Something to Curse About (Discord Jones)

by Gayla Drummond

  I’d planned to see if Mom or Betty could help find them homes, but catching that, I realized the idea of keeping them suited me just fine. That way I could be certain of what happened to them since I wouldn’t lose touch.

  Scooping the bacon out to drain on paper towels, I said, “I have got to find a house.”

  “For you and Nick?” Terra asked.

  “No, my pack and me. I can’t have that many big dogs in an apartment. Those are done. Hot pads are in that drawer. Just take the skillet over to the table.” I turned off burners while she followed directions, and carried the bacon over. Logan swatted the tennis ball into the living room, and Speck bounded after it.

  He stood, sniffing, and took a seat. “Looks good, ladies. Thank you.”

  Terra sat down, but I grabbed my notepad before joining them. I tore my shopping list free and stared at the blank page. After a few seconds, I sighed and tossed the pen down in favor of serving myself some eggs. “I got nothing on this guy. No motive for him cursing people into killing themselves, no clues except he’s involved with the dog fighting.”

  “Blood?” Logan and I focused on Terra. The teen shrugged. “I don’t know, I mean, blood’s life, and it’s used for a lot of things aside from keeping people and vampires alive. We have a sharing ritual when someone new joins our clan. It’s used to seal oaths, for spells, for…”

  “Sacrifices to demons.” I scowled. “I swear, if demons are involved, I will personally introduce Curseman’s face to a brick wall. Like, a dozen times.”

  “Not just to demons. To gods too.” Logan speared a couple of pieces of bacon. “I know the One True God thing really took root with humans, but there’s not one god. There’s hundreds, maybe thousands.”

  I shoveled eggs into my mouth, wishing he hadn’t said that. Oh, sure, I realized people thought there were a lot of gods—my witch buddies picked personal gods to appeal to from the Aztec pantheon—but to hear someone say there were loads and loads of omnipotent beings out loud seriously tilted my world outlook twenty degrees past “batshit crazy” and caused beyond-serious doubt in my ability to survive.

  “Did I say something wrong?”

  His question tuned me into the muffled growling. My muffled growling. Swallowing, I shook my head. “Nope, I’m just wondering how crazy things have to get before I end up drooling all over a straitjacket with my name on it at Happyville Manor.”

  Terra ducked her head while snagging a couple of pieces of bacon. I grabbed a few slices before they all disappeared. Shifters were hell on a girl’s bacon supply. “Okay, let’s go with her blood theory. All the suicides I know about did involve blood splattering everywhere, and so does the dog fighting. But if it’s not being collected or spilled in like, a circle or whatever, what good does it do Curseman to be painting the town red?”

  Logan straightened and pointed a piece of bacon at me. “Intent. Spells are intentions, and curses are spells. Magic practitioners always choose a personal…”

  “God,” I finished. “Yeah, that I did know. So he’s…”

  “Creating the curses with the intention of the victims being sacrifices to his god.” Logan paused, lifting one shoulder slightly. “I’m sticking with a god over demons. They can be capricious and cruel, but people are agents, more of an investment for them. Demons just use and kill anyone who calls on them.”

  Made sense to me, and I said so. “Which means our next step is what? Find where any gods are hanging out at in Santo Trueno and ask who’s been getting a lot of bloody presents?”

  He chuckled. “I don’t think it’ll be that easy, Discord.”

  “Nothing ever is.” I chomped down on a piece of bacon and ground it to paste before swallowing. “Oh.”

  “Oh, what?”

  “That means it’s time to call the witches in. They can ask their personal gods to lend us a hand.” I popped the rest of my bacon into my mouth and smiled at them.

  TWENTY-TWO

  Terra and I were in my bedroom, changing clothes before leaving for the Blue Orb, when a crash came from the living room. “What the hell?”

  Dogs began barking, and the Chihuahuas came hauling into the room, screaming about bad animal people. I pointed at Terra. “Put them in the bathroom and stay here.”

