by Chloe Garner
“You can sleep with me if you want,” he said. “You don’t have to sleep in a chair.”
She looked at him suspiciously, and he held his hands up.
“Perfect gentleman. I promise. Need you well-rested tomorrow to kick Carly’s ass, much as I wish it were me doing it.”
“She’d mop the floor with you,” Samantha said. Jason opened the door and she walked into the room and looked at Sam, sprawled across the bed in his jeans.
“I wish I could help him,” Samantha said.
“You will. Let’s get some sleep, yeah?”
“Yeah, okay.”
<><><>
“Here,” Sam said. “Stop here.”
He looked out the window at a large warehouse where there was simply no choice. He had to go in. He looked back at Samantha, who nodded. She was in tight black pants and a low-cut black shirt with heeled boots, and he couldn’t believe that she intended to go fight in that, but she insisted it was appropriate demon-fighting attire. Jason had asked if he should take off his undershirt and go in bare-chested, but she hadn’t appreciated that much.
They had slept together last night. He remembered wanting them to be romantically linked, but as though it were a memory from someone else’s lifetime. Right now, she was his lifeline, and he was feeling a growing hatred for how much closer she was to Jason than him. She gave him several feet of clearance, no matter where they were, and he could tell she was counting which things he had touched and which things he hadn’t.
Worse, he was beginning to feel like he left… something on the things he touched, as well. Like he was trudging and melting in the sun as he went. Like Swamp Thing. He glanced at her again. He wanted to believe that it was how she was treating him that made him feel like that, but he was certain that he was just beginning to notice what she had seen from the start. There was something deeply wrong with him.
“That’s it?” Jason asked.
“That’s it,” Sam said.
“There may be other demons in there. There could be anything in there. I’m counting on you two to handle all of it. Carly is mine, and she is the only thing I’m going to be paying any attention to,” Samantha said. Jason nodded.
“Got it.” He looked at Sam. “It’s you and me again, Buddy. You remember how it’s done?”
“Jason, we were hunting a night traveler, what, a week and a half ago,” Sam said. Jason shook his head.
“It hasn’t been you and me in months, Sam. You couldn’t wait to get back to Carly. And it showed. I thought you were going to get us killed.”
Sam considered, remembering the night differently, now. It was true.
“I remember,” he said. “You and me.”
“You guys go ahead,” Samantha said. “I don’t want her to know I’m here, yet.” She slammed the car door and looked up at the building. “Good luck.”
“You, too,” Sam said. She looked at him, seeing the oozy, sticky horror, and nodded. Her eyes gave her away. She looked over at Jason.
“Just another day,” Jason said. He and Sam went to the front office door and counted it off. One, two, three.
They went in.
Sam was practically falling, the pull toward the center of the warehouse was so strong. Jason had to run to keep up with him. Once he got there, the whole thing unraveled.
“This is it,” Sam said. “This is where she’s going to be.”
“Clever boy,” Carly said, standing up behind a railing on the second floor. “Did you figure out what I am, too?”
She blinked, appearing in front of them. Dust floated in the air as she walked through an isolated sunbeam, approaching. She smiled the wicked, playful smile that had, very recently, driven him mad. He clenched his fists.
“I’m going to kill you,” he said. She clucked her tongue, flicking her hand and tossing Jason aside without touching him. Sam took a step back. She reached up and touched the corner of his mouth with the back of her finger.
“We had fun, though, didn’t we?” She straightened, cocking her head to one side, her long curls sweeping across her shoulder. “Oh, and you brought a friend.” She turned. “Samantha.”
Samantha stepped out of the deep shadow along one wall, carrying her machete and her hatchet.
“It was my job to bring him here, and I did that. My bonus was getting to kill you, if you turned up. How lovely.”
“You think I would miss the big show?” Samantha asked. “He got dull, there for a while. Apparently you taught him how to party, though. I wouldn’t miss the finale for the world.”
Sam frowned. Samantha’s posture, her facial expressions, even her speech patterns were different. She was upright, open-faced, smiling. Oddly like Carly. Carly grinned and clapped her fingertips together.
