by Jasmine Walt
Her scream tore through the air, raking down my back. I skidded to a halt, turned, and ran back toward her.
“Malina!” Ajitah’s cry was anguished.
“Cover her,” Parker commanded. And the world erupted in gunfire.
I couldn’t let her die. Not another life. The yaksha was on top of her, held at bay by the horizontal length of her rifle. The beast looked up, sensing me approach, its gaping maw dripping with saliva. The woman beneath it used the momentary distraction to kick out, driving it off her. I finished it off with a Vindra to the eye. We sprinted toward the Newsagents, neck and neck, then tumbled inside, out of breath yet triumphant. Vindra’s weight settled back into the sheath at my waist.
The doors slammed, and the remaining operatives got to work setting up a barricade.
Ajitah wrapped his arms around me, enveloping me in his warmth, his heart thudding hard and fast against my ear. It felt good. Safe.
“Dumb move, Hayes. Real dumb,” Parker said tightly.
I pulled away from Ajitah and met Parker’s solemn gaze.
“Got to thank you, though. Juliet’s one of our finest. We’ve invested a lot of training in her. It would have been a shame to lose her.”
Invested? Was she serious? “I don’t give a damn about your investment. I saved her because she didn’t deserve to die. None of them did, and maybe if you’d come armed appropriately, they wouldn’t have.”
Parker stiffened. “Silver-nitrate ammo is costly. It was an executive decision to go light on the ammo.”
“And now you’ve lost ten operatives? Your executive decision-maker sucks. You could have replaced the ammo, but you can’t replace the lives lost tonight.”
A low murmur skimmed over the remaining operatives. It was probably a shoddy move on my part—sowing dissension in the ranks—but the ache at the back of my throat for the innocent lives lost today wouldn’t be denied. The facts were clear. This wouldn’t have happened if we’d had proper ammo. Those operatives would still be alive, and we wouldn’t be holed up in this shop that reeked of pine disinfectant, surrounded by hungry Yaksha.
She was staring at me, silent and tight-lipped. Suddenly, I felt like a complete bitch. This wasn’t her fault. She was following orders, a grunt like all the other operatives. Only difference was she was the grunt who would shoulder the blame for all the deaths.
I blew out a breath. “What’s the plan now?”
She swallowed and lifted her chin. “We barricade and call for backup.”
Yeah, sounded about right. There was a dozen or more yaksha out there, and only six IEPEU operatives left, including Parker. We were short on manpower, even with the four of us added to the ranks. Short on weapons too, because the fallen operatives were out there—a meal for the beasts, while their guns lay abandoned.
“Parker, look at this,” one of the operatives by the window said.
She wandered over and peered out.
I moved up behind her. “What is it?”
“They’re not moving. They’re just standing around watching us. Why aren’t they attacking?”
“That’s a good thing, right?” Aaron said.
I glanced over my shoulder. “No, that’s just plain weird. It’s almost as if they’re scared, which makes me wonder—”
The click of a lock behind us had us all whirling around.
A short, portly man stood in the aisle by the counter. “If I’d known I was going to have visitors, I would have dressed for the occasion.” He adjusted his nightgown, casually picked up a bar of chocolate, and peeled back the wrapper.
Parker trained her gun on him, the red laser-sight smack bang in the center of his smooth forehead. “Who the fuck are you?”
“I could ask you the same question. After all, you are standing on my property . . . without invitation, I might add.” He bit off a chunk of the chocolate bar, chewed, and swallowed. “So, what are you doing in my home?”
“You own this shop?” Parker asked.
“No one owns anything in the Red Zone. We merely claim and hold.”
“We just needed a place to hole up until our backup arrives,” Aaron said. “We got attacked by Yaksha.”
The little man waved a hand. “Oh, they won’t come in here. You’re perfectly safe.”
“I don’t sense any wards,” Drake said.
“That’s because there aren’t any.”
“Then how do you keep them away?”
