by Dana Davis
“Zoey? Can—hear me—see—Zoey?”
“What? Daisy?” Her heart leapt and she peered around in the blackness to find a place where the dark was just a shade lighter than before. An outline, wavering like heat above asphalt, appeared. She couldn’t see features but the shape looked female.
“—right here—been helping.”
“Daisy, is that you?” No, it’s him. She’s just an illusion. Like Aunt Mena was. Don’t let him fool you again, Zoey. “You’re not real. Leave me alone, you bastard.”
“Well, that’s a fine—talk—your cousin.”
The scolding tone caught her attention, as well as the misty image and the sputtering words like a bad cell phone connection. Aunt Mena’s image had been clear, as well as her speech. Zoey’s heart leapt again. Someone had helped her, added to her power. Please be real. “Daisy? Is it really you?”
“Yes—spells—go now—give up. Don’t—” And she was gone.
Zoey stared at the place where her cousin had been standing, and a new spark of hope lit in her. But the feeling didn’t last. Even with the witch’s help, she hadn’t defeated the Anguisher for good. As much as she would like to deny it, she would have to face him again. Avoidance just wasn’t an option, not while she was trapped here. In his world. Despair began to seep into her, and with what strength she had left, she shoved it away.
Daisy knows I’m here, trapped in this hell. And the witch will tell Jason. Jason. She began to feel deflated at their separation again. No. Don’t give up. Daisy will find a way to get you out. She has to. Something else nagged at her and she put thoughts of her cousin away for a moment. Okay, come on mind, work. After she’d pushed away the Gorgon, the Anguisher left too. But why. The conjoining. Something about the conjoining. Damnit, what?
Her mind seemed to slip. The memories she wanted stayed just out of her grasp. A hiccup of a sob found its way from her throat. I can’t do this. She sat on the living floor and wrapped arms around her knees. But something inside wouldn’t let her give up. Not yet. The box, maybe. Was she still connected to it somehow? She couldn’t sense it, at least not in any obvious way like in the real world. Was it helping her now? The box had to have something to do with Daisy finding her. She was certain on that. The thought excelled her bravery once more.
With effort of a woman in labor, she tried to free the information still buried deep in her memories. If she could sweat in this place, she would have soaked her clothing with the work it took to get at them. Finally, with heaving breath and weakness rising in her body, she plucked out the knowledge the Council had given her about the conjoining.
The Gorgon couldn’t maintain contact with the Anguisher for very long at any one time. And they both needed a rest period between confrontations to regain their strength. The Gorgon fed on suffering, but she came from the same world as Zoey, and like any paranormal, had limitations. What had the Anguisher promised in return for her help? A few innocent souls, perhaps?
Another thought hit Zoey like a frigid wind, waking her mind and feeding her strength. Why had the Anguisher done a conjoining against her in the first place, a new and inexperienced Dream Catcher? Why did he need help defeating her?
He’s afraid of me. Afraid of losing. Do I have that much power?
The witch had helped her. But how did Daisy know what to do? Trying very hard not to slap herself in the head like a cartoon character who’d suddenly remembered something very important, Zoey held her breath. The Native dreamcatcher, the one that hung above her bed. She’d had it in her hands when the Anguisher pulled her here.
So, where the hell is it? And why didn’t I remember it until now? Memories began to flood her mind like a dam bursting. The Council had mentioned it. Damnit. I need it for the conjoining. She crawled around the pulsating floor searching for it, until her knees and palms were sore but all she found was darkness. I must have dropped it. She began to weep.
After a few moments, she thought of Daisy again and sniffed back invisible tears. Stop sniveling, Zoey Vega, and suck it up. Your cousin knows you’re here. She’ll get you out. Somehow. That knowledge, combined with the thought that she might be stronger than the Anguisher, gave her some comfort, and exhausted, she lay on the living floor, no longer repulsed by it.
She dreamed. Becka Lipner’s house. A candle display. Zoey leaned forward. In each flame was the face of a child in agony. She reached out to one of the candles and someone slapped her hand. Beside her, a tall man with boils on his skin clicked his tongue and waggled a finger. Everything around her disappeared into darkness.
