I looked down at my flame hand and forearm. The fire had stabilized, no longer scorched my dragonskins, no longer threatened to consume the rest of my flesh.
But my own fury at what had been done to me, Cooper, and the children had not diminished. Not even a little.
“Humans shouldn’t have that kind of power,” Pal said, sounding amazed and a little afraid.
With my right hand, I absently rubbed the scaly scars beneath my stone eye. Remembered how the Goad had called me a mongrel. “Maybe I’m not as human as I thought. The Virtus.. . I could feel it was worried about Cooper and me both. Worried about what we might do.”
“And oh look, you killed it.” Pal’s telepathic voice was tight with near hysteria. “So I think its fears were rather well founded, weren’t they?”
“So I killed it. Big deal. Surely sorcerers get off lucky shots every now and then, right?”
“Actually, no. This is the first I’ve heard of any mortal creature seriously damaging a Virtus, much less killing one.”
“Oh.” I looked back across the field. Mother Karen and the Warlock had brought the survivors up from the basement. Karen and a couple of people I remembered seeing around the Warlock’s bar held babies and toddler Blue. The Warlock and a guy in fringed boots were carrying Cooper, whd-hung limply between them, apparently still unconscious. All the Talents were staring at me and Pal with mixed expressions of shock, awe, admiration, and fear.
“Are the Virtii going to come after me in force?” I asked Pal.
“It’s possible, but honestly I don’t know what they’re likely to do,” he replied. “And so I don’t know what we should do.”
“Well, crap.” I looked down at my boots.
Mr. Jordan’s parchment and quill lay by my feet.
I burst out laughing.
“What?” asked Pal.
“Oopsie. We let my anti-anathema spell run out,” I giggled, pointing at the magical contract. I blinked to the gemview that had shown me the architecture of Cooper’s hell. Subtle enchantments swirled around the document. “What kind of dumb legal magic keeps on going after it’s been rendered completely pointless? Or do you think that if I sign this, he’ll call off the dogs? Better late than never, right?”
I knelt, picked up the quill with my right hand, and wrote “Go screw yourself” in neat cursive on the blank signature line. My writing disappeared. It was replaced briefly with the words VALID SIGNATURE REQUIRED, and then the space went blank again.
“If you insist,” I said, signing my name, then snatching up the contract and crushing it into my flame palm.
“What on Earth are you doing?” Pal asked. “I think this thing’s gonna phone home,” I said. Staring through my stone eye at the burning contract, I whispered an ancient word for “trace.” I got a flash of Jordan in his fancy library, sitting at a mahogany desk flanked by bookshelves and antique suits of armor. It was his mansion in Bexley, the ritzy part of the city people like me didn’t get invited to very often. I’d never been there, but I knew I could follow the enchantment back to its source.
“Hey! Karen, Warlock!” I yelled. “Are you guys okay to get everyone back to the city?”
“I think so,” Mother Karen called back. Her voice shook. “What—what are you going to do now?”
I waved the quill pen at her. “I think Mr. Jordan and I need to have another little chat.”
I turned to Pal. “They’re gonna need the Land Rover. Do you know a flying tune?”
Pal nodded.
“Got enough juice to get us back to the city?” I asked.
“I think so,” he replied.
Pal knelt, and I climbed up onto his shaggy thorax, eventually finding a comfortable seat between the crests of two vertebrae. He began to sing a new melody, flexed his legs, and leaped into the sky.
chapter twenty-five
A Little Chat
I rode Pal toward the sunset, my hair blowing in the wind, my heart thrilling at the feeling of being aloft above the world. The flight would have been great fun except that I was gritting my teeth, expecting a whole host of Virtii to descend on us at any moment. But none came, so halfway back to Columbus, I began to relax a bit. And then I started to sense that other creatures in the air were pacing us. But the others, whatever they were, didn’t approach. I suspected they might be more men on dragons, hidden behind an invisibility spell.
Invisibility.
“Oh crap, the mundanes can totally see us up here,” I shouted to Pal as we began to descend toward Bexley.
“I can’t do more than one spell at a time,” he replied. “You’ll have to take care of that one.”
I imagined the people below sitting on their front porches, enjoying the evening breeze, sipping sweet lemonade or perhaps frothy cold beer. And then they’d look up to see a woman with a flame arm flying through the air on a giant spider monster. Would they point and scream? Dial the cops and the TV stations? Decide to switch to O’Doul’s?
