Biting the Bullet

by Jennifer Rardin

  Vayl had circled behind him during our conversation. I stepped forward, nodding to him as if giving him his kudos. Dave looked over his shoulder. Started to congratulate Vayl. But he’d already taken his cue and raised his powers, sending ice into David’s veins as he grabbed his arms. We weren’t sure how he’d be affected by Vayl’s abilities. If he was a Sensitive, like me, he’d be resistant. We had no idea how zedran reacted. But hopefully the cold would slow the bleeding. I know, I know. If Raoul brought him back it wouldn’t matter if he puddled all over the floor. Physically he’d be fine. But I didn’t want him waking up in a huge pool of his own blood. One less nightmare. At this point, that was all I could give him.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Dave demanded, his eyes going wide. Not scared. Not yet.

  “You’re the mole, Dave.”

  “What? Are you out of your mind?”

  “The Wizard’s man, the one who attacked you during questioning? He killed you and inserted a control device in your neck called an ohm.” I hated this next part. But the Wizard was listening, so I continued.

  “I’m sorry. You set me up. Forced me to kill the wrong man tonight. So now I have to kill you.”

  Now the fear. I faced it, understanding it might be the last expression I ever saw in my brother’s eyes.

  “You’ve snapped! The Helsingers! Matt! Jessie! It’s all jumbled your brains. There’s no way I’m a traitor!

  No way!”

  “Goodbye, David. I love you.”

  Vayl moved his right arm, still clenched under Dave’s, higher, so his hand could control his face. He forced Dave to look up. I had the retriever in my left hand. With my right I made a quick incision with my dagger.

  Dave roared in protest and tried to throw his head backward. But Vayl had such a tight hold on him he could only flinch.

  I slipped the retriever into the opening I’d made near the base of his throat and kept my hand over it, staunching the bleeding, which slowed quickly to a trickle.

  “Is it in?” Cole asked a few seconds later.

  I dropped my hand. Nodded.

  Vayl let go of David’s head.

  “I’m not dead,” David whispered.

  I just looked at him, so full of regret I couldn’t speak. Never in my life had I wanted more to be a different person. One of those women who cringe at violence. Who are all about healing and mending, birth and rebirth.

  Suddenly Dave’s head jerked back. His eyes rolled. His mouth began to work at sucking in air he could no longer seem to access.

  “Let him go,” I said in a low voice.

  Vayl released Dave’s arms. His hands immediately went to the back of his neck, clawing at it until his fingernails were bloody. He went to his knees. I dropped to mine before him. I wanted to touch him, but I knew it would be of no comfort. I’d brought this horror down on him.

  But I stayed with him. Suffered with him as he fell onto his back and went into full-body spasms. Cole moved everything out of the way that might injure him. I knelt on his right. Vayl on his left. We watched helplessly as foam erupted from his lips.

  The spasms gave way to convulsions. Not quick, hard shakes, but long, tight moments where his entire back would bow and he would almost stand on his head. I counted one. Two. Three. And on the fourth the retriever appeared.

  When I didn’t immediately take it, Vayl nodded at me. You must finish what you started, his look told me.

  I reached out. Took the retriever between my fingers and gently pulled. It resisted one hand’s efforts, so I brought the other into play, pulling out Bergman and Cassandra’s invention along with the item it had attached itself to. A red plastic tube the length of a toothpick and as big around as my pinky. As soon as it exited Dave’s body he went absolutely still.

  I dropped my head and quickly spoke the words Raoul had taught me. Within seconds I felt myself lifting from my body. I heard Cole say, “How long until we know?”

  Vayl shook his head. Shrugged.

  A shimmer above Dave’s body let me know they wouldn’t have long to wait. He was rising. He hesitated when he saw me. “Jazzy?”

  “Go on,” I urged. “Raoul’s waiting for you.” I didn’t tell him I’d protect him. He never would have left then. But I did follow close behind, watching sharply for the Magistrate as Dave followed the rainbow-colored strand that led to Raoul. If my Spirit Guide and I were right, this would be the moment he’d pounce.

  Nothing happened.

