by Jen Ponce
Zech nodded. "If there's an active one, then yes."
"Crap." I hadn't brought my purse, money, anything. "Can I make money? You know, magic some dollars?"
“No. That’s black magic,” Zech said, his lip curling.
It wouldn’t last anyway. Not here on Earth.
I looked at Zech. "I'm not sure how we'll get home."
The air shimmered in front of us. I yelled at Zech to run as figures materialized out of the hook that connected Midia to Earth. I'd forgotten about it, forgotten about Zech's worries. A silver flash spun toward me and I ran too. A spell? It wasn't. It was a bolo-type weapon and it wrapped with a whip of fire around my feet and dropped me.
Zech fell to the alley too. Again.
I rolled to my back and felt for the heart. The power welled up inside me and when it had built up enough I thrust my hands out toward them with a yell. Nothing happened. Nothing, what the hell? I yanked at the thing tangled around my legs but couldn't get it loosened in time. Rough hands grabbed me—damn people always grabbing me—and hauled me to my feet.
Zech yelled,then something exploded. A body flew past me. Had he managed to use the lodestone to draw some magic here? I didn't know, but someone still had hold of me. I swung my elbow back and connected with a gut. A grunt. I slammed my hand back and my knuckles connected with a nose. I didn't hear a crunch but the guy howled.
I twisted away and landed hard on my hip this time. I kicked at the thing around my legs as I looked for Zech. A man and a woman circled but I could see the ring of protection around him. Why oh why hadn't I spelled something for myself? I guess I had figured the heart would protect me.
'I need you, Neutria.'
She didn't need urging. She stretched. In the Slip, the change had hurt—here it killed me. At least I prayed for it to kill me. I guess the magic in the Slip had protected me somewhat but damn I was tired of pain. Sobbing, gasping, I huddled in the back of the spider's mind as she burst forth into being, the silver bolo falling to the ground. Why had she been able to access the heart but not me? What had I done wrong?
I think her touch blocked your access to the magic.
Neutria chittered, her hairy black legs raised, her fangs exposed and dripping with poison. The man she attacked had time to scream once before she sunk her fangs into his chest. I couldn't avert my gaze, I couldn't retreat, only huddle there feeling shamed that I had asked her to come forward. To kill for me.
Another scream. Neutria spun. Through her I saw a glowing aura of light surrounding Zech. The man was on the ground, the woman slicing at Zech with a sword. Why a sword? She should use a gun. Blam.
What side are you on?
'Sorry, sorry.' Still. I had a point.
The sword rang when it hit the wall behind Zech's head. He'd managed to duck out of the way, rolling to his feet to cast another crackling ball of energy as Arsinua had when I first met her. This one hit the woman in the chest and she crumpled to the ground.
In the distance, sirens screamed.
'We have to get out of here, Neutria. Fast.'
She didn't listen. Of course. Instead, she pounced on the downed man despite my protests and sunk her fangs into him as well. I tried to stretch, to take back my form, but she wouldn't let me. Here I didn't have enough strength. She wrapped the last man in silk and then skittered up the side of the wall, her gruesome burden in tow. Sickened, I tried to shut off my awareness of her actions. I concentrated on my kids. Zech. Prayed he'd managed to escape from both his killers and the cops.
Neutria hid the body on the rooftop of the building we were on and then proceeded to begin making her meal. Sounds civilized when I say it like that, doesn't it? Trust me. It wasn't. After the night I'd had, I would be lucky not to end up in a nut house, lying on a leather couch talking about my panic disorder, my post-traumatic stress disorder, my schizophrenia, my dissociative identity disorder.
When she was done, finally done, she crawled across the rooftops until we were well away from the alley. Then she lowered herself down before allowing me to change back into myself.
I was thankful that the magical process that allowed us to do such an amazing transformation also managed to leave me with the clothes I started with. It didn't make sense. In the movies I'd watched, werewolves woke up naked.
But hey, I was different, wasn't I? A were spider, not a wolf.
I limped down the street, hoping a cop wouldn't stop me. I had to look terrible—I felt terrible. My knee ached, my hip sung out in pain with each step and I couldn't forget the still burning ember in my collarbone, could I?