Zoey sat up gasping. She couldn’t see anything, and for a moment thought the dream was real, that the Anguisher had won. She shivered. Something caught her vision and she turned toward it. A tiny light, like a distant star, hovered someplace in the distance.
She blinked but it didn’t go away. Well, shit. There’s really something here. I’m not imagining it. She stood and stepped toward the light, a tiny but visible beacon in this oppressive darkness. Her throat threatened to close up and her eyes stung as a wave of hope swept through her. To her relief, the crying echoes that had haunted her faded to mere whispering. It had to be Daisy. And Bridgette was probably with her. The witches were doing this. Helping her find a way out. Her heart jumped. But how can I reach the light?
Despair threatened her again and she shoved it back enough to focus. With quite a bit of effort, she emptied her mind from everything except the distant light until only positive images flooded her head. Jason, sunlight, singing, Daisy, candles, Jason, the desert, Bridgette, home, love, Jason.
The Anguisher appeared, shaking her from her thoughts. He seemed perturbed. He also looked rested and that scared the crap out of her. She needed more sleep. More time. “You can’t think you’ll escape to that world again?” One robed hand flicked toward the distant light. “It’s gone from you now.”
So, that really is my way out. You just tipped your hand, Anguisher.
Zoey did her best to ignore his threats, when in truth the memories of the pain he and the Gorgon had caused made her bladder feel loose. She had tried to relieve herself in this desolate place, but her body seemed locked and all she could do was ignore her screaming bladder, rumbling stomach and dry throat. How long can I go without food and water? There’s nothing to eat or drink here. Even if there were, she doubted it would be wise to ingest anything from the underworld. Might get me trapped for good.
But she had a way out now. All she had to do was figure out how to reach it. Despite this revelation and the tiny beacon in the distance, sadness threatened her. She pushed at it, trying to keep hope in her mind. But the Anguisher’s voice penetrated her like a pin to a balloon and her focus waned.
“It’s hopeless for you, Catcher. You’re trapped here with me.” The light was too far away, so distant she couldn’t reach it. If only she had something to keep his voice from her ears. Covering them with her hands didn’t work. He stepped close. “Give in to me, Catcher. Give me what I want.”
“Never.” Daisy’s voice sounded along with her own and the woman’s image appeared in the darkness to her right, more visible than before, but still not more than a shadow.
This served to piss off the Anguisher even more and he called the Gorgon to him.
Claws reached out for Zoey but Daisy put herself in the way, blocking the Gorgon. The two faced off like superhero and villain. Zoey’s heart did a little trip that her cousin might just defeat the clawed monster of a woman. But that spark of hope dissipated when the Anguisher took Daisy’s attention and the two began to struggle, an odd light flashing now and again between them. This left the Gorgon free to go after Zoey. She punched and dodged and tried to grasp the claws to keep them from tearing into her skin but they were too strong.
They ripped through her flesh, the pain blinding her to everything but survival. She struggled and screamed for what could have been an eternity or mere seconds as the Gorgon sucked power from her again. Daisy cried out with her, gi
ving the Anguisher an opening to toss the witch to the ground.
“No!” In a blind panic, Zoey ripped herself from the Gorgon’s claws, screaming in agony all the while. She started for her cousin, who was shouting spells and struggling to get up, but the Anguisher stepped in her way. The Gorgon grabbed onto Daisy and, in a burst of anger, Zoey somehow got in a roundhouse kick to the Anguisher’s head. Pain shot through her foot and she remembered nothing more.
* * * *
Daisy cried out as she got to her feet in the underworld, shouting spells that let her powers flow and strengthened the link through the Native dreamcatcher to the Catcher box. Zoey’s agony felt as if it were her own and she fought to hold on. The Anguisher had shoved her down in a frantic attempt to get to the girl. Her strength waned dangerously and she felt light headed, but she couldn’t and wouldn’t stop casting.
