Fury Rising (Fury Unbound Book 1)

by Yasmine Galenorn

  So the Junk Yard stood. As I grew older, I began to realize that leaving it standing was a way for the city council to keep an eye on the groups they were afraid of.

  The car eased between the barbed-wire gates that were open from sundown to sunup, turning right at the first street. I clutched the multi-tool, opening up the one actual blade it had. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing. The driver pulled into a burrow-lane, jumped out of the car, and quickly slammed the door, locking it remotely.

  I struggled, trying to smash the window again, but then a soft hiss echoed through the car as gas began to pour out of the vents. The next thing I knew, the world went black.

  I woke up to find myself tied to a chair in what appeared to be a dusty basement, lit by a single bulb in the center of the ceiling. My bag was on the ground next to me. My mother was naked on a table, unconscious and restrained. The man was standing over her.

  He wore a shiny apron and gloves over dirty jeans, and looked to be bare-chested. I tried to memorize what he looked like. The scars on his head looked like they had been inflicted from a brand, probably a prison brand. Goggles rested on the top of his head, and in one hand he held a scalpel. The dim light glittered off the blade.

  “What do you want?” I knew better than beg him to let her go. There was no mercy in those glittering and cruel eyes.

  He traced my mother’s bare breasts with his finger, smiling faintly, and bile rose in my throat. I wanted to slap him, to smack him away from her. Without looking up, he said, “I’m going to give your mother a lesson she’ll never forget.” And then he glanced over at me, a twisted grin on his face. “And lucky girl, you get to watch every thing that I do.”

  My mother stirred. He slapped her face, hard.

  “Kaeleen? Kae?” Her voice was thick. He had drugged her, all right. “Where’s my daughter?” Panic filled her voice as she struggled against the restraints.

  “I’m all right. I’m over here.” I wanted her to hear me, to know I was okay.

  “Shut up, bitch.” He pinched her nipple so hard she screamed. “I’m going to clean you up, you dirty slut. And then I’m going to tend to your little girl. When I’m done with her, I’ll give her the same treatment I’m about to give you.”

  He clicked a remote and turned on a classical violin piece. Then, covering his eyes with the goggles, he brought the scalpel down and the blood sprayed. As my mother screamed, a red mist began to rise, cloaking my vision. Everything slowed down, the world shining through a crimson filter. As her screams filled my ears, he turned up the music to drown out her screams.

  Furious beyond anything I had ever felt, I let out one long shriek, screaming for Hecate.

  I woke up, lying on the sidewalk in front of a magic shop. A tall man I recognized as a friend of my mother’s was staring down at me, a horrified look on his face. Jason knelt and gathered me in his arms. He carried me into the shop, where I passed out again.

  The next time I woke up, I was in a bed, with Jason’s sister watching over me.

  “Mom?” I knew the answer already, but I needed to hear her say it, to know that it was real.

  “We found your mother, sweetie,” Shevron said. The heartbreak in her voice said everything I needed to know.

  I struggled to sit up, squinting. My entire body felt numb. I glanced around and saw my bag on a chair near Shevron, along with my mother’s purse. Then reality hit me in the gut. I leaned over the edge of the bed and threw up.

  Shevron held my shoulders until the foam and vomit had vacated my stomach, and then as she wiped my mouth and gave me a drink to rinse, I passed out again.

  Later that day, I found out that someone had found my mother’s body in a gutter. It was charred to a crisp. The Devani’s report noted a fire reported in the Junk Yard but the bogeys took care of their own problems and no official response was mounted. Shevron called in a doctor, but I was unhurt—physically.

  Marlene’s name was added to the list of the Carver’s victims. There were twenty names on the list, too many to ignore. But Seattle was a big city and nobody could seem to find him. Jason wouldn’t let me go to the authorities to tell them my story. He warned me that they would take me away and that the Devani would control my every move from then on.

  So I kept quiet. Jason took me in and enrolled me in a school in Darktown. Nobody ever made the connection. Tam extricated my chips from the back of my neck and he managed to reprogram them. They retained my name, but my ID number was different and he programmed in a different background. He also negated the tracking system. It was as though the old Kaeleen Donovan had vanished, as far as the government was concerned.

