Lucy at Peace

by Mary E. Twomey

  He waited for me to nod my compliance, and then kissed my cheek. “Jens, start mashing up the peaches. Jamie, go door to door and find us a virgin whose blood won’t stain your tongue with silver stars. A glow-in-the-dark tongue is only fun at raves, not for the rest of your life.”

  Jens went into the kitchen and Jamie collapsed in the cream-colored leather recliner, exhausted. “I’ll not terrify yet another young girl. Lucy, if you’ll allow me, I’ll take your blood. If you wear the stars, I shall as well. Yet another way we’ll be tied.”

  I shook my head. “No, Jamie. I can wear gloves, but you can’t hide your tongue! No. Absolutely not.”

  “Then we’ll die in our misery together,” Jamie stated simply. “I’ll not bring another person in on the madness. No one else gets sacrificed in the wake of my father.”

  I felt torn in too many directions, angry at everyone for making this the only option they would accept. “Fine. Do what you have to with my blood.” I shook my head. “I’m sorry, Jamie. I’m so, so sorry you’ll be scarred. I don’t want this for you. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.”

  Tucker surprised me by lifting my hands and prying off my gloves. “This,” he said, pointing to the stars that blinked with innocence, “is beautiful. It is no curse. That you’re part siren? I knew many before the purge, and not all were the demons they were made out to be.”

  I shrank away from his touch after allowing it to go on two seconds too long. “Jens. I need his knife.”

  “I can do it,” Jamie volunteered, pulling a blade from his boot.

  I grimaced at the hidden weaponry. “No. If any gets on you, it’ll stain. I’ll do it. Plus, you’ll have the same blood loss as me, so best get comfortable.”

  Jens came in from mashing the peaches in the kitchen with a serious expression on his face. “I’ve got to go meet your friend who’s got the rest of everything we need. He’s porting to a gas station about five minutes away.”

  “Please don’t go,” I begged, hating that I was letting my vulnerability show.

  Jens touched his heart. I didn’t often beg him not to leave me, and I could tell he’d been craving to hear that there were times I actually needed him by my side. “Tucker can’t go get the stuff because he’s dead. Jamie can’t because he’d be too far from you. It’s gotta be me, baby. But I’ll be right back.”

  I walked him to the door, kissing him while standing on my toes. “Please don’t go. I don’t trust Tucker, and Jamie could Hulk out again at any time.”

  Jens held me, planting little kisses on my lips in between every few words. “I’ll be right back. If there was any other way, I’d stay glued to your side with all kinds of superglue. I’ll be fifteen minutes, tops. I love you, Mox. This is all to keep the psycho out of your brain. It’ll be fixed within the hour. Won’t that feel great?”

  I nodded, wishing the one time I admitted I needed him to stay, that it actually made a difference. “Okay. Hurry back.”

  “I promise to break all the traffic laws I possibly can, and not just my favorites.” He pecked my lips once more before turning on his heel and exiting out into the night.

  I turned to Tucker, my expression grim. “Okay, you jag. Let’s do this.”

  “Kitchen table,” Tucker insisted. “It won’t do for siren blood to stain my carpet.”

  Jamie led me to the kitchen table, giving me a calm smile to alleviate the fears he could feel through the bond. “Thank you for this,” he said quietly, handing me his knife. Tucker slid a measuring cup under my elbow to catch the drippings.

  They both ignored Stina’s thrashing and muffled protests as she bled more onto the linoleum. I couldn’t look at her, so deep was my guilt at having watched the whole mess unfold and not being able to save her. Tucker turned my chair to face away from her and stroked his suspender, which quieted Stina’s rage to choked sobbing through the duct tape gag.

  I took a deep breath as I held the knife to my forearm. The stars glinted against the steel, making the knife appear ornamental. But this was no prop or toy. When I finally stopped punking out and sliced an inch-long cut just below my elbow, I hissed at the sting.

  Tucker stood at my side, stroking my hair and holding my hand in place above the cup, so not a drop was wasted as it dribbled down my elbow. Both Jamie and Tucker gave my blood a wide berth, marveling at the bits and whole chunks of stars that trickled out, mingled with the gooey red.

