Psychic

by Chloe Garner

  “It’s a strange game she plays with the demons, really,” he said.

  “Really?” Jason said. “Looks like every other place we’ve gone to where she dances.”

  Carter shook his head.

  “Only because you can’t read it. That’s Toby, up there on the stage,” he said, motioning to a leonine, shirtless black man deeply reclined in a black chair that was almost impossible to make out in the frantic laser light and strobing that served as the room’s only lighting. Carter scratched his chin. “Toby’s gray. The rules for gray demons say that they can’t have significant interaction with humans who don’t know what they are, so Sam turns up, and she’s this shiny new toy for all of them.” He took a drink and motioned at Samantha again. “They all want her. She shows up, sees him sitting up in his throne on stage, and she instinctively wants to prove she can get him.” He paused. “Happens every time we come. She’s showing off, now.”

  Samantha’s motions were large, strong, and she danced with everyone without letting any of them claim her as theirs. As Sam watched, he noticed the way the room bent toward her in a way that she probably couldn’t see from inside it.

  “So she gets his attention,” Carter said as Toby stood. The crowd parted as he made his way down the steps and into the pit where the dancers were. On his either side, women in tight black outfits stood watching Samantha as well. Carter grinned and took another drink. “He plays the game better than she does. He makes her earn it.”

  Toby stood, the center of a conspicuous empty space, watching as Samantha danced. For her part, she was clearly and conspicuously unaware of him.

  “Why does she do it?” Jason asked. Sam wasn’t sure, either. She was in the space in her head where she thought very little and felt everything, especially the music, but it was work. She was working so hard, rather than just flying, like she usually did.

  “Just wait,” Carter said.

  It was several minutes later, but finally Toby moved again, walking to Samantha and sliding his hand around her waist. She slowed to a still pause, looking up at him, then rolled again with the music, but now he moved with her.

  Sam stared. Samantha hadn’t slowed down or simplified any of her motion, Toby just matched all of it, some of it identically, some of it in complement, but all of it at the same rate that she moved. She didn’t buzz like she did when she was dancing with Alexander. She wasn’t even particularly happy. This was a simple state of identity for her. Perfection.

  “Let me guess. They’re best friends, too,” Jason said.

  “She hates him,” Sam said.

  “Bingo,” Carter said. “It’s the best part. They can’t leave each other alone, but when she wouldn’t screw him, they never stopped hating each other.”

  “Why wouldn’t she?” Jason asked. “It doesn’t count, right?”

  “He’s a sadistic creep,” Carter said. “She’d ash him if he ever asked again.”

  “Has she?” Jason asked.

  “Has she what?” Carter asked. Sam pulled his attention from Samantha.

  “Has she been with one of them?”

  Carter sat back in his chair and tipped his beer back.

  “That’s the best card she’s got in her hand,” he said. “I’m certainly not going to show it to you.”

  “But you know?” Jason asked.

  “Of course.”

  “I bet she hasn’t,” Jason said.

  “I don’t know,” Sam said. “She’s different with demons.”

  “She has?” Jason asked, leaning forward over the table.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Yes you do. She told Carly she had, and you always know if she’s lying or not.”

  “She never actually said she had,” Sam said, not admitting how closely he had paid attention.

  “I taught her that,” Carter said.

  “Taught her what?”

  “There’s a spell you can put on a certain alloy of metals that paralyzes the larynx when you are trying to say something that isn’t true,” Carter said. “I made her wear a collar of it for a week, once. Made sure everyone knew what it was. Lots of uncomfortable questions, that week.”

  “You’re a jerk,” Jason said. Carter shrugged.

  “She knew where the door was.”

  Samantha spun out of the crowd and returned to the table, tipping back her entire beer at once and motioning to a waitress for another. She opened it and drank half of it, putting it down in front of Sam.

  “Watch that for me, will you? I’ve been drugged her most of a dozen times.”

  “Why do you come back?” Jason asked.

  “Half the time it’s him,” Samantha said.

  “It’s always for your own good,” Carter said.

  “I would not wish those three days on anyone,” she said. “I can’t get drunk any more, even when I try.”

  She left again and Jason put his elbows on the table, looking at Sam.

  “That explains so much.”

  Sam had noticed, himself, how much she seemed to be able to drink, even compared to Jason and himself, without ever feeling it.

  “All of the hangovers you could have possibly had in your life, all at once,” Carter said. “That may have been the worst thing I ever did to her.” He paused. “Probably not.”

  “I don’t like it here,” Sam said.

  “I think I’m with you,” Jason said. He looked back out at the dance floor, where Samantha was dancing with Toby again and Sam watched as Jason narrowed his eyes.

  “Sam,” Jason said.

  “What?”

  “Sam.”

  “What?”

  “I think I know how he does it,” he said.

  “Does what?”

  “Do you mind?”

  “Do I mind what?”

  “Can I go dance with her? Like that?”

  Sam looked and twisted his mouth to one side.

  “Better you than him.”

  Jason looked at him for a second, then bolted from the table.

  “And a new piece appears on the board,” Carter said, curling his hands under his chin. “This should be interesting.”

