Ink Witch (Kat Dubois Chronicles Book 1)

by Lindsey Fairleigh

  Nik stood a dozen paces back, his phone in his hand and his face angled downward.

  “Nik!” I yelled. “Let’s go!”

  He lifted his face to me, his expression stricken. Slowly, he shook his head. “Kat . . .”

  I dropped back down to the helipad and made my way to him, heart thumping and ears filled with the sound of the helicopter blades chopping through the air combined with my rushing blood. I could no longer feel the roof under my boots or the wind and rain swirling around me. All I felt was dread.

  “My mom . . .” His pale blue eyes locked with mine. “I didn’t see it earlier—my phone was dead, but I charged it as we flew. I’m so sorry, Kat. We’re too late.”

  I stared at him, heart a misshapen lump of lead. Don’t say it. Don’t say it. Don’t say it.

  “Dom’s dead.”

  22

  Dom’s dead.

  My head was shaking all on its own. “I don’t understand.” My voice sounded hollow, the vibrations echoing around inside my skull. I was empty. Nik’s words didn’t make any sense.

  Dom’s dead.

  Nik rested a hand on my shoulder, his pale eyes filled with sorrow. With pity. With grief.

  “But . . .” Awkwardly, I withdrew the anti-At orb from my jacket pocket. Through the barely translucent, obsidian-like material, I could see Dom’s soul twisting and swirling lazily. “But he’s right here.” I showed the orb to Nik, unable to take my eyes off it. “This was the plan. I—I did everything right.”

  I shook my head again, my heart beating in rhythm with the helicopter’s blades. “We all agreed. It was supposed to work. I was supposed to save him.” I looked at Nik, not understanding why we weren’t flying back to the hospital right now. “We all agreed . . .”

  Nik pressed his lips together into a thin, flat line, letting me work through this impossible reality.

  Dom’s dead.

  “This isn’t supposed to happen,” I said, steel bleeding into my voice. “This was never supposed to happen.” I clenched my jaw, breathing deeply through my nose. “He didn’t do anything wrong. He was just trying to find our people . . . trying to help, and . . .” My fingers curled around the orb containing all that was left of my best friend and mentor. Of my brother. I stuffed it back into my pocket, eyes narrowing to slits.

  This was Mari’s fault. She was the one who’d trapped Dom’s ba in the anti-At orb in the first place. Without her, he’d have healed like a normal Nejeret. Without her, he’d still be alive.

  “Kat . . .” Nik’s hand on my shoulder transformed from comforting to a warning grip. “Not here,” he said, shooting a sideways glance over his shoulder. Nearly a dozen Ouroboros security guards still stood back there in a line with the police officer.

  “If not here, then where?” I asked, a glare not meant for him cutting through his reticence. “He’s dead, Nik. Dom’s dead, and I have to know why—now. Here.”

  Nik returned my glare with a hard, measuring stare. After several seconds, he nodded. “Get your answers. I’ll keep them off your back.” Vines of crystalline At burst out of Nik’s hands, reaching the guards between one heartbeat and the next, wrapping around each man and woman, the cop included, holding them and their weapons immobile. They wouldn’t be going anywhere until he released them.

  At the same time, I spun around, facing Mari and drawing my sword in one smooth motion. My hands were still cuffed together, but it wasn’t too much of a hindrance. It just meant I’d be limited to two-handed sword moves. Power moves. Fine with me.

  Mari had just dropped down to the helipad. She took a backward step, her rear flush against the helicopter, and held her hands out to me in placation. “Kat—”

  I stalked across the helipad toward her. “You killed him!” I yelled.

  Confusion filled her jade eyes.

  “Dom’s dead,” I told her, stopping just out of sword’s reach.

  Mari’s lips parted, but she didn’t say anything. She just shook her head.

  “Why? Why did he die? For what?” I pointed my sword at her, the tip of the katana’s blade mere inches from her throat. “Tell me!” I screamed.

