by Dara Kent
“Good luck with that.” She popped her hip and crossed her arms, mirroring me.
She obviously picked up a few of my expressions and mannerisms while hanging out in my brain. As if she wasn’t creepy enough before. “I don’t need luck.”
“Do you know why no one has been able to find the weapon yet?”
I knew what she was doing, but my curiosity was piqued anyhow. I couldn’t help it. “Why?” I hissed, the question bitter on my tongue.
“Because Tomas knew, and the secret died with him. I made sure of that.”
“That doesn’t make sense. If the secret died with him, then how do you know?”
“I’m the last who knows the truth. Work with me, and I will give you the weapon.”
“Even if I believed the first part, why in the world would you give me the weapon?”
She grinned, sharp teeth glinting. “My memories are yours. Use them. But first, we should start with the ones you’ve been forced to forget.” She waved her hand at me, white light exploding around me, washing away everything.
31
Jolting from sleep, I sat up in bed. The dimly lit motel room came into focus, the confusion from a deep sleep lifting. We’re tracking Pestilence. We’re in Florida. Swiping at the drool on my mouth, my eyes snagged on my illuminated phone on the nightstand. Several voicemail alerts waited, and I reached for it just as it started to vibrate again.
“Hello?” I rasped.
“Riss.”
I glanced at the red clock lights on the old alarm clock. It was three a.m. “Tomas, what is it?”
“I’ve got a lead on Pestilence.”
I was on my feet before I made a conscious decision to move, fumbling for my clothes. Shit, where is my mask? “I’ll wake Lily.” She was in the adjoining room connected by a door, which was currently closed. My baby sister snored like a truck driver, even though she vehemently denied it. Even with video proof.
“No,” Tomas snapped. “Just you.” Silence extended between us for a moment. “Things could get a little dicey … more than normal.”
I choked back a laugh. He had to be joking. “Dicier than when we normally fight demons?”
“Just don’t bring her, okay?”
“Yeah, sure.” I left Lily behind whenever possible as it was. I didn’t need that to get back to her though. Tomas wasn’t one to blab, but if he even mentioned it in passing to Monica, I could imagine a scenario where she made a joke about it to Lily, and then boom, trouble for me. “Where am I meeting you?”
“Local twenty-four-hour diner up the road from you. Can’t miss it with the big fluorescent sign announcing itself as E-R ty-fo hours a day.”
I snorted. “There’s one in every small town, I swear. They make the best coffee though.”
“Yeah, always the best coffee. See you soon.” The call beeped, signaling he’d hung up.
Scrambling around the room, I did one last check to make sure I had everything I might need. Clothes, weapons, mask, good to go. With keys in hand, I slipped silently into the night, the parking lot mostly empty of cars, and not a soul besides me in sight. It was surprising, because evidently, even during a pandemic there were idiots who didn’t have two bits worth of common sense to rub together. I half expected a random street party packed with non-mask-wearing dummies basking in their stupidity. Thankfully, I was resistant to demon-born illnesses, even if I did get skeeved out regardless. Of course, the regular humans invited what Pestilence brought, convinced their freedoms were above the good of all. If God existed, those were the kind of selfish people he or she would not be welcoming into the pearly gates.
Huh. Maybe they’re making more room for me and I should be thankful. Laughing to myself, I hopped into my car and sped down the road to meet Tomas. It was only about a three-minute drive, and he’d been right, the diner wasn’t hard to miss. Spotting my dark-haired friend already seated at a booth, I hurried inside.
Sliding in across from him, I grinned behind my mask. Not that he could see. “Thanks for the coffee.” The cup was still steaming.
“Figured you’d need it since I woke you up at this hour.” His eyes crinkled at the corners, signaling a smile of his own behind his all-black mask.
Glancing around, I lifted my mask to take a sip of coffee, before hastily replacing it. “Ah, that’s good shit. Doesn’t even need anything to cover it up.” I pushed the plate of cream and sugar away, yearning for some hand sanitizer.
