Why hadn’t she done it with Jenny’s dad?
“I—I don’t know, exactly. I just pushed my energy into him. But I had no idea if it would work or not. I’ve never done anything like that before. I don’t even have any idea how it worked.”
The bathroom, small and tight, made them stand very close together. Jenny had never been uncomfortable with her best friend, but things were a little different now, weren’t they?
“Why didn’t you try it with Jorge?”
A startled expression passed across Mecca’s face, but only for a moment. “Honestly, I didn’t think of it.”
“Is that because he’s—” She stopped herself. “Was… Is that because he was Visci?”
“What? No.” Mecca seemed genuinely surprised. “I would have tried it with him if I had thought of it.”
“But you want to kill Visci.”
For the first time with this topic, Mecca looked almost sheepish. “Yes, I did. But he was your friend. And if I could have helped him, I would have.”
Jenny considered this, and she hoped it was true.
Mecca searched her eyes. Jenny didn’t know what she was looking for.
“I didn’t have to help Oliver,” Mecca said.
“No. I guess you didn’t.”
She wanted to ask the question about her dad. Wanted to ask very badly. But she was afraid of the answer. What if the answer was “no, I didn’t try”?
Mecca leaned against the counter. “I need to tell you something.”
Her voice was so serious, so grave, that Jenny pushed aside thoughts of her dad and focused on her best friend.
“The man who came into the office. The one who hurt Oliver. I know him. Sort of.”
“What do you mean ‘sort of’?”
“I think Claude is behind the lab.”
How had she made that connection? “I don’t follow.”
“The guy in the office. He’s Claude’s. There would be no reason for him to be there unless this was Claude’s operation.”
If the guy who beat up Oliver really worked for Claude, then Mecca was right. “And there’s no chance that he’s doing this on his own? The dude in the office?”
“I doubt it. I got the idea that he doesn’t fart without Claude’s permission.”
“How do you even know him? The guy?”
Mecca’s brow creased. “Because he helped me escape Emilia.”
If Jenny felt she wasn’t following before, now she wasn’t following for sure. It must have shown on her face.
“Claude was one of the people who watched me while Emilia had me chained to the bed. When I got free and was trying to find my way out, I ran into a room. Claude and this guy were there. Claude told me how to get out of the house and off the property.”
“Why would he do that?”
Mecca shook her head and shrugged. “But when I got to the back gate, Salas came and lured the guard away so I could get out.”
None of that made any sense. Jenny was sure it was true, but why?
“Those scenes play over and over in my head,” Mecca said. “And the only thing I can think of is that Claude was working on his own plan. I mean, that’s got to be the answer, right?”
Mecca was really asking, her tone almost imploring.
“I guess,” Jenny said. “I can’t figure out another reason. I mean, he told my mom he took care of Emilia, so—”
“Wait, what?”
Jenny didn’t understand what part of that was confusing. “Yeah, he didn’t say he’d killed her, really, but he said he took care of her.”
Mecca scoffed and shook her head. “Of course he did.”
“What do you mean?” Jenny was getting tired of feeling confused.
“I killed Emilia,” Mecca said, flatly. “He didn’t ‘take care’ of her. I killed her.”
Not breathing for a moment, not even blinking, Jenny stared at Mecca. “You killed her?”
“Yes. In the woods at the back of the property. I went back—which was so stupid—and she was there. We fought. I won. Claude was there too. He…sort of helped me, even then.” She shook her head again. “I don’t get his angle.”
“I don’t either.” Jenny knew nothing. But it was something to say. “That’s why you ran after him. Because you didn’t want him going back to Claude.”
Mecca nodded. “We’re fucked once Claude finds out. I’m not sure what he’ll do.”
“This guy, is he Visci?”
“No. He’s like Oliver. Attached. Only I expect he’s been attached for a lot longer, because the grey was everywhere. It was almost black.”
“The grey?”
Nodding, she said, “When I look at someone’s Cavern—that’s where their soul lives—people who are attached to Visci have these grey snakes going through their soul, holding it down. And he had a lot of grey snakes.”
Jenny thought on this for a minute. How incredible was this thing Mecca could do? She wanted to ask a million questions, wanted to find out how her soul looked. But before she could speak, Mecca raised a hand, as if she recognized what was in Jenny’s head.
“We need to figure out what to do about Claude.”
Jenny put her curiosity on pause, though it was not easy. “Maybe we should go to my mom. Get the Council involved.”
“I don’t know. Have they ever done anything good?”
A very stark question. Jenny had no idea whether or not they had. But this was way bigger than Jenny, Mecca, all of them. “I don’t think it would be a bad thing to talk to Mom. She’s known Claude all her life. She might have an idea what to do.”
“Are you sure she’s not on his side?”
Mecca’s tone didn’t hold accusation, but Jenny couldn’t believe she would even ask.
“What the hell, Mecca?”
Raising her hands, palms out, Mecca shook her head. “No, no. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I only meant that if they’ve been friends for a long time. It’s possible she hasn’t seen this side of him.”
“I don’t think they’re friends.”
