by SM Reine
“What’s wrong, Dree?”
I collapsed into her, and she wrapped her arms around my shoulders. Somewhere between my sobs, I said, “I don’t remember.”
That snapped PJ back to herself. “What the fuck, Dree? That’s one holy fuck of a hangover if you don't remember a back mural!”
I withdrew and rubbed my face dry. “Really, PJ. I don’t remember how I got it.”
I recounted my morning to her. She smiled faintly at my description of running back home naked, but at the end, she was all business.
“We need to get you checked out. Do a rape kit or something. Maybe they slipped you a roofie.”
“You really think so?”
“Fuck yeah I do. Whatever they knocked you out with must have been pretty damn strong to take your memory and keep you from punching their lights out. I know how much you hate needles.”
She was already up and milling around the apartment looking for her keys.
“PJ, I—I’d rather just move on, you know? So I had a bad bender of a weekend and woke up in the woods. I don’t feel like I was raped or anything. I’m fine. Not a bruise.”
Saying that dumped a whole new set of awkward questions into my head. Why didn’t I have any bruises, or scratches, at least? I’d slogged through a forest naked and broken into my apartment, for God’s sake. It’s a wonder I didn’t look like a prize fighter.
“Bullshit, you’re coming, and I’ll have them strap you down if necessary. We’re getting to the bottom of this.”
She didn’t wait to hear my answer; she snagged my arm and dragged me bodily all the way to the nearest emergency clinic.
An hour later, I sat awkwardly in a gown on the exam table. The butcher paper crinkled under my bare ass. I would have been mortified if I weren’t convinced somewhere in my head that this was a bad dream, and I’d wake up in my own bed with one motherfucker of a hangover and a back as pale and unmarked as the day I was born.
The doctor came in and PJ laid into him. “About fucking time you sauntered in!”
I shushed her with a wave, and she sat down, but she continued to glare at him.
The doctor seemed more interested in my clipboard than me.
“All right, Miss-“
“Dree. Call me Dree.”
“Okay, Dree. In a minute, I'll have a nurse come in and examine you. We need to document everything, you understand?”
“I do.” I turned to PJ. “I'll be okay. Could you wait outside?”
She gave the doctor an appraising look that told him she found him wanting, and then she left. The doctor sat on a stool and finally looked me in the eyes.
“How far we go is completely up to you. We can treat you for injuries and not do a kit. I would recommend you get an STD panel, but anything more is entirely your choice.”
I seriously considered telling him I just wanted to go home. Maybe take a sleeping pill or something. I’d had a long day.
But what if PJ was right? What if they did rape me?
“No,” I sighed, “it’s probably best to go ahead and do it.”
“Okay. I’ll come back when it’s done and check on you.”
I nodded. He left and was replaced by a short Hispanic woman in scrubs She carried a tackle box in one hand, and a small digital camera in the other.
There really wasn’t anything to document. Aside from the ink, there wasn’t a mark on me. I told her about the woods and my trip back to the apartment, but I left out the part about the tattoo.
She seemed disappointed when I told her I’d showered twice since then, but she tried to get something from my fingernails and hair anyway. She probed a few other less pleasant areas as well.
She treated me like a victim. I guess, in her eyes, I was.
“Okay, Dree, we need to get some blood now to do a few tests on it. Is that all right?”
My heart rate immediately sped up. “I’m—a little jumpy around needles. You might want to restrain me before you poke.”
She smiled indulgently. “No problem. Lie back for me.”
As I lay on the table, she fiddled with something on the side. An extension with a Velcro strap pulled out, and she secured my arm on it.
“Ready?” she asked.
“Is there one on the other side?” I asked. “I’ve decked people before. Nothing personal, understand. I can’t really control it.”
She paused, gave it some thought, and ended up securing my other arm on another extension. I lay there like a crucifixion victim and stared at the ceiling.
“How strong are those straps?”
She laughed a little. “I’ve seen big, burly men kick and scream and not get out. You’re probably fine.”
“Okay.” I took a deep breath and looked away.
She dabbed my arm with disinfectant, and I shut my eyes. I tried to think of anything other than sharp, pointy things going into my flesh. I failed miserably.
My vision went bright white the moment she stuck the needle in. When the white faded, I was on the floor in PJ’s lap. My arm was sore, and my gown was covered with blood.
“Wha—?”
“Jesus, Dree. You’re a hell of a fighter with those needles. I would have come sooner, but I thought someone had shot a dog. ”
I saw the nurse nearby, unconscious and bleeding from her temple. Doctors and nurses rushed around the cramped exam room. I felt an immediate and jarring sense of responsibility and said a little too loudly, “I’m sorry! I told her I don’t like needles.”
The rest of what I said was lost in sobs against PJ’s chest. It was only then that I realized I wasn’t moving right.
“Why can’t I move my arms?” I asked.
I heard a loud rip, followed by two heavy metallic thumps, and my arms were free again.
Jesus, I’d ripped the extensions right off the chair! How did that happen?
I pulled my arms in close to my chest, and PJ ran her hands through my hair. She rocked me like a child.
“Shh…it’s gonna be fine, Dree. Just take some deep breaths.”
PJ eventually coaxed me into the next exam room and I was coherent enough to let them sedate me before they took blood. It wasn’t what I’d call a unanimous decision.
“It’s necessary, David,” one doctor said. “Just do it.”
“She’s barely a hundred pounds! Too much could kill her,” the other protested.
They probably thought they were being discreet, talking a good hundred feet from my room. I heard them just fine. It didn’t seem strange at the time.
Finally, they came back. I didn’t have time to react to the first prick before my world went black.
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Glossary
aspis: Greek for “shield.” A witch bound to the service of a kopis as his protector.
centuria: A term historically used by the Roman army to indicate units of 100 men. Also called a “century.”
Earth-bound: Demons that were born in Hell but have lived so long on Earth that they could no longer survive on the infernal planes.
Gray: Entities with mixed human/demon heritage. There are also Gray with angelic parentage, although they are much less common.
hellborn: Demons that were bred and live in Hell.
kopis: Greek for “sword.” Also indicates a human imbued with better-than-average strength, an extrasensory perception of supernatural creatures, and the responsibility of policing relations between Heaven, Hell, and Earth.
undercity: Demonic settlements on Earth, usually positioned beneath human cities.
Warrens: The undercity and tunnel system built from mines beneath California, Nevada, and Arizona.
Table of Contents
Part 1: The Clock
One
Two
Part 2: Falconer
Part 3: Pillars of Flame
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Part 4: Stone B
lade
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Part 5: Sunrise
About the Author
Excerpt from DEATH’S HAND
Excerpt from DREAMS OF GRAY
Glossary