"How do I call him?"
The Skriven? You don't want to do that.
"Yes I do. I'm tired, I have no money, I can't jump in my world without owing that freakish monster and Zech is out here somewhere. You do remember him, don't you?" I looked like I was talking to myself. The homeless woman with a dirty stocking hat on despite the heat of the night gave me wide berth.
You'll be indebted to him even more.
"At the moment, I don't care."
You keep saying that. Soon he'll have you so wrapped up that you'll never escape. Your soul, your body. He will own you. Do you want that?
"I want to go home. I want my normal life back. I want my sucky, sad marriage that will end in a sucky, sad divorce. I want normal, damn it." I leaned against the side of a closed café, the brick still warm from the day's sun. I couldn't walk anymore. Didn't see the point.
Say his name. His true name. Tytan Serce. Call him as his Archaeon Tezrya. He'll come.
"Thank you." She didn't answer. I didn't care. I called his name, demanded his presence. In moments he appeared, looking too good, too heroic in my head.
"What the fuck did you do?"
I laughed. I slid down the wall and laughed until I cried.
Tytan crossed his arms over his chest, unmoved by my waterworks. "You pulled Skriven magic."
Laughter and tears dwindled to snorts, the tired amusement still hanging on even though it wasn't funny. My cheeks were wet. "Don't know how. Don't care. Just get me home."
He squatted down in front of me. "Ravana wants you for her own. You don't even want to know what that means." He ran his hand through his hair, a human gesture that looked strange on him somehow. Maybe I expected his hair to be an illusion. I giggled again.
"Humans and their weak minds." He laid his hand on the side of my head and at once a soothing calm flow over me. I sagged a little as my muscles relaxed under his ministrations. "Everything I do goes through Ravana. It's for her I made,” he paused, giving me a look. “Lucy. For her I made the new formless one that I plan to keep far from you." He shook his head. "Shit."
I nodded, too tired to speak. I needed sleep. "Where's Zech?"
"Hiding in an unlocked car a half a block away."
"Can you take me home? Get him to the shelter?"
"What do I look like, a nurse maid?" He slapped me on the cheek—not hard enough to hurt, only a few light taps. "What am I going to do with you? The only thing that saved you was our bond. Even she can't take away an Archaeon Tezrya. Lucky you." He held out his hand. I stared as if it were a brick, dung, or something just as incongruous. "Take it. I distinctly remember you ordering me not to grab at you."
My eyebrows rose. "And you're listening?"
His dimple reappeared. "Don't get used to it."
I took his hand and he pulled me to my feet, slipping an arm around my waist. "Home James," I said, slurring the words. When he snorted, I laughed again.
"Home. If you hadn't helped me so well tonight I would let Ravana have you."
His voice was low, sexy sounding. I leaned closer, inhaling his scent. In a moment I was back home. I stood by the bed, blinking. My tired brain clicked on. "Does she do to you what she did to me?" I pulled down my shirt. There wasn't a mark but it burned.
"It's different for us. Our souls exist separately from us." He nudged me and I fell into the bed with a breathless giggle. "No more wandering,
no matter how tempting or urgent."
I didn't move anything but my head, turning it to one side so I could breathe. "Zech won't want help from you."
"He won't be getting any, either. I'm not going into any more debt for a stupid git like him."
I lay there for a moment, and then groaned as I pushed myself up from the bed to fumble for the phone. "Where exactly is he?"
Tytan sighed, gave me the address and left, I guess before I could ask him anything else. I called a cab company and used my credit card to pay for the ride. Before I passed out, I asked Arsinua to get Zech a message if she could, to tell him to come out of hiding for the cab.
I didn't say anything more. I was too busy snoring.
TWENTY-ONE
The alarm clock woke me. I stared at the ceiling as I mentally checked over my body. Despite the hits I'd taken, I felt pretty good. I didn't even have the ravenous hunger I woke with these days. The night before fuzzed in my mind. Zech had been in trouble. I remembered a strange figure burning me with a touch, but that was it.