  I never knew how I escaped the Carver and the Junk Yard, nor how I managed to land on Jason’s doorstep. It was a black area that I preferred to leave untouched. It would be another thirteen years before I saw the Carver again. And by that time, I was itching to face him.

  Chapter 5

  Hecate’s office was on the third floor. She usually met with me once a month, more often when she assigned me to a case, but I was overdue this time. Truth was, sometimes I rebelled just to feel like I had a say in my own life.

  “You with me, Queet?”

  “Yeah, I’m still here. I’d rather not be, you know.”

  “I know, I know. Hush up.” Queet got on my nerves, but he had just as little say in his destiny as I did in mine, and I didn’t blame him for being churlish. It was one thing to be pushed around when you were alive, but to find yourself conscripted into service after you were dead? Not so fun.

  I pushed through the double glass doors, striding into the reception room. Coralie, a young woman with golden hair and wearing a white one-shouldered dress, sat behind the desk. She looked up as I slowed my pace and crossed to stand in front of her.

  “Fury, hello. Are you here to see Hecate? Hi, Queet.” She stared to my right, and I noticed that a misty form was standing beside me. Here, in the heart of the gods, spirits couldn’t hide themselves.

  “Uh huh. Hi, yourself.” Queet’s voice echoed in the room.

  Ignoring him, I leaned forward, glancing at the screen. “Yeah. She told me to get my ass over here, so I figure it’s important.”

  Coralie tapped my name into a computer and looked at the screen. She turned to me with a broad smile, the kind of smile that says I’ve done this a thousand times today and I’m getting tired of it. “She’s expecting you. I’ll let her know that you’ve arrived. If you’ll take a seat, please.” She gestured toward the waiting area.

  I eased myself into an overstuffed armchair, crossing my legs. Hecate would let me stew as long as she wanted to. I had learned early on that “Hurry up and wait” was a fact of life in service to the gods.

  The office was decked out in gold and pink and ivory, the soft gold carpet plush under my feet. The walls were pale, a muted rose, and the waiting area resembled nothing less than a high-priced salon. I wouldn’t have been at all surprised to hear soft wet-dream music playing in the background, but instead there was the soft whir of air-conditioning.

  I leaned my head back against the chair, closing my eyes. I wanted nothing more than to take a nap, but it wouldn’t be seemly to nod off while I was waiting for one of the Elder Gods. Even though I was dreading the upcoming meeting, I relaxed into the cushions. Ten minutes later, I was having trouble keeping my eyes open. I yawned, about to get myself a drink of water, when Coralie suddenly looked up.

  “Hecate will see you now. You too, Queet. You remember where her office is?”

  I let out a sigh. “I remember. You don’t need to direct me.”

  I slugged back the water, then headed around the corner and down the hall. At the first intersection, I took a right. Her office was at the end of the corridor, next to those of the Fates. She worked with them off and on.

  Hecate was the Goddess of the Crossroads, the Mistress of Dark Magic, the Mother of Phantoms. She ruled in the shadows. She also watched over the
oppressed and those on the fringe. Most of us who lived in Darktown fit that category, when I thought about it.

  I stopped at the last door on the left, knocked once, and then entered the room. Queet followed in a swirl of mist.

  Hecate’s office always surprised me. Before I met her, I would have expected to find her office dark and filled with gloom and doom, cobwebs and cauldrons. Instead, the walls were pale ivory, the carpeting dark blue, the leather furniture was antique white, and the desk—a rich, lustrous pecan. A series of pastoral landscapes decorated the walls. Thriving plants filled the room with oxygen, smelling very deep and green and woodsy. Opposite her desk, in a wall case, Hecate displayed her swords and sickles. I admired the blades every time I showed up for a meeting. I loved blades, actually, and in addition to the ones I used in her service, I had a tidy little collection stashed in my apartment.

  Hecate herself was another matter. No gloomy robes for her. Today, her hair was fashioned into an upswept chignon with braids dangling from the center. She was wearing her usual black leather pants. But her bustier was plum with white polka dots, and over the top, she wore a black leather blazer.

