Storm: a Salt novel (Entangled Teen)

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Storm: a Salt novel (Entangled Teen) Page 22

by Danielle Ellison


  I scratch at my arm. It’s almost like the void is alive and flowing through me. It’s never felt like this before, this uncontrollable. Walking doesn’t lead me anywhere I recognize from the other night, and I turn down one of the V-split streets. The smell hits my nostrils immediately, the scent of sulfur so strong it feels like I’m standing in it. The bar must be closed now for it to be that strong.

  I pay closer attention to the buildings as I walk, trying to find things that look familiar, but I don’t get very far. A demon jumps out from the shadows in the small space between buildings. Its nails carve into the skin on my shoulder before it slams me against the brick wall of the building. The void bubbles and fills me, on the brink of running over, like my stomach is a pot of boiling water.

  “You sm—”

  “Smell good, I’ve heard,” I say.

  The demon smiles, sniffing my neck. “I’ve heard about you.”

  “Let me go,” I say. Being near this demon makes my insides go crazier. It moves closer and I knee it in the stomach. It lurches away from me, but then, out of nowhere, three more appear. I stand straight up as one of the demons races toward me. The magic billows like a storm. If the void wants out, then I’ll let it out.

  I don’t even have to aim. I stop fighting it, stop feeling any sort of emotions, let go of Carter and Ric and Gran, and my dreams, and all the people and things that have failed me. I don’t need them, or want them. A second later the magic is flowing out of my fingers, bright and beautiful and seductive. This time, it’s not too bright for me to see. Not like with Connie. This time it’s clear, and I’m present. All three of the demons go flying across the alley. I feel invincible as I move toward one of the demons. I’m going to end him. To end all of the demons and the problems they caused me. End all of this.

  I don’t need salt.

  I just need the void.

  The magic moves out of me toward the demon. Its eyes are wide, scared—of me. The light from the void flows out of my fingers and wraps around the demon’s neck. He starts to move, but I move my hand, and his neck breaks.

  The other two demons are scattered on the ground, one trying to move, and the magic finds him. I don’t have to figure out what I want it to do. The void already seems to have a plan that I’m not aware of. The void lifts them until they’re both hanging from their feet. Fine by me. One is lifted into the sky, yards above, and dropped down. Hanged upside down by the void. His feet twitch in the air long after he’s dead.

  The last demon squirms. “Please,” it says.

  I look at it, but I don’t see it. I don’t care. I’m over caring. I want it to suffer, this one demon that has probably made hundreds of thousands of others suffer. I want to know what it’s done, and the demon screams as the light of the void floods into its brain through ears and nose and eyes. It screams as the images flash in my head of the lives it’s ended. Witches that it has tortured and drained. Nons that it’s toyed with, ruined, killed. It’s been alive for centuries, killing and surviving. And it’s never felt any sort of sorrow. Even when the victims said the same word, begged to be spared over and over again, it killed anyway.

  Now it will experience that feeling. Vengeance and karma and justice.

  “Beg me,” I say. The voice doesn’t feel like mine. It feels deeper, darker, like it’s coming from the void and not from me.

  The demon’s eyes widen. “Please don’t kill me. Please. I’ll do anything.” It begs. I listen, probably for minutes, as the demon repents and pleads and tries to convince me. It does convince me.

  I want it dead.

  The void wants it dead, too.

  With a snap of my fingers, the demon bleeds out. Its heart falls to the ground, separate from its body.

  For the first time I really feel like the void and I are one.

  I stand there amongst the dead, and my stomach calms. The void is patient again, content with waiting. I am calm. In fact, I am pleased with myself. With the damage. Then, there’s a sudden jolt that leaves me breathless, and I stumble backward toward the wall. The familiar burn of the void grows up my chest and my heart beats triple time. I fall to my knees, screaming. My pores are on fire. My ribs contract, tears flow from my eyes and I can’t stop them. I’m not sure how much more it lasts, the burning, the pain. Seconds or minutes, maybe. It stops suddenly, and I let out a sob. Then there’s a jolt again, and I lean over, gasping for air. The pain disappears.

