Still in my shorty pajamas, I slipped out of my room eager to take advantage of the quiet house and explore. I had the run of the place with Cash and the car conspicuously absent. Tommy had passed out in his room from the previous night’s alcoholic endeavors and when I poked my head in to check on him, he barely moved. It was the best time for some reconnaissance on my new guardian and potential mentor.
I started in the dining area, rummaging through the papers that always seemed to cover the table. I didn’t know what I was looking for but read everything. In short, I was being a snoop. He’d poured his heart out to me in a drunken state, but somehow, I felt he had intentionally deferred my question. Hell, he’d had thousands of years to perfect his manipulation skills. The more information I had on Cash the better. Committing to a blood bond wasn’t something you did every day.
Some will want you on their side, others will want you dead.
That’s what he’d said last night. So if he didn’t want me dead, he wanted me on his side. That much was obvious, but I was still suspicious.
As well as paperwork, the table was littered with various witch enforcement paraphernalia. I recognized a collar clasp and a pair of glass cuffs and there was also a stun-gun-thing and another weapon-type-thing—a bit like a grenade but without a pin. I sifted through pages and pulled out one at random. It was a death certificate of a woman dated three years ago with a small photo clipped to the top. Something was scribbled at the bottom. “Last known host.” Could it be linked to Petra? I kept looking and found three more death certificates with photos and a similar note.
My fingers hovered over a tattered photograph—a young Cash and probably his father. They were smiling widely at the camera at a baseball game. If Cash had no feelings why would he carry around a photograph of his dead father?
The Jeep crunched into the driveway. I hastily tucked the photo under the papers and scampered into the kitchen. When Cash walked in with groceries, I pretended to rifle through the fridge. He wore a blue baseball cap and a Texas Rangers shirt, similar to the one in the photograph—gray with blue sleeves. Maybe he was feeling nostalgic if that was possible. He cooked eggs in silence and after we ate, we did the dishes.
I wanted to ask more about his soul; I wanted to help. Now and then I’d glance at him and find him either deep in thought, or quickly looking away.
“C’mon, out with it,” I said after the fifth time he threw a look in my direction.
“Out with what?”
“I can practically hear your thoughts. What’s up?”
He gave me a half smile and put his dish away. “We need to make our relationship formal.”
I froze. “What?”
He threw the red-checked tea towel over his shoulder and stood with his hands on his hips. “I think I understand why you are hesitant to do this ritual. You need to see proof of my worth first. You want a sample of what I can teach you.”
“Oh, the ritual.”
“Of course, what did you think I meant?”
“Uh, nothing.” Well, that could’ve been embarrassing.
“There’s a lot for you to learn. We’re going after an ancient witch who’s been hiding from me for years. She’s good. So the first priority is to work on your self-preservation and hunting skills—yours are non-existent. Then we’ll do the ritual and I’ll brief you about tonight’s barbecue.” He pointed at my pajamas. “You should change. That’s not suitable attire for what I have planned.”
“Whoa,” I said, blinking at the barrage of information. But he was right. We had a serious takedown staged for tonight and I’d promised I’d do the ritual. “Okay. Let me just get showered.”
“You’re actually going to do as I say? No argument?”
“I told you at the hospital and again last night—I’m all yours.”
“You didn’t say that, but good. I get the reference.” He relaxed then gave my pajamas another look. “No need for a shower. You’ll just get messed up. Put on some exercise clothes and shoes for running.”
I started toward my room but turned back. “Wait! I just remembered something. I spoke with Jed last night, he wanted me to tell you something.”
I told him the Inquisitor’s plans and, when I finished, he pulled out his phone. “Go get ready. I’ll sort this out.”
I dressed in cut-offs, an orange racer-back gym top and slip-on runners, and was ready to leave when I caught sight of my backpack under the bed. Uncertainty unfurled in my gut. I unzipped the side pocket and retrieved Kitty’s key. For an instant, I was faced with an alternate decision. Stick with Cash or go out on my own. I turned it over in my fingers, contemplating, then on instinct flipped it into the air and asked if I should do the ritual with Cash. It was a big decision and, as Kitty mentioned last night, one that could take me to another country. I snatched the key mid-air and held it in a fist, palm-up. I tapped my foot, torn between looking at the result or going it on my own.
