by Krista Walsh
Gabe squeezed his fists and forced his mind to remain in the room. He couldn’t grab his brother out of the river, but he could save himself, and Ligeia, from drowning under John’s power. He just needed the opportunity.
His consciousness turned cloudy, his awareness stretched and patchy. Gabe held on, but his heart pounded in his chest and his lungs felt as though they might burst. His muscles strained for freedom even as he tried to relax. No amount of flailing would release his body from the jinni’s hold. This was no illusion, but a deeper magic. He couldn’t fight his way out.
His belief in his own limitations was so ingrained that he didn’t notice the first niggle of an idea growing in his mind until it blossomed into a full realization: the spell was linked to John, and as Gabe had explained to Allegra, no being, no matter how powerful, could exist in two places at once.
He raised his hands to the invisible band around his neck and turned his face away from the glow of his fingers as he opened a small rift directly into the Fae dimension. The heat tingled his skin, and across the room John cried out as though burned, his magic tugging him into the otherworld even as his body struggled to remain where it was.
The spell around Gabe’s neck disintegrated and he crashed to the ground, gulping for air.
As he caught his breath and waited for the spots in his eyes to clear, he watched Ligeia turn her face away from John’s shoe. The jinni’s concentration had slipped, and his hold over her was broken.
Ligeia opened her mouth and sang.
John looked down on her in open-mouthed horror, his hands raised against her.
She didn’t give him time to ensnare her again. She sang louder, a variation of the song Gabe had heard her begin when they’d been out on the river. The wolfhounds growled in response, their lips pulled back, the fur between their shoulders raised in thick gray-and-silver waves.
Only the wolves weren’t growling at the siren — they’d turned on their master, who stretched his purple hands out to them and stepped back, his shoulders hunched.
Gabe tried to raise himself to his hands and knees, but his shaking legs gave out and he tumbled onto his side. He closed his eyes to stop the room from spinning. His heartbeat danced and his fingers trembled. He was in no condition to fight. If he tried, he’d fail.
But he didn’t need to fight.
All he had to do was look up.
He braced his hands on the floor and pushed himself onto his elbows as he lifted his head. As though the jinni’s power still had him, his skull dragged down on his shoulders, a hundred-pound weight it was taking all his effort to move.
Ligeia’s song cut short. The growls stopped, then restarted, and Gabe knew his time was up.
Drawing in a deep breath, he opened his eyes and cast them in John’s direction. The jinni was focused on Ligeia, his physical hands around her throat. The dogs paced at her feet. They sniffed the hem of her dress and saliva dripped from their gaping mouths.
“Hey,” Gabe rasped. “Asshole.”
John’s gaze jumped to his. Their eyes met. John released his grip on Ligeia to turn toward him, and Gabe’s heart jumped into his throat. Time slowed down and his nerves tightened until his skin prickled with panic.
His stony gaze hadn’t worked. The jinni was still free. Ligeia was still in danger.
His mind tried to sort out what he would do now that his plan had failed, but it came up empty.
John’s mouth opened and a long purple tongue snaked out from between his lips. The corners of his eyes creased, giving him more the look of a mask than a man.
He stepped toward Gabe, and Ligeia gasped. Gabe remained frozen, braced for John to attack him.
He wasn’t prepared for what came instead.
A sharp pain shot through his eyes. Images in his head distorted the room around him, and for a moment he stood in hundreds of places at once. Emotions pummeled him, desires ensnared him, and his conscience rebelled as a rise of guilt twisted his guts. Voices swirled through his mind, and no matter how hard he clamped his hands over his ears, they grew louder.
His stomach revolted and the pain in his head spread down his neck and into every muscle of his body. Although consciously he knew he wasn’t moving, he felt as though all of his joints had folded in on themselves, contorting in directions that defied physiology.
The images in his mind grew brighter, the voices right against his ear, and Gabe clung to his sanity, certain it was about to snap.
Then, as though someone had turned a dial, the maelstrom of noise and color ebbed — not disappearing, but settling at a level that allowed him to take in the room around him over the images battling in his brain.
Gabe passed a hand over his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose until his nausea subsided.
Everything had happened in seconds, but it felt like hours had passed.
The room was silent except for the ticking of the grandfather clock. Gabe opened his eyes, keeping his gaze downcast as he looked around the room.
The wolfhounds had vanished, but Ligeia remained huddled on the floor. She was staring up at John, who stood frozen with his arms outstretched and his expression in an open-mouthed sneer. His lithe figure had hardened into smooth limestone, every feature trapped in fine detail. His violet eyes, so piercing in life, had transformed into sightless orbs that would never again take in the extravagant wealth of his home. Each crease of his hardened clothes appeared carved as if by a master craftsman — a skill John himself would have appreciated.
He had become a monument to his own greed. Just one more piece of beautiful art to add to his own collection.
Gabe heaved a sigh and sank down to the floor. His curse had worked.
The jinni was dead, the spell was broken, and they were free.
22
Ligeia eased away from John’s still form. Keeping her movements slow and wary, she reached out to poke his leg, then recoiled from the touch of the smooth stone.
