Onyx whispered in awe, “Grace, I think you killed him.”
“I just wanted to free the miko’s soul, not … not…”
The miko’s soul was an image of her as she’d been in life, beautiful and golden. She wafted to the downed demon and did a good impression of a hissy fit. She cursed in Japanese, all her refined manners lost along with her life. Her stomping feet went in and out of him, doing no damage whatsoever.
However, on its own, the black fire around his body shrank to almost nothing. I didn’t think this a good sign.
My eyes burned with unshed tears. First the ninja in the shrine, now Wocky—I’ve killed twice in one day. So very easily. I am a monster.
Speaking of which, black winds howled in from nowhere, swirling up out of the ground, falling out of the sky. The ebon cloud-streaks had black fire eyes, demon eyes. The air curdled with a radiance of malevolence. The dark blurs formed themselves into bestial shapes with shadow wings that fluttered furiously. These were a special class of demon, Reavers, the dark harvesters. They screeched hideously, scanning for prey, for souls unworthy of the Light.
They closed in on the miko. Razor sharp talons wrenched her flailing soul into the air. Pale blue light bled from the wounded soul. Her shrill screams knifed into my head. I covered my ears and closed my eyes. I’d seen this a couple times before, but it never got easier. The pity washing through me ate like acid. It was useless.
Too late. Too late for whatever other paths you should have taken to avoid this. A single tear squeezed out of my left eye, tracking down my face, as the Reaver shrieked.
I opened my eyes, knowing what I would see—residual energy wobbling in the air like soapy bubbles. They fused, taking on human shape. The miko’s newborn ghost looked down at the demon, then around at the rest of us. A haze of confusion blanked her face. I wondered if she had the slightest memory of her true soul being dragged off to hell.
While there was nothing I could do for the miko, maybe it wasn’t too late for the demon. I shouldn’t have cared. I should have wanted the foul thing safely destroyed and out of my life. It was silly; if someone else had killed him, I’d have danced on his grave, yet I felt compelled to try to save him.
I don’t like being a monster.
I threw myself over to the split heart, scooping up the pieces. I matched them together, holding them in place. Nothing. What was I expecting? That they’d magically meld and start beating at once. This was no fairy tale.
Onyx dropped next to me, knees to the ground, peering closely at what I was attempting. “Grace, is that really what you want to do?”
“No, but that’s beside the point. Damn, this is not working.”
I stared at him, imploring with my eyes.
“I haven’t a clue how to help you,” he said.
“The tears from the miko’s body! You have them?”
“Sure.” He held his cupped palm out. The red crystal tears seeped up from his skin, surrendered by his inner darkness.
I pressed the demon heart to the front of my chocolate brown hoodie. And used my free hand to snatch up the tears. My aura was burning back to its normal strength. I hoped my regular kitsune flame was up to the job. I drew it through my body, into my hand, leaving enough energy in my feet so I would bury myself alive, yet again. My fingers curled into a fist, the demon tears clenched tight.
Cassie dropped on my other side, opposite to Onyx. She asked, “Grace what are you doing?”
“I don’t think I know, but I’ve enough blood on me today. This has got to work.”
Cassie reached out and put her hand over mine. Her aura dimmed around her body, but flared where we touched. I felt the hardness of the tears soften and flow. Cassie broke contact as I pulled in my fist, holding it over the heart. Red blood dripped from the bottom of my fist onto the heart. I rolled the heart as best as I could, and spread the blood along the cut. As the last of the blood dripped from me, I used my bloody palm to brush the stuff in an even coat all around the heart.
I was done, but the heart still wasn’t beating.
Onyx reached out. His human hand—but not the rest of him—turned to shadow. His splayed finger gripped the heart, and where he touched, the blood hardened to a crystal bandage. Frost formed on the thing as all heat drained away.
“That’s supposed to help?” I asked.
He shrugged, solemn, watchful.
Thud-da-thud. Thudda. The heart beat fast, making up for lost time. I held my breath, watching, listening. The beat steadied and slowed. I waited a long time in between until I was sure we’d succeeded. Onyx grabbed my arm and waist and pulled me to my feet. I turned to where Wocky lay.
