The Circle

by Val St. Crowe

  “And we’re friends? Like, really friends? Because, you know, most people at that school don’t like me.”

  “Well, probably because you’re always insulting their clothing,” I said.

  He shrugged. “I guess you do know me.”

  I smiled.

  He gestured. “You should get some food. I can’t say a lot of great stuff about my dad’s house, but the food is usually good.”

  “Yeah, it looks good.” I got up and got a plate and piled it high. Then I came back. “So, you really don’t remember anything.”

  “No,” said Lev. “It’s totally weird. And I feel pretty nasty, too. I think, after I finish this, I’ll take a nap.” He yawned.

  “That’s probably good,” I said. “Keep your strength up.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “You’ll have to fill me in on everything I forgot later.”

  “Definitely,” I said.

  He gave me a smile and then got up and left the room.

  I stayed behind, munching away, feeling bored. I got seconds, feeling like I should overeat to try to have extra energy stores. I also tried to look for something that would be portable, something to take away in case I needed a snack. But the only thing that might work was the crackers, and they’d crumble in my pocket.

  Eventually, I left the dining room and wandered back to my room. But there was nothing to do there, so I decided I would seek out Mr. Belial, find out what he’d accomplished since I’d seen him last. I went looking for him downstairs, but couldn’t find him. One of the maids found me and told me Mr. Belial was in his office on the second floor, but that he didn’t want to be disturbed.

  I decided that didn’t mean I couldn’t sit outside the door and wait for him to come out. It was just as good as sitting in my room, where there was nothing to do, anyway.

  So, that was what I did. There were even a few chairs in the hallway. They weren’t comfortable, but they were close to his office.

  Another maid came by. “What are you doing here?”

  “Sitting and waiting for Mr. Belial.”

  “These chairs aren’t for sitting.”

  “Um, they’re chairs,” I said. “What other purpose could they possibly have?”

  “They are decorative only,” she said. “Go back to the room that has been prepared for you. I will personally come and tell you when Mr. Belial is ready to see you.”

  “But it’s boring in that room.”

  “Watch TV,” she said.

  “There’s no TV in there,” I said. “I looked.”

  “It is inside a cabinet across from the bed,” she said, “Come, I will show you.”

  Sure enough, there was a hidden TV, so well disguised, I would never have found the thing on my own. By this time, I was pretty bored and glad of the entertainment. I settled in on the bed to watch something.

  As I did, I started yawning. I realized I hadn’t actually slept the night before. It hadn’t hit me until now. I must have been running on adrenaline. But now, in this comfortable bed, sleep stole over me and I drifted off right away.

  * * *

  When I woke up, I was not in the comfortable bed where I’d fallen asleep.

  I was in a finished basement somewhere. I could tell it was a basement because the windows were high on the walls and small and square.

  I was lying on a couch. I sat up. There was red shag carpet beneath my toes and a mini-bar with recessed lighting across the room. The place was nice, but it wasn’t anywhere near the elegance of Mr. Belial’s house.

  “Toto, I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore,” I muttered.

  “You’re awake,” came a voice.

  I got up off the couch.

  Abbadon wandered in through the doorway at the far end of the room, right next to the mini-bar.

  “Well,” I said. “Mr. Belial sold me out after all.”

  “He was convinced that was the best course of action, yes,” said Abbadon. “Once he understood the depth and breadth of what you and his son had stumbled upon, he didn’t want anything further to do with it. You were a loose end, and so he surrendered you, and now everything will be quite taken care of.”

  “You’re going to kill me,” I said.

  Abbadon shrugged. “It’s nothing personal, Suther. Honestly, I think it’s a bit of a waste.”

  “That why you haven’t killed me yet?” I said. “Because, you know, I was asleep and helpless, so if you wanted to snuff me out, why not just do it?”

  “My car,” said Abbadon. “You know where it is. I want it back.”

  I laughed. “You’re not serious.”