I pulled my shirt down, looking at the spot where the thing had touched me. A small red elongated circle marred my collarbone. I touched it and it flared hot. I shook my head and eased out of bed. I still wore my work clothes from yesterday and they looked as if they'd seen a war.
A vision of one of the deaths I'd witnessed hit me. The little golden haired girl. My stomach heaved. Deep breaths, I told myself. Let it go. Let it go. I needed to see my kids, to make sure they were all right. I stripped out of my damaged clothes and changed into my pajamas, a funny thing to do in the morning after I'd already woken up. I visited Bethy's room first; gazing at her sleeping form for a moment with a love so strong, it was painful. I woke her with a kiss then left her to her morning routine. Liam was awake, his hair wild, his sheets twisted and hanging off the bed.
"Rough night?"
He stared at me. "Yeah."
I couldn't read his expression but something wasn't right. "Feeling okay?"
"Are you?"
I sat on his bed. "What's wrong?"
He shrugged one shoulder and I stopped myself from sighing. Instead, I waited, staring up at his ceiling where he'd painted giant stars and swirling comets when he was eight. I loved it. Tom about had a cow. Smiling, I lay back on his bed and stared up at his colorful universe, thinking if only he knew about Midia. He'd go wild.
"Mom, what are you doing?"
"Shh. I'm flying past Mars." I waited. He said nothing. "Look! A face. Aliens are living on Mars. You see it?" He'd been fascinated when he'd seen the picture of the alleged face that had shown up on satellite images of the red planet. After that, his stories featured Mars or Martians and endless combinations thereof.
"Where did you go last night?"
I rolled to my side and propped my head with my hand. "Danni called. One of our clients was in trouble." I frowned, thinking. I'd left using the heart. I'd returned with Tytan. Why had Liam even missed me?
"Dad woke me up looking for you. He heard the phone too. But your car was still in the garage." His voice cracked as he said, "We looked all over the house for you. How'd you leave? By the window?"
Shit. Shit, shit, shit. How was I going to explain this? I was surprised Tom hadn't been waiting outside the bedroom door for an explanation. I would have been. Shit.
"Through the garage. Danni picked me up." I crossed my fingers.
"Oh." He looked relieved. "We didn't think of that."
Thank you, Tom. He'd always had a bad habit of leaving the garage door open, despite me nagging him about it. The door from the garage to the house didn't have a dead bolt although it was connected to the security system. "I'm sorry you guys were worried. I didn't want to wake you and you know how my job can be."
"You haven't done the hotline in a long time."
"True. But Danni took a liking to this new client. I told her I'd help out whenever she needed me."
"I like Danni. Even though she doesn't talk much." He scrambled out of bed, then leaned his body into pushing me off the bed. I shrieked, grabbing at the bottom sheet. "Got to get dressed for school. Go away now."
"Rude. You're a rude little boy." I fell dramatically off the bed but he didn't fall for my fakery and he forced me from his room.
Tom was downstairs, but he wasn't inclined to believe my story as readily as Liam. "Danni drove you? Danni who doesn't talk to anyone and is scared of her own shadow? That Danni?"
I stole a piece of toast from his plate before I remembered I was still mad at him. "She's taken a liking to this client. It's as if a whole new person is emerging from Danni's old shell." I chewed the bread, savoring the cinnamon, sugar, and melted butter. "And as I told Liam, I'm sorry I freaked you guys out. I was trying to be quiet about things so I wouldn't wake any of you."
He nodded, and then before I could move away or blink he enveloped me in his arms. I froze, then hugged him back, careful to keep my hips a safe distance from his. His body was warm, his scent familiar in a way that made me ache. "I love you," he said. "I love you. I'm so sorry I hurt you."
I patted him, staying silent, my body relaxing into him despite everything.
"Wow. You guys going to get back together?"
Bethany. I shook my head. "No."
"Yes," Tom said at the same time.
We looked at each other, and then Tom said "Maybe."
I thought, no.
Bethany shook her head and then stuck her head in the fridge. Fridays were find your own breakfast mornings. She made herself what she called a Scooby-Doo sandwich, which sometimes she ate and sometimes threw away with a stink face. Liam would have waffles and chocolate milk.