No one tried to stop me as I approached him. Onyx stopped, letting me go the last few steps on my own; his way of saying it was my show from here on out. I knelt by Wocky and leaned over his back, my free hand on his left shoulder. His head lay beside my knees, face pressed into the ground. Pulling the tide of my aura energy up my arm, my hand went incorporeal, yet the heart stayed with me. I shoved it into his back, between shoulder blades. My hand sank halfway up the forearm.
Back where it was meant to be, the heart lurched from my grip like a creature that didn’t want to be caught. Spooked, I jerked my hand back and shoved myself back from the demon. There was no telling what kind of mood he might wake in. Onyx caught and held me from behind, his arms comforting. My aura’s orange flame washed down to my finger tips once more.
“C’mon, Wocky,” I called. “Wake up. You going to let some fox girl get the best of you? What’s wrong? Did those Reavers take your soul too?”
His face turned into view. Lids lifted with agonizing slowness. He snorted and spat out a mouthful of winter-pale grass.
The deer-scare’s bamboo trough punctuated the moment with a wooden thoonk!
Wocky’s dead, charcoal eyes ignited with a pale red fire. His wings twitched. He tried to lift himself off the ground, but slumped mid-attempt. “Gonna so kick your … ass. Just need a … few minutes. Don’t you go … anywhere.”
I wasn’t impressed with his way of saying thanks for saving my life. Demons are such ingrates.
It was over. I could relax. We’d stopped the miko. We’d stopped Wocky. The world was safe. Until next time. And Onyx was feeling me up, having me turned so no one else could see. I was pissed.
I stomped on his foot and planted an elbow in his guts. I felt surprise; he let me hit him instead of going all untouchable shadow on me.
“Knew that was coming.” Groaning, he leaned against me, his head on my shoulder. “Worth it.”
I felt flattered. No one had ever wanted to feel me up before.
I turned to face him. It was time to tell Onyx we had nothing in common, that he should hit the road and not look back. I opened my mouth and—
—screamed.
Khorde surrendered his human form and an obsidian wall of darkness soared thousands of feet into the air, the way a tsunami at sea is tiny, until hitting land and surging to monstrous proportions. I had a split moment of shock before being swallowed once more by him. But this time, I wasn’t alone. A shadow inside my father’s shadow, Onyx was invisible, but I felt him flowing over my skin, his voice in my ear, “It’s all right, Grace. I’m here.”
I ignored him, yelling at Khorde, “Hey, Bozo, what’s the big idea?”
Sorry, but this is for your own good. You’ll like it in my world. Eventually.
“Cassie’s going to kick your sorry butt.”
She’ll have to catch me first.
There was a blast of vibration that sickened my stomach, and a gravelly low sound that was almost too low for my kitsune hearing to pick up. My orange aura sifted to gold, then edged toward a tarnished copper green with black flecks. “What the hell?”
Onyx’s voice murmured soothingly, “A shadow slide. We’re not in your reality any longer. The transition for you solids is usually a lot more intense, sometimes painfully so, but Khorde is insulating you from the transition shock.�
�
Don’t bother to thank me, Khorde muttered absently.
I huffed, pressing a hand against my queasy stomach. “For kidnapping me? As if.”
THIRTY-EIGHT
CARTON NOIR: black card. Used to indicate the most serious offences in fencing. The offender is usually expelled from the event.
Adrift in agitated darkness, glowing dull green, my stomach trying out new positions inside me, I felt like I was riding the unbalanced ghost of a washing machine down the slavering maw of hell. It didn’t help that Onyx hugged me like an overcoat one size too small, giving me fluttery little caresses that roamed way too freely.
“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stop,” I warned.
The skin along my shoulder blades felt kneaded, the underlying muscles turning twitchy. A series of little licks in, uh, interesting places had me shaking my shoulders, clenching my back teeth. I flicked my tail in irritation and bared my fangs in silent threat.
“Sorry,” Onyx said, “I have less restraint in this form. I really can’t help myself. It’s a primal instinct, honest.”
