Hell Bent

by Devon Monk

  “Just breathe,” he said. “I’ve got you.”

  So I closed my eyes, or I hoped I did. And breathed.

  Maybe we moved, maybe we stood there. Maybe this was all a dream. Terric’s words drifted around me, soothing, cooling. In them was comfort and peace.

  There was no fighting it. I didn’t want to.

  I breathed his words. His light wrapped me in gentle arms. And all the world disappeared.

  • • •

  I gasped, opened my eyes. Tried to push up onto my feet.

  A hand appeared out of nowhere and pressed against my chest so hard my shoulder blades sank into the cushions at my back.

  Cushions?

  “Stay down,” Terric said.

  “Where the hell?” I blinked, swallowed. Whatever drugs Eli had used on me left the taste of vomit in my mouth. I felt like I’d been run through a meat tenderizer. Twice.

  “You’re at my house,” Terric said. “In my living room. It’s the middle of the night—”

  “Two o’clock in the morning,” another man’s voice said.

  “—and,” Terric continued, “you’ve been hurt. Do you understand me, Shame?”

  I blinked again. The room slipped in and out of focus. Finally cleared.

  Terric sat next to me in a padded chair. His hand gripped my upper arm, applying a slight pressure so I remained seated.

  He wore a gray tank top and dark blue pajama bottoms. Barefoot, hair a little messy like he’d just gotten out of bed.

  Middle of the night. Of course he’d been in bed. I was all about the smart right now, wasn’t I?

  I tried my brain out on the rest of the room. It’d been a while since I’d been over to his house. Instead of the fine photography he usually had on display, the walls were covered in bold, ugly abstracts and a huge TV screen swallowed up the corner by the window where he used to keep his favorite reading chair. Even so, I was indeed sitting on his couch in his living room.

  Standing behind him was the man I’d seen in the car with him: buzz-cut light brown hair, narrow face, and brown eyes set too wide. Jeremy.

  Jeremy scowled at me, his arms crossed. He had on a black T-shirt, flannel over that, and jeans. Couldn’t see his feet, but I’d guess his shoes were on.

  I could not guess whether he had just arrived or was headed out the door.

  From the look on his face, I knew he and I were not friends. Not by a long shot.

  No, we were enemies.

  So Dessa and Dash had been right about him.

  “Shame?” Terric said again. “Can you understand me?”

  “Yes,” I said. Talking took more effort than it should. I didn’t think the drugs had done the last of their work on me.

  “What happened?” he asked.

  Jeremy scoffed. “You have to ask? He’s wasted.”

  “Jeremy,” Terric said quietly, “I wasn’t talking to you.”

  “He’s a waste, Terric. You want to do something for him, dump his ass in rehab.”

  “He’s staying here,” Terric said.

  “Fuck that. Aren’t you done with this piece of crap? After everything he’s done to you?”

  “Jeremy,” Terric snarled. “Get out.”

  Lots of anger in that Jeremy. I was following along, but the conversation was going by so quickly that by the time I pulled together a comment, they had moved on.

  “You can’t just pretend this is normal, Terric. You can’t ignore what he is. Look at him. He’s a junkie piece of crap, baby. Win some, lose some. You lost him a long time ago. Let it go.”

  Terric stood, and I tipped my head back to see what he was going to do.

  He was looking down at me.

  I gave him a smile. I’d seen that anger before.

  Thought about putting together some words to warn ol’ Jeremy that he was about to get his ass handed to him on a platter, but figured he’d catch on soon enough.

  Terric turned so he blocked my view of Jeremy. “Leave. Now.” Two words. Words that Jeremy really ought to listen to.

  I actually hoped Jeremy would push it. It had been a while since I’d seen Terric punch someone in the face.

  “Please, Terric.” Jeremy leaned toward him, the chair Terric had been sitting in between them. “He has you where he wants you. He’s preying on your sympathy. You have to be strong, remember? We talked about this. All he wants is to use you—”

  “Out.”

  “—use your magic for whatever rush can score—”

  “Jeremy.” Terric pointed to the door. “Leave now before I do something to end this. End us.”