  Dave made it safely to Raoul’s. I was just chastising myself for reading the signs as hieroglyphs when they were, in fact, Roman numerals, when I caught sight of the demons. Three of them, including the Magistrate, winging their way toward one of the cords that bound me to my loved ones. Not Dave’s at all. E.J.’s.

  “Raoul!” I yelled. “They’re after the baby!” But even as I spoke I knew he couldn’t help. He was occupied with Dave. Doing the deal. Or not. Which left this battle to me. I flew at the demons, not knowing how much damage I could actually cause in my noncorporeal state. Not caring. I had to do something!

  Feeling like a fighter jet, I screamed headfirst into the Magistrate. And right through him. He laughed, waved his hand carelessly. A wind came up out of nowhere, buffeting me backward. As I rolled and spun, trying desperately to regain my equilibrium, I could see the three of them advancing on E.J.’s cord. The largest of the demons, who had a bluish blotch across half his face that seemed to be growing its own fungi, reached out for the golden cable that connected her to me. His claws touched it, and jerked back as if burned. At his contact E.J.’s cord had flashed. Apparently the kid had some built-in defenses.

  “Idiot!” barked the Magistrate. “Why do you think I told you to bring the vine?”

  “Aha!” shouted the third demon, a pig-eared, dog-snouted hulk who, even here, smelt of rancid meat and feces. Reaching inside the breastplate of his brown spiked armor he pulled out a braided green rope, complete with black-edged leaves and even a couple of sickly yellow flowers. I’d just managed to halt my tumbling when the Magistrate snatched one end of the vine from the demon and began wrapping it around E.J.’s cord as the demon held the other end still.

  “No!” I cried as the vine instantly tightened, sending white thorns into its new support, making it tremble and visibly fade. I rushed back into the fray. The bad guys loved it. They laughed like maniacs as I sped toward them, thinking I’d had another brain fart and decided I liked being tumbled halfway across space. In reality I was pulling a move I’d watched Cam do at the poker table a couple of times the night before, making a small sacrifice now so I could see how they really meant to play their cards. I tried not to think of my niece, whimpering on the other end of a line that seemed to be strangling under the vine’s hold as I watched the demons prepare to whip up on me. Their gestures seemed random, so I dismissed signed magic. But they had to be pulling power from somewhere. I concentrated on the Magistrate. His psychic scent was the strongest, least pleasant, and most familiar. I let it draw my Sensitivity, what the reavers liked to call my Spirit Eye, into full focus.

  “Leave her alone, Magistrate!” I shouted.

  He glanced sideways, reached down as if to pluck a blade of grass out of the ground. But now that I was concentrating I could see he’d actually flicked a braid out of one of the shining black cords that bound him and his companions to their own world and snapped it toward me. It struck me square in the chest, numbing my entire untorso, spinning me backward yet again.

  I wasn’t sure why I hadn’t been able to see their cords before. But I thought it had something to do with Raoul saying I needed training if I wanted to fight effectively in this dimension, combined with what I knew about Vayl’s ability to camouflage. The Magistrate knew how to disguise his cords so that I wouldn’t see them unless I was looking for them. Which made them highly significant. Problem was, I had no idea how to cut them and very little time to do so. The vine they’d brought was tightening like a boa constrictor. More flowers had begun t
o bloom. Any minute now I expected E.J.’s cord to go as limp as a drowning victim. The only thing I could think of was to use my cords the way they had theirs.

  I flew to Albert’s cord, misjudged my speed, and stopped against it so suddenly that it twanged dissonantly. The Magistrate’s buddies covered their ears.

  “Watch your aim, there, nimrod!” barked the larger one. When his hands came away I saw his earlobes were bloody.

  “Don’t you like that?” I asked. I grabbed the cord and whacked it, making a harsh noise that caused the smaller demon to wince and stick his stubby fingers in his greenish brown ears. A drop of blood escaped his nose.

  The Magistrate lashed at me with his newfound weapon. It snaked out to sting me, so much like his whip I wondered if that was why he carried one in the first place. At the last moment I dodged, shoving Albert’s cord into the gap I’d just vacated. The Magistrate’s cord wound around it and immediately began to sizzle. I took a second to watch the shock work its way back up the line, enjoy the clench of the Magistrate’s teeth as his body began to twitch. He jerked on his weapon, trying to free it as I raced to Vayl’s cord.