“You’re going to be primordially dead in another two seconds,” My eyes widened in delayed realization. Tail? Fangs? What the hell? I yelled at Khorde. “What are you doing to me?”
“Oh, you like it after all?” Onyx said.
“Not you, idiot.” I raised my voice, “Khorde, why am I going fox here?”
Probably stress. You’ve had a hard day. When we get back to the palace, I’ll have someone fetch you some warm milk. That’s the human thing to do, right?
“Don’t do me any favors,” I advised. “Hey, how long is this trip supposed to last?”
I’m bending realities as fast as I can, Khorde said. If I didn’t have to keep you in one piece, this would go a lot faster.
My back felt tender, like something weird was going on, but I couldn’t say what. I did my best to ignore the sensation. “If it’s a problem, let me out anywhere. I’ll be all right.”
Onyx said, “Uh, Grace, you wouldn’t be, actually. Some of the realms out there are proscribed for good reason. Others are challenging even for shadow men.”
“Proscribed?”
“So dangerous that we’ve phased their ghost realms out of sync so nothing gets in or out. The reality your fu dogs come from is such a place. Why do you think Tukka’s protected you all these years? Once your power developed sufficiently, he would have asked you soon to lead his pack home and help them run the blockade.”
“You won’t let the fu dogs go home? That’s kind of mean.”
“Fu dogs can hold their own with dragons and demons,” Onyx said. “They can even escape into dreams if they have to. Have you ever wondered what could be so tough it would make a fu dog run?”
I shook my head. “I don’t think I want to know.”
We make sure no one else has to find out the hard way, Khorde said. Policing the worlds of solids is a thankless task, but necessary.
“Grace,” Onyx paused, making sure of my attention.
“Yeah?” My stomach was settling. Maybe all my years of crossing over to the ghost realm were paying off.
“Did Cassie ever tell you that her reality—the kitsune world—is also proscribed?”
“Must have slipped her mind.” Damn, this trip is turning out to be highly educational.
Not just proscribed, Khorde said. Under threat of death. That’s all that keeps the kitsune from roaming too freely; the knowledge that their world is a hostage. Despite the proscription, they somehow manage to slip out at will. Cassie never would tell me how.
I knew how. Soon after I’d discovered she was my biological mother, she’d taken me back to the home world on a bend through time and space. Khorde knew about kitsune moving from world to world where ghost realms touched. He didn’t seem to know about our ability to bend time, a power I’d just discovered I could use. He must have missed that while occasionally spying on me through Taliesina’s eyes.
I was tempted to time bend out of here. What stopped me was the thought that my own reality was so far away by now, I could miss hitting it and land up to my neck in something even worse. I’m reckless, not stupid.
I also wondered what would happen if I crossed over inside Khorde. Would I still be inside him, or would that drop me in whatever reality we were currently cruising past? That, too, wasn’t worth the risk of finding out.
I said, “If kitsune are so slippery, how do you expect to keep me from escaping first chance I get?” Damn, my back’s itchy again. It’s just like the time I was at the slayers school and—oh, no! Not again.
Khorde said, You are compassionate. You care about others. You fight for them, more than yourself. You wouldn’t even let a demon die.
“So who are you holding hostage against me?” When that black mountain of darkness hit, Cassie was with me, but the way Khorde had talked, I didn’t think he had her. Who did that leave? “Wocky?”
Onyx’s voice grew soft, oddly fragile, “It’s me, Grace. If you escape, he’ll pull me into him all the way. I won’t be a person anymore. I’ll be … him.”
“What!”
Onyx went on, “The real reason I was sent to you was to win your heart so Khorde would have a means of controlling you. I was happy to go along with him, at first. But I really did fall in love with you.”
Love—the word echoed into places deep inside me, bringing a funny feeling I couldn’t quite grasp.
“Your happiness became more important to me than my survival.” Onyx tightened on me even more, as if wanting to sink into my flesh and literally be part of me. “That’s why I attacked you in the laundry. I was trying to make you hate me. Then I couldn’t be used against you. Even when I knew I ought to run from you, for your sake, I couldn’t do it. I wasn’t that strong.”