  Tucker squeezed my hand when my eyelids started to droop. “Hang in there, sweetheart. You’re not done yet.” He trilled his fingers up and down my forearm, and I cringed at the contact.

  “Knock it off,” I mumbled, swatting at his advance. “Don’t call me sweetheart.”

  He paid me no mind, but instead squeezed my arm, juicing it as my silver stars fell like glitter and indescribable loss into the cup.

  Thirty.

  Blood in the Baster

  Jens came back not a second too soon. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw his handsome face grinning at his success in bringing home the items needed to save his best friend. “My hero,” I mumbled, my eyes barely open.

  “Got enough yet?” Jens asked, eyeing the cup.

  “Almost there.” Tucker squeezed my arm again. My hand was cold, and I could barely feel my fingers anymore. “She’s fading, but that shouldn’t stop the blood flow. Hang in there, käresta.”

  Jens took out a plastic bag from his coat and began crushing its contents with the mortar and pestle Jamie had gotten down from the cabinet. They wasted no time mixing the herbs and mashing everything together. Tucker wrapped my arm in a dishtowel when they finally had enough blood, taking care not to get a drop on him. They treated my blood like it was dynamite. Were it not for the severity of the situation, it might have been funny to see Jens and Tucker using cheery peach oven mitts to do everything with.

  The black fog started seeping in under the door again. “Hurry,” I slurred.

  Jamie was slumped in his chair. He was unable to do much, thanks to the blood loss, but he was awake enough to drink, which was all he had to do.

  Of course, Jens loved Jamie, so it wasn’t as simple as drinking the potion from a coffee mug. No, Jens sucked it up in a turkey baster while Tucker held his head back with a paper towel and plastic bag covering Jamie’s tongue. Slowly and carefully, Jens poured the liquid down Jamie’s throat, pausing when his friend needed a moment to constrict. It was a slow process, but it worked. The more he swallowed, the more the fog dissipated, until eventually, the darkness left us completely.

  I rested my head on the table, and a few minutes later, Jens was carrying me to the couch. “It worked,” I mumbled.

  “Yes, it did. And I came back, just like I said I would.”

  “I don’t like my stars,” I complained, my eyes only halfway opened as Jens moved a pillow under my knees, propping them up for me.

  Jens met my eyes with so much love in his gaze, I couldn’t close my heavy eyelids for fear of missing such unadulterated sincerity from the man I adored. Slowly, he unwrapped the towel that kept my clotted mess contained. I gasped when he bent his face to the rag and lightly touched one of the stars to his cheekbone. Right above the diamond-shaped tattoo he wore for my family blinked a solitary star only as big as a dot from a Sharpie. It was my mark that he wore just for me. “You shouldn’t have done that,” I breathed, totally floored.

  He shrugged, giving me that lickable grin I loved. He mouthed, I love you, and I did the same. For better or worse, we were in this together.

  Thirty-One.

  Vindication

  Let me tell you a little story about blood loss. It is not cool. If you think you’d be able to tap dance, hold a conversation or at the very least stay awake, you’d be wrong. I passed clean the smack out on the couch, waking almost an hour later after my heart had time to make up for the dwindled supply. While I slept, Jens had bandaged my arm. That’s the thing about a guy who helps you out when you can’t help yourself.

  A knock sounded
at the door, rousing me to sit with several grunts before I fell back down onto the couch, my heartrate too low for such acrobatics as, you know, sitting. The others were busy in the kitchen with Stina, so they didn’t hear the timid rapping. Jamie had recovered faster than I, so he heard me through the bond and barked down the stairs for Jens to get the door while he stayed in his room.

  “I’ve got it,” Jens answered, motioning for Tucker to hide. Jens picked me up and carried me slowly to the windowless bathroom again, depositing me into Tucker’s proffered arms.

  “I thought you said you had security charms set up around this place. How is someone knocking at the door?” Jens grumbled, his voice low.