“Oh, I did hope you would prove to be interesting. More interesting than him, at least. Do you know what a prude he was when we started?”
Sam heard Jason groan as he struggled to stand up against a wide concrete pillar.
“Are you kidding?” Samantha asked. “Why do you think I took off?”
“Because I told him to get rid of you.”
“Honestly, Carly, I don’t care what you were going for. You picked the wrong brother. When Jason got boring, I bailed.”
“Interesting. Maybe when we’re done here, I’ll see whether you’re right.”
“Take my word for it,” Samantha said, coming to a halt a few feet from Carly. “Only, here’s the thing. You played with my toy. I have to kill you now.”
Carly laughed and sprung backwards, blinking back up to the railing.
“Yes, yes, dear. We’ll get to that. I have the other big reveal to go, though. I brought a friend, too.”
“Well, well,” a man’s voice said as he stepped into the ray of light next to Carly. “It does look like this is going to be fun.” He spoke with a sloppy British accent, a sharp contrast against Abby’s careful enunciation, but he was dressed in a formal pin-stripe suit with a wide burgundy tie and side-slicked hair. He blinked down to stand in front of Sam.
“I was beginning to think I was going to have to come find you,” he said. “Went ahead and crossed and everything.” He turned his head, as though admiring his hair in a reflection, then smiled. “At least I’m going to get to watch from this side. Much more exciting.”
He made a dismissive gesture, and Sam felt a solid force against his chest that lifted him and threw him across the room.
“You, too,” the man said, waving at Jason. Jason left the ground and somersaulted through the air to land within a few feet of Sam. “I’m Brant, by the way,” the man said, “and I’m going to be the new occupant of your body, once we get done.”
“Over my dead body,” Jason growled, pushing himself off the ground.
“Now, now, now,” Brandt said, holding up a hand that flattened Jason against the wall behind him. “You spend hundreds of thousands of years planning this sort of thing out, and then, when the time comes, it just slips away in a few moments.” He glanced over his shoulder at Sam, and jerked his head, slamming him back against another wall. “Let’s enjoy this, shall we boys? This is the quality of cat fight you aren’t likely to see again in your life. Well, in your lives, at any rate, but that isn’t saying much, is it?” He smiled an oily smile and dropped his hands behind his back. “This should be quite good.”
<><><>
Samantha tossed the handle of the hatchet around its own head, catching it on rotation. Carly watched her with eyes that curled up at the outside corners.
“Let’s not be coy about this, doll,” Carly said. “I screwed your boy, and you’re here to get revenge.”
“Oh, come, Lover,” Samantha answered. “You overestimate your influence considerably.”
She swung the hatchet, rotating it around her wrist, enjoying the feel of the weight. The machete in her left hand hung at an angle from her knee, ready. She took a breath, circling Carly slowly. The woman smiled, angular features not accustomed to demonstrating h
appiness or joy. Simply pleasure.
“I must observe, Lover,” Samantha said. “You aren’t his normal fare. I’m told he likes smart girls.
“Men who say they like smart girls haven’t met me yet,” Carly answered. Samantha laughed.
“Women who like men like Sam haven’t met Jason,” Samantha said.
“You weren’t ever with him, were you?” Carly asked. “You talk like someone who’s got no clue.”
“They are brothers,” Samantha said. Carly grinned, glancing over her shoulder, then made a pouty face at Samantha.
“Brandt doesn’t need the hangnail. Maybe I’ll see for myself, if enough pieces are left.”
“Your mistake,” Samantha said, “is assuming there will be enough pieces of you left.”
Carly laughed, then charged. Samantha bent time.
<><><>
Carly launched a kick at her head and Samantha ducked, crossing the hatchet and machete over her head, trapping Carly’s ankle against the blade, but Carly pulled, the heel of her thick boot catching the blade and pulling Samantha’s arms down and forward. Samantha slashed before the moment was past, but it was a gesture. The boot would hold up to the blade of the machete without a solid chop, and Carly’s skin would be more impermeable, yet. She dodged two fists, one, two, left right, then jumped over the leg that swept at her ankles. She landed with a defiant chop, but Carly rolled away.
