by Dana Davis
“Did you get a look at the Anguisher too?”
She met Bridgette’s tired gaze. “Oh, yeah. Ugly bastard.” She fought a shiver at his pasty skin and those disgusting, erupting boils. The faces within the boils gave silent howls whenever he moved. Tortured souls, perhaps? Real or not, they left a most disturbing imprint on Daisy’s brain. Poor Zoey. At least I can come home when I want.
Scarlet sniffed and narrowed dark eyes on her. “You’re one crazy ass woman. You know that? Especially since you don’t know what the hell you’re doing.” She held up a brown hand when Daisy started to protest. “I know Zoey’s in trouble and there’s not a damn thing else we can do to help her. But I still think you’re a floor shy of a skyscraper. I’m a medium and you don’t see me skipping off to a confrontation in the underworld.” She shook her head but those dark eyes held respect. “You got balls, witch. Big, fat, brass ones.”
Daisy opened her mouth then closed it again, not knowing just what to say. She wouldn’t have expected Scarlet to volunteer for a conjoining. Other than creating portals to contact the afterlife and control the dead in a limited capacity, a medium had little power and certainly couldn’t fight off someone as potent as the Anguisher. I wouldn’t have done it, either, if it hadn’t been for Zoey. A tiny voice in the back of her brain said, You sure? Only because it’s Zoey? What if it had been some other young woman in trouble with the Anguisher? Another Catcher trying to keep hope alive? She frowned and forced those thoughts aside.
Noah draped his arms around her. “You okay? I was worried about you, babe. Am worried about you. Scarlet’s got a point. The underworld’s not a place for the living. Even a strong witch.”
He felt good. Right. His muscles contracted as she looped her arm around his and leaned her head against his shoulder. Computer jockey, yes, but Noah stayed in shape. She wanted to melt against him and forget all the evil that seemed to find her these days. But her old, contented life had ended several months ago. Sure, she was happy. But being a paranormal in this world came with a price. Especially for a witch who’d been granted extra powers from an ancient protector. She didn’t have to like it, though.
She took in a long breath, pulled back, and placed a hand on Noah’s cheek. Rough whiskers met her touch and she traced his lips with her thumb. “I’m fine.” For now. “But Zoey won’t be if we don’t get her back here soon.” She fought the urge to look at Jason. The boy had been so quiet since his betrothed went missing. One problem at a time, witch. You’re not a god.
Noah took her hand, turned it over, and kissed her scarred palm. “We’ll get her back.”
She gave a tired smile and reached for the Native dreamcatcher again. “I hope so. You hear me box? I hope so.”
The Dream Catcher box sat open, just as it had since Zoey had gone missing, but it was silent to her. Always silent.
Chapter 30
The Catcher and the Star
Once Zoey had spent herself of grief, for the moment anyway, she sat and rested her chin on her knees, arms wrapped around her shins. The car crash hadn’t been an accident. The Anguisher had murdered Aunt Mena and Uncle Alex. Somehow, the bastard was responsible. Probably got some depressed schmuck and had him do it as a murder-suicide. Like when he got Becka to attack me.
Had the other driver even known he was going to take lives besides his own? Had he even intended to take his own life? She didn’t read the papers after the accident and couldn’t bring herself to watch the news about the crash. She didn’t even remember the other driver’s name. Had she ever known it? He was dead too, so what did it matter? Did his family suffer as much pain as Zoey felt? She’d never even thought about his family until now.
Three lives lost that night and a track meet Zoey would never finish, the last race of her senior year. After that day, she refused to run anyplace but the streets and trails around her home. It was a miracle she’d even graduated and continued on to ASU. But no matter how much it hurt, how many times she’d wanted to lie down and give up, something wouldn’t let her quit. The Dream Catcher box? Was it influencing her even back then? Had to be. It wouldn’t let her die until she had a daughter to take her place.
Or if I refuse to be Catcher any longer. In fact, she didn’t even know if she could refuse now, after being bonded to that damn box. Anger swelled at how her life had been manipulated. Damnit! I don’t want this job, but I can’t quit without creating one bitch of a world. As she thought about the Anguisher, her anger quickly morphed into rage. I’ll kill the son of a bitch.