  “I am very serious,” said Abbadon.

  “Well, if that’s the only thing keeping me alive, you better bet I’m never going to tell you anything about that car.”

  Abbadon sighed. “Oh, really, Suther?”

  “I don’t think you’re very good at interrogation,” I said.

  Abbadon shrugged again. “Maybe not. We never did get Enid to give anything up.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Wait, what?”

  Abbadon smiled. “Tell me where my car is, and I’ll answer all your questions about your sister.”

  “No,” I said. “I don’t believe you. You’ll just kill me.”

  “First, I’ll tell you everything,” he said. “I promise.”

  “Yeah, your promises are not really very reassuring.”

  He chuckled. He crossed the room and sat down on the couch. He patted it.

  I took a step back. I glanced at the doorway that he’d just come from.

  “Thinking about making a break for it?” said Abbadon.

  “No,” I said.

  He raised a fist, sparking in blue magic. “You’ll be dead before you reach the doorway. And that would be a pity, because I’d never find out about my car.”

  I probed my body. I’d been eating well for the past twelve hours, and I’d just gotten in some good sleep. I was feeling pretty charged up, so maybe, if I was strategic about it, I could fight Abbadon. But maybe it would go really wrong.

  “You could try to convince me to keep you alive, you know,” said Abbadon, arching an eyebrow. “Your sister was really a tease, but you have a look about you. I think you’re more adventurous than she was.”

  “Oh, gross,” I said. “I just threw up in my mouth. I would never, ever touch you.”

  “Not even to save your life?” he said.

  “You know, I just defended you to Mr. Belial and said you weren’t a pervert, but I was wrong.”

  He sighed. “Too bad. One thing I will say for Enid, she was more polite, but then I guess she was trying to keep up her cover.”

  “Her cover?”

  “Oh, listen to me.” He spread his hands. “Giving away secrets, and you haven’t told me a thing about my car. Where the hell is it?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I gave it to the women you had imprisoned in your basement and told them to drive far, far away. It could be anywhere. Don’t you have some kind of fancy car with GPS installed in it or something?”

  “What kind of salary do you think a teacher makes at Hellespointe?” he said. “Why do you think I have the side gig with the pregnant ladies? It’s not because I enjoy taking care of them, let me tell you. It pays.”

  “Who pays you?”

  “Where’s my car?”

  “Are you seriously still asking me this?”

  He eyed me. “You don’t know where it is, do you? You just said you didn’t know.”

  Did I say that? Hell, I did say that. Why did I say that? “Oh, I know where your car is. I definitely know, and I’ll tell you—”

  “Just stop,” he said, shaking his head. He leaned back on the couch, draping an arm over the back and looking up at the ceiling. “You don’t know, so I guess it’s time to kill you.”

  Which was when I ran. Darted as fast as I could for the doorway—well, dived, really, like I was sliding into third in a baseball game. I was hoping maybe he’d aim his magi
c high, and I’d slide underneath it and get free.

  And it sort of worked. The power winged me, cutting into my upper thigh like a concentrated fire. I screamed, and I didn’t slide, not on shag carpet. Well, I sort of did. Nice rug burn for my trouble.

  I panted.

  Abbadon was off the couch, heading for me, head down, hands full of magic. His eyes glowed blue.

  Fuck.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  I gasped, writhing in pain and thinking that I shouldn’t have said I didn’t know where the car was. What the fuck was wrong with me? It had been a slip of the tongue, truly, but it had been a pretty damned important one. My life was on the line.

  You are the stupidest girl in the entire universe, I thought angrily at myself.

  Seriously, if I made a list of all the stupid fucking things that I had done in the past two weeks, it be long enough to wallpaper my entire dorm. I didn’t even deserve to have lived as long as I had.

  Guessed this was it.

  Hell, I was going down fighting.

  I summoned my magic, not all of it, but a nice chunk of power, and I threw a shower of pink sparks at Abbadon.

