“Fucking Coyote shot it off when we were trying to save them from Isabel, that’s what!” Jesus was the one to growl this time. “Might have been the same guy shot Tyson too, but that took place in a different area of the fight.”
I nodded like I understood everything suddenly. “So that’s it. T-Bone don’t want to talk about his wound cuz he got it running away like the coward he is.”
T-Bone snarled at me, being shot apparently removing a lot of his usual manners. Guess it would for anyone. “Ha, ha, so, so funny.”
“Think he needs some painkillers, Doc.”
She had some kind of instrument just above the bullet hole in T-Bone’s butt cheek. Not sure what it’s called, but I wouldn’t ever want something looked like that near my asshole, that’s for sure. “Besides those scratches, are you hurt with some invisible but life-threatening injury, Price?”
“Nah.”
“Then you need to go somewhere else. I’m sure there are plenty of other people who would like to throttle you besides Bonnie here, myself included.” She snorted. “You’re lucky school’s not in session or I wouldn’t have even come . . . you’d all be limping into some mundane clinic right now.”
With a wave at the guys and a nod at the truth of what she said, I made to head for my next stop. Less laughter there I expect.
“Don’t you dare leave without telling me!” T-Bone yelled. “I got shot in the ass thanks to you! You tell me right now!”
Canine grin back, I knelt down so our faces were close. “Threw him into a well of pure existence, how about that shit?”
News seemed to dissolve whole heaps of the paranoia been building for months around T-Bone, more so than even the Vault job being over. “Sounds painful,” was all he said.
“Just a bit,” I agreed.
He nodded, relaxing now.
“Want me to geo-anima that bullet out in one go?” I offered.
“Don’t you dare!”
[CLICK]
Dreaded this next part.
Dreaded it since I heard her name come out of Paine’s lips.
Small bit I saw her during the bait and switch didn’t alleviate any of the dread. Might have made it worse. So . . . there was enough of Susan left in there to recognize me. Enough anima in there to think she talked to our dead mother too.
Stealing from the Guild was easier than this.
So was facing Paine.
Playing the Leverage Game with Ceinwyn.
Owing Vega and Mama Welf favors.
Knowing Isabel and the Three Queens were still out there.
The very inklings of what I planned to do with the Guild in a few hours . . .
All of that was easier.
I just don’t get people. I don’t get how they think the life and death is the hard part. That’s the easy part. That’s instinct and reaction and competition at its most brutal. Maybe they’re just too civilized, forgot how primal us humans once were. Forget it’s in them, forget how to use it. Me . . . that primal aspect of life and death comes so fucking easy.
Fighting Paine was fun.
FUN.
I liked it.
Once I committed to it, I knew exactly what to do.
Had no doubts.
Did it.
Got my surprise victory.
But this . . .
Emotions are so hard.
So complicated.
No competition, no score, just . . . feelings and words and a void larger than what I hurled Paine into.
What’s really fucked up when you think about it, is that for me, I’ve gotten pretty good at this shit lately. Still suck at it compared to most socially adjusted eight-year-olds, but . . . for King Henry Price, this last week had some huge steps forward. Feeling less like a monster than ever. Got more blood on my hands than ever, but feeling less like a monster than ever . . . how about that paradoxical shit?
This one . . . too close to the core of what fucked me up. People hear about Dad and the belt whippings and think that’s it; I’m not absolving the man and I think he could’ve done a lot better, but . . . Mom is what fucked me up. Ain’t even Momma Issues. I’d love Momma Issues. Mean something was there. Instead of . . . that nothing inside of me where there should’ve been something bright.
Why it so bad with Susan?
Susan tried to fill it.
Teenage girl didn’t have a clue how to do it, but she tried here and there. Failed and failed and failed again, but tried . . . was there in the nothing fighting for me. Until she just gave up, realized if she sacrificed me then she could save herself.
Don’t blame her.
I don’t.
Just a teenage girl.
Just a teenage girl trying to escape.