Several images flashed through her mind, visions of the pain and suffering she would inflict on him once she was free. And she would make certain he experienced every excruciating moment until death gave him a final release.
She swallowed hard. I can’t kill him. Balance. Light and dark. Good and evil. Fucking balance. The world needed him as much as it needed a Catcher. He had to exist for Zoey to stay alive and for the world to remain in some semblance of order. Our lives are intertwined now. Shit, shit and double shit. Zoey took in measured breaths to calm her emotions but she still wanted to hurt the bastard. I’m no monster. I can’t become like him. But she wanted to. She wanted to take away the ones he loved, make him suffer and cry out in agony. And she wanted him dead.
The tiny light beckoned, turning her thoughts to more productive matters, and she silently thanked it as she walked toward it. I have to get out of this place. She quieted her mind and envisioned the Catcher box. A glimpse of something touched her sight, but the link dissolved as quickly as she’d made it. She tried again without luck. Maybe I’m just not concentrating enough. I’m so fucking tired. And famished. And I really, really have to pee. She squatted and tried to relieve herself, but like the other times, nothing happened. Her body was still locked. Okay, Zoey, don’t think about that stuff. If she got closer to that light, maybe she could hold the link long enough to figure out an escape.
That thought hadn’t even settled when the Anguisher shimmered into existence a few feet in front of her. His wicked smile no longer struck fear in her. Well, not debilitating fear, anyway. In fact, she wanted to punch that fucking smirk right off his face, give him another roundhouse right in the old puss. But he kept out of her reach. For now.
In defiance, she kept walking toward the light. The Anguisher didn’t seem amused in the least. In fact, he looked fairly pissed that she was defying him.
Only then did the thought of exactly what she might be doing rattle her. I’m heading toward a light. Shit. Is it that light? The fucking light? Oh, shit, shit. This is the underworld, Zoey. How the hell do you know that light isn’t death itself? But the Anguisher wouldn’t want her to die. The Fates would destroy him as well. Is that why he doesn’t want me to get to it? Certainly, the box wouldn’t allow her to just walk right into death. Would it? She took in a deep breath, choosing to believe the light was her way home and not the way to the afterlife. Keep walking, Zoey. Just keep walking.
The Anguisher paced her and she didn’t have to look at him to sense his anger. Well, good. Serves the bastard right. Jason had always called her a rebel. But what would that rebellion earn her now? She fought terror at another episode of “Torture the Catcher” and forced her legs to keep a steady pace toward the light, hoping the Gorgon wasn’t waiting for her in the dark someplace.
She concentrated on the light and tried to ignore the pallid figure near her. I’m not his damn puppet. She squinted. The light was growing larger. Her heart lifted and the brightness swelled along with it. It is the doorway home!
She swallowed hard to keep herself from shouting and kept a measured pace, careful not to let elation show on her face or in her movements. The Anguisher didn’t seem to sense her thoughts now. Maybe he wasn’t a telepath, just a good judge of body language. She held herself erect, but not too much, and kept her pace steady, though her heart seemed to gallop like a derby horse. She begged the Fates to let her get to the light. But how would she get through that doorway once she reached it?
No time for that, Zoey. Just keep walking. And keep thinking good thoughts. A famous children’s story popped into her head. Maybe I can fly too! She smiled inside but kept her face fixed. The Anguisher followed alongside her, as though they were on a leisurely walk around her neighborhood. So, the Gorgon hasn’t recovered, yet. Or I’d be screaming right about now. Thank the Fates for small favors.
“You’ll never get away from me, Catcher. Your destiny lies here.”
An image of her aunt and uncle’s car going into the canal appeared in a loop, playing over and over in front of her, pacing her. Zoey swallowed hard against the grief, quelling it with anger, a slow burn that ignited her insides, causing her stomach to churn. I won’t let the bastard win. I can’t.
She kept up that mantra until she was able to look through the disturbing image and keep her focus on the light. In the real world, her aunt and uncle were gone. This image didn’t harm them. It was two years ago, the past. They’re at peace now, off with the Fates. Maybe living in some kind of heaven or preparing for rebirth. Zoey had no idea. She’d never given much thought to the afterlife.