  She licked her lips. “He was never meant to die.” Her eyelids fluttered, tears gathering on her long lashes. “I just wanted Nik—I need him. I truly didn’t know we’d captured Dom until you told me, but once I knew, I saw it for the opportunity it was—a way to coerce you into bringing Nik to me. A way to get you to convince Nik to work with me. He’d do anything for you. But then everything went wrong. If you’d just stayed put.” A tear broke free, gliding down her perfect, pale cheek. “If you’d waited by that container like you were supposed to . . .”

  “Don’t turn this around on me. You’re the one who tore out Dom’s ba.”

  She shook her head vehemently. “No, Kat—”

  “You’re the one who trapped it in anti-At . . . the one who dragged him into that container and left him there to suffer without his ba. For all I know, you’re the one who beat the shit out of him in the first place.”

  She didn’t deny it.

  “Why?”

  She licked her lips, hair flying in her face. “Like I said, I needed to get to Nik, and the only way to do it was through you. He’d do anything for you.”

  It was my turn to shake my head. She was delusional if she thought that.

  “You were supposed to bring him to the container yard. It was supposed to be a trade—Dom’s life for Nik’s cooperation. I’d have saved Dom if you’d given me the chance. Just like I’m trying to save our people.”

  “Our people don’t need saving,” I spat back at her.

  “Oh, please. What would you know?” Green fire burned in her eyes. “You’ve been living with your head in the sand for years. You have no idea what’s been going on . . . what’s coming.”

  I moved the tip of the sword a fraction of an inch closer to her, forcing her to lean backwards into the helicopter’s cabin. “What are you talking about?”

  “They know, Kat.” Her stare was hard, challenging. “About us—about our people. Ouroboros has hard proof. If I didn’t help them by luring in Nejeret test subjects to use as lab rats, they’d have gone public. They’d have exposed us.”

  “I don’t—” I shook my head. “That doesn’t make any sense. Why not come forward? The Senate—”

  “Is in on it,” she snapped, cutting me off. “Where do you think Ouroboros got the proof in the first place? And the Nejerets I’ve been collecting—have you even seen the list? They’re all loyalists and supporters of Heru and my mom. The Senate cut a deal with Ouroboros.” Her jade eyes narrowed. “I was one of the first of our people they trapped; I let them take me so I could get on the inside. I’m walking on a tightrope here. If I misstep . . . if I even breathe wrong . . .” Her hands balled into fists. “I’ve found a way to save our people, but I need more time.”

  I inched closer until Mercy’s razor-sharp tip was flush with Mari’s skin. “Explain.”

  Mari swallowed, and the movement caused the At blade to cut into her skin. A droplet of blood snaked down her neck, leaving behind a crimson trail. “They think I’m helping them create some sort of a wonder drug based on our unique physiology.” She grinned, lips closed and eyes hard. “I have found a way to make humans live forever, but it has nothing to do with science and everything to do with souls.”

  My eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

  “A Nejeret ba—it’s like a starfish. If you tear off a piece, it grows back. And if you extract a large enough piece, it grows back twice. The only problem is, encasing those fragments in anti-At taints them, and they become inviable. They kill their new hosts, even as they transform them. That’s why I need Nik. Don’t you see, Kat?” The feverish light of fanaticism glowed in her eyes, turning her irises radioactive. “I haven’t found a way to make humans live forever. I’ve found a way to turn them into Nejerets. And if I turn enough of them into us, it won’t matter when they go public with their exposé. W
e won’t have to fear their fear, because they’ll be us.”

  Slowly, I shook my head. “You’re insane.”

  Mari laughed, the sound too high and tight, and the tip of my sword cut deeper. “Maybe, but that doesn’t change the fact that our people need me . . . or that I need Nik.” Her eyes searched mine. “Let me prove to you that you can trust me. The bargain still stands—Dom for Nik.” She held out her hand. “Give me the orb. I’ll put Dom’s ba in a new body. He’ll look different, but he’ll still be him.” Her chin trembled. “Please, Kat. This is for the good of our people.”

  I stared at her for so long that the strain of not blinking in the face of all that wind made my eyes burn. “Fine,” I said, sheathing Mercy, and reached into my pocket. Hesitating for only a moment, I offered the orb containing Dom’s soul to Mari.

  Her fingers closed around it.

  “No.” Nik’s voice was harsh behind me.