But she couldn’t run from what was chasing all us Prices.
Now I was gonna have to be the one in her nothing, fighting for her.
And all I done, this week and all before them . . . still only one man, barely more than a teenage boy angry at the world. Do got me a woman who loves me, another tries to lead me, and some friends ain’t so bad . . . even if one of them got shot in the ass.
Was enough to beat Paine.
Might not be enough for what comes after him.
I might not have enough in me to keep fighting for Susan and all the others.
String, ain’t it?
Still scared of them.
About to accept hers again . . . then a shit-ton more right after that.
Cuz it’s the only way . . .
I think with Paine dead I’m finally seeing the floor of that Pit.
Just starting to see how it was all linked.
How I could use everything that had happened to me and tie it together.
Bind it, string it, chain it.
Call it what you will.
Saw that floor, closing in fast on it.
But I couldn’t slow down.
Slow down and I’d go splat again.
Needed to speed up is what I needed to do.
If I sped up . . .
Belt whippings ain’t nothing for what’s coming ahead . . . but I’ll take it just like I did them back in the day.
What a little brother does for his Big Sis.
[CLICK]
Didn’t deserve it, but I got the best Pep You Up you can get heading into a moment like that. Was on my way to the SUV Jesus had pointed out with one of his non-favorite fingers, either the one attached to him or the one in the cup.
Still no media or cops about. No ESLED yet, but wouldn’t be much longer for that either. Whole area would need scrubbed. Pity any teenager took a recording with their smart phone. Pity ‘em double they’re stupid enough try to put it up on YouTube.
Battlefield felt empty now with one side missing.
Ceinwyn and Moira Welf were back talking with each other, glancing my way like a pair of predators fighting over some clutch of sweet, juicy eggs they don’t want the other one to have. Vega was with his people now, issuing orders, getting some of his crew moving out, others collecting and moving bodies into unmarked white vans.
Fought a battle together, but still ain’t and probably never be one united force, will we? Mancers and Weres, just too damned different. Got us a hydromancer with jars full of Slush and she’s picking a bullet out of T-Bone’s ass, all while Vega races his wounded off to whatever underworld doctor or vet he’s bribed to be nearby.
No sign of Val still.
Unless you counted some of her handiwork . . .
Quick check on Susan then I’m all yours, sweetheart.
There was the SUV that Jesus pointed out, behind the other one looked like it got ripped in half. Problem with armored SUVs is they armor them against bombs and bullets, not mancers. Wonder which of the Three Queens was responsible for that one?
Took a turn around the blown up SUV.
And . . .
There was the Pep Me Up.
Got me a Vicky Welf Surprise Hug.
Don’t know if she ever hugged me harder. Surely would
’ve knocked us over if not for all the geo-anima inside of me. A fact she commented on, “You’re glowing, you know!”
“Figured it was something like that,” I told her, finding it in me to return the hug like a normal human being would have. “Should’ve seen the look on your Mom’s face.”
Vicky shook with laughter, but didn’t let go. “It’s not even brown . . . it’s . . . between green and brown, does that make any sense?”
“You calling me a pretty princess, Vick?”
She pulled back enough to smile impishly at me. “I know a lot about makeup now if you ever need some tips.”
“Think I’ll pass on that. No offense to your lipstick skills, but I know you cheat with a little illusion.”
“I do not!”
“Don’t worry, I’ll keep it secret . . .”
“Never thought about geo-anima as one of the pretty ones, but now . . . well, don’t get too embarrassed if I paint a portrait of you, okay?”
”Do you have to?” I complained.
“You’re a hero! Of course you deserve your own portrait to commemorate the day! I’m planning a few of them actually . . . promise you won’t let any of the other Circle of Light artists steal you away from me?”
“Promise not to make me look like too much of an asshole?”
“I’m not that good,” she teased me.
