let it go. Think of the things you love. Nice things. Think of your young man. Her voice lowered at that last sentence, full of insinuation.
Normally, I’d have bristled at the implication. In order to pass on the family magic, I needed to have a child. Tanner was perfect. Decent, proven fertility, and with his own magical talent. But then we’d be tied together. What if we decided we never wanted to see each other again?
Negative thoughts and fears crowded in. I shut them down and took a deep breath. T
he side trip into the land of failed romance had done its trick. The anger burned low, manageable. I raised my head to find Tanner watching me.
"We’re about to come into direct contact with this book,” he said. “Do you think we can keep it from controlling us?" He turned away to stare at the dimming daylight, showing he didn’t expect an answer. I moved to stand next to him.
The hills stretched into the distance, softly rounded tops blending together. White mist veiled the farthest ones. The darkening sky shone a soft pink over them. Now I understood why Tanner stared out. The beauty of it tamped down the bloodlust we both had brewing inside us. We stood side to side, shoulders brushing.
“What should we do to keep the book from controlling us?” I worked to keep my voice calm, taking deep slow breathes.
"I’ve got something in the truck. Not sure how much it’ll help." He snorted. It was almost a giggle.
I chanced looking at him. A smile stretched across his face.
"Remember when I went with Gus and Cliff to play cards?" He still wouldn’t look at me.
I nodded. Gus and Cliff were the only same-sex couple in Sanctuary. They liked to gamble and occasionally invited Tanner or me to join them at card games. I always refused because I sucked at cards and didn't want to ruin the evening. Tanner sometimes accepted because, as a dealer of arcane items, he might come across something valuable.
"I won a jeweled scarab beetle. Folklore says they protect against evil. It’s not very magical, but we can try it." He started toward the truck.
"While you get it, I’ll start looking for Loretta Nell’s remains." I had to hurry. The sun now hung over the hills, blazing a deep cheese color. I sought the mantle and found it weak and tired.
I called to Orev anyway. He swooped out of one of the squat trees and landed on a boulder, head cocked, black eyes fixed on mine.