  I peered back at him out of the corner of my eye.

  “If you let her do this, Kat, it’ll be murder. The human—”

  “Would’ve only lived for a few more decades,” Mari said. “Now he could live for millennia.”

  “His human soul will die.” Nik strode closer, bringing himself into my line of sight. “Dom has lived for hundreds of years already, and his ba will continue on . . . somewhere. But whatever human she stuffs him into—Dom’s ba will overtake that person completely. This life is the only shot a human soul has. Who are you to take that away?”

  I felt torn, paralyzed by indecision.

  Nik glanced at my left forearm, where the list of names of my dead were etched in At ink, shielded by my leather sleeve. Nik couldn’t see it, but this close, I had no doubt that he could sense it. “Do you really want to add another name? A human life . . . with such a fleeting, fragile soul. It’ll be your first true murder. The first time you’ll end someone’s existence, absolutely and completely.”

  I shook my head slowly as his words sunk in, each a dagger twisting into my gut.

  “If you think you’re ready for that guilt, Kitty Kat, by all means . . .”

  I bowed my head, my eyes drifting shut. Every single person I’d killed up until now had been a Nejeret—traitorous to some degree, but a Nejeret containing an immortal soul in the form of a ba all the same. Each of my victims had continued on in that other form after I’d ended their earthly life. I couldn’t say the same would happen for the soul of any human Dom’s ba took over. Just as I couldn’t say the same for my mom. Much as I wanted to see Dom again, I couldn’t do it. Not like this. I wouldn’t be able to face him, knowing the price some poor human had paid in order for him to live again.

  “I’m sorry,” I told Dom, voice soft as I reached for the orb containing his everlasting soul.

  “So am I,” Mari said. As she spoke, my fingers passed through the orb’s no-longer-solid surface. She reached up and behind her, pulling herself into the helicopter’s cabin.

  My eyes widened, locked on the place where the orb had been. The inky anti-At had evaporated, giving way to a shimmering silver mist that scattered in the wind. It was Dom’s soul. And it was floating away.

  Panic surged, making my heartbeat trip over itself as it sped up. “Nik!” I shouted. “Can you capture him?”

  The helicopter’s blades picked up speed, sending the silver mist this way and that, scattering it further and further.

  “I’ll try!” he yelled.

  I glanced at Mari. She was watching us with sad eyes from the back of the helicopter as it lifted off. “I’m sorry,” she mouthed, tears streaming down her cheeks.

  I considered leaping off the edge of the building in an attempt to latch onto one of the helicopter’s landing skids, but it would be suicide with the handcuffs still in place.

  “He’s too scattered!” Nik called, bubbles of crystalline At pocking the air above the roof like three-dimensional polka dots containing pieces of Dom’s soul.

  I stood on the empty helipad, watching the last remnants of Dom blow away like so much dust in the wind, my heart shattering. I’d failed him.

  He was gone. Really gone.

  23

  “Can you call him back somehow?” Nik shouted to me. His hair was matted to his scalp, and his cheeks were high with color. He was pushing his sheut to the max, juggling all of those little bubbles of At, even while creating new ones to trap this or that little tendril of Dom’s soul. He wasn’t giving up.

  His determination soaked into me, and I shed my suffocating cloak of surrender. “Call him back how?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe write his name or draw a picture of him? Something?”

  “I don’t have a pen or paper or—”

  “You have skin!”

  My eyes widened, and a moment later, I dropped to my knees. I drew a dainty needle dagger from the sheath sewn into my left sleeve and didn’t hesitate to scrape the sharp tip across my wrist. The blade bit into my skin, the sharp sting no match for my resolve.

  D—O—

  “Is it working?” I yelled to Nik as I began the M. It was awkward with the handcuffs still on.

  “I think so, but—”

  Halfway through the M, I glanced up at him. He was maybe ten yards from me, halfway between the helipad and the cluster of restrained security guards. And between us, a glittering silver mist was gathering, condensing into a mystical fog. It was working. It was really working.