  Not waiting for her agreement, I ran out the door and down the hallway. My front door hung from one hinge, the top of it leaning toward the wall. Leglin stood in the remains of the doorway, indecision plain in the way his ears couldn’t settle on perked or flattened. Logan wasn’t to be seen, and the pits were outside. “What is it?”

  “Tigers.”

  “Guard Terra and the little ones. I’ll yell if we need you. Take her to Mr.Whitehaven if you have to get her out.” I rushed past as he jumped out of my way, and barreled right into the shifter I’d thrown out of the back of Logan’s truck the night before.

  He snarled and swung as I stumbled backward and fell, landing on my butt. “Ow.”

  Planting my hands, I lifted my rear and kicked with one leg, catching him square in the family jewels, and then under the chin when he bent over. He went sideways and I scrambled to my feet, already scanning the courtyard.

  Leglin could handle him if he went after Terra.

  My short-sleeved blouse flapped open as I ran toward the circle of shifters surrounding Logan and Mr. Bodybuilder, who’d apparently already swapped a few blows from the blood decorating their faces and shirts. Bone and his pack darted in and out, their snarls filling the air as they bit at legs and arms. “Break it the hell up!”

  “Not this time, chickie.” Mr. Bodybuilder spat blood. “Your wolf’s not here to protect you once I’ve ripped his,” he spat more blood in Logan’s direction. “Head off.”

  “Stay out of it, Discord.”

  I felt a gentle mental touch and stopped. Logan said Please get Terra out of here. Don’t let them take her. Teague knows what to do.

  A shiver made my heart skip a beat. He sounded grim and resigned. I will if I have to, but I’m not leaving you without any backup. Leglin’s guarding her right now and will get her out if needed.

  Diablo lunged, catching one of the tigers by the arm, and dragged him out of the circle. Red leaped and hit the man in the back, knocking him down. Another tiger, a woman, turned around and went for the red dog, but Bone darted between them and her, his growl warning her away.

  How the hell had they found us? I scanned minds, trying to ignore the meaty-sounding thwacks as Logan and Mr. Bodybuilder began knocking each other around again. It proved damn difficult to find out anything, because the shifters’ excitement over the bloody entertainment and winning the White Queen blocked most other coherent thoughts.

  Then I caught a glimpse of Patrick in one mind. Son of a bitch. They’d followed him.

  I whistled for the dogs, who were dancing away from every attempt to hit or grab them. They broke off their attack and ran to me, their eyes gleaming. Bone snapped at one shifter who aimed a kick at Sal’s back end.

  “We can take’em,” Diablo barked. “Freakin’ pussycats, coming on our territory.”

  “I know.” I knelt and grabbed his head. “But they want the girl. Someone could go through the window in my room. Try not to kill anyone. Just disable them, okay?”

  “You heard her,” Bone panted. “Let’s go.”

  They raced back to my apartment and disappeared inside. A roar wrenched my head back around in time to see Mr. Bodybuilder staggering backwards, with four bright red lines across his face.

  It looked like a good time to bust the party up, while Logan had the upper hand. Concentrating, I threw my hands out, palms forward. Just before I released the surge of TK, I heard a click in my head.

  Bright white lightning boomed into being and, crackling noisily, settled around the group. What an absolutely fantastic time for a new ability to arrive. I gulped and kept my hands up, afraid of what might happen when I lowered them. “I said, break it the hell up! I don’t have time for this crap.”

&n
bsp; The repeat wasn’t necessary, as they’d already frozen. Logan moved, extremely slowly, until he could watch Mr. Bodybuilder and see me. No one else moved anything but their eyes. The weight of them made me nervous, but I took a deep breath and seized on something I’d seen in a movie once. “I gave them sanctuary.”

  A slight shake of Logan’s head said that hadn’t been a good idea, but I didn’t have another one handy to run with.

  “Who the hell are you?” Mr. Bodybuilder had a scowl that could melt steel without the extra oomph the rips in his face gave it. My knees didn’t like his scowl, and I had to lock them to keep from backing away.