Gabe watched her, too stunned to move, too wrapped up in his own whirling acceptance of what he’d done to do anything else.
When Ligeia’s gaze sneaked in his direction, though, he squeezed his eyes shut and turned away. He hauled himself up to his knees and crawled his fingers across the carpet in search of his sunglasses.
“A foot to your left,” came Ligeia’s soft voice. Her words sounded flat, stilted.
Gabe’s fingers stumbled on the metal frames, and he opened his eyes quickly to check the state of the lenses. The arm on the left side had snapped off, but the mirrored circles were unscathed. He perched them as carefully as he could on his nose to block out his direct view.
“Gabe, man, are you all right?” Percy asked, shaken, the moment the speaker slid into his ear. “What happened? What’s going — holy shit, he’s a statue. Sorry, I only just got into the video system. Better late than never right? But I did manage to wipe the feed for the last hour. No one will see you go in.”
Gabe didn’t have it in him to thank him. Instead, he asked, “How are you holding up?”
“I’ll survive,” Percy replied. “But I’m telling you, man, I’ve got to move closer to you. Then I could give you a good punch in the face for being such an idiot.”
“And it would be deserved,” Gabe said.
“Do you need me for anything else, or can I go change my underwear?”
“You’re a free man, Perce. But if the hound got you, I would clean out the bites before you go down for the night. I’d hate to have you come down with some kind of soul-eating disease.”
Percy groaned. “The things I do for you.” He paused. “But I’m still glad you made it out.”
The line went dead.
Gabe sagged against the edge of a chair, his mind replaying the last few minutes. The scenes were all jumbled together, his perspective now mixed with John’s. His new memories were vying for attention and wanting to be explored as they took the tour of their new home.
What he’d done felt like fiction — a made-up sto
ry that couldn’t possibly be real. And yet there was the ending right in front of him. He had turned a jinni to stone.
A sharp laugh burst through his lips, and Ligeia’s head jerked toward him. She chanced a glance at his face, and when she saw he had his sunglasses on, she dragged herself closer to him.
“It’s over,” she said.
He tilted his head back and stared at her. The whiteness of her dress, which had shone at him while his sunglasses were off, now carried a murky hue, and he discovered a deeper loathing for his dull and colorless existence. He could never know life in the brightness of the world, no matter how badly he craved it.
“Not yet,” he said. “John wasn’t lying about his importance to this city. It’s going to take a long time before everything gets sorted out.” He forced out a laugh. “But at least that’s someone else’s problem.” His smile faded and he scanned Ligeia over. “So, how does it feel to have no one chasing you down, no one threatening to bind you? You’re free.”
She pressed her palms to her cheeks and ran her fingers over her face. She reached for her hair and twisted the white locks between her fingers until they glinted with a golden-blond sheen.
Her face broke out in a smile, followed by a sweet laugh, as clear and innocent as a child’s. Pink suffused her pale skin, and her white irises cleared to blue — not a magical, vivid blue, but a gentler shade.
For the first time since he’d met her, Ligeia looked human.
“I feel…light,” she said, and rose to her feet. “Like the darkness in my limbs is gone and I can do anything in the world. Like hop on a train and cross the country and start over where no one knows who I am or what I do.” She clutched her skirt and spun around, letting the ribbons trail behind her. “And that’s exactly what I can do, right? I can leave?”
Gabe used the chair to bring himself to his feet. His back cracked and his muscles tugged at the strain of the movement, but his legs held his weight. “You can do anything you want now. Within reason.”
She threw her arms around his neck and stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “You saved my life.”
He gave a half shrug. “I did what I set out to do. If I got to swing in and play hero, that’s just a bonus in my books.”
“If we can do anything now, can we get out of this place?” she asked.
Gabe nodded and stretched his hand toward the door. If he never had to see the ugliness of this house again, he’d be a happy man.
Ligeia took his hand and led him toward the door. Gabe cast a last glance around the room. How long would it take John’s people to realize he wasn’t coming back? He wondered what would become of the jinni’s collection, if he had anyone in his life who would take care of it or if some museum would sweep it all up and put it on display for the world to see. He imagined tourists wandering over polished floors, peering through glass at the beautiful Egyptian artifacts and gawking at the unique and incredibly life-like statue. The description card would probably note John’s philanthropy, the benefits he’d brought to society. No one would know the destruction he had caused behind the scenes.
His gaze fell on a leg stretched out from behind the couch, and he stepped away from Ligeia to kneel beside David. A quick check for a pulse confirmed he was dead.
“He deserved it,” Ligeia said.
“Maybe, but I don’t want to be here when Deverill’s security team comes in and finds him.”
He rose to his feet and nodded his head toward the door. They crossed over the black and white tiled foyer to the marble entrance, then stepped out onto the porch.
The sun had shifted while they’d been inside, and the golden hue over the snow had brightened.
When they’d arrived at the house, Gabe had seen the reflection of the snow as cold. Now, even through the shade of his sunglasses, the world looked lighter somehow. Melting snow trickled from the roof, pattering into the snowbanks and clearing the snow to the dead grass underneath.
