Demon Song bs-3

by Cat Adams

  “Lana has issues, Celia, and she’s getting help for them. But she’s not a screwup. Don’t you think this is hard enough on her as it is? At least leave her a little dignity. She’d do the same for you.”

  I bit my tongue until it nearly bled. No, she wouldn’t. She’d had the chance many times and the bottle was always more important to her than her own child. And while I’d like to say she was just weak, that’s not fair, either. She’d actually been a terrific mother until Daddy left and Ivy died. Then she’d crawled into a bottle, and she hadn’t come out since. I didn’t think my visiting her would mean anything to her at all, but it would make Gran happy. That was important to me. I let out a sigh. “Okay, fine. But I have a lot of things going today, so we’ll have to make it short.”

  “Half an hour. That’s the longest we can stay this first time anyway.”

  I calculated in my head. “Okay. It’ll be at least thirty minutes to get in and out of the mall and get back to your house. How about I come by at three?” It would be tight, but I could probably still fit it all in before Gwen left for the day. But if one single thing went wrong, the whole schedule would be blown.

  Fingers crossed.

  Gran’s voice went back to her regular happy self. “That’ll be fine, dear. I’ll have a bite of lunch with the girls and see you then.”

  I said good-bye and pressed the off button. Honestly. It’s days like these that I wonder if it might not have been better to have had all my memories erased by the vampire.

  * * *

  It was worse than I’d expected. Far worse. I hadn’t anticipated that watching the video from the fly at the zoo would backlash on me in a regular jail. I’d been to jail before and it hadn’t made my heart pound or my head hurt like this. The catcalls of women prisoners sounded like the screams of animals. The touch of the guards as they patted me down made me want to lash out with fangs bared.

  What the hell?

  I’d had two energy shakes at the mall and I’d been fine there. I’d resigned myself to trying to have a good time as I drove to Gran’s new apartment at the assisted-living facility. It had been a surprise to see Pili there. I’d met her on the Isle of Serenity, the legendary home of the Pacific sirens. She was one of the primary prophets to the queen. I hadn’t realized Pili had decided to retire and move to the mainland. I didn’t know a siren could retire. But she and my gran were getting along great guns. They were bridge partners and fast friends already. Still, there was something serious in the way Pili looked at me when I said we were going to visit Mom that made me nervous. Pili’s a powerful seer, and I recognized the look—I’d seen it on Vicki, and Emma, often enough. But Pili hadn’t said anything, and I hadn’t asked. Maybe she’d known what was coming. Because right now I wanted to run screaming out of this place. Or kill someone.

  Desperation and panic began to cling to my skin like six weeks’ worth of grime. I itched under my pretty yellow sweater as though lice were crawling on me. Even Gran noticed me clutching my hands and breathing fast and shallow. “Celia? What’s wrong?” She touched me and I jumped. Now the guards started watching—noticing what seemed to be a person with guilt weighing on her.

  “I don’t know.” My head shook as I looked around, searching for the source of the feeling. The visiting room was an open space with pale peach walls, furnished with tables and padded chairs. There wasn’t anything in the room that should give me the feelings I was having.

  Then Mom walked in the room, and I knew the source of my feelings. Her hair was in strings and she’d lost so much weight that her face was gaunt and pinched. But it was her eyes that dragged a horrified gasp from my throat. They were lifeless and distant—the thousand-yard stare of the abused. I know because I’ve seen them in my own mirror. “Mom?” I stood up and started to walk toward her. She didn’t even look up. Before I reached her, another prisoner was escorted into the room, a tall mixed-race woman with unruly yellow dreadlocks. She pushed her way past Mom. Hard. The mother I’d grown up with wouldn’t have hesitated to go toe-to-toe with someone who shoved her aside. But now Mom just stumbled and fell against a nearby table.

  Two things happened simultaneously. I started toward Mom to help her up and the temperature in the room dropped by thirty degrees. Everyone in the room looked up as a familiar chill settled over the room, causing breath to be seen and windows to fog. The woman who’d pushed Mom was lifted from her feet and thrown a dozen feet across the room. She landed in a heap in the corner but came up fast, looking for someone to attack. No guard came to her aid and the one by the door who’d escorted her in looked rather satisfied as she dusted off her jumpsuit.

