The Trilogy of the Void: The Complete Boxed Set

by Peter Meredith

  It had been the very spell that had persuaded Pedro that she was the real deal when it came to witchcraft. She had chosen a rival gang member and sucked the life out of him with the spell. The demonstration had fulfilled its purpose, but it had also left a nasty taste in her mouth for dealing with the undead.

  And now here was William Jern alive without a soul. What could she make of that?

  "William, open your eyes." She spoke clear and loud, but his eyes remained closed. Amy tried again louder, "William Jern! Open your eyes!" Nothing happened.

  Gayle wiggled to her knees again, "What did you do to him?"

  Amy turned away, not wanting to deal with the woman. She was trying to figure out how to turn this to her advantage. One of the problems with the Mancipium spell was its relatively short duration. The gangbanger had started off as practically invincible, but over an hour-long period it had wound down, slowly losing its energy, until it finally just fell over and ceased to function.

  It was for this reason that she was so interested in William. He'd been stabbed over an hour previous, yet he still looked fresh. Sort of.

  "What did you do to him? You have to tell me," Gayle whined.

  Amy was tired and more than a bit cranky. She snapped her fingers at Diablo, "Shut her up."

  It wasn't a very specific order. Diablo grabbed the middle-aged woman and began slapping her across the face. Tied up, Gayle could do nothing and her eyes bulged and her screams split the air.

  "Stop it, you idiot! I said stop," Amy commanded advancing on the man. Diablo backed away, letting Gayle flop to the carpet where she rolled into a ball and began moaning. "Get the hell out of here. Go!" Amy was beside herself, enraged. She paced around Gayle for a few seconds, wondering at the stupidity of these idiot thugs. "Pedro, get your ass in here now."

  Pedro was there in seconds, dripping water onto the carpet and wearing nothing but a towel. "Yes ma'am."

  "Your men are fucking morons. If we lose the girl, I'm going to hold you personally responsible. Do you understand me?" The big Mexican paled considerably beneath his natural tan and he nodded with vigor. "Good. Now Katie could possibly show up at any time and we can't have her being warned off by people screaming in the house. Get dressed and then...then lay Mr. Jern on the couch and cover him with a blanket as if he were taking a nap. How's that Gayle? Is that good enough for you?"

  The woman only wept, crying into the carpet. Amy shook her head, and looked back at the big man. "Get her up. Put her in one of the chairs so that she can't be seen from any of the windows. When you're done with that, I want you to go around to each of your men and instill in them the fear of fucking this up."

  "Don't do it, Pedro," Gayle glared up suddenly. "If you do, you'll be dead by midnight. Run away instead. Take your men and run." Her words were spoken with such conviction that it sent a chill through Amy.

  The witch stared down at Gayle. "One more word and the gag goes back on for good." Gayle clamped her mouth shut but the defiance was nestled in her eyes to stay. For just a moment, Amy wanted to bring Diablo back in and have him smack the defiance out of her, but instead she twisted around to gaze at Pedro, judging his loyalty. "Here's the deal. We're waiting solely on the girl. When she shows up, we snatch her and take off."

  "Yes ma'am. Do we take the two of them?" He pointed at the Jerns. Amy didn't know. If everything went according to plans she wouldn't need them, but she couldn't exactly count on that happening.

  "I think so. She's going to be my backup plan if all else fails. I think if the sword takes a few more souls, the gate will open. It's just I'd rather do it the good ole fashioned way. Now make sure someone stands guard on these two every single moment. I want your man right here on this goddamn love seat and if they take their eyes off of her for a second, I want you to shove their balls down their throat."

  "Yes ma'am. May I make a suggestion? You should gag her right now."

  Amy smirked. In truth, the only reason that Gayle wasn't gagged was that Amy felt sorry for her. How funny was that? She hoped to become the ultimate power on the planet and still she felt pity. She was being stupid. "Good idea. Gag her and make sure it stays this time. I'm going to be in the back bedroom. Let me know when the girl shows up."