Tomas tore his mask off his face. “I’m sick of this thing. We aren’t the ones who need it.”
I grimaced. “Mine makes me feel better.”
He rolled his eyes. “It would.”
Letting his jibe slide, I took another sip of coffee, the bitter liquid rolling over my taste buds and warming my middle. “All right. Time to spill exactly why you dragged me out of bed at this hour, why you wanted me to leave Lily behind, and how you ended up at the diner down the street from our motel.”
“How I ended up here seems pretty obvious. I tracked Pestilence … you tracked Pestilence …”
“Mmm … did you see our car or something?”
“Or something,” he muttered. Reaching under the table, he produced a small, archaic-looking book. The cover was a rusty-colored brown with no title.
My eyes widened, my interest piqued. “Where’d you get that?” The room suddenly buzzed with energy, my fingers itching to touch the aged bindings.
“Doesn’t matter where I got it, just that I did.” He smoothed his callused hand over the top. “And there’s some very intriguing information in here—”
“On how to take out Pestilence?” I resisted the urge to clap my hands together with glee. We’d all been tracking Pestilence, but none of us had a clue how to deal with him when we found him. I assumed we’d have to take him on like any other demon, but finding his weakness ahead of time could make the difference between life and death, therefore Heaven and Hell in the long run.
“Yes. And not just send him back to Hell, hoping he doesn’t one day find his way back to Earth for another round, but to actually kill him.”
Dumbfounded, I slumped back in my seat. “Kill him. Like, kill him, kill him? Like dead and gone forever?” My mind reeled. Since demons didn’t have souls, that meant Pestilence would never be reborn, he would be erased from existence for all of time, in theory at least.
“I know. It seems impossible.” He gulped down some more coffee. “But—”
“Need anything else?” a waitress with a mask and face shield tentatively asked, standing a bit farther away from the booth than pre-pandemic times.
“What kind of pie do you have right now?” Tomas asked, drumming his fingers along the edge of the table.
I motioned to his face. “Put your mask on, Tomas, don’t be a rude asshole.”
He narrowed his eyes at me briefly before complying. “Sorry,” he muttered.
“S’okay,” the waitress mumbled in response, before rattling off the list of available pies. I tuned her out, my mind still processing what Tomas had revealed.
When the waitress finally tottered off to retrieve whatever flavor of pie Tomas wanted, he whipped off his mask again. “I seriously can’t breathe in this thing.”
“Oh, waaah, stop being such a huge man-baby. You can fight demons, but you can’t wear a mask?” I tapped the edge of mine, which was back in place. “I’m thinking I might have to revoke your badass hunter card and recategorize you as the weakest man-baby hunter in existence.”
“I don’t know what the big deal is, we can’t get demon born—”
“How do you know we can’t spread it?” His mouth snapped shut. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. So you better put your damn mask back on when the waitress brings your stupid pie.”
He grumbled as he reluctantly tugged the loops over his ears.
Tapping the cover of the book, I said, “Back to the whole killing Pestilence thing. Umm … I need more details.”
He palmed the book, then stuffed it in
side his jacket. “A witch gave it to me.”
“A witch? What do you mean a witch gave it to you? Like she popped out of nowhere and was like ‘Hey, I’ve got some information for you that might help with the whole Pestilence pandemic thing’?”
He snorted. “Pretty much.”
“Yeeeah, I’m going to need more than that.” Seemed extremely suspicious to me. If a witch, or most likely a coven of witches, had the information on how to take out Pestilence, and the rest of the Fab Four, why was this the first we were hearing about it? And not just us, but the entire community of twice-marked hunters? Or really, hunters in general.
He expelled a long breath, his fingers continuing to tap along the edge of the table. “I know it sounds far-fetched and suspicious, but I-I don’t know … I believe her.”
“Oooh, a her.” I nodded. “Does Monica know?”