  The woman wouldn’t find anyone to retaliate with because you can’t punch a ghost. I was surprised to realize it wasn’t Vicki, despite the large amount of energy being expended. This ghost felt more petite.

  Mom’s eyes met mine, and … nothing. My own mother didn’t recognize me and the look in her eyes chilled me even more than the effect of the ghost hovering overhead. It was almost as though Mom was trapped inside herself. I could feel her fear and the desperation beating at me like a cold wind, but none of it showed in her body language or face. “Ivy?” I whispered as I helped Mom to her feet.

  The lights blinked once.

  The other prisoner must have decided that Mom was the cause of her fall, because she was stomping toward us. I was all set to block her path when she was thrown backward again. Once more nobody came to her aid, and this time she narrowed her eyes and stared at Mom, probably wondering if she was using telekinesis.

  “Are you … guarding Mom?”

  Another blink caused everyone to look up and around. Wow. I didn’t know Ivy had it in her to expend this much energy in one session. But it would explain why Vicki couldn’t give me a good answer on whether Ivy was okay. In a prison setting, she was likely draining herself to exhaustion at every turn. I was both happy that someone I trusted was staying with Mom to help and distressed that she so obviously needed help.

  I led Mom to the table and got her seated. Gran was nodding sadly as she touched her daughter’s hand. “This is what I wanted you to see, Celie. I don’t know what’s happened to her. They claim they’re not using any medication on her and that nobody is hurting her. But look at her. What are they doing to my baby?”

  Tears formed at the corners of Gran’s eyes and I blinked back my own salty wetness. I had a feeling I knew what was wrong. But I was more afraid of that than if someone was hitting her. I touched her chin and turned her face toward mine. “Happy Birthday, Mom. It’s Celia. Can you hear me?” I spoke the words both out loud and into her mind. But there was nobody home to answer.

  Her eyes were unfocused, staring somewhere over my shoulder. I looked up to the sparkling formation near the ceiling. “Did someone hurt her before you got here? Is that why you came?”

  The overhead fluorescent lights blinked … and then blinked again.

  No? That made my brow furrow as a shout came from the other side of the room. “Fix the damn lights! I’m getting a headache!”

  “Who are you talking to, Celie?” Gran’s voice was nearly a whisper, as though she was afraid who would overhear.

  “It’s Ivy,” I responded with a smile in a similar whisper. “She’s here and has been watching over Mom.”

  I understood why Gran was whispering. We were getting way too much attention. The guard at the door was moving closer and two security cameras were spinning in our direction. The staff had already spent plenty of time on me at the entrance. The pale skin and fangs had bothered them no end, despite the fact that I’d walked in during broad daylight and passed through both the outer and inner magic perimeter. I’d even passed the holy-water test and had a cross shoved onto my wrist. But that didn’t mean I didn’t make them nervous. The more things that went wrong now, the more likely I would wind up in the cell next to my mother.

  “Oh, honey, that’s not good. Ivy’s only a child. Things go on here she … shouldn’t be exposed to.
”

  “It’s okay, Gran. She’s helping. Really. She’s keeping Mom safe from the other women. And I don’t think you can stop her.” I didn’t add that there were quite a few things Ivy had seen in life that she probably shouldn’t. After Dad left, Mom had spent most of our childhood drinking, drugging, and sleeping around.

  Rather than say something I shouldn’t, I stood and walked over to the guard near the door. “Excuse me. How would I go about talking to the doctor or nurse here? I think my mother is reacting badly to the medication they’ve given her.” It seemed safer to say that than what I truly believed. I was afraid my turning more siren had kicked in my mother’s abilities, too. Here in jail, she couldn’t see the ocean. That was going to be a problem. But I didn’t want to announce she had the same blood. Especially not after my rather public trial.