“Okay. Okay.”
Jenny ran her hands over her face. God, this sucked so bad. “So do we tell them about Salas?” She tilted her head toward the door to the apartment.
“I’m not sure.” Mecca’s dark eyes looked at her for a long time. “Do we care anymore?”
“What?”
“What if we just let Claude do whatever he’s going to do?”
The thought horrified her. “We can’t.”
“Why not?” She wasn’t being argumentative. Jenny understood when Mecca wanted to pick a fight. She didn’t sound like that now. And that surprised her a little, considering they were talking about Visci.
“Mec, he wants to poison Hybrids.” She poked herself in the chest. “I’m a Hybrid.”
Mecca leaned away, thinking this through. Then she nodded. “Okay. Okay. You’re right. We should keep going.”
“Besides, we’ve still got to find Helen.”
“Helen?”
“Yes, my friend—other friend—who’s missing? We talked about it back at Sara’s?”
“Oh shit, yes. I forgot.” She tilted her head. “Do you realize that you are having something of an epidemic of friends being kidnapped? What is it about you?” She cracked a smile at the last moment.
Even though it was a joke, there was truth to it. “That’s weird, isn’t it?”
“So weird.” She paused. “I’m sorry about Jorge. I really am.”
“Thanks,” Jenny said, trying very hard not to feel anything. So much death.
“And I’m really glad we’re all okay,” Mecca said.
“Me too. And Oliver. Thank you again.”
Mecca smiled. Jenny leaned forward and wrapped her in a hug. And when Mecca hugged her back, it was all she could do not to burst into tears. How much had she missed having her best friend in her life like this? It wasn’t something she’d realized until quite this moment.
Mecca pulled b
ack. “Let’s go see if Sara can crack that laptop. And then we’ll find your friend.”
Epilogue: Four Days Later
The pews in St. Mark’s were more crowded than Jenny would have thought. She didn’t realize Jorge had such a large family. The first four rows on both sides of the aisle were crammed full of what she assumed to be his relatives. People ranging from ancient to infants. She wondered how many of them were Visci and how many human. Most human, she guessed.
An African American priest stood at the lectern and spoke about redemption and God.
In the second seat on the center aisle side of the ninth row, she realized she hadn’t expected their whole little group to come. She thought it would only be her and Zoey, who sat beside her, on the aisle. But Mecca had come, so she had her best friend on her other side. Will was next to her. Oliver and Sara sat directly behind them.
That they all showed up had brought tears to Jenny’s eyes when they first arrived. They didn’t have to come. But they had. That meant something.
Cool fingers grasped her right hand gently. When she looked to her right, Mecca caught her gaze and gave her a supportive smile. With the difficulty between them lately, that smile, that grace, more than anything, helped her heart.
Zoey’s hip, pressed against her own, vibrated. A normal sound. Usually a quiet sound. But here, now, in the church’s silence, it was louder than Jenny ever could have expected. The people in the row in front of them turned around and gave them stink-eye as Zoey pulled the phone from her pocket.
Who leaves their phone on in a church? At a funeral, even? Jenny completely agreed with the stink-eye. But Zoey clearly didn’t care.
Zoey swiped the phone to open it, and Jenny peered at her. But when Zoey’s face when stark white, Jenny looked at the phone screen. It was a long text, and she only caught a few words before Zoey jumped to her feet. She rushed down the aisle and out.
The text said:
Unknown: Do NOT reply to this. It’s Helen. I need hel…
THE END
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Acknowledgements
As always, I am incredibly grateful for the support I get from everyone around me. Some folks earn a special shout-out:
Much thanks to Mark Binicewicz for his knowledge of TASERs, guns, and overall badassery.
I’m indebted to Heather-Leigh Owens Nies, Mags Nightingale-Mellema, Stacy Christie, and Elegant Pamela for their input on the story in early form. They’re great beta readers!
My proofreader, Melissa McArthur, came through for me in a bind, and I can’t convey my gratitude enough for that.
Any and all errors are my own and not a reflection on the wonderful folks who’ve helped me along the way.
We’ve got another novelette and then the third novel of the series coming up. Stay tuned! ☺
Venessa G
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The Soul Cavern Series
Jivaja
Blue-Edged Soul
Visci
Venessa Giunta
Venessa Giunta is a writer of weird things. She holds an MFA in Writing Popular Fiction from Seton Hill University and has worked on the editorial side of publishing for a decade. Her non-fiction essay “Demystifying What Editors Want” can be found in the book, Many Genres, One Craft.
She is active in convention life, having held a number of organizational positions over the years and is currently Director of the WRITE Track at Multiverse Con in Atlanta, and Second to the Director of the Writers Track at Dragon Con, a SF/F fan convention with more than 80,000 attendees.
Venessa lives with her hubby in Atlanta, Georgia, and shares a home with three cats who all seem to think they rule the castle, but none of which pay the mortgage.
Follow her on Twitter @troilee or check out her website at https://www.venessagiunta.com/, where you can find lots of good info for writers, especially.
Visci (Soul Cavern Series Book 2) Page 23