  “Dom?” My chin trembled, and I let out a shaky laugh, tears streaming down my cheeks. Setting down the knife, I reached out with one hand. My fingers sifted through his ethereal form like he was no more substantial than the air. The essence of him—his soul—tangled around my fingers in thin, ghostly filaments. “Stay with me?” I asked. I begged. “Please.”

  But even as I spoke, the shimmering mist that was him thinned.

  “Hurry, Nik! Before he’s too far away again!”

  The mist parted as Nik pushed through. He crouched before me, elbows on his knees, and squinted around. “I’ve surrounded all three of us by a dome of At, but Kat, I can’t let you out without losing some of him in the process. Bits of his ba are clinging to you . . .”

  I hunched over and renewed the efforts on my arm with the knife. Maybe if I could just finish writing his name, I could coax him into me. Then, I could carry him with me forever.

  “Kat.” Nik’s fingers wrapped around my knife wrist. “Stop. You have to stop.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “It’s time to let him go.” Nik brought his hand to my face like he was going to make me look at him, but I slapped it away. “Even if I captured him in At, then what? Are you really willing to hold him prisoner like that? For how long?”

  I screamed, slamming the knife down on the cement tile so hard that the thin steel blade snapped in two. I glared at Nik, eyes burning with fury caused by the truth in his words—a truth I wasn’t ready to face. “I’ll find a way to bring him back.”

  “Let him have peace.”

  “I can’t,” I said, eyes on fire with something else entirely. Tears streamed down my cheeks. “Two days ago, I drew a picture of him, and he raised his head and looked at me and told me he was alive, and it was him, Nik. For a few seconds, it was really Dom in that picture. He looked me in the eye and told me to find him, and I promised him I would.” I cleared my throat and leveled my voice. “I’m not giving up on him yet. I’ll share my own body with him if I have to.”

  “You don’t know what you’re saying, Kitty Kat.” Nik’s voice held a fierce warning. “You have no idea what it’s like to never be alone in your body.” But he knew. He’d done it for thousands of years, sharing his body with the soul of the god, Re. He might’ve been alone in his skin now, but the haunting pain shadowing his eyes was enough to give me pause.

  “But I promised him . . .”

  The rising sun peeked over a nearby building, brilliant sunlight streaming in through the At surrounding us and setting Dom’s ba aglow. Realization dawned just a
s suddenly.

  In that drawing, it was him. With that single sketch, ink on paper, just for a blip of time, I’d captured Dom’s soul—when it had still been inside him. Now, here his ba was, homeless. What if I gave it a home? Not another body, exactly, but something else. Something like the sketch, but better. Something to tide him over until I could figure out a way to give him a body that didn’t include murdering a human.

  “I think there’s another way . . .” I fished my drowned phone from my coat pocket and set it on the helipad. “Do you mind?” I asked Nik, holding my cuffed wrists out to him.

  Without a word, he touched the chain connecting the handcuffs. The metal turned opalescent one second as Nik transformed it into At, then seemed to evaporate the next, leaving my wrists naked of all but ink and blood.

  “Thanks.” I hunched over on my knees and drew the second needle dagger stowed in my other sleeve, holding it by the blade like it was a harmless pencil. With the tip of the blade, I started etching Dom’s face into the phone’s reflective surface.

  Dom. I focused every ounce of brainpower on thinking about my half-brother. On remembering the way his dark eyes could pin me in place the same way, whether they were filled with disappointment or with pride. On remembering the way his severe features softened on those rare occasions that he smiled. On remembering how he would slick back his black, chin-length hair whenever he had something to say but was holding his tongue. On remembering how he listened. How he’d chosen to spend time training me when there were a million better things for him to be doing. On how he’d given a shit about me, even when I hadn’t.

  I wiped a raindrop off the phone’s surface with the side of my hand. An electric charge seemed to pass through me and into the phone.

  “Kat, look . . .”

  I shushed Nik, adding shadows to Dom’s face in the form of faintly etched lines. I wiped away another raindrop. “Do you mind?” I said, glancing at Nik, then up at the cloudy sky.

  Except the sky was an iridescent color. Because it wasn’t the sky, but Nik’s dome of At. And the those weren’t raindrops; they were tears. My tears. There was no wind or rain in here. No sound but our own.