“Nah,” I said without opening and then threw the key over my shoulder. It clattered to the floor.
I made my own choices. I would stick to them.
I tied my hair into a ponytail as I walked outside and found Cash holding the handle of the Jeep’s rear door. As I approached, he lifted the hatch.
“Eek,” I cried and jumped back.
A hog-tied woman lay scrunched up with her metal collar attached to a car battery by a wire. She squinted at the sudden light. I blocked my nose. She was filthy—stinking, rotten filthy. Her brown hair clumped in dreadlocks and grime covered her face. Pale, smudged clothing covered her skinny frame and her clear green eyes whipped around wildly. She looked human—wild and untamed—but still human. Baring her rotting teeth, she hissed.
Cash poked her with his finger. She whimpered and jerked back. His lack of compassion shocked me.
“Don’t—”
“This,” he said, cutting me off, “is a witch.” He leaned in and flicked the battery wire. “This wire is sending voltage to her collar, disrupting the signals she needs to evict herself. She’s essentially stuck in there until the battery drains, or we pull it off.”
“Holy shitballs, Cash. You’ll get arrested for this, with the treaty and all. Where did you find her?”
Cash’s nostrils flared and his eyes watered. He pulled a packet of gum from his shorts pocket and stuffed a piece into his mouth. He offered me a stick, but I shook my head, unable to believe he was so calm when a hog-tied woman lay next to us.
“Sorry, my olfactory is really sensitive. The gum helps to block out the rot. The treaty is a load of bullshit,” he said. “There’s no amnesty for unlawful possession of a human body. I doubt she’s received permission from her host to enter the vessel and she looks too young to be suffering a terminal illness. After you and Tommy fell asleep, I found her at your aunt’s house last night running around with a few other fresh hosts, so I took her and killed the rest. It appears that Petra’s got a bit of an entourage, or spies. Haven’t figured that part out yet.” Cash pulled a pair of mirrored aviator sunglasses from his back pocket and put them on. “I’m going to let her go. I want you to catch her, neutralize her and then kill her.”
My heart leapt into my throat. “You’re serious?”
He stopped chewing and stared at me. My reflection in his sunglasses showed my golden eyes wide and mouth open—I closed it.
“As soon as I remove the collar, she’s going to attack. I’m doing this because you need practice. We don’t know what we’ll be facing tonight, and we can’t afford surprises.”
“Shit.” Panic surged through me. “But what do I do?”
His brows lifted over the edge of his glasses. “You don’t know?”
“It’s not like I catch witches in my spare time and keep them in my car to practice on. Shouldn’t we talk about this first?”
“Tell me what you know.”
“All I know is that you need to drown them to really kill them—that’s what you said right? At the police station? Do I have to k
ill her? I don’t want to kill her, she looks pitiful. Can’t we just fix her somehow?”
He folded his arms across his chest and his temple pulsed madly as he chewed. “You can’t fix a witch, La Roux. She’s not like you or me. She’s not even like a human. Her sanity is gone, the soul she pushed out is gone. She’s a shadow of her former self, run by obsession. You’d put down a rabid dog wouldn’t you?”
“But what right do we have to take her life away? They’ve fought this hard to get to where they are. Isn’t that just evolution? You’re telling me this Game is all about listening to the universe.” I pointed at the car. “Isn’t that the universe speaking?”
“You’ve got the wrong idea. The universe doesn’t always speak about happy endings. Think about the animals in the African wilderness. This is the same—survival of the fittest, just like the Game. The best way to learn is to jump into the deep end.”
I blinked, shocked at his harsh words. “I’m not going to get out of this am I?”
It wasn’t the first time Cash had mentioned the threat of mortal danger in the Game. It was starting to sink in. I swallowed. If I wanted to live, I needed to toughen up.