  Sam considered rising to the bait, but was quickly distracted. Samantha was surprised to find Jason next to her, but she slid an arm in between herself and Toby to edge him away, sliding across to Jason with a slick motion that gave Toby no opportunity for argument. Toby turned to dance with one of the women that had accompanied him, but even Sam could tell he was angry.

  Samantha started out slow, more like what Sam was used to seeing her do when she danced with someone, but soon Jason started keeping up with her. She accelerated, and he managed, then he matched her again. Jason didn’t dance like Toby did, but he did dance with Samantha, skin to skin, motion for motion. Moreover, unlike with Toby, Samantha was actively enjoying herself. A lot.

  “Quick study, isn’t he?” Carter asked. “When there’s a girl involved?”

  <><><>

  Heat.

  Light.

  Sound.

  Jason’s body.

  Her own.

  Her heartbeat.

  Her breath.

  Nothing else.

  <><><>

  It was like floating.

  That was the trick to it. He didn’t have to push harder to be faster, he just had to make the decision earlier, then watch it happen. Samantha moved, and he simply moved with her. Simple. Nearly effortless. He played his fingers over her wrist and the back of her hand, then flipped her hair off her neck, lifting his arm over her head to wrap it around her chest as she rolled back against him. He bent time harder, watching the way her hair moved through the air, then dropped it back to its previous speed, dropping his weight left as she darted right and spun, unwinding his arm. He had no concept of how long they had been dancing, but he found his hands were slick; he blinked when sweat hit his eye. She grinned. Said something. He felt the muscles in his face slowly contract into a frown, even as the sound was only half-formed.
She laughed and reached for his face. He slid away, simply because he could, and she stopped, standing still.

  The sound of the music went back to normal; the motion around her changed from that of drifty seaweed to sharp, precise dance.

  “Drop it,” she said. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. Which didn’t help. He realized his heart was racing, and his legs only just held him up. She tilted her head to the side, swaying away as someone’s hand came snaking around her waist. The hand slid away, and Samantha put a hand out to Jason.

  “Sneaks up on you, doesn’t it?”

  He tried to take a step and nearly fell. Her hair was wet. He couldn’t imagine why she was still wearing the jacket. She leaned against him, laughing, and they helped each other back to the table. Jason collapsed.

  “Not bad,” Carter said. “Toby actually gave up.”

  “That was interesting,” Sam said.

  “That was fun,” Samantha said. He looked at her.

  “Yeah, I know what you thought about it.”

  “How do you feel?” Carter asked.

  “Like she’s never going to land a punch against me again,” Jason said.

  “Oh, really?” Samantha asked. Carter leaned in conspiratorially.

  “Pro tip,” he said. “It works for sex, too.”

  Jason sat back in his seat.

  “Dude.”

  Carter nodded.

  “You have no idea.”

  “Huh,” Jason said.

  “Did she warn you?” Carter asked.

  “Warn me what?”

  “You can bend time too hard. It breaks, and you live your life in the wrong order until you get it straightened out again.”

  “How do you know where the breaking point is?” Jason asked.

  “Current time differential,” Carter said. “Variable. If you’re careful, they say you can feel it stress before it breaks.”

  “Have you done it?” Jason asked.

  “Many times,” Carter said.

  “And Sam?”

  “She’s careful.”

  Jason nodded, then noticed.

  “Where did Sam and Sam go?”

  “Where do you think?” Carter asked. Jason laughed.

  “Well, hell. How do we find them?”

  Carter stood.

  “I know this place nearly as well as Samantha thinks she does. Grab her jacket.”

  Jason tipped back the last of his beer then stood and folded Samantha’s jacket over his arm.

  “Question,” Jason said as he followed Carter out of the main room and into a hallway. “Why can you call her Samantha, when every time I do it, I get a blade to my throat?”

  Carter glanced at him, opening a door then closing it.

  “Her mother called her Samantha.”

  “So?”

  “No one else ever did.”

  Jason waited for that to explain something important, but nothing jumped out at him. Carter looked at him and sighed.

  “Her mother, who died tragically and violently, who she was very close to, called her Samantha when she was upset. You really want to carry that burden?”

  Jason considered.

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah. Oh. And if you tell her I told you that, I will remove your small intestines, jerk them, and use them as Halloween decorations.”

  Jason snorted.

  “You’re just a big softie, aren’t you?” Jason asked. Carter tried another door, finding it locked.

  “That could be it.”

  “You want it open?”

  “Please,” Carter sneered.

  Carter closed his fist and pounded the door with a very short overhand strike, then turned the knob and opened the door. The room was empty. Carter closed the door and went on.

  “She’s going to teach me how to do that, right?” Jason asked.

  “It’s dark magic,” Carter said. “Unlocking a door you didn’t lock. She won’t.”

  “She lets me pick locks,” Jason said.

  “I expect she lets you do lots of things she won’t, doesn’t she?”

  Jason thought of Annie.

  “Yeah.”

  “Sin-eater, aren’t you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “She needs one.”