  She left Pedro, knowing that he'd do everything she had ordered, and slipped into the bedroom. The Ouija board was still out and Amy gave it a glance. Should she try to contact her mother to ask about William Jern? A great yawn erupted out of her as an answer. It made her eyes drip.

  Spell casting was more taxing than she would've ever guessed, but the spell that she had laid on Pedro was one of the worst. She had drained his strength and fed it into her, yet now she was exhausted. The spell was similar to a drug, in that it brought her to a great high but almost as quick, it also sent her crashing down.

  The witch was just too tired for the Ouija board, in fact she felt close to swooning. She went to the bed and within thirty seconds was sound asleep. It was deep refreshing dreamless sleep, one that her body needed.

  A light knocking woke her and for a moment, she couldn't figure out where she was. The room was dark save for a single sputtering candle and this only coated everything in shadows, making her surroundings even more unrecognizable.

  The knock came again and this time was accompanied by a fearful sounding voice, "Ma'am?"

  Right. She was at the Jern's home. "Do we have the girl?" She got up and flicked on the overhead ceiling light.

  "Not yet."

  What? On her wrist, she wore an expensive gold watch. The time was ten minutes to six. Amy was out of the room in a flash. "Is everyone still in their positions? Did you check that they were keeping out of sight?"

  "Yes, ma'am," Pedro sounded desperate to please. He had changed into what must have been a pair of William's sweat suits. Decked all in grey, he looked soft and far less imposing. "I woke you after checking each position. The men are all situated real good."

  The pain that Amy had been feeling earlier stabbed again into her stomach, she rubbed it absently, looking back into the bedroom. "Maybe I should consult the spirits." She liked being mysterious by saying things such as, maybe I should consult the spirits. It just sounded better than saying I'm going to go ask my mom. But she changed her mind quick. "Show me where the men are positioned."

  Pedro nodded and stood back from the door, not moving to show her as she asked. He knew better. Amy swept past him heading to the living room where William lay partially covered by a blanket and Gayle sat trussed up being watched over by Diablo. The older lady looked startled at Amy's sudden quiet appearance and froze statue like, sweat dripping off her brow.

  Amy barely gave her or Diablo a glance and went toward the family room that opened off the living room. Behind her, she heard Gayle begin to grunt loudly. Amy ignored it. The family room was smaller and cozier than the living room. It had tall windows and a glass door that looked out upon a deck. The room itself was nicely furnished with two long matching leather couches oriented on a television. A fully stocked wet bar took up one corner of the room and large portraits of the family adorned the walls.

  One of Pedro's men sat in one of the rooms big comfortable chairs facing out toward the deck. The man went by 'Jin' Amy recalled. "Anything moving out there?" she asked.

  "Nah," Jin replied with a shake of his head. Behind her Pedro snapped his fingers and Jin straightened slightly. "I mean no ma'am."

  The witch smiled inwardly at the man's attempt at manners and strolled past him staring out of the window at the beginnings of a very chilly dusk. Soon her men would be at a disadvantage—Katie being able to see in, better than they could see out.

  "Jin, come stand just to the side of the window. Right here," Amy ordered. "Pedro, make sure all of the lights are off in the house except the master bedroom and maybe one of the bathrooms."

  With that, she left, heading for the kitchen. Gayle kept her eyes down as she passed, making Amy smile again. "You there..." she pointed at a man in faded jeans. "
Amador, don't sit right there. You're too obvious. Move around the counter."

  Despite the fact Katie wasn't home yet, Amy felt good. She was rested, her stomach no longer hurt and she had actually remembered two of the Mexican's names. This was a small triumph for her. Both men hadn't been situated badly, it was just that as their leader, she felt it a good idea to bark out an order every once in a while to remind them of who was in charge.

  After going through the kitchen to the garage and checking on the man there, his name eluded her, she went back to the living room and paused. Katie would be along soon. Any minute in fact, her own mother had told her so. Yet all the same, sudden disquiet fluttered her heart.

  Heading toward the guest bedroom where her board still lay on the floor, she called over her shoulder, "Pedro, see that I'm not disturbed. I need to see what's keeping that damn girl."