There is a moment, just before death, when peace settles like a blanket, soothing and calm. It prepares you for passage to the next life. I knew this because I’d felt it. When the Inquisitor had questioned me, I’d been under water, screaming and struggling. Then all at once, I realized fighting was futile and submitted. I stopped thrashing and let go. That acceptance conserved my breath and my energy. It kept me alive. I had to accept my fate. I clenched my fists. It was time to grow some balls.
“You ready?” Cash asked with his fingers around the witch’s collar. “On the count of three, I’m going to release her. Then it’s up to you.”
“Wait. You haven’t told me what I need to know yet.”
“1, 2…” He let go of the witch and she released an explosion of energy that knocked me over. Cash didn’t flinch.
I scrambled to my feet, blinked to clear my vision and chased the witch to the end of the clearing. Running on pure instinct, I closed the gap between us and launched myself, hoping to grab onto her trailing dress. I collided with her wiry body and we tumbled into the grass and gravel.
“Oof.” She kicked me in the guts as I grappled with her. My nail beds screamed as I grasped her flesh, clothes, anything in reach. Her fists flailed. We rolled, pulling each other’s hair like bratty teenagers. She screamed and hissed and I slammed her down by her shoulders, holding her there with my legs straddling her lower body. Phew. I was on top, not so hard with her bony frame. But then her eyes went black. She was channeling, gathering her energy. I built my own energy reserves, pulling it from my surrounds—the trees, wildlife. Before I could release it, pain sliced through my naked shoulders where her dirty fingers had gouged. The wound burned.
She spat in my face. Eew, fucking gross. I cringed, let go of her shoulders and leaned back, but kept my legs locked tight, determined not to let go as she pummeled my chest. Her saliva tingled where it touched my skin and I willed my body to reject the hex—like an unwanted virus. I concentrated until my head ached. “Reject the virus,” I said. The burning receded, and I recovered my wits. I slapped her face and grappled for her flailing fists.
“We all know about you. You’re a famous nothing, a mistake, a reject,” she hissed.
“I know you are, but what am I?” I stuck my tongue out. Okay, maybe not such a good idea. She punched the side of my head and black spots swam across my vision. I’d underestimated her strength and my own stupidity for baiting her. I scrambled to regain my stronghold and straddled her scrawny body.
Grab her hands. She uses telekinesis through her hands.
That’s right. Petra used telekinesis against me.
I grunted and held her hands at her side to stop her using her weapon against me. I searched wildly for Cash. Damn it, where was he? I had no water, no electricity. What was I supposed to do?
Knock her out.
“What do I do?” I screamed.
I copped another spray of spit and flinched. My eyes closed and my grip went lax. She wriggled out from under me, toppling me to the side. I recovered and lunged. I grabbed her kicking leg. She hauled herself up, and suddenly our positions were reversed. She was on top. Her nails pierced my shoulders, and I screamed.
Cash sauntered over. “Stop holding back,” he said. “Use your gifts.”
The witch hissed at him, shifted slightly, and my lapse of attention won me a handful of dirt in my eyes.
“Argh.” I squeezed them closed. Sharp pain erupted behind my eyelids and tears gushed from my eyes. “You want to fight dirty, huh?” I said through gritted teeth.
She tore at my face with her chipped nails and I tried to ignore the pain. It would heal. My body would take care of itself. I stopped thrashing, and pushed at her chest, yanking handfuls of cloth to dislodge her, but she was a banshee on a mission. She wouldn’t budge.
I thought of fire, blisters and pain, then spat in her face. She screamed when my saliva made contact. Her hands flew to her face, but she didn’t get off me. I felt around the grass and gravel beside me. My blurred vision trailed the movement of my fingers as they slid over the bumpy surface. I needed something—anything to knock her out with.
Her skin sizzled. My hex had worked. I was obviously better at counteracting witchcraft than she was. Triumph faded to despair as her legs cinched around my waist. I gulped for air.
Telekinesis is in the hands.