It’s the past. I can’t change the past. I can only affect the future. She blew out a long breath as she walked, imagining her grief following it. Soon, she was able to watch the crash without the grief tearing her apart. If I don’t protect hope, then they died for nothing. She pictured Aunt Mena and Uncle Alex’s smiling faces, the way they looked when they were proud of something she’d accomplished. I’ll make sure your deaths mean something. I promise.
When the Anguisher realized she wasn’t going to fold to the ground in a weeping ball, he stepped in front of her, barring her way to the light.
Instinctively, she swung a fist and nailed him in the jaw. His boils squished against the contact, making her stomach roil. Though she couldn’t puke here, she swallowed hard anyway and prepared for another swing. Unfortunately, she hesitated too long and he grabbed her and wrenched her arms painfully behind her back. She grunted and struggled but he was too strong. His hot breath crept along her throat and his body felt feverish against her back. She relaxed just a bit to make him think she had stopped fighting. When his grip loosened slightly, she stomped on his foot and he cried out. But instead of releasing her, he tightened his grip and she moaned at the pain.
“You little Catcher bitch. I’ll take you apart slowly, in pieces. Leaving just enough to keep you alive. But you’ll beg me for death, little girl. You’ll plead and beg and I won’t give it to you.”
Her heart hammered at this serious miscalculation. Fear swelled and she struggled against him again until he finally released her. Before she could regain her balance and run toward the light, the Gorgon appeared. Zoey screamed for what seemed a very long time.
* * * *
Daisy sat on her couch, gripped the Native dreamcatcher and uttered the spells, along with Bridgette, that allowed her to create a portal through the Dream Catcher box and connect directly with Zoey. When she arrived in the underworld, the Gorgon had those horrible claws in Zoey’s flesh and Daisy screamed along with her cousin.
Her mind threatened to go numb, give in to the pain, but she couldn’t. Zoey needed her. And the world needed a Pandora. She cried out a protection spell and pushed power through the link toward Zoey. The Gorgon started to pull back her claws but the Anguisher got hold of Daisy’s arm and twisted, causing more pain and severing the protection spell an instant before she could fully establish it. Damn it! Anger swelled, along with a good amount of determination, and she pushed through the pain long enough to send a nettle spell toward the man. Piggy-backing spells had more success here than in the real world.
The nettle spell got the Anguisher’s attention and he released her, his boils screaming in silence with his every move. Before she could utter another spell, a vision of her mother’s head-on collision filled the air in front of her. It repeated over and over in some kind of sick loop.
“Bastard!” Was this how he tortured Zoey? The poor girl had lost both her guardians in an auto accident.
Daisy tried to resist. Tried to wrench her eyes free and concentrate on the spells, but her focus waned as unbridled grief took the place of anger and she began to wail. Zoey gave a final scream and suddenly Daisy was back in her family room. She dropped the Native dreamcatcher and collapsed in Noah’s arms, weeping.
* * * *
Exhausted, parched and starving, Zoey lay on the living floor, too spent to cry anymore. She’d survived another round with the Anguisher and the Gorgon. Barely. Daisy had screamed just before she had disappeared, leaving Zoey to deal with her enemies all alone. Her enemies had continued for what seemed an eternity, sucking power from her, until their conjoining link weakened. Daisy hadn’t been back since. The Anguisher must have hurt her cousin, done something so terrible that she didn’t want to return. Or couldn’t return. Why else would she abandon me?
The tiny light had dimmed and Zoey twisted her aching head to study it more closely. Her entire body hurt. Every muscle, every hair, every nail. Every fucking piece of her. Her mouth needed moisture, her stomach ached and her bladder screamed.
Despair tapped at her senses from the darkness all around but she didn’t try to push it away this time. If she gave the Anguisher what he wanted, maybe he would take pity on her, feed her, let her bathe and relieve herself. He needed her alive. How long have I been here? The thought of living like this for years, perhaps eternity, made her want to heave. And I can’t even do that.