  I could cut the tension with a knife. If, you know, I could actually lift my hand. Or make a fist tight enough to hold a knife.

  Also, if I had a knife.

  Jeremy looked past Terric to glare at me.

  I winked at him.

  Oh-ho, that did not go over well.

  He used a few choice four-letter words and stormed across the room. A door slammed shut. Aw. I hurt his feelings.

  Terric was still standing with his back toward me.

  He shifted his shoulders just a bit, as if taking the weight of the damage that might have just been done to their relationship.

  I was, once again, not a lot of help in his love life.

  He turned to me. The anger wasn’t gone, but it was under control. Set aside for now. “Are you okay?” he asked quietly.

  “Super,” I managed.

  “Are you thirsty? Do you hurt?”

  “Yes.” I answered both questions, even though I knew he could tell I was still in pain. Just one of the many joys of being tied to another person’s soul: he hurt, you hurt.

  He sat back down in the chair with a sigh and handed me the glass of water from the side table.

  It took me two tries to get my hand around the glass. Those were some long odds I’d actually get any of the water in my mouth.

  “Here.” He hadn’t let go of the glass yet. So he stood, sat next to me, and pressed the glass back in my hand.

  Then he lifted my hand with the glass to my mouth. Helping me drink.

  It was embarrassing. But I needed that water. And needed the help. I gulped as much of it as I could before I had to breathe again.

  Terric tipped the glass away, waited for me to stop gasping, then helped me drink the rest.

  “What happened?” he asked as he placed the glass on the coffee table in front of the couch.

  “Eli,” I said.

  Terric froze. “Where?”

  “My room. Shot me with a tranq.” I swallowed, trying to get my brains in order. “Jesus, hate this.” Pointed at my head.

  “Eli was in your room,” Terric repeated. “And he shot you with a tranq gun? Did he say anything?”

  “Lots. The usual crazy.” I was out of air. Worked on filling my lungs. “He cut up Joshua just to get our . . . attention. Just to fuck with us.” I was shaking now, a tremble I couldn’t seem to get under control.

  Terric made a blanket appear from somewhere nearby, draped it over my legs and up to my neck.

  “What else?” he asked.

  “Said he wanted me—us—to save him. Find him. Save her.” Stopped for breathing again. This was getting old.

  “Find who?” Terric shifted off the couch and knelt on the floor in front of me, then settled there cross-legged.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, suddenly alarmed.

  “Your feet are a bloody mess,” he said. “You showed up on my doorstep with no shirt, no shoes, and looked like you’d walked all the way from the inn to here, barefoot.”

  “Did I?”

  “You may as well have. Dessa called. She found you at a bar downtown. Brought you here. I’m going to heal your feet.”

  “Wait. Don’t.”

  He wrapped his hand around my left ankle. I didn’t think I could pull away if I tried.

  I tried anyway.

  Nope.

  “Just tell me what else he said.”

  A so
ft warmth spread out over my foot, which was a far cry better than the pounding ache I’d been unsuccessfully ignoring.

  “Anytime now, Flynn,” he said.

  Huh. I must have drifted. He set my left foot down carefully, then picked up my right foot by the ankle.

  “Said Dessa knows where he is. Knows what’s going on. Said he’s a prisoner. Going to kill everyone. In two days if we don’t find him. Stop him. Save her.”

  “Her who?”

  Terric put my right foot down, and that lack of pain made me realize how damn exhausted I was. “His soul.”

  “Fuck,” Terric breathed. “So he does have a Soul Complement. And they’re using her against him?”

  “I think so,” I said. “Or that just might be what he wants us to think.” I wouldn’t put it past Eli Collins to manipulate and use his Soul Complement for whatever dark scheme or experiment he was involved in. “Or maybe he’s telling the truth and someone is using her against him.”

  Terric didn’t say anything for a bit. Just sat there, cross-legged, with one hand absently on my bloody bare foot. “Did he say who he’s going to kill?”