“They don’t like me. Please, help yourself to something to eat, free of charge on this occasion.”
My stomach grumbled, and his dark eyes fixated on me. He grabbed another bar of chocolate and lobbed it my way.
I caught it midair. “Thanks.” I peeled back the wrapper and took a bite. It was good, creamy milk chocolate. Hit the spot. Why was everyone staring at me? I glanced down at the candy in my hand. Ah, yeah. I’d just accepted food from a resident of the Red Zone and eaten it. It could have been poisoned, cursed, or something. But I was still standing, alive and well and still me. Not everyone who came here was dangerous; some were just desperate. I had the sneaking suspicion our host might be a little of both.
The others began to relax, move about, and pick up snacks. I guessed the fact I’d survived a chocolate bar was proof enough that our host was genuine in his hospitality. Static buzzed as someone fiddled with a radio, trying to get the signal to call for backup. Another operative remained by the windows as lookout. Parker leaned up against the counter, her face pale and drawn. I gave the shop a once-over. Clean and neat with fully stocked shelves, the labels facing forward. It was all very orderly. Orderly and weird, because who the heck shopped in the Red Zone? There was so much more to this little man than met the eye.
I sidled up to Drake. “Witch?”
He shook his head. “I’m not getting anything from him.”
“Could he be suppressing it? Hiding his power?”
Drake shrugged. “It’s possible. I’m wondering what he’s doing here, in the middle of the Red Zone.”
Only one way to find out. “Hey. I was wondering what a nice guy like you was doing in a place like this.”
The man rubbed his hands together. “Ooh, is that a chat-up line?”
“No, but it kinda sounded like one, didn’t it?”
He snorted. “I’ll take what I can get. I’m all about the solitude, but on some days being alone can seem overrated. So what’s your story? The vests, the weapons. Looks like a takedown. Who you going after?”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“I know.” He hopped up onto the counter, his legs swinging, slippers dangling off his toes. “So, why are you here? Maybe I can help.”
My spidey sense didn’t twinge around him at all, which was strange, because there had to be something supernatural about him. Why else would he be here, and how else would he be keeping the beasts at bay?
Ajitah stepped forward, arms crossed. “We need to get to a set of coordinates about ten minutes from here, but we’re down manpower and weapons. So unless you can get the radio to pick up a signal so we can call for backup, there’s nothing more you can do for us.”
“And what lies at these coordinates?”
“We’re not sure. Someone has been taking witch bloods, and we think we’ll find them there.”
“Kidnapping?”
“Yes.”
The man rubbed his jaw. “Can’t help with the signal. The zone is a mess of magic and mayhem, but I can get you to those coordinates, no problem.”
Parker stood a little straighter.
I locked eyes with her. “I’m going in. I have to. Carmella is . . . she’s my best friend.”
We were men down. Weapons down. I’d understand if she decided to head back, to get out of the zone. This wasn’t even an IEPEU case. The witches had snubbed the department and come to me. She could just pack up and leave.
Instead, Parker turned to the little man. “How?”
He shrugged. “Where I walk, there is noth
ing but order. Stay close, and you stay safe.”
And how the heck did that work?
“Can you get our guns?” Parker asked. “They’re out there with our fallen operatives.”
He grinned and hopped off the counter. “How many do you need?”
15
We picked up the guns: three Sigs, a sniper, and two Remingtons. They were all we could find. Most of the bodies were gone, just bits and pieces here and there.
“They’ll be back for them later, no doubt. Waste not, want not,” our guide said.
The night was silent, as if mourning the recently deceased. The Yaksha were gone. They’d scarpered as soon as the little guy had stepped out of the store. Ran away like bitches. Man, I so wanted to know what his secret was, but pressing him for more information might piss him off, and right now, we needed safe passage more than we needed answers about his origins.
Ajitah laced his fingers through mine; his body was close enough for me to share its heat. If not for the fact we were in the Red Zone, we could have been taking a nice post-date stroll. Something we hadn’t done yet. Something to look forward to.