  I knelt in front of her, inclining my head to touch the floor. “My Lady of the Dark Moon.”

  “For fuck’s sake, stifle it. Get up. You know I don’t like groveling.” She was sitting on the edge of her desk, staring at me with pursed lips. She didn’t look happy, but at least she didn’t look like she was out for blood.

  “So. First, you did a good job on the Abomination last night. I’m very pleased by how you are faring in that department.” The sudden praise shocked me. Hecate wasn’t given to easy compliments. As if to prove my point, she added, “You look like something the cats dragged in. Don’t you ever sleep?”

  “You know what the Crossroads do to me. Every time.” I always seemed to arrive after a rough night. I wasn’t sure why, but that was just the way things seemed to play out. I took a seat on the sofa opposite her desk.

  “Yes…well…make use of this.” Hecate handed me a box filled with chocolates. “Zeus was in a good mood and he decided to give everyone gifts. It’s not a good idea to admit that you don’t like chocolate when the god of the realm decides you should.”

  I gazed at the box warily. Five pounds of exquisite chocolate, by the looks of it, but I was cautious. Zeus’s gifts were tricky. “They aren’t cursed, are they? I mean, he’s not going to show up in my bedroom in the middle of the night and try to play footsie, is he?”

  At that, Hecate slapped her leg and laughed. “Oh, Fury, I do love your sense of humor. But no, I wouldn’t worry if I were you. Hera keeps pretty close tabs on him lately. She’s not thrilled about the influx of Theosians into the pantheon, all those lovely young women who have joined Olympus as minor goddesses. But no matter, I doubt he would try to bed you anyway. Zeus tends to like his women a little more…pliable…than you. All I ask is that you put the box in a bag when you carry it out. Actually, I have a shopping bag you can use. I just don’t want it to get back to him that I gave them away.”

  I accepted the box and popped one in my mouth. The exquisite flavor of melting chocolate combined with raspberry filling exploded on my tongue, and I let out a sigh of contentment.

  Hecate just stared at me, shaking her head. “I think I could bribe you to do anything as long as I gave you enough chocolate. All right, tell me about the Abom.”

  Fueled by the chocolate and the realization that she was actually in a decent mood, I told her exactly what happened. “I picked up his Trace when I was about two blocks from the Sandspit. He came in off the World Tree—I’m fairly sure he hadn’t been here too long before I found him. He was hungry and went for Tommy-Tee. That’s when I took him over to the Crossroads. He was so big I didn’t think I could handle him on this plane.”

  “I see. Well, good enough on that. Have you noticed that there seems to be an influx of Abominations lately?”

  I had an answer for that question, too. “Yeah, I have. We generally get two or three a month, but so far, I’ve taken out seven in the past three weeks.”

  “That’s what I thought.” She frowned. “Keep an eye on things and let me know how many come through over the next two weeks. But that isn’t why I called you here today. We have a bigger problem, but you’ll have to wait a moment. I forgot to bring one of my files in with me.” And with that, she quickly exited the office, shutting the door behind her.

  I relaxed, stretching my legs out to stare at the tips of my boots. I still felt bruised on the inside from being out on the Crossroads, but it would fade.

  “Nice boots,” Queet suddenly shouted at me. Or rather, it felt like shouting because he was projecting his thoughts into mine, and the communication was amplified, given where we were.

  “Damn it, Queet, don’t shout at me. You nearly broke my eardrums.” Relenting, I murmured, “Thanks. I found them in a penny-store.”

  I turned my leg to the side and stared at the whip trailing down to the top of the boots right above my ankle. Like my blades, that too had been a gift from Hecate.

  The day I turned twenty-one, she had taken the tattoo gun to me herself, as a rite of passage. I had never experienced physical pain like that before or since. And there it was, a weapon that I could never lose. If someone yanked it out of my hand, it would burn their fingers and appear back on my leg. By the same token, I couldn’t wear pants anymore without losing access to it, so I mostly wore shorts and sometimes, a skirt, which made for some cold winters. But I had found that a long cape helped keep the chill at bay without impeding my movement too much.