  I nodded, which sent the room swinging. Not doing that again. “Anyone who stands in their way. All of us. You. Me.”

  Terric took a deep breath, let it out.

  “So Jeremy is unhappy,” I said.

  “He was being an ass. He doesn’t like you,” Terric added. “And he is the least of my problems right now.”

  “Am I the most?” I asked, trying to pull together a smile. I wasn’t sure if both sides of my mouth were working.

  He looked up at me. “Always.” He shook his head, as if trying to figure me out. “What the hell were you thinking, walking half a city barefoot?”

  “I don’t remember. Any of it.” A hard image of blood on my lips flashed through my mind. “Might have hurt people.”

  “I already thought of that. Sent people to see if you did any damage. Did he look sane?”

  “Collins?”

  “Yes.”

  “Not really. Desperate and crazy.”

  “Not a winning combination,” he said.

  “Maybe for him,” I said. If you believed the records on the man, Collins had done a lot of brilliant things while being stark raving mad.

  Terric stood. Walked away. By the time I began to wonder where he’d gone, he was walking back, bare feet quiet in the thick carpet.

  “Whatever he shot you up with isn’t out of your system yet,” he said. “You want a doctor?”

  “Doctors don’t work on me.”

  “You’re not inhuman, Shame.”

  I didn’t say anything. This was an old argument.

  He must not have expected me to say yes to the doctor anyway. He had a pillow in one hand and another blanket in the other. “Then you should get some sleep,” he said. “I’ll take care of . . . whatever needs to be done until morning. You’ve got four hours.”

  “Find Dessa,” I started.

  “I will.” He set the pillow on one side of me. “Lie down.”

  I worked on getting my legs to move. Lifted one with the help of my hands. Then the next. Didn’t have the energy to do anything else.

  Just sat there staring at my feet stretched out on the couch in front of me.

  Terric bent, putting his mouth near my ear. “Don’t argue and make this harder,” he said. He slid one hand and arm behind my back, and the other under my knees.

  I was about to be manhandled. It was as physically close to him as I’d been in years.

  I shut my mouth and stared at the ceiling, trying not to say anything, trying not to think anything while he half lifted, half slid me into a prone position.

  I couldn’t have done it on my own. Not right away, anyway. He didn’t say any more about it. Didn’t mention how weak and wrecked I was.

  Just straightened, retrieved the blanket, spread it out over me. I shivered from the pocket of cold air followed by the warmth of the blanket settling around me.

  “I’ll put some water on the table,” he said. “If you need the bathroom, try to wait until morning. I don’t think your feet can take the walk, and there’s enough of your blood on my carpet I have to clean up already.”

  His voice was fading. Walking away, I thought. Couldn’t see him. My eyes were closed.

  “Ter?” I whispered.

  “I’m here.” Close. Sitting in the chair again. I thought I smelled tea.

  “Thank you,” I said. “I . . . I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t,” he said. “Whatever you’re apologizing about, I won’t accept it until you can tell me in the morning light, looking me straight in the eye.”

  “You are a picky bastard,” I mumbled.

  “Yes,” he said, “I am.”

  And then darkness and warmth swallowed me whole and dragged me down.

  Chapter 16

  “Wake up, Shame,” Terric said. “Time for food.”

  What the hell was Terric doing in my room? I opened my eyes.

  Correction: what the hell was I doing in Terric’s house?

  “French toast, sausage,” he continued. “Think you can eat?”

  I lifted a hand, rubbed my face. My arm was sore; the side of my neck felt swollen, bruised. And when I breathed in too deep, something in my chest scraped my bones.

  So, not the worst I’d ever woken up feeling.

  “Food,” I repeated. “My mouth tastes like ass.”

  “Spare toothbrush in the bathroom. Be careful on your feet.”

  That brought it all back to me. Or at least the clear images. Half of what I remembered was pain, blurry flashes, and a muddle of sensations and sounds.

  “So he drugged me,” I said.

  Terric had showered. His hair was still a little damp, combed back, and dripping just a bit on the shoulders of his white T-shirt. He also wore jeans and boots, one ankle propped on his other knee. He was drinking tea from what I knew was very expensive china.