How much longer could she hold on? Her mind began to slip and, in a brief flash, she saw her family room. She could feel her body in the real world, just as she felt this one in the underworld, a truly disturbing sensation and one that she didn’t want to dwell on just now. She gripped the Native ring hard between her hands and fed it again with another spell. The Gorgon got hold of her just as she got to her feet and she screamed out as the claws tore into her. Zoey cried out and started for her but the Anguisher suddenly blocked her view. Within her misery, she saw her young cousin kicked out and catch the Anguisher across the face with the top of one foot. The Gorgon cried out with him and dislodged her claws, raking another scream from Daisy’s throat. Both disappeared.
“Break the connection! Damnit, Daisy. Break the connection!” The voice sounded from a long tunnel. Bridgette?
The girl’s torment now gone, Zoey collapsed to the floor, chest moving up and down in faint rhythm. The Anguisher needed her alive so he wouldn’t kill her. But how many more of these sessions before he broke her? Drained and panting, Daisy released the Native dreamcatcher and let it fall, breaking her connection with her young cousin and plunging her senses back into the world of light.
The circular catcher with its web-like threads, colorful beads and dangling feathers landed on the glass top coffee table with a clank. The threads no longer glowed as they had when she was holding it, feeding it with her magick. But it had worked. With Bridgette boosting her power and Scarlet holding a door to the afterlife open, she had linked with Zoey, had seen and felt what the girl must face, the agony, the awful despair that hung in the air around her. The monstrous visage of the Anguisher and the devastating claws that belonged to the Gorgon. It—she—the Gorgon didn’t look anything like the Medusa legends, but that didn’t surprise Daisy, considering the way legends changed and morphed through the generations.
She turned to tell the rest what had happened, but unable to stay upright, much less produce a coherent thought any longer, she collapsed.
Chapter 29
Every Little Movement
When Zoey came to, darkness met her gaze. Surprise, surprise. Smartass thoughts helped keep her from running through the blackness, screaming like a madwoman. At least, that’s what she told herself. Some optimistic part of her had hoped she was in her bed, at home in Scottsdale, all this a terrible dream. No such luck.
Her enemies were nowhere that she could see. Thankfully. She’d fought them off again, barely, and doubted she would have succeeded without Daisy’s help. The two were somehow connected in this place. The witch must have figured out the conjoining. Lucky for me she’s a damn smart woman.
But Daisy was gone now, resting up for the next confrontation no doubt, and Zoey missed her presence. Memories of the pain she’d endured from both the Gorgon and the Anguisher as they tried to steal her power made her tremble, and she gained a new respect for her cousin. The witch didn’t have to be here, didn’t have to endure this torturous place. Yet, she came. Even after the pain began, Daisy stayed to fight. And Zoey had seen the pale scars on her cousin’s palms, a grim reminder of her last life and death battle.
Thoughts of her cousin gave Zoey hope, but guilt that she’d caused Daisy pain overlaid that emotion and turned it to anger. If she can come here knowing how agonizing it’ll be for her, then I can’t give in to him. The Anguisher’s vile face filled her memories. I won’t give in, you bastard! She thought a number of curses toward him. Some even bordered on creative.
The anger helped clear her mind and she now felt composed enough not to blubber like a lost toddler. Her bladder and bowels needed voiding and the emptiness in her belly hurt. No release. Not here. And no food. If the Anguisher kept her here, he would have to let her attend to her body’s needs, wouldn’t he? No doubt, this discomfort was part of his plan to get her to yield to him.
She got to shaky legs, wincing at the pain in her foot. At least I got in a good kick to that bastard. He must have left her alone after that. I can’t remember.
She gazed at the tiny light she’d discovered before the previous confrontation with her enemies, grateful it was real, and her mind turned to home, her family, and the natural wonders of the desert.
The images helped and she started walking toward the light, envisioning the nature trail in the wash near her home, the giant saguaro cacti that grew everywhere, and the mournful quail song that greeted her each morning. She took in a long breath, pretending to smell the distinct scent of the creosote bush after a monsoon and the heat of the sun on her skin. She didn’t bother to keep her hands out in front of her. Chances of bumping into something here were slim, maybe even nonexistent. Her eyes focused on the light. After the Anguisher’s comment about getting home, she was sure that was her way out.