  It caught him under his chin and his head was thrown back. He howled.

  I pressed my advantage, throwing more magic at him.

  This time he stumbled, falling backwards, running into the coffee table in front of the couch.

  I panted, summoning whatever I had left for one last good jolt.

  Boom.

  The coffee table buckled under Abbadon’s weight.

  He landed in a tangle of limbs, feet above his head, groaning.

  I crawled for the doorway.

  “You little bitch,” cried Abbadon.

  I managed to get to my feet, and I staggered through the doorway, emerging in a carpeted hallway. There was a set of steps to my left, leading up to the upper levels of the house, wherever that was, leading to an exit. But I was exhausted and nearly out of magic. I’d never make it.

  “I’m going to have splinters from this coffee table embedded in my damned asshole!” Abbadon bellowed.

  To my right, there was a door to a bathroom. The light wasn’t on inside. I could see tile floor, a shower curtain with pink flamingos around a claw foot tub.

  “Now, I’m going to take my time with you. I’m going to make it hurt.”

  I flung myself into the bathtub, yanking the curtain closed. I held my breath.

  Abbadon’s voice was closer. “I’m going to put my magic into you and twist it around until you scre—What the fuck? Where’d you go?”

  My heart pounded staccato. I shut my eyes and then opened them. It was dark in here, and it smelled vaguely of mold and lemon-scented bathroom cleaner. I wagered that no one had showered in this bathroom in a very long time.

  The light in the bathroom came on. “Listen to me, you little bitch.”

  Shit. This was a terrible hiding spot. He was going to find me in two minutes.

  Abbadon’s phone chimed.

  My eyes widened. He’d gotten a text message? Saved by the text?

  Please, please, let me be saved by the text message. I promise to be good from here on out and never do anything stupid again.

  The light went off.

  “Gotta be kidding me,” mumbled Abbadon.

  In another moment, I heard his feet pounding as he hurried up the steps.

  Then his voice, distant. “Where the hell is Phist? Diablo, did she… up the stairs?” He was too far away. I couldn’t make out what he was saying.

  I needed to get out of here.

  I crawled out of the bathtub and went to the door.

  My stomach growled.

  Shit, I had used way too much magic again. I knew that if I used much more, I’d only pass out. I wished like hell I had cracker crumbs in my pocket. But whatever. Add that to my list of stupid shit that I’d done. I hobbled out of the bathroom. I looked up the steps, and I knew I couldn’t chance going up there.

  Maybe there was a way out deeper into the basement?

  I limped across the room, wishing I could move faster, but I was already exhausted by what magic I’d done.

  There was a door on the other side of the couch.

  I opened it.

  It led to a closet.

  Fuck.

  I turned around.

  Someone was coming down the steps. “Hey, hey, Suther? You down here?”

  It was Grayson Diablo. No, no, no. I lurched forward. I didn’t have time to make it to the bathroom, so I hurled myself behind the wet bar.

  “You hiding?” said Grayson’s voice. “Where could you be hiding?”

  I clutched my knees to my chest, and I did a simple spell, one that didn’t require much magic. It wasn’t invisibility, but it made me blend in with my surroundings, sort of a camouflage spell. It wasn’t foolproof, but I thought if he looked back here, it might work.

  The effort of the spell caused me to lose consciousness.

  Blackness.

  “—be here somewhere.” Grayson was standing directly over me behind the wet bar, but he couldn’t see me.

  The spell was holding!

  Except I could feel that the magic was unraveling.

  No. I reached for one last shred of energy, bolstering the spell.

  And I felt it rip something inside me, something vital. I gasped at the pain of it. I lost consciousness again.

  I swirled into pain and emptiness.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  “Fine, you look upstairs for her, then,” a voice was saying.

  Phist, I thought. I was only half-awake. I had been dreaming of something, a warm place with a white light and Enid’s voice. It was nice. I wanted to go back. This place, this now, it was bad.