I squeezed his hand before gently extricating myself. “I need to speak to Parker.”
He nodded.
I fell back in line until I was abreast of the operative. We walked in silence for a beat. “You don’t have to do this. You can get us there and then ask the little man to get you out of the zone.”
She kept her eyes on the road. “No. We stick to the mission, and we get those witch bloods out. If we don’t, my operatives would have died for nothing. They died to get us this far, and we will make it all the way. We will save the damn witches, and when I get back, I’ll be making some executive decisions of my own.”
Parker was royally pissed. It vibrated off her in waves, a different kind of heat. This, I could understand—the desire to make a difference, to make the lives count. Not such a bitch after all, but still, I needed to know she was sure. This could just be a heat of the moment, stick-it-to-the-man decision.
“I get it. I do. But we have no idea what we’ll find in that warehouse. We could all die.”
Her lips curled. “Then we die swinging.”
Fair play.
We were on an industrial estate. Battered wire fencing, cracked paving sprouting tufts of grass, and thick pockets of darkness. Buildings rose on either side of us—dark sightless eyes watching us, waiting. Vampires might be holed up in those buildings, more yaksha even.
“Stop. We need to stop,” our mysterious escort said.
Parker shot me a frown just as a hair-raising, blood-freezing laugh echoed through the night. Her lips pressed into a thin line. She cocked her elbow and held up a fist, bringing the patrol to a halt.
“What’s going on?” Drake whispered.
The laughter floated through the air again, surrounding us in a cocoon of eerie sounds.
“Stay together,” the little man instructed.
“You heard him,” Parker said.
The remaining operatives shifted into a defensive formation. I pushed my way past the operatives to get to our guide. “What is it? What’s out there?”
He scanned the night. “The one creature that doesn’t fear me. She’s insane, of course. But dangerously powerful.”
“Does this creature have a name?”
“She calls herself Velocity.”
“No shit.” Drake joined us. “I thought she was a horror story our parents told us to keep us in line. Wow, a real chudail . . .”
“I’m glad to see someone is excited by the prospect of an up-close meeting with a nightmare,” the guide said.
I turned to Drake. “What the heck is a chudail?”
“According to the stories, it’s a witch who’s forsaken the skein for something darker and more primal. The skein is order, but chudail only worship discord. It takes over their minds and drives them insane. I thought she was made up.”
The guide snorted. “Velocity is so much more. She is the only creature who didn’t come to the Red Zone of her own accord. She’s trapped here. Unable to leave, she finds her entertainment inflicting atrocities on the weaker inhabitants, which I fear tonight may be you.”
“Great, an insane witch,” Parker said.
Ajitah joined us. “Okay, so what do we do?”
A breeze kicked up, blowing dirt in my face.
“Let me do the talking,” the little man said.
The night air was filled with the crazy cackling again, reminding me of the Wicked Witch of the East from The Wizard of Oz. Now, if only we could find a fucking house to drop on her. The wind kicked up, sucking debris into the air, pulling it into a swirling mini tornado but leaving us untouched.
Around us, the operatives readied their weapons. Parker pulled me back, attempting to shield me with her petite frame. Maybe we could be best buds after all.
Ajitah took my hand and squeezed.
The whirlwind was dying. From within it stepped a bedraggled woman. Her hair was a bird nest of tangles, her face was smeared with dirt and, if the nasty whiff was anything to go by, possibly excrement. And was that a doll clutched to her chest? Velocity stared at us with black, soul-sucking eyes. She bared her teeth and snapped.
“Hello, Velocity. It’s nice to see you again,” the guide said. “We were just passing through.”
“Kosmos, you rodent. Give Velocity a treat.”
“Of course. My store is always open for your custom desires.”
She hawked and spat. “Velocity wants a treat. Wants all the treatsies.”
“These people are not treats, Velocity. Now, how about you pop over later and we can see about getting you some real goodies?”