“Not bad, doll,” Carly said, punching air with an open hand again. Samantha rolled left, hacking at the space where Carly’s elbow had been with the hatchet. “I’m going to put trenches in that pretty white skin of yours.”
Samantha caught her wrist with the crook of the hatchet and slashed at her shoulder with the machete, but Carly got clear, and Samantha only managed to put a slit in her shirt.
“You’re quick,” Carly said, spinning away to circle again.
“Faster than you,” Samantha said, tossing the hatchet again. Her shoulders were just beginning to get warm, and her hips and knees were still cold. She had speed to give, yet, but Carly wasn’t bad with bending time, either, and she had the demonic advantage of variable mass. Her inertia worked like a human, but she knew how to micro-glitch to improve her speed when she wanted. Samantha knew that Carly was toying with her, and that she was going to have to push herself to the limit to win without tipping her hand. Sam and Jason could still get out clean, without being associated with her, if she could beat Carly on technical skill alone. If she exposed herself now, it was only a matter of time before one or both of them got killed as collateral. The twisted, distracting part of her brain reminded her that that may have already happened, and she slashed at Carly again.
Control. The most important part of the fight was the control. Carly glitched behind her, grabbing her by the neck, and Samantha swung the hatchet into the space where her back had been, rounding the motion out when Carly glitched away again.
“I don’t know whether to kill you or sleep with you,” Carly called from where she reappeared next to a post.
“I think we’d end up with the same result, either way,” Samantha said. Carly glitched back over, kicking Samantha in the lower back. She took the hit, letting the force spread through her as she flew forward, rolling over her shoulder and landing with her feet crossed. As she rolled to her feet and took the last step back to recover her center of mass, she was facing Carly again. Carly grinned again, circling.
“Sam made you out to be softer,” Carly said.
“I told you he was dull,” Samantha answered.
“Jason, you say?” Carly asked. Samantha nodded.
“Best there is,” Samantha said. Carly looked over at him again, then sprang at Samantha again.
<><><>
“Hellside, you’d have to pay good money for a show like this,” Brandt said, standing next to a pillar.
“Spose this counts as covering the rest of them?” Jason asked.
“Probably not,” Sam answered.
“You two clearly aren’t enjoying this like you should be,” Brant said, looking back at Sam. He pursed his lips. “You don’t look so good.”
<><><>
Samantha made skin-to-metal contact once with the back of Carly’s wrist, but she was at her natural limit for speed and strength and Carly was still speeding up. She was going to get to the point very soon where she was simply too heavy to get in front of Carly’s attacks, and she was going to start getting broken. She took a breath, just to feel the harness strapped over her shoulders and around her waist, and smiled, striking Carly’s fist across with the hatchet and stabbing with the machete. Carly was unprepared for the stab, rolling across to avoid the slash, and Samantha plunged the weapon deep between Carly’s ribs. She shrieked, a raw, grating, high-pitched sound, and vanished, taking the machete with her.
“And I thought we were going to be friends,” Carly called from upstairs.
“Aren’t we?” Samantha called back, swiping the air with her hatchet and charging up the stairs. She muttered a few words to herself, feeling the bloom of power as she reached the second floor. Carly had pulled the machete out of her chest and flung it away, arms out now as Samantha came up the stairs.
“No, down here, where I can see you,” Brandt called. Carly smiled, crouching. Up here, the ambient light was less diffuse. Only a few bright sunbeams came in through the holes in the roof, but Samantha could see that the floor was mostly rotted through. She hit a beam of light by accident, and lost her night vision for a moment, and Carly pounced.
Samantha blocked one kick with the hatchet, but the flat of Carly’s hand came out of nowhere, hitting her cheekbone solidly. She let her head snap back to avoid breaking the bone, but even that was a near thing. She stumbled back, switching the hatchet from right to left hand and rolled sideways to avoid the next kick. The floor creaked beneath her ominously.
