by E. A. Copen
The white wolf dodged to one side, only barely missing the snap of the beast’s jaws. Chanter was not so lucky. The beast swung his neck wide and crashed his head into Chanter’s side like a battering ram. Chanter’s wolf skidded away and lay still next to the doors. Emiko darted above, ready to slam down into the beast should my methods fail. They wouldn’t. Now that I had a clear shot, I was golden.
I released the shadow. It flew forward almost unbidden, all the energy of its need to consume and destroy propelling it hard into the beast’s body. When it struck, the shadow broke like water over the beast, flowing up and over, enveloping it in utter darkness. I could feel the beast struggling, but it might as well have been a cat in a burlap sack. The darkness was impenetrable.
“Hunger,” I scoffed, closing my fingers around the tail of the darkness. “Let’s see how much you can eat.”
The darkness retracted, and the poor beast thought I’d let it go free. It staggered back, eye scanning wildly. I sent a pulse of power down through the darkness, an order. The darkness hesitantly obeyed. It reared back like a snake and then streamed forward into the beast, this time ramming its way down the beast’s throat. The beast’s bloated belly swelled even further. It’s tiny arms and broken tentacles waved wildly, fighting against the darkness as it filled the beast, but it was all pointless. Its belly swelled to twice its original size. Then three times.
I grunted and poured more magick down into the darkness. Even though I was exhausted, there seemed no end to the shadow I could call to fill the beast, and so I poured even more into it. The white string around my middle snapped. I ignored it and gave even more.
When the beast had quintupled in size, its belly so large that it’s head and limbs disappeared inside it, I lit the shadow with an effort of my will. Fire raced down the darkness, licking at it, feeding on it, one with the darkness, with me. The beast screamed as it burned inside, but it didn’t die. Not fast enough. With a flick of my wrist, I sent a snap of energy down the shadow that vibrated into the beast. It shook uncontrollably.
Then it exploded into a million flaming pieces.
Burning flesh rained down from the sky. The shadow snapped back against me when I called it, unhappy to do so. It wanted to be free. The darkness wanted more. I put every bit of effort into keeping it contained.
The last golden string tied around my middle snapped and fluttered away.
Chapter Thirty-Six
I reached out to grab the string, but it slipped through my fingers, trailing off in the night breeze. After using up so much energy to kill the beast, all I could do was fall over and watch it go.
A white blur flew past me. With a running leap, the white wolf caught the string in his jaws, somehow managing not to bite through it. He wagged his tail and backed toward me, lowering his head so that I could take the string. I couldn’t lift my hand.
Emiko knelt beside me and tied the string to my finger. She smiled warmly at me and touched my cheek, her form growing dimmer. “Our time together grows to a close. I must follow my darker half into the beyond. You must go home.”
I groaned. “I don’t think I can stand.”
Emiko looked up at the gathering storm clouds just as the first raindrops fell. “You should go soon.”
Chanter shifted back into his human form almost instantly. He knelt next to me. “And that, girl, is why you have friends.” He picked me up as if we were both completely solid. The white wolf laid down in front of Chanter who placed me on the wolf’s back. “Hunter will take you home.”
I blinked. “Hunter?”
The big, white wolf rose to his feet, barely bothered by my weight. He shook his head and sneezed.
“Who else did you think would come to your rescue?” Chanter smiled knowingly at me. “There were only the three of you in that spell: you, Emiko, and Hunter. Well, and a little bit of me, of course.”
“What will happen to you, Chanter?” I asked.
He frowned at me. “What do you know about ghosts, girl?”
I thought a minute. It took a lot of effort the way my head was pounding. “Unfinished business,” I said at length.
“And this foray was mine. Now that you are safe, at least for the time being, I’ve done my part. I suppose I could have left after I was sure Saloso adjusted the spell ingredients accordingly, but an old man can indulge.”
“But,” I stammered, “what about Sal? He still needs you. What about Cynthia? The minute I come back, she’ll attack everyone in the room. The Vanguard are still out there, and I don’t know anything about these new powers. And... and...”