Velocity smiled, and ice trickled through my veins. She raised a hand—all knuckle and bone. “Velocity likes her treats crunchy.”
Someone screamed.
“Harper!” Parker took a step toward the operative on the ground. His leg was twisted at an odd angle. “Harper, are you all right?”
Harper hissed through his teeth. “Fuck, fuck.”
Kosmos held up his hands. “Velocity, please stop this.”
She licked her lips and clenched her fist.
Harper’s bloodcurdling gurgle scraped the back of my skull, turning my stomach and setting my teeth on edge. He folded forward, his torso twisting in an impossible way. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he lost consciousness.
Parker fired her weapon. The bullet hit an invisible barrier a foot away from the chudail and then fell to the ground with a chink.
Velocity hissed. “Mine!”
Parker yelped as she was lifted off her feet.
Fuck this. I grabbed hold of Parker and tugged. “Let her go.”
Velocity pinned her gaze on me. “My treatsie.”
She wasn’t going to let up. She’d apparently decided to kill them all. But she couldn’t kill me. I was immortal and therefore impervious to her attempts at harm. In for a penny, in for a pound. I leapt toward her. Maybe it was the shock of my sudden attack or the fact that she was so focused on Parker, but I made it through her shield, slamming into her and taking her to the ground.
“Malina!”
Ignoring Ajitah’s warning, I grappled with the chudail, pinning her wrists to prevent her dirty talons from scraping my skin.
“Kill you. Kill you.” Her eyes were an abyss, luring me in. Before I knew it, I was falling into that darkness—into her mind.
I was in a chamber filled with light; the ground beneath my feet was clean white marble, and the scent of incense hung heavy in the air. It was a room that usually lifted my spirits, but foreboding sat heavy on my chest, pulling me to my knees, while the ache low in my pelvis reminded me why I needed to fight. They couldn’t do this. They couldn’t take her from me.
“Look at us, Velomina.”
Not Velocity, not the nickname they’d given me all those years ago when I’d made it through the magic trials three times faster than any other witch. No, t
hey’d reverted to using my given name. The life inside me stirred, twisting and stretching, and I placed a hand on my swollen abdomen to soothe it.
“Velomina!”
My head snapped up to take in the robed figure before me. There were thirteen surrounding me. I knew this because this was the way of our world—the way of a witch trial.
“You have been accused of consorting with humans and of lying with one and carrying its seed.”
“It’s not a seed. It’s a baby.”
“A baby who should not exist. Our magic depends on the purity of our bloodlines. The thirteen covens have deliberated and ruled. We have no choice but to terminate this life growing within you. It is an abomination that cannot be permitted to exist.”
No . . . No! I wouldn’t let them do this. Not my child. Not my baby. “You can’t. You mustn’t. Life is sacred.”
“Not this life.”
Chanting filled the chamber—the evocation of the skein unraveling. The process to unmake what had been gifted. My pulse thundered in my ears, heat shot through my veins. Robert. Dear Robert. Taken from me by those I called sisters. I wouldn’t let them take our child. The skein pulsed, energy traveling down the thread that connected me to it. A deathly energy intent on destruction. I couldn’t fight it. Not alone. But I could disconnect from it. Give myself to the darkness, and embrace the void. It called to me now—opening its arms of oblivion, hungry for the power coursing through my veins.
“Sisters, the void. She is summoning the void.”
Their words grew distant, and the baby quickened. The unmaking rushed toward me, too fast, too powerful.
Please.
Give yourself to me.
Yes.
The darkness surrounded me, slamming into the unmaking and cutting it off. Pain ripped through my abdomen—sudden and breathtaking. Wetness seeped out of me.
No. No, this wasn’t right. My baby, please.
My baby stopped moving.
No!
“What have you done? What did you do?”
Incandescent, uncontrollable fury raced through my veins like wildfire. Curling and wreathing my brain like the smoke from a forest fire. My child was dead. My baby was gone. They’d done this. They’d taken her from me.