Yes. Why was I trying to knock her out when I could fry her with my hands? My energy built and crackled inside me, my hair lifted with the static. The air grew thick and the taste of metal lanced my tongue. My fingertips heated, and I palmed her chest, giving her everything I had. I smelled burning flesh and her screams stopped. Her body convulsed, eyes bulged and her sizzling body collapsed.
Leaves rustled gently in the wind, a quiet a contrast with the previous chaos.
I choked on the scent of her sweat, grime and cooked flesh, then remembered her saliva covering my face and gagged. I grunted, trying to push her body off when the weight lifted as Cash pulled her away. The action took little effort from him and he discarded her like a rag doll next to him. It was a taste of that lethal force I’d sensed earlier.
That was not fun. Not fun at all. I scrubbed my face with the back of my hand.
“You’re a walking Taser gun,” he said, amused. “But what will you do when she wakes?”
I rolled onto my side and propped myself up to squint at him. My body burned wherever she had scratched me. “You’re fucking kidding me.”
“No, I’m not. She’ll only be stunned for a few seconds, a minute at the most.”
I sprang to my feet and hauled ass to the car, intending to grab the electric collar.
“No, no. You need to kill her, not subdue her again. You won’t always have weapons at your disposal. Look around, what else can you use?”
“Fuck!” I changed direction and ran to the house where I pulled the garden hose back to the witch. I wrapped it around her neck then planted my foot on her chest and pulled tight, strangling her. I winced as she stirred.
“I hate this. Oh my God, I hate this,” I chanted as I pulled. “Do I kill her before drowning her or after?”
Holy moly, I sounded ridiculous.
She opened her eyes and started to thrash about. I shoved a knee onto her chest and yanked on the hose. She choked and bloody spots appeared under her skin. Oh, jeez.
“It’s risky to kill before you drown them. Some witches go into shock after their host’s death and take a few minutes before they can eject, but others can do it within thirty-seconds. Better to kill via drowning,” Cash said. “Then you’re sure you got her.”
I didn’t think much could happen in thirty-seconds, and didn’t want to risk leaving her to turn on the water. I tightened my core and strained. Her face bloated, her tongue bulged out, and finally, like tiny, bloody firewo
rks, the vessels around her eyes burst and she went limp. The host was dead, the witch stunned, deep inside the body.
I sprinted to the tap and turned it on and then shoved the gushing nozzle into the witch’s mouth and clamped her jaws shut with my hands. The water flowed into her throat and filled her lungs. Her stomach bloated.
“Will this work?” I asked, eyes frozen on the train wreck in front of me.
Cash’s feet sloshed in the sodden grass as he crouched down next to me. “In theory, yes.”
In theory. Great. I gulped and tried not to panic as we watched and waited. The cold water relieved my burning skin. My nose itched, and the sensation became unbearable.
“Are we safe yet?” I asked. I felt for her soul’s energy but found nothing. “I can’t feel her. How can you tell for sure she’s gone?”
“If she hasn’t moved by now, then she’s not going to.” Cash turned off the tap then pointed to the water oozing from her mouth and nose. “See the black tinge? That’s the saturated residue of her soul. She’s gone.”
I shot off the body. As I did, a wave of shame rolled over me. I turned my back on the sodden corpse and sat, clutching my middle and staring at the house. My muscles trembled, my teeth rattled. Emotions battled inside—shame, relief, triumph, sadness. Fury won.
“You made me kill her,” I snarled.
“Yes, you did a good job of it too. You thought on your feet, used your initiative. I think you’ll do well in the trials. Your fighting skills are atrocious and you have no control over your abilities, but we can work on that,” Cash said from behind me. I heard a series of heavy squelches. “Just to be sure, I think I’ll dump her body in the ocean. Then we’ll do the ritual.”
“I didn’t want to kill her,” I yelled, looking to the sky for help. But there was no God. I was one of them and I had taken a life. My tremors grew until I had to hug myself to stop from toppling over. “I’m not a killer. I fix things. I don’t break them.”
“She’s a witch. We’ve been through this.” His gruff voice gave me a hint of his frustration.
Soul Thing (The Game of Gods Book 1) Page 18