We both laughed, Vicky so giddy that it was infectious. Her next blast of hug, me saturated with geo-anima or not, did edge us perilously close to the tipping point. She giggled something fierce, glad to have me back home and safe. Was good to see her here and not in that ambulance with T-Bone, Pocket, and Raj. Her hair was a little messy and she had . . . wait a second.
She had about fifty fucking bullet holes in the back of her Adamantine Coat! My eyes squinted at them even as she tried to shift so I couldn’t see. “Vicky . . .”
She released me, less impish and more shy. “At least we know it works now!”
“What the fuck, Vicky Welf!?!?”
“The Curator sent a group around back behind us,” she explained. “Tyson and I took charge of relocating Susan to an SUV while the others held off the first wave and . . . we were caught. Tyson tossed Susan into the car and then I jumped on him and pressed your little button . . . good thing I am such a big girl or it might not have knocked us to the ground. That’s how he was wounded . . . in the butt . . . I really like his butt . . . you don’t think it will scar, do you?”
That question really wasn’t high on my list given all the other shit I’d been wondering and thinking about, but now that it had been asked . . . nope, still not on my list. “Fifty fucking bullet holes, Vicky Welf!”
“Says the man who grabbed the Curator and disappeared on all of us!” she shot back, smacking me on the shoulder. “There’s not a scratch on me . . . I’m fine.”
Might not be the best of persons, but I’ve been a brother. Know when a girl is about to cry. Why I was the one hugged her this time, let her hide in my coat. “You’re fine,” I agreed with her.
“Thanks to you,” she blubbered a bit, “if you hadn’t made it, if you hadn’t forced it on me . . .”
“You might get annoyed about how protective I am, Vicky Welf,” I told her, “but it ain’t ever gonna be about putting you at risk. You made me give a shit about you, now you don’t get to go back, hear me?”
A sniffle escaped her. “I hear you, King Henry. Next time I won’t even argue about it.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” I teased her.
Finally, she let me go for good. Last hug of the day. Have to do something another time to earn more of them. “Brother is with your sister. Since they’re both Bonegrinders and since Miss Dale knew Mother would never give a fair assessment.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, “Heinrich Welf might be a douchebag, but he’s a fair and honorable douchebag, ain’t he?”
She sighed over me, but didn’t take the bait this time. “She’s very nice. And pretty . . . not that Josephine isn’t, I didn’t mean that. Just . . . Susan is really pretty.”
“And nice,” I repeated with a smirk.
Vick smacked my shoulder, playful for a spare second before another thought showed in her expression. “Nice as she is . . .”
“I know,” I said, tone making it clear I knew what to expect. “Another good reason I’m so fucked up, right?”
“You told me before what your mother was like, this isn’t that, King Henry. It’s still not good, but . . . she’s there. Just . . . a bit odd. All mancers are a little odd and she’s just a bit more than normal, that’s all.”
“Talking to dead people.”
“Which, growing up with two necromancers, not as odd as you think,” Vicky tried to put some polish on the situation.
“Except for the part where it’s all just in her head and who knows how many people are in there telling her to put the baby in the microwave,” I did not put some polish on the situation.
“Now is not the time to be negative. You know how much worse she could be. You know what her life has been like for years now. It’s a miracle, King Henry! This whole day is a miracle! Don’t you see that? She should be . . . she shouldn’t even be forming sentences. As much hope as I have in my heart, I thought we would only be saving some shell that anima had consumed. Instead . . . she’s nice. Not well, but nice.”
“Yeah, bright side of things and all that. I’m known for it,” I growled some sarcasm.
She nodded back down the road towards the ambulance. “Open the backseat door when you’re ready. I’ll be checking on Tyson if you need me.”
“Sure. Thanks for being you, Vicky Welf.”
With a last bright smile, she was off.
Fifty something bullet holes on her back, showing the artifact mesh underneath where they had all been brought to a stop before killing her plenty dead.