  At this, Gayle began to go crazy, bucking and squirming, as well as grunting beneath her gag as loud as she could. Amy stopped and glanced her way, wondering if it would be worth her while finding out what the ruckus was about. She decided against it, but just then a drop of sweat stung her eye. "Pedro, one more thing, turn down the heat. You're roasting..." It was hot. Way too hot.

  Amy ran down the hall to the living room. The hell blade was no longer lying up against the wall as it had. "Where's my sword?" she screeched with her heart booming loudly in her chest. It had taken two seconds but she had gone from relaxed to almost literally panicked. "Who took my sword? Diablo, where the fuck is my sword? What did you do with it?"

  Diablo had hopped up at the first of Amy's screams and now he backed away shaking his head holding out his hands in front of him, "I no know. I no know."

  Pedro had heard the commotion from the kitchen and came running. "The sword? It was sitting right there, you know before." He pointed at the blank spot on the wall.

  "Before what? Goddamn it! I want that sword back right now. Get all your men in here and make it fast." Pedro took off, hissing in Spanish, calling to them. Amy began to pace in a fury. "Whoever took it is going to pay! I am going to fucking kill whoever did this."

  "Mmm...mmhm!" Gayle grunted. With a raging snarl, Amy turned to her, raising her hand to slap the tape off her mouth. However, Amy stopped with her hand raised. Gayle's eyes were smiling; she knew who had the sword.

  "Diablo, let Mrs. Jern see your knife."

  Chapter 16

  Katie

  At three twenty-six pm, the young blonde in the blue sweat suit looked back for a third time. Her eyes appeared bored and indifferent as if the long ride had dulled her senses as it had most of the other teens. It hadn't. She only pretended so. She sat near the front of the school bus as it bounced along the rutted roads and this was because, unlike most of America, Arizona was still hot even this deep into the school year. All the cool sophomores and some of the cute or personable freshmen who made up the in-crowd sat towards the front. The air condition was more effective there.

  The nerds and the forgotten sweltered in the rear.

  "It's so stinkin hot." Next to the blonde a rail thin brunette complained, "How can you stand to wear warm-ups when it's this hot out, Kate."

  Unlike her brother's long ago failed transition from Willy J to Will, Katie had begun calling herself Kate, two months before on the first day of her high school career and through sheer willpower and blackmail her new name had stuck, at least at school it had.

  "I'm fine. It's not even that hot, probably not even ninety degrees," she replied, seeing the sweat in Megan's hair. Since Katie's head was already turned she gave the back of the bus another glance, purposely maneuvering her eyes around Brad Tarleton's handsome face two rows back. He was, as always, trying to catch her eye and it was best if she just pretended that she hadn't noticed.

  Brad claimed to love her and was practically a stalker these days. It was a lesson learned for Katie; if you wanted a little fun, don't have it with one of your neighbors. On a not so chance meeting during the last week before school had begun, the two had fooled around pretty good. Now Brad was always prowling around looking for more, but that wouldn't happen. He had served his purpose. Katie, despite being tall and beautiful, sporting a tan the color of warm honey, had never so much as kissed a boy before. Brad, on the other hand was considered a lady's man by all his friends and never denied—and probably started—the false rumors that he had gone all the way at least twice.

  He seemed like the ideal boy for Katie's designs and she'd received the kiss she had wanted from him. It had been disappointing, clumsy, and amateurish. It was funny, despite her complete inexperience, she didn't blame herself in the least. She blamed his ill-deserved reputation. And that was a lesson as well.

  Katie refused to meet his eyes. Instead, she stole a look at a raven-haired girl sitting along the bus' rear axle. The girl had a flat round face with wide spaced dark eyes, and these were currently locked onto Katie's ice blue ones. They stared at each other until the black haired girl looked away. When she did, Katie continued to stare, examining her. The girl had a reddish brown tan. That was good.

  After a few seconds, she turned back to her friend. "That girl back there on the right. The one with the black hair and the white t-shirt, who is she?"

  Megan looked back in her most casual and secretive manner, which wasn't very secretive. "Oh, she's new. Her name is like Dominguez, Gomlinglez, or something like that."

  "Mexican?"