  “Well, well, well,” a voice calls. I look over my shoulder and see Lia and another demon, looking from the mess to me. Lia moves toward me and her friend moves around the demons. “Look at this lot. I say, that must have been entertaining.”

  I don’t respond as I look around the alley. Three demons are dead, blood and guts and a once-beating heart on the ground. I did that, the void did that. I glance at Lia, who’s only inches from my face. “You good, girl?”

  I nod. I guess I am. I should feel sick, feel bad about what I’ve done, but I don’t. They all deserved it. Lia blinks, and then grabs my hand. “Look,” she says.

  My hands are a normal color. The blackness is gone from my veins. Only a small dot remains on my pinky.

  “Why is it gone?” I ask.

  “It’s done,” she says, examining my arms. She says it with awe and pride. Like she was uncertain it would actually work. “You and the void are connected now. You can control it.”

  “Perfect timing too,” the other demon says. I look across the alley toward it. It’s clad in the skin of a middle-aged woman, but beyond the skin of the woman, I see demon underneath. The Non is completely gone.

  “Who’s that?”

  “I’m Bemnel,” it says. Even though it’s in the body of a woman, the voice is obviously male, deep and scratchy. And Irish, apparently. “Mighty good job. She said it was so, and here you is.”

  Lia looks me over. “How’d you end up here?”

  I stand and dust myself off. I don’t feel any different, yet I feel completely new. It’s a strange feeling, almost like this is who I was supposed to be all along. Conduit of the void, a demon. “I was looking for you. Carter said you were using me, and lying about my sister.”

  Bemnel snorts across the alley.

  “We had a blood oath, didn’t we?” Lia says. An oath. She was very specific to include my sister. I shake my head. How could I let Carter get to me like that? I haven’t come this far to doubt Lia now.

  “Sorry, I—”

  “I’m guessing loverboy and you are on the outs,” she says.

  “He doesn’t get it.”

  Lia moves closer and strokes my hair the way my mom used to. It’s strange that she would know that. “About Carter,” she says. “He’s demon enemy number one. Blacklisted. He’s probably jealous that we actually like you.”

  “That doesn’t sound like Carter.”

  She shrugs. “Maybe you don’t know him the way you think you do.” I exhale at that comment. “He’s trying to make you doubt me because he probably wants something you have.”

  My mind races. What do I have that he doesn’t? “There’s nothing that…” Wait. Wait. I look at Lia. “The dagger. He mentioned the dagger.”

  She takes my wrist. “Let’s go,” she says, and Bemnel waves as we flicker out.

  Lia flickers me right into my room, and when we get there, Carter’s on the floor with the box I keep under my bed out in the open. The research on Azsis and the Restitution spread out around him.

  “Carter,” I say. He whips around to see me. This can’t be happening. “What are you doing in here?”

  “It’s it obvious?” Lia says. “He doesn’t trust you.”

  I don’t know this boy anymore. Not this one who would sneak into my house and steal from me. His eyes widen. “That’s not what this is.”

  “What were you looking for?”

  “The dagger,” he says quickly. I turn toward Lia, who nods. She was right. He wants that dagger. What was all that this morning? Did he report me to the WNN?
r />   “You were taking it? I need it for the Restitution tomorrow,” I jerk the box out of his hand.

  “I’m sorry, Penelope,” Lia says in my ear.

  “I’m sorry, too.” I say.

  Carter shakes his head and takes a step toward me. Part of me wants him to hold me, and the other part, the part that listens to the void, hates him. “Stop this. Don’t listen to her. You can’t believe anything she says to you.”

  “No, I can’t trust you,” I yell. It could be my imagination, but the whole house seems to shake like it used to with Connie when she got angry.

  “It’s a lie, Penelope. She wants to use it to destroy all of us,” he says.

  Lia leans into my ear. “Cut off your emotions. Feel nothing for him.”

  I look at him, at his face and his green eyes, and the lips I used to kiss. The ones that have betrayed me. I don’t want to feel that. He’s nothing to me now. Nothing but a boy in my room, trying to steal from me. A liar.