  Tucker lowered the lid on the toilet seat and sat me down, his hand on my back steadying me so I didn’t tip over. “The charms are to fend off anyone looking specifically for me. It must be someone looking for this one.” He motioned to me. “I can’t exactly have the mailman fended off. It would look suspicious.”

  Jens pulled out his knife and shut us inside.

  “Do you feel as good as you look?” Tucker asked, his smile maudlin. “You’re white as a sheet.”

  “That’s the thing about blood loss. It worked, though, didn’t it?” I hadn’t seen any trace of the blackness that threatened to mutate my favorite prince into The Hulk.

  Tucker nodded, leaning my head to rest on his hip. “It did, indeed. And you can only see the staining of the siren blood if you look deep down Jamie’s throat, which I can’t imagine many would have cause to do.”

  I exhaled my relief. “Well, that’s a good thing. I was worried he’d have to walk around with a sparkling tongue.”

  “I’m sure there are worse things.”

  “How’s Stina?” I asked, afraid of the answer.

  “She’s a fighter. It’s been entertaining. She’s got a few hours left of sport in her before I get tired of the game.”

  I pursed my lips as I thought through what I wanted to say. “There’s a difference between killing someone to contain your secret and torturing them first. You’re being cruel.”

  Tucker moved around to stand before me with a cool calculation on his face. He tapped the underside of my chin so I met his eyes, his other hand stroking his suspender. “You’ve seen what I can do, and yet you have the gall to question me? You see we’re alone. You know I could tear you apart quicker than Jens could rescue you.”

  I stood on wobbly feet, my weakened heart pounding slower than I would’ve liked. “Then do it. Once again, all talk and no action.” I wasn’t exactly sure why I was standing up to the bear, but I was tired of living in fear. If he was going to kill me for my mouth, I’d rather he get on with it. My intimidation factor was compromised by my shorter stature and the fact that I had to grab onto the sink to steady myself. My knees buckled, making gravity my newest nemesis.

  Tucker caught me before I hit the floor, his gentle hands lowering me to the seat again. “There you go, tiger. Take it easy.” His mouth drew to the side as he considered me. “Fine. Once we get out of here, I’ll finish up with Stina. You know, her poison tormented you and Jamie. I thought you’d appreciate a little vindication.”

  “I prefer flowers to vindication, but thanks all the same.”

  “Sensitive to violence, yet you’re with Jens?” He tsked me, moving to my side so I could rest my head on his hip again. He pulled his fingers through my hair, but I was too weak to bat his hand away. “Surely you have to know he can’t stay domestic for long. He’ll always seek out adventure. It’s who he is. Cruel to clip his wings, really.”

  I internalized his words, mulling them over to test their veracity. Did Jens love the fight? Would he be miserable one day when this was all over, and all we had was the white picket fence? Would he resent me for keeping him in one place?

  I heard shouting on the other side of the wall, and a few seconds later the bathroom door burst open, revealing a sight that almost gave me a heart attack.

  “Lucy? Don’t you ever do that to me again!”

  There in the doorway was the best scowl I’d ever seen. All seven feet of Foss filled my vision, making my head swim. My head spun, and I had a hard time focusing. “Foss? Am I dreaming? Are you really here?”

  “Of course I am, no thanks to you!” He gripped the doorframe like he was holding himself back. He tore his crazed eyes from me and glanced to Tucker. “Get out of here.”

  Tucker cocked his head to the side, amused that someone would order him so rudely. “Aren’t you the charmer? Lucy, I can see why you married such a well-bred man.”

  Foss tugged on the door, his threat to splinter and tear it off from its hinges was clear. “Get. Out!”

  Tucker didn’t value much, but he’d done who knows what to secure this house and didn’t relish it being torn apart in a night. “Lucy, darling, let’s go to the living room. You can talk to your lovely husband there.” He looked Foss up and down, sizing up his level of determination. “With witnesses.”

  Foss’s knuckles whitened until he released his grip on the wood, backing up so Tucker could lead me to the couch in the living room.