The list of reasons why Chanter couldn’t go seemed endless. I needed him. Sal needed him. Chanter was the rock that we stood on, the person who made everything in Paint Rock work. Without him, what would we do? Even his ghost was better than nothing.
Chanter sighed and knelt, pressing his forehead against mine. “Oh, Judah, you stupid, stupid, white woman.” It was a gentle chastisement, almost endearing. “If I stay, I won’t be the Chanter you knew. I will fracture, as Emiko did, as you will if you stay. These things that worry you, I worry about them, too. I worry after Hunter, Nina, and everyone I must leave behind. But I do not have any answers that you cannot find yourself. Search your heart, your mind, your memories. Listen to the wind when it whispers in the sand and the night birds when they cry out. Hold onto yourself and the core of who you are. As for Saloso...” He chuckled. “The boy has a good woman behind him now and two young ones to look after. He will find his way.”
I used the last of my effort to throw an arm around Chanter. “It won’t be easy,” I said, squeezing.
He tipped his head into my arm. “No, girl, it will not.”
Emiko, now almost completely faded, floated down into my view. “You must take a message to Marcus for me. Tell him...” She hesitated.
I nodded. “I’ll tell him.”
Emiko smiled at me. Thunder rumbled above us and the rain picked up. It washed her form away.
“You must go now,” Chanter said nodding. “Hunter, move swiftly and take your mother home.”
Hunter took off at full speed down the side of the mountain, following the buzzing length of golden string tied to my finger. The string never tightened or gave slack, and I never had to wind it, no matter how far we went. It was always there in front of us, trailing off into the far distance.
We wound down the mountain and onto an empty road. Hunter ran tirelessly down it and followed the string into a barren field. His paws splashed hard against the puddles and I had to hold on tight to his fur to keep from being thrown off. He scaled another hill, traversed another valley, the rain growing harder and faster with each passing moment. He ran for hours, and then for days, never seeming any closer to our destination. Forests, cities, and lakes passed by and still he ran.
Slowly, my strength returned. On the third day, I was finally able to lift my head. I had accepted long ago that my eight minutes were up. Even though we were still following the golden string, we must have long ago surpassed the eight-minute deadline. I wondered if Cynthia had succeeded in her quest. Was Marcus dead? I imagined so. Dead and buried, probably.
On the fourth day, we came to a sandy beach at dawn and Hunter slowed for the first time. The string went down into the water and vanished.
“Give up, Hunter,” I said into his shoulder. “This is a waste of your time and talent.”
Hunter shook his head, panted, and then trotted into the ocean. I reached down and ran my fingers through the foaming surf. When was the last time I had seen the ocean? Had it been this beautiful? This sparkling and clean? This cold?
Hunter took us out beyond where either of us could stand and paddled there. I was too weak still to swim. He whined.
“I’m sorry.” I closed my eyes. “I tried.”
Hunter took in a deep breath, clamped his teeth down hard on my arm and dove into the icy blue.
~
My eyes snapped open, vision distorted by shallow
water. I tried to draw breath but all I got was water, water that I coughed out. Someone held me under water.
In a panic, I spread out my fingers, summoned my will and sent a focused blast of magick out. Whoever held onto my legs got a direct hit. So did the end of the tub and anyone else that was behind him. The back half of the cast iron tub cracked and broke, sending water spilling onto the floor.
I bolted upright and gasped, drawing in the most desperate, most painful breath of my life.
The tub lay in ruins, the bottom quarter of it shattered into deadly missiles that wedged themselves into the wall. One had gone in not two inches from Marcus’ face. Luckily, he’d hit the deck in time. Sal had gone through the wall and now lay in an inch of ice water, blinking up at the ceiling. I owed them an explanation but there wasn’t time. Cynthia was still somewhere in the room, and I had to stop her before—
Metal slammed into metal behind my head and Reed grunted. I scrambled out of the broken tub awkwardly, fueling the movement with magick. My limbs were still floppy and barely responsive without the effort of will. Hunter’s fingers closed around my arm and he hauled me back, falling on his rear after a few feet. I used him as leverage to turn myself over onto my back so I could see what was going on.