  And then all the feelings are gone.

  “Get out,” I yell. He steps toward me, but the void sends him backward with a powerful gust of wind. “GET OUT.”

  And like that, Carter’s out of my house. I hope the landing was painful.

  Lia rests a hand on my shoulder. “I’m sure that was difficult.”

  “It wasn’t difficult. It wasn’t anything.”

  She smiles a half-smile. “Good. I’ll see you in the morning. You have the address?”

  “Morning?”

  “For the present,” she says, and I nod.

  After she’s gone, I keep telling myself it was nothing. I repeat it until I can say it with a straight face. Until it starts to feel like nothing.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Carter

  My father and I stand in the zoo. I look up at him, so happy to be with him, ready to see the lions. “Buy a balloon?” a vendor asks.

  Dad gives him a dollar and he hands me a red balloon. I hate red.

  “I want blue,” I say and the man says he’s all out. Dad thanks him, and I want blue. I’m upset that dad won’t get me blue. We walk on, and I stare at the balloon, wishing it was blue. A blue balloon. That’s what I want. Blue like the sky. Blue like cotton candy. Blue.

  And then the balloon changes colors.

  Dad doesn’t notice at first, not until we’re almost at the lions and then he pauses. “I thought that was red,” he says.

  “I made it blue.” I smile. It’s exactly what I wanted.

  “You made it blue?”

  “I wanted blue, and now it’s blue.”

  Dad’s face isn’t happy. It’s upset. I made him mad. Why did I make him mad? He pulls me toward a bench and we sit down. He pulls the string until the balloon is in front of him. “This is not how we use magic,” he says to me. “It’s not proper, William.”

  Then he pops it. My balloon.

  I cry. “This is not how Prescott men act. Stop crying.”

  I sit up in bed. I’ve had that dream every time I sleep, ever since I saw Vassago the other night. The dream is a memory. I was only four, and it’d be years before I understood why that moment was bad. The use of magic in public, and the first time my dad suspected I used the void, even though I had no idea what I was doing. His fear has always been that strong.

  It’s three a.m. when I toss the covers off and groan as I move. My body hurts from Pen throwing me out of her house. Literally. I laid on the pavement for minutes before I could stand. That magic she used isn’t normal. The demons have her now, completely on their side.

  I needed that dagger. It was the only way I could stop any of this, since she won’t even let me talk to her. If I have the dagger, then the demons don’t, and they can’t go through with this plan. I have to reach her. I have to make her understand. I’ll see her tonight, at the Observance, and I’ll tell her then. It’s the only place the demon won’t be around. Every time I try to talk to her, Lia changes her mind. If she’s not around, then Pen will listen to me.

  Hopefully. I guess she could retaliate against me again, but she loves me. She’s scared about this other stuff. I can play on that. Use her love and her fear to make a strong move, to get ahead of the demons. Maybe even stop them. If I can’t, then there’s no hope. There will be no one who can make her listen. Not with Connie in a coma and Ric out of town.

  Or maybe there is.

  I pull out my cell phone and scroll until I find Frank’s number. Her grandpa. She loves him, and underneath, that girl is still there. If all this is for Connie, then maybe he can reason with her. Between him and me, we can do this. There’s still time.

  I sigh before pushing the call button. Even though it’s the middle of the night, Frank answers. Now or never, Carter.

  “Mr. Warren, it’s Carter Prescott.”

  “Carter, it’s late.” Frank’s voice is heavy on the other line.

  “We need to talk about Penelope,” I say with a pause. “She’s in trouble.”

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Penelope

  The Observance dance starts at eight, in an hour, and the Restitution will start right after midnight, at the witching hour. Midnight to dawn, six hours to do all this. The six hours where the magic is at its height. Then this is all over and Connie is safe.

  It’s dark in the house except for what comes in from the sky. Even that is in minimum because the sky is overcast. I don’t mind the darkness, but Gran and Pop never have liked it. It’s quiet, too quiet. Gran and Pop must be at the hospital still. Or again. Time is merely a tool to measure how much longer I have to wait. To count down my sister’s life.