  I knew Foss wanted to either shake me or hold me, but with Tucker lounging lazily in the recliner, he restrained himself. Foss sat on the couch next to me, his fingers clenching into fists around every fourth word. “You just left. You just… You left and didn’t tell me where you were going. We’ve been searching for you ever since then, driving around at night, following your star all over the map.”

  I groaned. “I told you to stay put for a reason. There’s a hit out on me, so keeping you far away was the best place for you. I told you all of this!”

  “You tell me all sorts of stupid things.” He examined my pale face in the lamplight. “You look awful. Jens hasn’t been watching out for you like he should.”

  “Jens is fine at his job. I’m just a little blah because they needed my blood to cure Jamie. He’s better now. Small price to pay.”

  “Why’d they need your blood? You’re so pale now. How much did they take?”

  “A lot. They needed virgin blood to magic away the curse Stina put in Jamie. It’s what was making him be such a terrible person. He wasn’t doing it purposefully. You were right about the poison being a curse that was rooted deep. So, one point for you.”

  “Virgin blood?” Foss questioned.

  “That’s all you got out of what I just said?”

  “I didn’t know. I would’ve thought for sure you and Jens would’ve…” Foss managed a flicker of a hopeful smile, but then banished it before he could forget he was angry with me.

  I straightened my shirt. “No. Not yet. Not that it’s anyone’s business. Jamie can control his thoughts when he’s, you know, being married to Britta, but I’m not that great at it yet. I tend to get carried away in my mind. I don’t want Jamie to see me like that.”

  “Fair enough.” Foss’s mood lightened visibly. “You ran away.”

  “To keep you safe.”

  Foss’s jaw tightened. “That’s not how this works. Never again.”

  I nodded, unsure how I could promise something so unthinkable. We looked into each other’s eyes, saying all the things we couldn’t speak aloud.

  A flash from Jamie’s mind cut across my brain, knocking the wind out of me at the unexpected horror. “Stop! No!” I cried, standing and stumbling toward the kitchen, steadying myself on Tucker’s arm that shot out to keep me from falling. I barreled in and found exactly what I’d seen in my mind’s eye.

  Stina’s throat had been slit. Blood spurted and poured from her neck down her black mini dress and onto the kitchen floor. She’d been pretty, and even in death, she was decorated in red ribbons that did nothing to mask her beauty.

  Britta was standing next to her chair, holding her knife that was coated in Stina’s blood. “Lucy! Go back out there. You weren’t meant to see this!”

  Jens knew I was too far-gone to listen. He boxed me out with his body so I had to look around him to see the g
ore. I’d seen too much death already – caused a fair amount myself. I’m not sure why this hit a new low for me, but it did. I threw my body into Jens’s, trying to knock him away with my weak assault. “You slept with her! You slept with her, and then you let Tucker torture her and Britta kill her! How could you do something so horrible? She should have meant something to you!”

  Jens was surprised at my reasons for throwing a fit. Each time he shushed me, I wanted to pummel him afresh. “Stina tried to kill Jamie. She tried to kill you! I can’t let her loose to try it again.” He held me as tears dotted my eyes, and my knees gave out. He supported my weight as my heart strived to replenish my strength. “You have to know I didn’t want it to go down like this. But she sealed her fate when she went after you. Anyone who does gets the same treatment, no matter what my past is with them.”

  I buried my nose into his shirt until his words began to make enough sense to stem my burst of emotion. “What if I do something bad enough to piss you off? Do I get tied up and my throat slit?”

  Jens chuckled, but I couldn’t tell you why. I was in a state, and he was finding amusement in my storm of emotions. “We’re always pissed at each other, and we haven’t resorted to that yet.”

  Tucker stood next to us, his shoulders deflated. “Well, that cut down on hours of sport. I thought I called her offing. Who beat me to it?”

  Britta answered without wavering. “I did. She tried to kill my husband. It’s my right.” She wore jeans, beige Chuck Taylors and a mint green long-sleeved T with her two braids. She would’ve looked like a Gap ad, were it not for the bloody knife clutched in her unapologetic hand.

  Tucker harrumphed. “Oh, fine. Could you clean up the mess, then? I prefer my morning scones without blood.”