The silver cylinder I’d seen Cynthia charging with magick was no more. Instead, she’d extended it into a freaking scythe, a scythe she was swinging wildly at Reed. He barely managed to dodge her next strike. He lost his footing on the icy floor and fell. Cynthia raised the blade of her weapon over Reed.
Then Marcus appeared in front of her. I hadn’t seen or heard him move. Judging by how surprised Cynthia was, she hadn’t either. Suddenly nose to nose with him, she doubled back a step and readied her weapon to take his head. Marcus snarled, bared his teeth, formed his fingers into a claw-like pose, and then reached out, wrapping his fingers tightly around her trachea. Cynthia’s eyes went wide and she forgot all about her charge to assassinate Marcus, breathing being her new priority. She dropped the scythe. It clattered to the floor, once again a harmless block of silver.
“You, my dear, are fired,” Marcus said and tore her throat out with his bare hands, dropping the wad of muscle, tendon, and flesh on the floor as if it were trash. Cynthia didn’t make a sound. She couldn’t. There was absolute horror on her face for a moment before her eyes grew glassy and she went limp.
Marcus dropped her, spat on her, and turned back around to a room full of stunned bystanders to adjust his cufflinks. His entire suit was ruined, covered in a line of blood that stretched from his collar down to his waist. His eyes...They were completely black, though his voice didn’t betray the lack of self-control that normally went along with black eyes in vampires. “Good help is so hard to find in this economy,” he muttered and used his monogramed handkerchief to start cleaning the blood off his fingers.
Hunter tightened his hand on my shoulder and then searched for my hand. “Mom?”
I squeezed his fingers when I found them. “I’m here.” I closed my eyes. “How long was I gone?”
“Less than five minutes,” Han’s voice droned. “I expected more. Though you seem to be free of any ill effects. I can’t judge without a full examination.”
“Over my dead body,” Sal growled. He’d climbed out of the broken wall and stood beside Han, dusting his arms off.
Han regarded him coolly and then shrugged. “As you wish. I have other patients.”
As if in response, there was a whimper in the crib in front of me, a whimper that turned into a toddler’s cry. In the bed across the room, Zoe stirred. Her eyelids fluttered open but her eyes remained unfocused. Sal walked over to the crib and looked down at the crying child, his expression unsure. “Don’t just stand there,” Zoe said in a groggy tone. “Pick up your daughter.”
Sal’s chest heaved with a deep breath and he rolled his shoulders. Then, he reached down into the crib to pick Mia up. It was awkward for him at first as he tried to figure out what to do with the squirming twenty-five-pound bundle of toddler. He got Mia to his shoulder where she could look over and see her mother and the distressed, desperate crying settled a little as she found her fingers to chew on.
Han came over with his stethoscope and pressed it to Mia’s back and chest. Sal growled at him. The doctor rolled his eyes and backed away.
Sal looked at me, smiled, gave me a thumbs-up, and then took Mia to see her mom.
Over the course of the next few minutes, Marcus made a lot of phone calls. A nurse came down with a wheelchair, and between Hunter and the nurse, they lifted me into it, strapping me upright. A quick once over from the nurse gave me a clear bill of health, though she said I should stay overnight to be sure.
Han made the same call for Mia. They needed to make sure she wasn’t going to have any more seizures or show more symptoms. Sal wouldn’t have it. Han started to argue that he was not the custodial parent and, therefore, could not make medical decisions on Mia’s behalf, but Zoe cut him off. “He is her father,” she snapped. “And he knows what’s best for her.”
“Your position on the issue is much changed,” Han sneered. It was the first time I’d ever heard him be openly nasty with anyone. “As of yesterday, you were ready to fight to keep him away from her. I wonder if your condition isn’t affecting your judgement.”
“Doctor Han,” Marcus called from the doorway and Han’s eyes rolled to him. “Perhaps we should deal with the body in the room before there is more explaining to be done.”
Han frowned at Sal and Zoe, sighed, and walked over to join Marcus. “Put her on the gurney. I’ll notify maintenance to turn up the incinerator.” He turned back to Zoe. “Unless, of course, the resident wendigo prefers a diet of fae?”