  “Discord Jones, douchebag, and in case you didn’t notice, I’m also pissed off. You broke into my home and attacked my guests. I should fry your ass right now for coming onto my territory.” That sounded appropriately angry. I hoped. “Here’s how the rest of this is going down. You and your friends are going to leave. Anyone who doesn’t is going to dance the Electric Slide until their brains turn to ash.”

  Mr. Bodybuilder jabbed a finger in Logan’s direction. “You won’t be around to save him next time.”

  “I wouldn’t bet on it, but it looks to me like I saved your life just now, bub.” I grinned, praying the fact my head was beginning to pound didn’t show. The lightning didn’t let up at all. “He was an inch away from taking your head off.”

  Logan’s wry sounding Right echoed in my mind. Geeze, he should have more confidence in himself. I tried to point that out. “You’re not much of a challenge to a guy who’s fought and killed hundreds of demons, dude.”

  A tiny flash of uncertainty tightened Mr. Bodybuilder’s lips. He snarled and turned around. “We’ll go, but this isn’t the end.”

  Man, I wanted them to go really, really bad, and had no clue how to stop the lightning. My arms were beginning to shake from behind held straight out for so long. If I lost control of it, Logan would fry along with the rest of them. Okay, I can do this. Deep breath, let it out slow…

  I lowered my arms, willing the lightning to fade away, and to my immense relief, it obeyed. “I won’t hold him back next time.”

  The shifters left, trying to saunter, but the tightness in their bodies said it was all for show. Logan stayed put, watching until they were out of sight, and then turned to me. “I haven’t seen you do that before.”

  “Didn’t know I could.” My legs gave out, and I fell to the grass, banging my knees. Sparkles danced across my vision, and I groaned. “Not sure I want to again.”

  The grass felt soft and taking a nap on it seemed like a superb idea. I crumpled onto my side, closing my eyes, and thought about calling Mom.

  Logan knelt next to me and tugged my blouse closed. “Are you okay?”

  “Head hurts.”

  “What can I do to help?” His fingers brushed my skin as he began buttoning my blouse.

  Leave me here? Naw. “I kind of want my mommy.”

  He chuckled and scooped me off the nice, inviting grass. “I’ll call her after I get you inside.”

  My headache went from ax in the brain to a dull sawing when I rested my head on his shoulder. Maybe I’d screwed up things even worse, but calm flowed from Logan, making it clear he wasn’t angry.

  Good, because I was angry enough for both of us.

  ***

  “My word.” Mom’s voice announced her welcome arrival. “What happened? Cordi, are you all right? Oh,” she squeaked when Logan turned around from talking to the security guard. “You’re bleeding! Sit down.”

  “I’ll be okay. Discord has a major headache.”

  Mom scooted through the doorway and perched on the edge of the couch, her hand cool against my forehead. “You’re running a fever.”

  “New ability.” I closed my eyes, feeling my lips curve a little. Though potentially not safe for her to be here, Mom’s presence made everything better.

  Not only that, but she was hell on wheels at getting things done. In less than five minutes, she’d brewed me a cup of her special herbal headache tea, called my father, and shooed out the security guard. I sipped the tea, listening as she called maintenance.

  Done with that, she nagged Logan until he sat down and let her take a look at his wounds. “What did this?”

  “Another shifter.” He winced when she gently prodded at the gashes across his chest. “I’ll heal, Sunny. You don’t have to…”

  “Nonsense. Stay right there.” She turned to Terra, who sat in the hallway with Leglin, blocking the other dogs from the living room. “There’s a first aid kit under the bathroom sink. Will you bring it to me?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” The teen jumped to her feet and hurried down the hall without stepping on anyone furry. Mom disappeared into the kitchen, and water began to run.

  Logan grimaced before whispering. “She doesn’t have to clean me up.”

  “Yes, she does, or you’ll never hear the end of it. Mom likes taking care of people.” I took another sip of the tea, ignoring the taste. Whatever she put into it always worked on my psychic-induced headaches. “Did you call the shop?”

  He nodded, checking his swollen eye. The split skin over it had already begun knitting closed. “They think the same thing, someone using curses to sacrifice to a god. He said the familiars being really upset with whatever they found clued them in. They aren’t scared of demons, but they are of gods. Ah, what did they find?”