She tried to hold on to encouraging thoughts, but her mind kept slipping back to the present and her situation. Her thoughts bounced back and forth between pleasurable images and the despair of this place, and she had trouble keeping her attention on the positives. Damnit. I need to focus. I need to get to that light.
With sudden determination, she visualized the Dream Catcher box, its ornate silver carvings and the turquoise jewels that alighted with her touch. For an instant, she saw the vortex. It blinded her—she’d been in darkness so long. It vanished as quickly as it appeared, leaving an imprint on her brain and several white spots in front of her eyes.
Holy crap. She had also caught a glimpse of the expanding darkness within the rainbow. It was much larger than before. The Anguisher was gaining strength. Well, no wonder, with me trapped in the fucking underworld. But the current epiphany demanded her thoughts just now. I can contact my box.
The positives outweighed the despair that surrounded her and her pulse raced with hope. She steadied her mind and focused on the box again. Nothing. It hadn’t been an illusion. Like the pinprick of light, it was real. It had to be real. She just needed to concentrate enough to get the image in her mind and hold onto it. She sat, pulled her knees up, and concentrated on the light. In her mind, its silver visage stood regally on her coffee table. The box appeared before her and she reached out. Sudden despair slammed into her gut and she lost the vision, along with her breath.
“Bad Catcher,” the Anguisher said, as though talking to a naughty puppy.
He couldn’t have recovered so soon, could he? Zoey stifled a cry as she struggled to her feet. She wanted more than anything to plead for him to go away, but she wouldn’t. It would only make him laugh. And Daisy wasn’t here to help her. He kept a respectable distance and crossed his arms as the silent howling faces erupted in his boils. When she saw no evidence of the Gorgon, she almost gave a sigh of relief.
“No more distractions for you, Catcher. I know what will keep you busy.” The Anguisher waved a hand in her direction.
In the air above her appeared a disturbing vision of two cars colliding. One, a silver BMW, plummeted into a canal. No. I don’t want to see this. An undeniable wave of hopelessness flooded her senses as she sucked in breaths to try and get oxygen into her lungs. But the vision kept repeating itself, even when she closed her eyes. She folded to t
he floor, curled onto her side in the darkness, and wept for her aunt and uncle.
* * * *
When Daisy awoke, Noah lay curled with her on the couch. He sat when she stirred and she gave him a reassuring nod. “Water. Please.” Without hesitation, Bridgette shoved a bottle into her hand and she drank as though she’d been wandering the desert several hours without liquid. Moments later, the bottle was empty and she felt better. Though she had a slight headache.
Oh, god. Zoey. “That bastard’s got her trapped in total darkness. He’s trying to suck out her power. Weaken her so he can steal hope from more people in this world. Damnit. And I saw the Gorgon. She doesn’t have snakes for hair but she’s got some nasty claws on the ends of those arms.” She fought a shiver at the pain those talons had caused. “Total bitch, if you ask me.”
Bridgette snorted. Her cousin had tried to connect with Zoey first but wasn’t strong enough. Thanks a heap for the power boost, Kachina, my friend. Daisy envisioned the antique doll that was now part of the Superstition Mountains, watching, protecting, and wondered just what other goodies it had left for her to discover about their former merger.
She gently extricated herself from Noah’s embrace and studied Bridgette, who appeared tired but not exhausted. Yet. The redhead had been feeding her power. She felt eyes on her and glanced around her family room. Jason sat on one of the floor pillows with Perky in his lap. Scarlet Mendoza reclined in a chair next to him, quietly watching Daisy. Jason’s parents—when had they arrived?--were at the dining table, both looking a bit haggard and she nodded to them. Jay had gone home sometime after midnight, but his mother, Fay, sat at the table with Jason’s folks. The older witch had come to see whether she could get any psychic readings for them. So far, nada on the readings. Fay looked almost as tired as Bridgette, her designer casual wear rumpled, not at all her usual manicured visage.
How long had they been at this? Daisy glanced at the gray light filtering in through the patio slider. Sunrise? Am I the only one who slept?