  I grab my green raincoat, since it’s pouring outside, and head for the hallway. I have to go meet Lia for the present.

  “Penelope,” Gran says, walking into the living room. I roll my eyes and then turn on the bottom step toward her. When did they get back? She and Pop stand there, staring at me like I’m an injured puppy.

  “We’re so worried about you.” She takes a step toward me and I take a step backward. I don’t want her to touch me. As I think, that the void starts to stir. Now she definitely can’t touch me. Feel nothing, I tell myself. Nothing.

  Pop moves toward me. “We want to talk with you, Penelope. Go sit in the living room.”

  Gran and Pop stare me down. I don’t want a fight, so I go and sit. They follow behind me and sit across from me.

  “What is it?” I ask. “I’ve got to go.”

  Pop shakes his head, and even though I try not to, I do feel. Pop’s always been there. Feel nothing. “We ran into Sabrina Stone in the hospital and she asked how you were. She informed us that you were marked. Why wouldn’t you tell us?”

  “You’ve been marked for weeks,” Gran says, the lines on her face harsher. “Since your sister’s accident. You losing your Enforcer badge was one thing, and we’d figured you’d come to us about that when you were ready—but how could you keep that from us?”

  There was a reason, but it’s hard to grasp and cling to now. I don’t need to respond at all. I move toward the door, but Gran still talks at me.

  “We’re worried, Penelope We’ve been overlooking some of your actions. We wanted to let you deal with things about your sister and the loss of your dream in your own way, but this isn’t dealing with anything,” she says.

  Now I feel anger. How can she pretend to care about my job, about me being an Enforcer, now that I’m not one anymore? “You didn’t want that future for me, anyway. I did you a favor.”

  “I want you to have a future,” Gran pleads. “Everyone saw that message that you were a halfling. The phone rang all morning, Penelope. We can’t protect you from that. Even if the Triad sent out a retraction, the suspicion will not die that easily. Not for any of us. Things have changed forever.”

  I force the void to stay down. Feel nothing. Don’t let this control you. You don’t owe them.

  “Penelope,” Pop says, “stay with us so we can keep you from harm.”

  I stare be
tween them, and those words are supposed to mean a lot, but they don’t. They’re scared. Scared of things they don’t understand and it’s not my job to make them understand. “I don’t need any help. I have my own magic now.”

  I stand to move from them, but Gran grabs my arm. Her face is harsh, older than she usually seems. “Stop lying. We are still your grandparents. What are you doing?”

  “The one thing you never wanted,” I snap.

  Gran takes a step back, like I’ve hit her. “Which is?”

  “What I have to do. I’m embracing who I am.”

  I see the realization dawn on her face. She stares back at me in horror, and I expect her to comment more on it, but it’s Pop, not her, who speaks.

  “What have you done?”

  He touches my shoulders, one hand on each, and I look at him. I have to. But I don’t even want to answer him. I want to go. The void lingers at my fingertips, waiting for me to let it out. My hands start to shake, and I have to leave right now.

  “I have to go,” I say. I lurch away from him, snatch my bag from the couch, and move toward the door. The void wants to release, and I force it back with all I can. It’s very hot inside, and I feel my shirt sticking to me under my coat. I have to get out of this room and away from them. The magic keeps growing, wanting out, and I can’t not feel anything for them. Not for him.

  Magic zaps me in the back, and when I look, Pop is standing with his hand out in the air. “Do not leave. We are not finished.”

  It’s only a second of emotion from me, but that’s all it takes. The void wins the war with my body, lights up the dark room, and shoots out of me. I let out a gasp, but I can’t stop the magic. Pop falls to the ground, stiff as a board. Gran rushes to him, calling his name, and I stand there. I should go to him, but I don’t. I can’t. If he’s not okay, then I don’t want to see it. My whole body is convulsing, and I don’t trust the magic. Or myself.

  Instead, I open the door to leave.

  I force my hands to steady before I move. My entire body has a moment of stillness, an anchor. I shut off the movements, the pain, the emotions. It’s the only way to control it.

 

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