  I popped another chocolate in my mouth and peppermint oozed out on my tongue. Closing my eyes, I melted into the taste. Thanks to being born a Theosian, my metabolism was faster than a normal human’s. I needed to eat and eat often to keep my energy up.

  “What’s keeping her?” Queet blurred in and out. “I have things to do.”

  “Just what do you have on your agenda that is so pressing? A self-help group for the disgruntled dead? Face facts, Queet. You’re my spirit guide. Hecate assigned you to me, so this is your job. I am your job. You’re on the clock right now, just as much as I am.”

  He just muttered. Queet had been a schoolteacher until an Abomination raided his classroom. He had managed to get his students to safety before the Abom began feeding on him. Another hunter—I have no idea who—burst into the room and took out the creature before it could destroy Queet’s soul. At that point, the Fates conscripted him and handed him over to Hecate. She had paired him up to act as a spirit guide for several Theosians before me, but none of the couplings had worked out very well.

  As I waited, studiously ignoring his irritation, I glanced around the room. I wanted to read, but I had left my tablet at home, so I leaned back and closed my eyes, deciding that if I dozed off, well, I deserved the break.

  Thirty minutes later, I sputtered myself awake. Hecate still hadn’t returned, so I stretched, yawning, as I shook off the sudden nap.

  Ten minutes later, so bored I was almost tempted to start up a conversation with Queet, I upended my bag on the seat next to me. I picked up my wallet. Time to face the truth, as painful as it might be. I heaved a long sigh and opened the black and white double-fold. Pulling out my cash-card, I stared at the piece of plastic. Finally, I gathered my courage and pressed my thumb against the square on the back. A moment later and the digital display lit up. Seventy-two cash and some change.

  “Ugh.” I stared at the number. “I have to find another client.”

  “The cupboards are running bare at home,” Queet said, ever so helpfully.

  “I know. Just be grateful you don’t have to eat.” Granted, all my bills were paid for the month, but I hated being one paycheck away from the street.

  “Have you thought of moving back in with Jason? At least you only had to clean the apartment instead of paying rent.”

  Queet knew how I felt about the subject, but I
had to admit, it was a thought. But it was a thought I immediately nixed.

  “No, that ended when I was eighteen. Eileen isn’t comfortable around me. She was okay with me living there till I reached legal age, but then she got antsy. We’re better off living apart, if only for the sake of his love life. I’ll figure something out. I’d better—rent will be due again in a few weeks.”

  As I stuffed my wallet back in my bag and slipped another chocolate in my mouth, deciding to go in search of Hecate, I looked up to find her watching me from the door, a scowl on her face. But she merely crossed to her desk and slid into the chair.

  “I told you I wanted to talk to you because there’s a problem. Queet, I want you to hear this since you work with Fury. It’s a delicate matter, but now…things are breaking open and we have to act immediately.”

  “Wha—” Melted chocolate dribbled down my chin and I swallowed as quickly as I could without choking, then wiped my face with a tissue. “What’s going on?”

  She grimaced. “There was a theft a few nights ago at the World Regency Corporation. Word leaked out. Don’t ask me how we found out—we have many spies who walk the world.”

  “What was taken?” It had to be important for Hecate to get involved.

  “The World Regency Corporation has an anti-magic zone at the top of their building. It turns out that they not only conduct private meetings there, which you would expect, but they also store dangerous magical tools. Last night, someone broke into the building and took something that could have a significant effect on the future. Today, the Fates invested me with retrieving it and finding out who was behind the theft. I’m assigning you to help.”

  I had never been asked to retrieve stolen items before. This all sounded very strange and mysterious. And she still hadn’t told me what went missing. “What was stolen?”

  “A silver disk, about the size of a bread-and-butter plate. There’s a soft sheen to it, almost like brushed silver. The center is raised, like a dome, and it looks like polished chrome. A ring of red lights surrounds the very edge of it. It’s an artifact from the Weather Wars, it’s known as the Thunderstrike, and it can be used to amplify and control weather.” She fell silent, waiting for me to digest the information.