“Don’t be like that, Riss. I didn’t let some witch fuck me into submission.”
I quirked an eyebrow. “But did you?” I lifted my mask for another sip of coffee. “Fuck her?”
He slammed his mug down. “No! I love Monica! I would never betray her like that!”
“Just checking.”
“And you say I’m an asshole,” he muttered.
“We can both be assholes. Maybe that’s why we’re friends.”
“As I was saying.” He resumed his annoying tapping along the edge of the table. “The witch told me that she and her coven had been in possession of this information for a long time, but only now were they at liberty to pass it on.”
“Sounds super shady to me.”
“That’s what I thought at first, too, but … but what if a way to kill Pestilence and his brothers exists? Think of what that could mean.”
Major bonus points which boded well for all the twice marked involved. “It could mean our ticket straight to Heaven.” I leaned across the table and grabbed Tomas’ hand, putting an end to his drumming. “Or, it could be some kind of elaborate trap.”
He tucked his hands under the table, the faint sound of tapping resuming. I narrowed my eyes, but he ignored me. “I’ve considered that. And any other possible angles. It’s just—”
“It’s too tempting to pass up. I get it.” It was the reason Tomas didn’t want Lily involved. If we were falling for some kind of elaborate witch ruse, ones in league with demons, he didn’t want to risk more hunters than he needed to. “Before I decide whether or not I’m going to help you with this galactically stupid idea, I’m going to need you to tell me more than a witch gave it to me and it sounds pretty good.”
“She told me that her coven’s seer predicted this was the right time to release the book. She said they aren’t exactly fans of Pestilence either.”
He was giving me more of the same, talking in circles. None of what the witch supposedly shared with him was convincing. “What was her coven name? Who do they pray to? Are they dark or light witches?” I rubbed my temples. “I know hardly anything about witches, and even I know we need to know a bit more background on this coven before we blindly trust them.”
“There’s a spell to conjure a weapon.”
Okay, now we’re getting somewhere. “A weapon. What kind of weapon?”
The waitress chose that moment to return with a slice of some kind of fruit pie. Peach, or apricot maybe? She set it on the edge of the table and slid it closer to Tomas with the end of her finger. “Can I get you two anything else?”
I shook my head. “No, just bring the check, please.”
“I’ll bring it right over.” She sounded relieved, probably because she wasn’t going to have to deal with Tomas anymore.
“Thanks.” I turned my attention back to Tomas. “We’re going to move this discussion somewhere more private. Any ideas where? If we don’t want Lily involved, then my motel room is not an option.”
“I have the perfect place,” Tomas said around a mouthful of pie, his cheeks puckered out like a chipmunk’s.
“Hurry up and eat then.”
Anticipation surged. Despite my best efforts to temper my expectations, I couldn’t help but be … hopeful? Excited? I wasn’t sure. I wanted the information from the witch to be legit, but I was a realist bordering on full-on pessimist. I wanted it, but couldn’t afford to let myself believe it. I also couldn’t afford to pass up an opportunity that it could be real. Most likely Tomas and I would probably end up dead for our efforts, but what if …
What if?
32
“You brought me to a huge, empty warehouse?” I crossed my arms over my chest, glaring at Tomas. “You know more than you told me back there at the diner. It’s a spell, isn’t it? And you’re ready to try said spell now, aren’t you?”
He dropped his head. “Can you blame me? I want— No, I need to know whether this thing is for real or not.”
Tomas and I had both been twice marked for over a decade now, him for a bit longer than me. And I’d personally only known him for a handful of years, but I’d never known him to be impulsive. That was usually my MO. “What’s got you so bajiggity about this? Slow down. We don’t want to rush into this without having enough information.” I hated being the responsible one. Especially when Lily wasn’t around. I internally cursed the unknown witch for putting me in the position. Unless she wasn’t setting us up … in that case, I was only mildly annoyed at her.
“She—the witch—she told me I had to move quickly.”