The light was now a pinprick, a tiny spot, like a faint star in a black and otherwise starless sky. I can’t reach it. Despair thickened in the air around her. Daddy’s gone. Aunt Mena and Uncle Alex are gone. Mother doesn’t care about me. Jason—well, Jason’s young. He can always find another girl. Even if I’d managed to get free, I probably would’ve been too damaged for him. Daisy and Bridgette have their own lives. I’m nothing but a burden to them. Even a witch can only stand so much pain.
“I’m so sorry, Daisy.” She barely heard her own voice in the darkness now. “I never wanted you to get hurt. Please forgive me.” A quiet sob left her throat. “Jason, I love you. I’m sorry I couldn’t have just said yes. You’ll make a great husband one day. I know you will. And I’m sorry to you most of all Aunt Mena. But I can’t do this anymore. Please forgive me. Please.”
Zoey let go and opened herself to despair. It was so easy to do. Far easier than fighting.
Chapter 31
Twinkle Twinkle Little Star
Daisy finally got control over her grief and rage made her hands tremble. “Damn it! Damn him! That rat bastard!”
“Calm down, honey.” Noah held her on the couch. “Please, tell me what happened.”
She took in a deep breath as she stared at the Catcher box. “He’s been showing Zoey her guardian’s death scene. Over and over in some kind of loop.” She looked into Noah’s worried eyes. “He did it to me. With my mother.” Noah’s jaw worked and she placed a comforting hand on his arm to quell his anger. He could do nothing against the Anguisher. His anger wouldn’t help anyone. “I’m all right. Really. I’m more angry than grief stricken now. It’s that place. It magnifies despair. Even closing my eyes, I could still see the crash. He’s been doing that to Zoey. God, Noah, she’s just a kid. And she’s in trouble. I could feel her slipping.”
“Slipping?” Jason sat on the floor pillow in front of the coffee table and he leaned forward. “Slipping how?”
Well, now that I’ve opened my big, fat mouth, I may as well tell him. He’s in this too. We all are. “I’m sorry, Jason. He’s getting to her. She’s been fighting up until now. But no one can hold out against that kind of assault forever.” And she certainly can’t do it alone.
Her body felt weak, like after the previous conjoinings, and she didn’t dare try to stand. Her legs wouldn’t hold her. She glanced at the clock. Mere minutes had passed since she’d returned. Time was slippery in the underworld. What seemed an hour there was really minu
tes or seconds in the living world. The Anguisher’s disgusting visage popped into her head and she wanted to stay right here. Safe in her home. In Noah’s arms. One look at Jason helped push those selfish thoughts away.
“I have to get back.” May the universe help me. I have go back to that awful place. She picked up the Native dreamcatcher and held it between her trembling hands.
Bridgette placed fingers on Daisy’s wrist and shook her head. They couldn’t reach the girl. Not again this soon. Each conjoining drained Daisy’s strength, no matter how long or short of a time she remained in the underworld, even with Bridgette adding power to her own. And the last connection had been severed. She would have to wait.
I haven’t been back long enough to recover. She stared at the silver box that sat on her coffee table. I’m sorry, Zoey. I’ll get back as soon as I can. Please, hold on. Don’t do anything stupid.
* * * *
Despair surrounded Zoey as she woke in the darkness. She had tried to allow it in, let it take her. But something inside had recoiled at it. Some part of her wasn’t ready to give in and she had slept instead. The living floor pressed into her hipbone as she lay on her side and she shifted her weight. Something cool and light touched her chest. At first, she ignored it. It moved, tickling her collarbone, and she stuck a trembling hand to the neck of her shirt.
The ring from Daddy. Even unable to shed tears, her eyes stung. He was gone. A long time ago. But he’d bought her this ring. She remembered the photo of him holding her as a baby, the ring on her tiny finger, the loving smile on his face. He would want her to fight. Somehow she knew he would. And if he was in my place. He would suffer for me. He loved me. She took strength from the love she imagined him giving. Courage swelled, along with hunger and thirst, and the need to relieve herself cramped her stomach.
With a lot of moaning and grunting and cursing, she managed to get to a sitting position. Despair seemed to trickle out of her with each movement and she was suddenly ashamed that she’d tried to give herself up to the Anguisher. Ashamed that she’d thought Daisy had abandoned her. The witch knowingly put herself in danger to help. The witch would be here if she could. She wouldn’t abandon me.