I snarled at Khorde. “You are such a control freak. I see now why Cassie couldn’t live with you. And you claim to have honor!”
Grace…
“Zip it! I’m not through.” Yeah, he’s the mad dictator of a whole dark dimension, but I was too wound up to hold back. “You need a wake-up call, dude. People got rights. Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. It’s in the Constitution, right next to the right to walk softly and carry a big stick, like the one stuck up your—”
“Grace, stop,” Onyx yelled. “He won’t hurt you, but he’ll take it out on me.”
“Yeah, there’s honor for you. Well, go ahead. Onyx loves me. I’m sure he’d be more than happy to die so I can be free. Right, Onyx.”
“Well, in theory…”
“What?” I screeched the word the way a demon might. “So you just like me, but it’s not true love.”
Onyx flinched from me, winding off my body like a mummy’s linen. “Grace, be reasonable.”
“Why? No one else is?” I stopped emphatically waving my hands about because I noticed they were more paws now than anything else, tipped with sharp claws. The sheathing of flame I wore deepened to a dusky purple with flickers of pink. “What the hell is wrong with my aura? And my friggin’ butt?” I suddenly had two more fox tails, three in all, crowding out of the waistband of my stretchy blue jean leggings. Damn, the pants are tight! This just gets better and better.
We’re there, Khorde said.
The agitating vibration snapped off. My aura pulsed, edging into pink, creeping toward red. The surrounding darkness collapsed, like a dying star becoming a black hole. Only the hole was a human shaped shadow. Khorde. Voices washed over us, low and hushed, stirring with hard currents of surprise. Off balance, I slow-motion dropped with the grace of a tossed brick on the moon. I caught the black and silver tiled floor with my hands. Gently sprawling, I felt the chessboard tiles sucking heat from my body. The itching in my back was unbearable. I so wanted a tree to grind my back against.
Relief came as my hoodie and leather vest shredded in back. Once before, I’d felt this weird growth, only to have moth wings sprout due to my DNA getting contaminated by a certain mo
thman I’d killed in the middle of a sexual assault. I pushed up to a kneeling posture and craned my neck to look over my shoulder.
Instead of the fragile looking membrane of moth wings, bat wings protruded. They were ribbed and black, with ragged edges and fire-seared holes in places. Demon wings. Horror clenched my heart. Wocky. We hadn’t left him behind. In the first moment of blackout, he’d dissolved to black flame coils of plasma, burying himself inside me.
The weird physical sensations—they weren’t all from Onyx. This also explained the weird color shifts of my aura. The demon’s energies had interfered with my own, generating the polychromatic side-effect.
Onyx and Khorde stood on a dais, a large throne behind them, rough-hewn from volcanic glass. They seemed to share my stunned disbelief, faces frozen into masks. The voices I’d heard soared to the cathedral ceiling high above where obsidian chandeliers were lit with bright bulbs.
Turning my head, I saw we had an audience that filled a room the size of a football field. Men wore something similar to tuxedoes, but no ties or cummerbunds. And everyone had a sword, if not two, even the women. Their clothes were made of fine silks and metallic thread brocades, but lacked skirts, having pants instead, many with leather patches on knees, or striping the sides.
I’d heard of fashion forward, but this was ridiculous.
Wait a second. Why do I care? I got a freaking demon in me.
Black flaming mist swooshed out of me into a column. My wings fluttered and rose, though I stayed in place. The wings and mist merged. The dark plasma congealed into Wocky. He’d emerged from hiding. I wanted to run. I dared not. That would draw a response from him that I might not survive. After all, I was the one who’d gotten his heart sliced in half, almost killing a being that wasn’t supposed to be able to die.
Wocky said, “I’m a bad penny, Grace. I keep coming back. Sooner or later, I always win.” His voice went deep and grim, “And I always pay my debts.”
Onyx leaped off the dais. In the air, he created a sword made of shadow. It jutted from his fist, aimed at Wocky. “Get away from her,” Onyx shouted.
Tears and Shadow (kitsune series) Page 28