"You guys should have a trial separation," Bethany said, setting out the bread, mayo and other fixings.
Tom moved away from me. "Where did you hear about that?"
She smeared a glob of mayo onto her bread. "TV. And my friend Zoey's parents did that. They screamed at each other all the time. I'm glad you guys don't do that." She spread mayo on both sides of the bread and then stacked it on top of the meat and cheese she'd already piled.
"Even your mouth isn't big enough to eat that," I said and she practically unhinged her jaw to take a bite and spite me. I laughed, using the moment to move far from Tom. "I have to go get dressed for work. Have fun gnawing." I resisted rubbing her head; she'd been particular lately about her hair. I don't remember caring what my hair looked like when I was ten, but I guess I was weird. These days girls Bethy's age were getting spray tans and wearing makeup. So far, Bethany hadn't asked or tried anything of those things—as far as I knew—and so I wasn't going to mess with her hair. At least it was an innocent enough obsession.
Tom followed me. I said a bad word under my breath but let him come into the bedroom with me. "I wanted you to know Anabelle no longer works at the office.”
I didn't answer but made a mental note that I still hadn't made an appointment to be tested for STIs. I so didn't want to make that call, but I resolved to do it at work.
Nothing here. No sickness.
'Er, okay. How do you know?' I fiddled with the curtains, my mind split between Tom and Neutria.
I would feel it. Nothing here. Burned away in explosion. Burned away by heart. Don't know how. But I know there's nothing here.
Yeah. Would she be insulted if I made the appointment anyway? Touchy spider.
"I understand that you need time, but we should give it a try."
It sounded like the end of a long story. "Try what?"
"Dev, you know, you've been distracted like this since this whole thing started."
"Yeah, well I have a lot on my mind. Try what?"
He frowned then smoothed out his face. Having the upper hand had its advantages, including automatically winning minor fights. He said, "Try the marriage counselor. She's available any night of the week. Said she'd make us an appointment for whichever day we wanted. My insurance at work will cover it."
Marriage counselor? Ugh. I didn
't want to discuss this with a stranger, didn't want to peel back my emotions in front of a psychiatrist. "Maybe."
"Please. It would help. You and me. Even if we—if we don't work it out and stay together." Then he played his evil little trump card. "For the kids, if not for me, will you?"
I growled, frustrated. I tossed a pillow at him, which he caught, astonishment chasing his eyebrows up toward his receding hairline. "Fine. But I won't like it."
"I've never seen you like this before." He looked ... turned on.
"I've never been so damn fucking mad before. Betrayed. Hurt. Pissed off!" I remembered what Bethy said about her friend's parents screaming and lowered my voice. "I hate this. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it. And I resent you for putting me in this situation."
He stiffened. "What, you don't hate me too?"
"Don't tempt me."
He dropped the pillow. "I'll call her and let her know Tuesdays will work. Is that okay with you?" His words were clipped and stiff.
"You find the baby sitter."
He grunted and left, shutting the door with a small bang. I stuck my tongue out, an immature act that felt good, and then I stripped and dressed. Fridays were casual at work, so I slipped into a dark wash jean and one of the Caring Shelter fundraiser t-shirts. I slipped my feet into some jeweled flip-flops and rejoined the kids downstairs.
After breakfast, after the kids had charged out the door with Tom, who had offered to spare them from the bus this morning by giving them a ride in his rental. I tried Danni on my cell but didn't get an answer. I rang work and asked Louise if Danni had come in yet.
"No. She called and said she'd be late." Her voice sounded as puzzled as I felt. Danni was never late for work. She wasn't a saint by any means, but when she was scheduled, she was there. I thanked her and hung up, then asked Arsinua. 'Can you get in touch with Zech? Did he make it back to the shelter this morning?'
I can try. Wait.
I drove through the morning rush hour traffic, the radio low so that I could hear Arsinua. A Hummer cut me off so I laid on the horn. Stupid asshole and his big vehicle. Serve him right if his tire blew.