“Sam, Sam, Sam,” Carly said. “You’re fighting this too hard. I’m going to win. Just relax and let it happen.”
“I don’t like being on bottom,” Samantha said. Carly cackled.
“Where I can see you,” Brandt called again. “I’m getting bored.”
“We really should be friends. What fun we could have,” Carly said. Samantha rolled again and got the corner of the hatchet blade dug into the back of Carly’s knee and jerked hard. Carly lost her balance and, in the moment of lost control, fell forward onto Samantha and crashed both of them through the floor. Samantha bent time hard, pulling Carly underneath her and landing on her feet on Carly’s chest. Bones snapped. In that moment, she didn’t know whose. She took the force through her thighs and sat hard, rolling to get clear of Carly. Carly staggered to her feet and Samantha found her hands empty. She lowered her head, pulling out the words she had decided on earlier, and pulled the knife out of the sheath on her back.
The blade was unique, as far as she knew. The front edge was curved, the shape of a Saracen sword, scaled down, but the back edge had a crescent edge that stood away from the main blade, forming two Vs against the main blade that lead away to two sharp points, top and bottom. She pulled it out underhanded and slashed Carly’s face with the bottom point as the woman stumbled backwards, then, finishing the upward swing and returning in a figure eight, turned her hand over to slam the blade home, upward through Carly’s chin. The point penetrated the crown of her skull, puncturing through the bone to leave several inches of blade exposed. Sam, somewhere to her distant right, howled. Samantha let Carly drop absently, preoccupied with figuring out what had happened to Sam.
She reacted to the whistling before she heard it, bending time and turning to see the knife whipping, end over end, toward her from out of the darkness behind a column. She leaned back and reached up, like plucking a snowflake, and grabbed the handle, spinning over the ball of her foot and flinging the knife back where it came from. The stunned demon didn’t react fast enough, and the dagger buried to the hilt in his eye. He ashed. She pulled the stiletto clear of her boot and threw it, part of the same co
ntinuing motion, into the darkness of another column where she had seen a shadow move. A hand reached out and caught it, tossing it aside as the demon emerged and ran toward her. She stood, finding the steel knuckles inside her right arm and fitting them to her left hand, when her body caught up with her. She was standing on a bone that was sliding along itself, in two pieces.
Her knee gave and she nearly fell, only years of balance practice saving her as her foot now refused to touch the ground. She stood her ground as the demon got close, but his hand was completely ashed, and his arm was rapidly disintegrating. She swung at him, but got nothing but ash. She turned to face Brandt, crouching down to a knee. He blinked, looked around the warehouse, then glitched out.
<><><>
Samantha crawled back over to where Carly lay, her body tremoring slightly as it tried to die. Samantha heard Sam and Jason land on the ground as Brandt’s grip on them vanished, then their footsteps as they ran over to her. She looked up as Sam came to check on her.
“Don’t touch me,” she said, more sharply than she had intended to. “Go find my machete. It’s upstairs.”
He stumbled one step back, then nodded and started for the stairs.
“Careful,” she called after him. “There are holes up there.”
“Why didn’t she ash?” Jason asked, looking down at Carly’s body.
“She’s going to. Go get my backpack. It’s over behind that column.” She pointed. “Go.”
He left and returned quickly, and Samantha urgently pulled things out of the backpack to get to the empty vials at the bottom. She pulled two of them, filling one of them very carefully with Carly’s blood, then she took the handle of her knife and pulled it out. Carly ashed.
“What the hell?” Jason asked, as Samantha filled the second vial with ash, then returned the pair to her backpack. Sam returned with her machete, and Samantha pointed for Jason to bring her the hatchet.
“Are you okay?” Sam asked.
“Broke my tibia,” she said. “Left leg.”
She carefully rolled up her pants leg to look, then looked away. She hadn’t wanted to know that. The bone was clearly wrong, the point of the break tensioning the skin under a spreading red pool of blood inside her skin. Jason returned with her hatchet and her stiletto, and she put them away, motioning for Sam to keep the machete for now. He tried to help her, but she barked at him.