  I hit it hard, bouncing off and then smacking into it again as the Magistrate’s companions howled in protest.

  “Stop!” they screamed as blood spurted out of every orifice. They were prone now. Writhing in pain. The vine looked none too healthy either.

  Holy crap, I think this might just do the trick!

  I ran the circuit of the golden cords that connected me to those I cared for. Evie. Cassandra. Bergman. Cole. Albert. Vayl. Dave’s was still missing. But E.J.’s looked brighter every time I slammed into a line, bringing from it a razor-sharp tune that cut into the demons and their cords like broken glass. When the first cable gave, it split with an unearthly scream, as if it were a living thing and not just a conduit. The largest demon disintegrated. His buddy wasn’t far behind. As I slammed into Cole’s cord, his exploded, along with his unbody.

  Yeah, baby! I felt amazing. Elated. Damn near invincible. Nobody could stop me now that I’d figured out the key to destroying these evil sons of bitches.

  I should’ve known better.

  As I moved to strum the Magistrate’s death song he broke free. The speed at which he came after me made my movements look like somebody upstairs had hit their remote and consigned me to slow motion for the remainder of the battle.

  He’d reached up for another section of his braid while he was struggling. Now he held two whiplike weapons. He snapped one around my waist, pinning me to my current position just three feet shy of E.J.’s shining cord. The other he snaked around my neck. Immediately my vision began to dim, as if he were cutting off blood supply. Which he wasn’t. So what the hell?

  Exactly, said Granny May as she wound up her bridge game and began packing the snacks. Name one other place that made you feel this kind of horror. This awful sense of futility. So what’s your point? I asked her dully.

  She snatched a popcorn kernel out of the bamboo bowl she held and poked it at me impatiently. What? Have you forgotten what we talked about all those Sunday afternoons? After church. After lunch. During our long, ambling walks around her farm. We’d talked about everything. But those were usually our get-serious times. When we kids could tell her anything that was on our minds and expect a nugget or two of wisdom in return. Often, however, due to how we’d spent our mornings, our talks had turned to the nature of good and evil, everything that fell between, and how to tell where you stood at any given moment.

  “Hell’s a real place,” she’d informed us. “Don’t you let anyone tell you different. And it’s not just a destination. It’s one of those powerful, sneaky places that will move in next door, wait until you’re looking in the other direction, then reach out and grab you if it can.”

  “How do you fight something like that?” I’d asked.

  Granny May had pursed her lips and looked at me sideways, her way of applauding me for asking the question she’d hoped for. “Purity of motive,” she’d responded. “Innocence of spirit.”

  Why, you sly old witch, I thought as the Magistrate loomed over me, his finely sculpted face set in a triumphant smile as he watched me weaken, you’ve fought demons before. Later, when I had time, I’d delve into Granny’s past. Right now, I’d just take her advice.

  I closed my eyes. And concentrated on the purest, most innocent person I knew. I could feel her. The same way I often felt Vayl through Cirilai and through my senses. E.J. hung out there at the edge of my psyche like a new star. So fine and bright I could feel the beauty of her being burning away my own darkness.

  The Magistrate jumped and squawked. I opened my eyes. His coils had retreated. He’d reared back, rubbing his hands as if they’d been singed.

  I reached out. Wrapped my own hands around E.J.’s cord.

  As soon as I touched it, the last, wilted vestiges of vine dropped away. I strummed it. Made the music uniquely suited to my niece. It filled the air, loud as a symphony, joyous as a Christmas carol.

  “No!” screamed the Magistrate, blocking both of his bleeding ears with his hands. “STOP!”

  I played on until the echoes of that fresh, uncorrupted song bounced off all the other cords around us, pulling out harmonies that made me weep with joy. Not so the Magistrate. He clutched at his black, glistening line. Tried to ride it back to its source. But it began to shred. Then he began to crack, like one of Evie’s porcelain dolls after a tumble off the shelf. His model’s body developed long fissures, as if everything inside it had shifted. His perfect face split. Skull and teeth, muscle and blood, replaced smooth red skin. But I continued to play until the Magistrate’s entire unbody shivered into pieces and the cord that bound him finally melted into tiny black globs of horror that fell like black rain back to where they’d begun.