  The woman was older, heavyset and dark skinned, with long hair worn in a bun at the back of her neck. She stood just about tall enough to stare at my neck, but I could tell immediately that she was all business and could probably teach me some new things about pain if I stepped out of line. She opened her mouth and I was transported out of California and straight south of the Mason-Dixon Line. “Honeychil’, your mama started doin’ that all on her own. I handle the medication calls on her block and I guarantee not a single pill has passed her lips. I’m worried about her, too. She’s not made for this place. She’s going downhill faster than anyone I’ve ever seen. It’s like she’s pining away, ready to join that pretty little girl of hers on the other side.”

  The guard’s absolute acceptance and knowledge of Ivy spooked me even more. “You can see the ghost?”

  “Oh, hell, yes. The women in my family are channelers from back before the War of Northern Aggression.” I honestly could say I hadn’t heard that term for the Civil War since … well, since high school. “You probably see a sparkly cloud, right?” I nodded. “I see a skinny little thing of about eight with long hair and a sad expression. Determined, though. Ain’t nobody gonna hurt her mama.” She made a motion with her chin toward the prisoner with the dreadlocks. “And I’m not inclined to stop her from trying. Nothing in the rule book says I have to stop a guardian angel from guardianing.”

  Despite the mangled language, I agreed. “She was a pretty heavy drinker, though. Could that be affecting her?”

  The guard shrugged. “Body should have detoxed in the first week. I never say never, but I haven’t seen it before.”

  “And you’ve been a guard for—?”

  “Twenty-three years now. Two federal prisons, two state, and now here. I like it here best. Not many real badasses in this place, despite what Goldilocks over there believes she is.” She gave me a small, evil smile. “She wouldn’t know a badass until after one laid her flat. Frankly, makes me smile to see that tiny little girl whup her butt.” Then she shook her head sadly. “Unfortunately, in that time I haven’t seen whatever’s wrong with your mama.”

  She shook her head and stared at Mom. I followed her gaze to take in the flaccid features and lifeless feel. She made tsking noises and let out a sigh. “This place is killing her and I don’t know there’s nothing anyone can do about it.”

  7

  Lieutenant Rogers, the southern guard, promised to put our cards in Mom’s cell for when Mom was “feeling better.” Then I’d dropped off Gran after promising I’d speak to the administrator of the jail, who had already gone home. There had to be something we could do to get Mom back to normal. I might find her a royal pain in the ass when she was drunk, but even that was better than how she was now.

  I was finally on my way to Birchwoods, only an hour late. I’d called Gwen and asked if she could stay. She’d agreed and hadn’t even given me one of her veiled admonishments about time management or consideration for others. That meant it was pretty serious.

  I was praying under my breath as I approached the guard station that the person handling the gate was anyone but Gerry.

  No such luck.

  He opened the door to the tiny shack and put out a hand for me to stop. I hadn’t talked to him since the whole Eirene thing. I had no doubt it was going to be awkward at best. He’d been head of security until he went berserk on me after the trial. Then he’d been demoted back to gate jockey. But maybe if we both pretended it never happened, we could eventually heal. I was at least willing to give it a try.

  I rolled down the window. The sun was low enough on the horizon that it stung. I leaned my head backward as casually as possible to stay in the shade. “Afternoon, Gerry. Dr. Talbert is expecting me.”

  There was a long enough pause that I was forced to look at his face. His lips were a tight line and I could swear I could hear him grinding his teeth. “Celia…” The way he said it made my discomfort rise.

  “Look, Gerry. You don’t have to apologize. I understand you were being manipulated. It wasn’t—”

  “Apologize?” The outrage in that one word made every nerve in my body stand at attention. “Apologize to you?” He lowered his voice to a hiss. “You’re a damned vampire. You’re undead evil and should have a stake driven through your heart right before your head gets chopped off.” My jaw dropped just like Gran’s had at the jail. “I wasn’t being manipulated. I volunteered to help put you down. I’ll do it again if I get the chance.”

  Excuse me? Did I actually hear that? “Did you just threaten to murder me? I could have you arrested for that. I’m not undead. Your own security footage will convict you.”