  Jason followed Carter down a set of stairs to the guts of the old stage. Dressing rooms, prop rooms, rooms with machinery for props and stage work.

  “You saw them leave, didn’t you?” Jason asked.

  “Of course.”

  “Why didn’t you say something?”

  “Either it’s because I get to rain on her parade tonight, and I’m in a good mood, or it’s because I’m going to rain on her parade tonight, and I knew she needed a good night. Believe what you want.”

  “What are you going to do?” Jason asked.

  “Tell you? And spoil my fun?” Carter asked.

  They found Sam and Samantha in what looked like a coat room. Jason might have missed them, if Sam hadn’t been missing his shirt. Mesh sleeves were wrapped around his neck, but otherwise, Samantha wasn’t visible. Carter folded his arms and leaned on the counter, watching. Jason grimaced.

  “Geez, guys, get a room.”

  <><><>

  Sam jerked. Samantha pulled him harder against her. All of the endorphins and the rush of dancing surged against the broken rules and the night terrors of finding herself completely alone, and she didn’t want to let him go. He curled his back and lifted her as both of them disappeared into the void again.

  “Am I going to have to spray you with water?” Jason asked. Sam jerked again. His skin snagged on her shirt as his hands slid over her sides, her arms. They stood, breathing, a fraction of an inch apart. She couldn’t see his face in the dark. She didn’t need to. She ran her fingers through his hair again and smiled, the motion bringing her lips back into light contact with his again. She kissed him gently.

  “I wish you danced.”

  “That makes two of us,” he said.

  “Hey. Break it up, already,” Jason called. Samantha dodged around Sam, drawing Lahn as she made a quick line across the small room and hopped out the clerk’s window. Jason staggered into the far wall of the hallway as she pressed Lahn’s sharp leading blade against his throat and her elbow to his collar bone. He chewed his cheek and looked at her chest. She watched him levelly until he finally pulled his eyes up to hers.

  “What?” he asked.

  “You need better instincts,” she said, swishing Lahn back into her sheath. Sam walked through the empty doorway, pulling his shirt back over his head.

  “What does that mean?” Jason asked.

  “You just let her put a knife to your throat, and it never even occurred to you to bend time,” Carter said. Most flat-footed warrior I’ve ever met.”

  “Oh.”

  “Does this place have a back door or something?” Sam asked. “I don’t really want to go through the main room again.”

  “That way,” Carter said, pointing on down the hallway. Sam nodded and set off.

  “You have lipstick on your face,” Jason said.

  “So?”

  “Just saying.”

  “You danced with Sam.”

  “You said it was okay.”

  “I said it was better than him.”

  “Huh. Yeah. It was awesome, though.”

  “You looked like you were enjoying yourself.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Just saying.”

  “Sam,” Carter said, slowing a bit to let Sam and Jason get ahead of them. Samantha paused, then matched his step.

  “Yeah.”

  “I take it the rules have changed,” he said as Sam and Jason bickered.

  “Yeah.”

  “You given any thought as to why?”

  “Six feet of dirt,” she said. “He died.”

  “Not the only thing that happened, right around then, was it?” Carter asked. “I assume Sam has an admirer?”

  “Demon
named Brandt,” Samantha said.

  “Never heard of him.”

  “Nothing to write home about. Smug. Oily. English accent.”

  “One of thousands,” Carter said.

  “Yup.”

  “Know his stuff?”

  “Yes.”

  “Uh huh. You think about what that means?”

  Samantha had been avoiding it.

  “Jason,” she called. “Jacket.”

  He threw it back to her, seeing something in her face or Carter’s that made him grab Sam’s elbow when Sam stopped to wait for them. What did he know?

  She pulled on her jacket and flipped her hair out from under the collar.

  “I know what it means,” she said.

  “What’s your exposure?”

  “I had a clean win. No stalemates anywhere, no losses. Could be any of a dozen backdoors and I locked thirty-odd trapdoors mid-spell. He wasn’t going for a win.”

  “He wanted a way in later,” Carter said.

  “Yeah.”

  “You want me to dust him?” Carter asked.

  “Sam isn’t ready for that level of attention,” Samantha said.

  “He’s not ready for the level of attention he’s getting now,” Carter said. “Nor are you.”

  “I don’t want to have this fight. You know neither of us is going to back down.”

  “I saw the pendant. It’s good work. I even tested it a few times yesterday while you were busy with Lange, and it’s sound. But you’re coddling him. Worse, you’re in love with him.”

  Sam was itching to get close enough to eavesdrop, but the thumping music from upstairs made the effective range for eavesdropping very short, and Jason was keeping him well ahead.

  “That’s a new rule. I am in love with him. Why is that a problem? And what have you done to Jason?”

  “Made him swear an oath of loyalty,” Carter said.

  “You did not. Did you?”

  She looked at Carter, who smiled benignly.

  “Did you?”

  “He’s stubborn, but when you find the levers, the machine does exactly what it’s been built to do.”

  “I’m working on that.”

  “You’re wasting your time. If you won’t train him, turn him over to Lindsey and let her do it.”