  I let my hands drop. God, I was so tired. And my cord was starting to fade. A sure sign my body was weakening. But was it smart to return before I’d talked to Raoul? How vulnerable would that leave E.J.? On the other hand, Dave might need me back at the house. As I debated, I felt myself suddenly pushed —

  hard — back into physical.

  I felt my back bow as the pain of rejoining hit. When I finally regained my breath I only had enough to say, “What the . . . ”

  Vayl leaned over me. “Is everything all right?”

  I shook my head, trying to clear it. Raoul? What’s the word? No answer.

  Shit!

  “Cam!” I yelled. Natchez came running into the kitchen, took one look at me kneeling by David, who still wasn’t breathing, and slapped a tear from his cheek. “Where’s Cam?” I demanded.

  “Working on Grace.”

  “Get him! Now!”

  Natch was back in thirty seconds with the entire team in tow.

  “CPR!” I snapped. “Now!”

  Without a word Cam went to his knees and started chest compressions.

  “I thought you said Raoul —” Cole began.

  “I’m not leaving it up to him,” I growled. I bent down to give Dave some air. The door flew open again and Cassandra ran into the room. “Jasmine, I can See again!” she cried. She looked like she’d prefer to remain in Curtainland.

  I nodded, saving my breath for Dave.

  “You have to leave!” Cassandra said, her voice shaking with barely checked emotion.

  “What?”

  “A vision. Terrible destruction. Mass murders. Black smoke from fire bombings. Thousands of innocents dead in the rubble. The Wizard will not be stopped unless you go for him now!”

  I looked down at my brother, tears blinding me as I struggled to my feet. Jet took my place as Vayl led me out of the kitchen, into the guys’ room, where Cassandra had secreted the items she needed for her spell.

  She’d explained earlier that it was based on my already heightened abilities to track others. So far the only way I could follow a trail was to find its source first. This spell would not only show me the source, it would impress the Wizard’
s psychic scent on my brain so I could follow it if he moved to another location before we arrived.

  Cassandra held out her hand for the ohm, which I was only too glad to get rid of. She took one of Bergman’s small hammers, broke open the plastic casing, and pulled from the wreckage a small white bone.

  “What is that?” I asked, not even recognizing my own voice. I sounded like a robot. Yeah, somewhere along the line I’d switched to full automatic. There’d be hell to pay when I took back the reins. But until then I could at least do my job.

  Cassandra said, “When you locate the Wizard, I believe you will notice he is missing part of a finger.”

  I nodded. That would be the least of his worries when I found him.

  Cole came in.

  “Anything yet?” I asked him.

  He shook his head.

  Goddammit, Raoul, do something!

  I turned my attention, such as it was, back to Cassandra. She’d laid the finger bone on the floor in the center of a circle of yellow powder. “Now, Jaz,” she said tightly. “Lean your head over the circle.”

  I did as I was told, not much caring what came next. If she’d set the powder on fire and, by proximity, my hair, I wouldn’t have muttered a word of protest. Instead she sprinkled a sparkly white substance, like sugar only with bigger crystals, on top of the powder. At the same time she whispered a series of funky words. “Ayada. Torenia. Terell avatam latem.”

  The circle ignited into a sort of mini electric storm, with my head as the locus. Every time I breathed in or swallowed I tasted iron. My eyes felt gritty, and no matter how often I blinked, it seemed like an eyelash the size of a giant redwood was caught inside my contact lenses. My head began to throb, but I welcomed the pain. I deserved no less for what I’d done to my brother. No matter that he’d never have wanted his current existence. He was now lying dead on the kitchen floor because of me. The storm ended suddenly, leaving me on all fours, panting like a dehydrated hound dog. But I had it. The scent of the Wizard. My lips drew back at its stench. A mix of bloated corpse, stagnant water, and really cheap aftershave. And I’d thought vampires were bad.