This is looking less and less likely to be anything more than some kind of trap or ploy. What could their end game be? To take out some twice-marked hunters? To enslave us to their will? There were quite a few options, none of them ending well for me or Tomas. “Great. So not only did this witch from an unknown coven pop out of nowhere to offer you never heard of before information about a way to kill Pestilence, but she urged you to move quickly. And what, cast a spell? What do you know about magic?”
Tearing the mask from his face, he stuffed it in his pocket. “That’s why you’re here.”
It took me a second for his words to register. “You think because of Jensen I know how to cast a witch spell?” Throwing my head back, I laughed. “He’s not even a witch.” I wasn’t about to fill Tomas in on the fact that I wasn’t exactly sure what the difference between witches and warlocks were. The best plan was probably to keep it simple.
He produced the ancient book—aka witch propaganda—again, flipping quickly to a marked page. “You must have picked up something during your time together.”
I frowned, not that he could see from behind my mask. “Not really.” Why did everyone think that? It wasn’t like Jensen sat around doing magic all day. In fact, he hardly ever used it when I was around.
Tomas sidled up beside me, practically shoving the book in my face. It was open to display a series of sketches of arcane symbols, runes, and other unfamiliar images, accompanied by directions on how to cast a spell in search of the ultimate weapon.
I widened my eyes dramatically. “Why is it in English? I feel like a super-secret ancient spell should probably be in some other language.”
“They translated it for us?”
Slapping at the book, I took a few steps back. “Come on, Tomas. You’re smarter than this. I know you want to believe it’s possible. Hell, I do, too. But come on. None of this—”
“I’m sorry, Riss.” Tomas spun, his fist connecting with the side of my head.
Spots danced in front of my eyes as I stumbled back, surprise rippling through me. “What the fuck, Tomas?”
“The spell needs your blood.”
Before I could process, he was behind me, binding my wrists and elbows. “Tomas, this is all a scam. Stop now before you do something we both regret.”
“It won’t kill you. They promised me that.”
Tomas pushed on my shoulders, and I fell to my knees, pain spiking up my thighs and down my shins. I felt a sharp prick, followed by a burn spreading down the side of my neck. Did the motherfucker, my supposed friend, just drug me
? “You better not have done what I think you did, asshole.”
“But I need your blood to get the weapon.” He sounded crazed, or more than likely under a hex or spell. Twice marked hardly ever have dealings with witches, but this was exactly the reason I was wary of magic.
“Ow moof oo bood oma?” My tongue was a dead slug in my mouth, my lips numb, producing a nonsensical sentence.
He gently placed me on my side, my entire body locked in paralysis. “It won’t kill you. I would never do that to you.”
Barely able to blink, tears leaked out of my eyes and trailed down my face. Screams of rage were trapped in my chest, fizzling out as I sucked in steady breaths. I wasn’t sure what he’d given me, but I was thankful my awareness remained. I wanted to know what was happening, even if I couldn’t do anything about it at the moment.
Panic surged, my heart beating erratically, threatening to claw its way out of my rib cage. Anyone who came along could do anything they wanted to me and there was nothing I could do to stop it. Perhaps Tomas thought he wouldn’t permanently damage or maim me, but a demon could find me and rip me to pieces … or worse.
Would he tell Lily what happened? My mom? Jensen? Or maybe if Tomas is caught off guard no one would ever find out what happened to either of us.
I tracked what I could of Tomas’ movements, what I could see limited from my position on my side. He had the book open while he drew symbols along the ground in front of me. His face was puckered in concentration, sweat dribbling down his temples.
I trusted you. You were my friend. Maybe still are. If I get out of this alive and you’re not under some kind of hex … I will kill you. I will rip you apart with my bare hands and there’s nothing anyone can do to stop me. Even if you are under the influence of the mystery coven, I’m still going to kick your ass.
An eternity seemed to tick by as I waited there, prone and helpless, my body frozen and my mind frantic.