  He leered at me with a maniacal expression. “I turned off the tape.”

  I opened the car door in a rush and slammed him back against the guardhouse door. Keeping the pressure on his body with my admittedly supernatural strength, I stepped out into the full sun. It made me feel a little sweaty, but the sunscreen was still doing its thing. Gerry squirmed and swore to no avail. “Do I look dead to you?” I reached out and grabbed the massive silver cross he always wore over his blue tie and clutched it tight in my bare hand. No smoke, no smell of burning flesh. For me, no pain. Gerry’s eyes went wide as I released the cross and held up my hand. “Either I’m still a human who just has a bad overbite or you’re not a true believer.…”

  He couldn’t move his arms, so I reached through the guard shack’s window and pushed the button for the gate. As it swung open I got back into my car. Gerry was still remembering how to breathe as I put the car in gear. “I suggest you spend a little more time reading the Bible. Follow the Golden Rule and do unto others as you would have them do unto you. Because believe me when I say that if you try to carry through on that threat, I’ll be doing unto all over your ass.”

  I wanted to bare my fangs. The approaching sunset was making me twitchy. But I had better things to do with my time than give him the satisfaction of doing exactly what he expected me to do. Instead, I stepped on the gas and the Miata shot through the opening gates when they were open barely wide enough to avoid scratching the paint.

  Gwen stepped out of the administration building just as I brought the car to a stop with a squeak of the tires. She was accompanied by someone I presumed was one of the security staff. It occurred to me that without sound the security footage would make it look like I’d attacked Gerry. I was surprised there weren’t a dozen guards with rifles and crossbows leveled at my chest right now. Hell, maybe there were and I just couldn’t see them.

  I was still seething, but I’d slammed a nutrition shake on the way up the long, winding drive. Hopefully, with the edge off my hunger I’d just appear frustrated and not lethal. Gwen’s arms were crossed over her chest and her brows were raised. “Would you care to explain yourself?”

  I was not going to apologize. I wasn’t the bad guy here. Even better, I recognized the man with her, Jesse Garcia. He was the facility’s truthteller. He’d listen to my story—and Gerry’s—using his magical intuition and then report to the security staff about what had really happened. He was a dozen times more powerful than any lie detector. He’d know which of us was telling t
he truth, or what combination of facts represented the truth. “I actually thought I handled that pretty well, considering the provocation. He ought to get fired for what he said to me, or at least reprimanded. He threatened my life. I could call the D.A.”

  “He threatened you?” Now Gwen’s face showed confusion, and her body language changed.

  I repeated the whole conversation for her as we walked into the building. Her whole body went rigid when I got to the part about doing it again. She looked at Jesse; his brows were raised, lips pursed as though tasting the truth of my story.

  After a long moment, he nodded. “I’ll be going down to the gate now, and I think there should be several armed officers with me, ma’am.”

  Gwen let out a sound that was as close to a growl as a refined professional woman in charge of a large facility could allow herself. Then she turned to me in full sight and hearing of Jesse. “Celia, on behalf of the administration and the owners of Birchwoods, please accept my apology for that … serious breach of protocol. I assure you that guard will be terminated.”

  The part of me that was insulted and hurt would be happy to have Gerry fired on the spot. But the other part of my brain made me let out a sigh. “You can’t stop people from being prejudiced. All you can do is make it painful for them to say out loud what they really believe. If you fire him, it’ll be all my fault and he’ll never rest until he puts me in a grave. I never did a thing to hurt Gerry and it really bugs me that being attacked and nearly killed has somehow made me his enemy. It sucks, Gwen; it really does.” That was an understatement. Gerry’s reaction brought home every emotion I’d bottled up since I was attacked. I was a vampire now. Evil. Undead.

  Damn it.

  Maybe she saw that when she stared into my eyes. I looked away first. “Go ahead and discipline him. Dock his pay or give him a tail chewing. But don’t fire him. Please. At least with a job he’ll be busy most of the day and won’t have as much free time to spend trying to shove a stake through my heart.”