Zoe closed her eyes. “Don’t you think my diet has caused enough problems for you and your staff, Doctor Han?”
“True enough. Incinerator it is.”
Han and Marcus left, hauling what was left of Cynthia out with them.
Reed glanced at me, raised his eyebrows, and gestured to Zoe. When I nodded, he came and turned my chair so that I was facing Zoe, pushing me closer. Then he bowed his head and stepped out of the room.
“Zoe, you and I have unfinished business,” I said.
That made her chuckle. “You’ve been watching too many Tarantino movies with my ex-husband.”
“I’m not the one who named my kid after a Pulp Fiction character.”
Her eyes were closed but the corners of her mouth turned up into a genuine smile.
“So,” I continued, “how do you want to settle this?”
“Neither of us is in any shape for a fight, are we?”
“Neither of you needs to fight,” Sal said. “Not everything needs to be settled with blood.”
“I do.” Zoe opened her eyes and met Sal’s. “I won’t worsen, but I won’t heal either without feeding. My monster will eventually surface, and I won’t be able to control her. I will attack more people. It’s only a question of when. I will draw negative attention to Mia.” She turned her head away. “And it’s difficult to be a good mother when you see your offspring as a potential food source.”
“I’m not going to kill you,” Sal said firmly, his voice cold. “And if you think I would, you don’t know me. I won’t return hurt for hurt.”
“She’s not asking you,” I said. “I did this. LeDuc might have made her what she is, but I left her to continue on when I could have stopped her.”
“Judah, you can’t,” Sal said, shifting Mia in his arms. “She’s Mia’s mother.”
Zoe tried for a tired smile. “I’m a monster, Sal. As long as I am alive, Mia will never be safe from me.” She reached up and touched Mia’s foot. Mia jerked her leg away and whimpered. “I... I haven’t been kind. My heart is ice. I am a ghost of who I was. Sal, I don’t know how to love her, but maybe you do.” She dropped her arm back to her face and wiped tears from the corner of her eyes. “She needs you and I... I need to die.”
I unbuckled myself and pushe
d magick into my leg muscles so that I could stand. My legs were still wobbly and weak, but I managed with the help of Zoe’s bed rail. “Sal, take Mia outside.”
“Judah—”
“I know you don’t like it. I didn’t like it when you shot those two Vanguards in the back of the head, even though they needed to die. I need to do this. I don’t ask you to understand. I will ask you not to get in the way.”
Sal’s throat worked as he tried to swallow the rest of his objections. He didn’t say anything as he pulled his lighter from his pocket and placed it on the bed next to Zoe. Then, he pulled Mia’s head closer to him, turned and walked out of the room.
Hunter moved to follow but stopped when I called his name. “Before you go,” I said, “I need you to hand me the rubbing alcohol.”
The stainless-steel cart rattled as he searched it. A moment later, there was a white bottle of rubbing alcohol in my hand and Hunter’s footsteps retreated quietly from the room.
“Thank you for helping me,” Zoe said, though there was some bitterness in the way she bit it out. “I know I don’t deserve it.”
“Sal deserved better. So did Mia.” I opened the bottle and held it out to her.
She took it. “Yes, they did. But I’m a monster, Judah.” Zoe doused herself and held her hand out. I slapped the lighter into it. She stared at the lighter. “Promise me you’ll take care of my daughter.”
“As if she were my own,” I promised.
She smiled. “Then I know she’ll be well loved and happy.”
Zoe struck the lighter.
She didn’t scream.
If it looked like I had shed any tears over Zoe’s passing, it was only because the sprinkler system kicked on shortly after she stopped moving.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
I didn’t stay in the hospital overnight, despite everyone’s concern. My body hated me enough that I did fill a prescription for painkillers, and took a half dose on the ride back to Sal’s. He’d given me enough healing that I could walk, but I wouldn’t be in any shape to box with monsters for at least a few days. With Hunter squished between us, Mia in my arms, Neil Young playing on the radio, and the gentle whir of tires passing over the road at highway speed, I put my head against the window and closed my eyes. Dead tired or not, I still couldn’t fall asleep with the radio on.