  He lifted his cup toward the tray of food on the coffee table. French toast, coffee, sausage, and apple butter.

  “Not going to feed you. Unless you want me to.”

  “No,” I said. “I don’t.”

  I bent, groaned as I pulled the tray over to me, setting it across my legs. Didn’t spill a drop.

  If Terric was talking, only the walls were listening. I didn’t hear a thing while I consumed every bite, lick, and morsel of breakfast.

  I felt like I hadn’t eaten for months. And after I’d plowed through the food, I felt a lot better.

  “Did you spike it with . . .” I wiggled my fingers over my empty plate.

  “No. You walked for miles last night, Shame. Anyone would be hungry. Also, I am a hell of a cook.”

  “Yeah, you are.”

  I scraped the last bit of tart and sweet apple butter off the plate with my fork, licked the tines clean, then set the tray back on the table. Noticed the coffee carafe, cream and sugar there.

  Refilled my cup. Sat back and took a drink.

  “Did you find Dessa?” I asked.

  “Not yet. The Hounds are looking.”

  “Try the inn.”

  “Why?”

  “She’s renting a room. Did you tell Clyde about this?”

  “Just that Collins contacted you last night and said we have a day or less before more people die.”

  I thought that through. “So you didn’t tell him he wanted us to find his Soul Complement? It’s not like you to lie, Terric. That’s my shtick.”

  Terric drank his tea with that quiet grace that reminded me of elegant people in old movies. “He could have gone to anyone,” he said. “Why did Eli go to you, Shame?”

  “Fuck all if I know.”

  “Maybe he still thinks we’re the head of the Authority?” Terric said.

  “Everyone knows you were the head of the Authority. But no. He made it clear he doesn’t think the Authority has any power.”

  “If I tell Clyde Eli wanted us to find his Sou
l Complement, Clyde’s going to want that handled through proper channels. What do you suppose that is?”

  I rubbed my fingers across my scalp. God, I was filthy. “I don’t know. Call the cops? Start an investigation?”

  “We’re already investigating Eli. The police already know he’s a suspect in Joshua’s death. They’re already looking for him. The Authority knows he’s behind Joshua’s death. We’re looking for him.”

  “So . . . what? The police would question me, I guess.”

  “Detective Stotts would lock you up,” Terric said. “For your own safety. Maybe as bait for Eli, but mostly to keep you safe. Plus, you wouldn’t be out barefoot on the streets destroying swaths of innocent horticulture from one end of Portland to the other.”

  I cringed. “I killed plants?”

  “Trees, bushes, grass, greenhouses. Took out a neighborhood garden off of Lombard.”

  I waited. Waited for him to tell me how many people I’d killed.

  “None,” he said over the rim of his cup, guessing correctly what I was thinking.

  “There was blood on my mouth. In my mouth.”

  “I think a few raccoons and possums met their maker.”

  “Are you sure? There were people, a lot of people.” The memory was chaotic, but I knew it wasn’t a dream. “A bar?”

  “No missing persons reports, no unusual injury reports at the hospitals. No unknown causes of death. Not bad for being half out of your mind.”

  I closed my eyes. Realized my heart had been beating. Hard. With fear. Worry. Terric wouldn’t lie to me. Not about this. Not about the monster inside me.

  I sat there for a bit, until my heartbeat quieted.

  “So if we’re not telling Clyde that Eli tried to kill me so I would agree to help him, what’s next?” I asked.

  “You,” he said, “are going to take a shower because you reek. I have some clothes I think will fit.”

  “Jeremy’s clothes?” I asked, my eyes still closed.

  “No.” Tight. Didn’t want to talk about it.

  So, of course, I did. “Other than thinking I’m a waste of skin, is there some specific reason he hates me? We haven’t met before last night, have we?”

  “You haven’t met,” Terric said quietly.

  “He seems to know a lot about me.”

  A pause. Then, “He thinks he does. I’ve . . . said a few things.”