“Do you know where you’ll go?” he asked.
Ligeia tilted her head to look at the sky, where a small gray cloud drifted overhead. “North, I think. Far north. I like the snow — it makes me feel safe and hidden. And I’d rather be somewhere no one will notice if my presence stirs it up a little.”
She cast him a coy sidelong glance.
He imagined her in the snow, singing to the penguins and grabbing the occasional snack of lost explorer. His throat closed at the image, but he swallowed it down.
“I’m going to regret letting you go, aren’t I?” he asked.
Her perfect smile lit up her face, the porcelain beauty of her skin catching the light in a way that squeezed his heart, and she twisted her fingers through his. “Probably. But don’t worry that I’m going to go rampaging through the next town I reach. I’d much rather leave those days behind me. A siren can get fat on too many souls.”
She patted her stomach, and her long lashes dropped in a wink.
Her jovial teasing stirred up the question Gabe had held back since they’d left his apartment. If he was going to satisfy the rest of his curiosity, he figured he wouldn’t have a better chance than right now. “How much of your story was true, Ligeia? You expressed remorse for the men you killed, but you seem to have no issue with the idea of doing it again. Which of your faces is the true one?”
Her smile flattened into a line as she pressed her lips together, and for a moment he thought she’d keep the truth to herself. Finally, she straightened her shoulders and said, “John made me an offer and I agreed to it to save the man I loved. Yes, I tried to break that promise at the first opportunity, but what sane mind would give up her freedom so readily? I regret that I fed so carelessly on the men here. I don’t regret that I did what I needed to survive, but I’m no animal.”
Gabe grimaced, but he realized he wasn’t all that worried. In spite of the damage she’d done to New Haven, he believed her when she said she wanted to change. Sometimes it took one moment to show you the path you were supposed to take. His moment had come in a locked room; maybe John’s death would be hers. His conscience might bother him about Ligeia in the same way it did about Allegra, but his sense of guilt was eased by the knowledge that in the end he’d defended the lesser evil.
That didn’t mean he wouldn’t be watching her, though.
He reached into his back pocket, pulled out his wallet, and slid free a couple of bills.
“Here,” he said, handing them to her. “Consider this a bit of a start-up investment. Get some clothes that don’t crunch when you walk.”
She glanced down at the ragged, dated gown, and her lips dropped in the corners. “I’ll be sad to leave this behind. It’s all that ties me to my time, you understand? Everything about this world is so…large.” She gestured to the skyscrapers in the distance that stretched over the roofs of the mansions surrounding them. “I don’t know what to make of it.”
“You’ll adapt,” he said. “Woman like you? It’ll take you no time at all.”
She offered a lopsided grimace. “I hope you’re right. And what about you? What will you do with your time now that you’re not helping an imprisoned woman regain her freedom?”
“I’ll head back to the office and wait for the next client to step through the door and offer me the adventure of a lifetime,” Gabe replied. “It shouldn’t take too long.”
Ligeia laughed and moved to tuck the money into her bodice. Gabe glanced away and when he looked back, the money was safely hidden.
“Goodbye, Gabriel. And thank you.” She gave him a final kiss on the cheek, then walked down the street.
A car pulled out of the driveway ahead, and Gabe turned his face away from the glare of the sun’s reflection in the window. When he looked back, both the siren and the car were gone.
Gabe heaved a breath. He felt wobbly on his feet now that his adrenaline was fading. He forced his eyes open, his eyelids weighed down with days of fatigue and uncertainty, and raised a shaking hand. For a moment, he didn’t think he’d have
the strength to rift back home, but a spark of magic filled his fingertips, and he cut a line through the air. The doorway opened with its warm golden glow, and he stepped through into his silent apartment.
With everything that had changed in the last few hours, he was amazed that his home was the same as it had ever been: a dump. Of course, it was worse now that his futon had a few extra stains from the siren’s wet dress and bleeding wrists. He made a note to throw the thing out in the morning.
He unclipped Percy’s headset from his broken glasses and tossed it on the table, then headed to the fridge for a beer. On his way there, his head spun with memories that weren’t his, and he grabbed the back of the kitchen chair to steady himself.
Maybe no beer, he thought.
The images subsided, but it took a few more minutes for his stomach to settle. Once it did, he stretched his back and shuffled to the bathroom.
Sure, he had a jinni in his brain whose memories were brighter and more vivid — not to mention more violent — than anything that had resided in his head before. There was a siren still out in the world with the potential to cause trouble for someone else. His best friend was injured, and the woman who had hired him believed him to be weak and incompetent. But life wasn’t so bad. He was alone in his apartment, the crisis was over, and his hot water tank was full.
***
Gabe spent the next three days jumping between the bathroom and his futon as John’s memories wreaked havoc in his head. They struggled for dominance, and more than once, Gabe was tempted to give in if it would take away the pain. At his lowest points, he prayed for death, or at least for someone to hold his hand and remind him that he still had things worth living for.
By the end of the third day, his body was weak and exhausted, but the noise and dizzying images settled. Despite their best efforts, John’s memories submitted to Gabe’s. He slept for eighteen hours.