  Everything hurt, and I couldn’t move. Whenever I breathed, it sent fresh agony through me.

  “She’s not down here,” said Grayson’s voice. “I looked everywhere for her.”

  “She’s probably hiding herself with magic,” said Phist. “You try a counter spell?”

  Grayson laughed and suddenly, power rippled through the air, shredding my camouflage spell.

  Icy despair flooded me. I couldn’t open my eyes, let alone repair the spell. I was done for. But maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. That warm place, I could go back. I just needed to… let go…

  “She’s not back here.” Phist’s voice was very loud. “Check the closet.”

  I opened my eyes a slit, and the light stabbed into my brain, making my head pound. My body didn’t want to function, it was shutting down. I had pushed too hard with the magic. I was broken.

  Phist was standing over me at the opening of the wet bar, lighting a cigarette.

  “Nothing in the closet,” said Grayson.

  “She probably went upstairs while we were talking down here,” said Phist. “I’ll check the bathroom on my way up, okay?”

  “Sure,” came Grayson’s voice.

  I shut my eyes again. Phist was going to finish me off, and for some screwed up reason, I was glad it was going to be him that killed me. It seemed like an intimate thing, to be killed by another person, and I’d rather it be him than anyone else, especially if we could be alone for the last few minutes. That’s what I wanted. Just to have someone with me.

  But then I felt his fingers on my ankle, and his touch seemed to anchor me to the physical world in a way I didn’t like.

  All the pain I was feeling seemed to swell, like someone had turned up the volume on the radio.

  I cried out, opening my eyes, my back arching up off the ground.

  “What the hell, Suther?” growled Phist. He was kneeling down at my feet.

  I gasped.

  “I told you to leave.”

  “Well,” I somehow managed in a choked voice, “I didn’t come back to campus.”

  “Where do you think you are now?”

  “If I don’t know, that means I didn’t come here on purpose, doesn’t it?” Then I let out a moan. Talking was bad. No more t
alking. But I needed to tell him… “Just… won’t be long now. Stay with me?”

  He furrowed his brow. “What the hell did you do to yourself?”

  “Too much… magic,” I breathed. “Broke something.”

  His fingers hovered over my stomach, and I could feel him probing me. “Shit, Suther.” He shook his head. “What the hell did you do?” He grimaced. “This is… I can’t heal this. You could do it, I think, if you had magic, but you’d need…”

  “No,” I said. “It’s okay. Just… now, will you tell me about Enid?”

  The name made his expression twist painfully. And then, suddenly, he moved, leaning down, his face over mine.

  I moaned again.

  His lips found mine.

  My eyes opened wide.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Phist’s mouth was warm and slick, his tongue insistent against mine, and there was warmth pouring into me, a heat that was flowing into my limbs, awakening me, giving me power.

  Oh, the power. I’d never felt anything like—

  I grabbed the lapels of his jacket and I moved my tongue against his.

  His hand came around to the back of my neck, threading his fingers through my hair.

  Thrills went through me. My body came alive. Things within me tightened, shoring up pleasure for some kind of wild release. I was like a stormy ocean, and my waves wanted to crash on the beach again and again, and if Phist would only—

  He pulled away, stumbling. He landed on his backside, opposite me. There wasn’t really a lot of room behind the bar here.

  I touched my lips, which felt vaguely bruised.

  He drew in a ragged breath. Somehow, he still had his cigarette, and he put it to his lips, looking like he’d just been through a war or something.

  “What did you…?”

  He raked a hand through his hair. “Shit.”

  I’d healed myself, I realized. I’d done magic instinctively, just pulled at some source of power to knit together the broken things within me. I could feel that well of power now, all there for the taking. Where had it…?

  Lev’s voice floated back to me. You can lace to the demonborn by kissing, but that’s got to be given freely.

  “You’re demonborn,” I breathed.

  Phist cringed.