  "Yeah, I think."

  Katie dropped her voice low. "Does she have an accent? Does she sound like a Mexican?"

  "Yeah, I guess. Why? What's up?" Megan gave her friend an inquisitive look and then dropped her voice to a level just below conspiratorial, "You got a problem with beaners?"

  Katie's eyebrows went up, surprised by the question. She realized she must've allowed her undercurrent of suspiciousness to show. With an easy natural smile, she smoothed it away. "No, I don't have a problem with Mexicans. I was just curious as to who she was."

  "Well I don't really know her at all," Megan replied wiping a trickle of sweat from her forehead with the sleeve of her pink Izog shirt. "She's in Cindy's homeroom, so she's a junior. Did I tell you that I caught Cindy wearing my jeans again? My Jordashe jeans that I just got for my birthday. She's got a job; you'd think that she could buy her own clothes instead of swiping mine and stretching them out with her big butt."

  Megan went on talking for some time and Katie nodded her blonde head at all the correct pauses, but wasn't really listening. Her mind strayed briefly to the Mexican girl and decided she wasn't likely much of a threat and graded her a six. This wasn't about looks.

  This was about Katie's obsession with evil.

  After the time with the demon, Katie had carried on in her bubbly sweet fashion as if nothing had happened, and no one, not even her wonderfully brilliant father, knew any different. On the outside, she was the essence of sweetness, but on the inside she was cold steel. Those who knew her best, didn't know her at all.

  She had seen the demon. She had felt its questing tendrils taste her and long for her in the most horrible way. She had looked into that black pit, the gateway to the Void—and the experience had matured in a way that couldn't have been duplicated. It had also warped her in the same way. The world had changed for Katie Jern.

  Evil, once an ethereal, intangible concept had become for her very physically and spiritually real. At six-years-old, she had become obsessed with evil, and she strove to understand it. She knew that demons existed, but what about witches and vampires, ghosts and goblins, what about these? In secret, she read and learned all she could, including everything that had occurred and what was currently occurring with her family.

  It hadn't been easy, and in order to learn all she had, it took listening at keyholes, reading private letters and skimming through doctor's reports. In the end, she had found out the truth.

  Katie's mother was secretly convinced that their family was cursed. To her credit, Gayle had kept this secret buried deep,
but Katie divined the truth. And from the very start, she had shared her mother's conviction.

  They were cursed. How could it be called anything different? Her murderous sister had been driven insane. Her father was quite visibly dying, while her mother was dying as well, but just less noticeably. When William went, Gayle would go shortly after. And her brother, Willy J, with every visit he appeared to shrink, not physically, but spiritually. The dreams that he endured were corroding his very soul.

  Oh yes. They were all good and cursed.

  Yet everyone pretended otherwise. No one had ever spoken to her about the demon, nor had they mentioned Talitha's problems other than to say she was sick. The topic of her father's coming death was avoided altogether, as were the hell dreams. All of these subjects were strictly taboo. They were trying to protect her, to shelter her. They needn't have bothered.

  In her mind, the truth would have been a better shield to defend her.

  The bus braked in its usual jolting fashion and a number of kids got up and filed in solemn procession off of it. Brad Tarleton was among them. He gave her a wave and she gave him a smile, not wanting to be purposely rude, but it was also a small smile so as not to lead him on.

  "You coming to the Dojo tonight?" Adam Gustafson asked as he passed by. He was a tall gangly sophomore and they took Taekwondo classes together. He loved her madly and had since she'd moved out to Arizona during the second grade.

  Her homework load was light and though she had run four miles that morning she was up for another workout. "Yep, I'll see you there." There was no question that he was going. If she went then he went. He would accept a pummeling at her hands as if she were doling out kisses.

  Like everything else in her life, her karate was fueled by her warped obsession and thus she was far from the ideal student. If her sensei hadn't needed the money, he likely would've kicked her out of the class after her first year. She barely took any time to learn the flowing ballet like Katas, or in fact any techniques that she felt would be suspect in a fight. These would include any of the fancy spin moves, where an odd landing could put her at a terrible disadvantage.