  I told him about the first curse that hit me, and passing it to Dad so that they could examine it. “Someone should’ve told you about that.”

  Logan shrugged off being left out of the loop. “We were all busy looking for you.”

  By then, Mom had gotten his shirt off and was busy cleaning the gashes. Terra shifted from foot to foot, holding the first aid kit. Her gaze went from Logan to the open doorway. “Someone’s coming.”

  “Probably the maintenance man or Ben.” Mom rose and walked to the door to look out. “Maintenance.”

  Once again, she took charge. I snuggled into the afghan she’d tucked around my shoulders and finished my tea.

  Dad arrived just in time to deal with the apartment manager. “Well no, I can’t explain the dogs…”

  “Rescues. Trying to find their owners,” I said, rubbing my temples. The last of my headache faded while he tried his best to keep me from being kicked out. It didn’t work, but at least he negotiated a week’s time to vacate.

  “The dogs have to go immediately. I’m sorry, honey.” He dropped down onto the couch next to me and patted my knee. “How are you feeling?”

  “Loads better. Thanks for the tea, Mom.”

  She nodded, clucking over Logan. She’d finished cleaning the blood off him, and had begun smearing antibiotic ointment over his wounds. Terra stood behind the chair, stroking Logan’s black hair with nervous fingers. The gashes had mostly closed, and his bruises were already turning yellow and green. He’d relaxed, laying his head back and closing his eyes.

  I looked at the hallway and twenty-two pairs of bright eyes stared back. “I need a house. A big one with a huge backyard.”

  “I’ll call Rita,” Dad said, naming a family friend. “She received her real estate license last year. In the meantime…”

  “You can move home. I’ll take the dogs with me when I leave.” Mom stood up and flipped her braid over her shoulder. There was more gray in her blonde hair than I remembered being there. “You said you rescued all of them?”

  “Well, not the big ones. I’m keeping them. And the tiny black one, I want to keep him if no one claims him.” There, I’d made it even more official, after telling Patrick they were my pack. Soft thunder crept from the hallway as tails pounded carpet. “But I can’t move home, Mom.”

  “Why not? Because of your job?” She put her hands on her hips, narrowing her blue eyes. “That’s it. I’ve had enough.”

  “Uh…”

  “You deliberately don’t tell me things, Discordia Angel Jones, and I’m tired of not knowing what’s going on.”

>   Dad flinched and leaned away from me at her use of all three of my names. She stabbed a finger in his direction. “And you aid and abet her, Benjamin Thomas! We are still family, and I’m sick of the two of you trying to, to…whatever it is you think you’re doing.”

  “Protect you.” Logan’s quiet comment yanked her head around. His shoulders hunched under her glare. “That’s what they’re trying to do.”

  “I’m a grown woman and a mother. I don’t need to be protected. What I need is to know what’s going on so that I can help. Or at least not worry constantly.” Mom’s bottom lip trembled. She stopped it by turning a scowl on Dad and me. “Am I, or am I not, a member of this family?”

  “Yeah, Mom, but…”

  Dad put his hand on my knee. “Of course you are, Sunny. You’re right, and I’m sorry. Cordi’s sorry too, aren’t you, honey?”

  “Ah…yes. Yes, I am so sorry, Mom.” Crap, how did this turn from keeping her safe and worried as little as possible to her feeling like she wasn’t part of the family anymore? So not my intention. “I just…I hate worrying you, and my job’s not roses all the time, and I’ve made some enemies.”

  “Then you’re doing things right.” Mom smiled. “I knew before you woke up that you weren’t going to be the exact same little girl anymore. The news was full of coma victims waking up with special powers. I’m proud that you decided to use yours to help people. But I don’t need to be helped, Cordi. I don’t need to be protected, but informed.”

  When she put it like that, I felt about two inches tall. Mom wasn’t finished. “I’m your mother. It’s my job to worry about you. Don’t keep me from doing my job.”

  “Okay. I won’t, Mom.” I pushed the afghan off my shoulders and stood. She met me halfway and we hugged. “I really am sorry.”