Never did say what happened to those Wilders that snuck around behind us, I thought, wondering about a clump of bodies even farther up the road from where I stood. Came up the shore from the looks of it and didn’t even cross over the highway before launching their attack. Bodies were blackened, underneath them the sand burnt so hot that it turned into glass in numerous places.
T-Bone finally call down the lightening, did he?
Door.
Backseat door.
Just right there.
Could see Welf’s silhouette through the tinted glass, talking to someone in the opposite seat. Belisarius stared at me from the driver’s seat. Jason Jackson’s big shoulders and his even bigger neck visible. Outside of the necro-anima lines that helped control the Construct, Welf had kept everything about Jason in Belisarius. No hidden, sewn-directly-into-the-flesh weapons, no augmented bones. Moira von Welf was the same for the most part. Keep them as close to living as they once were. Close, but not Jason. Didn’t hold itself like Jason. Held itself like Welf thought a person like Jason should hold themselves. Welf shaved the head almost bald too. Very uptight. Jason had never been uptight. Then there was the lack of breathing. Guess Welf hadn’t gotten around to automating that trick like his mother had.
Belisarius sneered at me just then.
No Jason Jackson in that gesture.
Was all Welf.
Same expression he always wore when he caught sight of me.
Look of disgust that had been building on itself for almost ten years now.
Was a dare in it this time.
It hoped I’d be too much of a coward to open that door.
That I’d walk away.
Or maybe all that was in my imagination.
Maybe I was the one placing my fears in the face of the undead.
So she sees dead people.
So she told you that Mom was proud of you and it felt like your heart got ripped out.
Be rational about it. Wasn’t Mom telling you that, was Susan telling you that in whatever way her fucked up head works now. Ain’t so bad, is it? Big Sis is proud of you. Rescued her from Paine. Killed P
aine. Get to clean up what he left behind. Get to go to London and smack Massey around. Get to open that door and see Susan smile at you.
Get to have family dinner with JoJo, Dad, and Susan sometime in the future. Fuck, maybe even take Val and have Vega come too. And Marge, can’t forget Marge! Maybe Susan can start channeling Mom in the middle of dessert, that’d be fun!
Yeah, well, it can’t be all rainbows and sparkles, even for Vicky Welf.
Open the fucking door, asshole.
So I did.
“Foul Mouth,” Welf greeted without turning around. “Glad you could rejoin us.”
“Had to finish some business first, Welf.”
“I’ll assume by your apparent health that you were victorious and the world has been rid of that madman.”
He finally shifted enough so I could get a glance of Susan.
Damn she looked like Mom. Easier with JoJo. Whatever slice of genetic material got doled out during our conceptions, JoJo and I came from the same working blocks. Slightly altered, different hormones doing their jobs, but we had that Price coloring and Price pugnaciousness, if not any of Dad’s size. But Susan . . . so much like Mom I mistook her at the funeral all those years ago. So much like Mom I mistook her again when Isabel shifted into Susan at the Ouroboros.
So much like Mom I dreaded more ‘Bad Days’ and ‘Good Days’ just seeing her. Didn’t have time during the swindle, what with Paine there, but now I played out the old ritual. Glance at the face, see if the skin was slack. Peer into her eyes, see if she was home or stuck in that brain of hers.
Only, much as she looked like her . . . like Vick told me, this wasn’t Mom.
Was Susan.
My Big Sis. Thirty-years-old. Went to the Asylum and her last year would’ve been my first. Would’ve had a Hep watching out for me. Or . . . maybe keeping an eye out to make sure I didn’t cause too much trouble. Shit, she might have been my Student-Advisor instead of dweeby ass Patrick Hanks.
She didn’t get that life.
Neither did I.
Same as I told Vick about What If . . . no use dwelling on it, all you could do is work with the hand you got dealt. No matter how shit the hand started. “How you doing, Suze?”
“I am having quite the day, Little Bro,” she said with a smile. “Lot more interesting than just giving my daily anima vial and tending to the other patients, let me tell you . . .”
The Pit of No Return (The King Henry Tapes Book 6) Page 83