Or maybe they’d just give them a passing glance and mistake spider and rider for a weather balloon in the dimming light.
“Oh, the hell with it,” I told Pal. “They can see us if they want to. Screw the rules.”
Screw Jordan, too. I hadn’t decided what I was going to do when I finally saw him, mainly because I was trying to think of him as little as possible. The merest memory of his patronizing smile infuriated me. And then the fire of my arm flared bright, and I had to hold it above my head to keep from scorching Pal’s fur. The Statue of Liberty impression made my much-abused shoulder ache, so I was doing my best to think about other things. Like what I was going to do if Pal and I ever had to deal with more than one Virtus.
Following the trail of the tracking spell, I directed Pal down onto a round, pavestone courtyard before a plantation-style brick manor with a wide, white-pillared front porch. An elderly man in white gloves and a dark suit—a mundane by the feel of him—stood on the porch. Behind him were red double doors with twin brass Egyptian lions set into them.
“You are Miss Shimmer?” the man asked as I dismounted. He had a proper British accent. It figured that a guy like Jordan would import his own butler. Elitist son of a bitch. My arm flared up along with my anger.
“Where’s the rest of Jordan’s … crew?” I asked, trying to stay calm, trying to minimize the flames crackling against my sleeve.
“Master Jordan’s associates have retired for the evening; in anticipation of your visit, he has sent his wife and children to stay with friends. I do not know their location, so I cannot reveal it, no matter how much… . duress I might be put under.”
His tone took me aback. What kind of a monster did this guy take me for? I looked down at my ichor spattered leathers and sighed. “I didn’t come here to hurt you. Where is Jordan?”
“Mr. Jordan is waiting for you in his library. If you will please follow me? I’m afraid your.. . companion won’t fit through the doorway.”
I looked up at Pal. Are you okay staying out here?
“I’ll be fine, but will you be okay?”
I bit my lip and tugged at the chin strap on my helmet. I might need backup, depending on what happens. Can you—
“I’ll know where you are. If you need me, I’ll be there right away. I’ll break through the roof if I have to.”
Okay. I stepped toward the butler. “Let’s go.”
The old gentleman led me into the airy, chandeliered foyer. “Would you care for refreshment? I recently made the master a pitcher of sangria.”
“No, thank you,” I said, warily looking around as he led me through a hallway. I’d fully expected to find a small army guarding the house. But if word had gotten back that I’d killed a Virtus… well, at least Jordan cared about some of his own family. I was appalled that he apparently thought I might hurt one of his kids to get back at him, but that just went to show what a small-minded creep he really was. He sure as fuck wasn’t above letting innocent children suffer if it suited him.
My ar
m blazed and almost caught a nearby tapestry on fire. Crap. I took a series of deep breaths to calm down. He’d expect me to trash his place, because he’d done the same to me. Not that setting the mansion on fire wouldn’t be viscerally satisfying, but in the end I thought that perhaps taking the high road might help me sleep a bit better. Maybe.
“Master Jordan awaits you inside,” the butler said, opening a set of French doors that led into the large, wood-paneled library I’d seen in the brief vision from the burning contract.
I stepped inside. Jordan was sitting very still behind his desk at the far end of the room, his back to the window. His hands were flat on the desk in front of him.
“Hello, Miss Shimmer.” He gave me what I guessed must be the best of the swell-guy smiles he’d practiced on countless judges and juries.
I glared at him. “Hello, Benny.”
“I’m pleased to see you’ve survived your recent adventures.”
“Pleased, my rosy pink ass.” I stalked toward his desk, gratified that the arm was staying under control, at least so far. “I’m surprised you’re still here.”
“After all that’s happened, I thought I should see you. Privately.”
“How thoughtful,” I replied. “But really you should’ve come to the farmhouse like a man instead of sending your dragon riders and the Virtus. Wouldn’t have had to kill the poor thing, you know?”
“The Virtus attacked you of its own accord. I had no control over its actions.” He paused and took a deep breath. “I admit that I have handled things poorly. I was acting on information and advice that has turned out to be gravely inaccurate. I would like to.. . make amends for all you’ve suffered these past few weeks.”
“Amends? That’s a laugh.” My glare deepened to a scowl. “But please, go ahead, tell me how you think you could possibly make up for all you’ve done. I might be amused.”
“First, all charges against you and Cooper Marron will be dropped. I guarantee that neither of you will suffer any criminal or civil consequences, because we recognize that you felt you had no choice but to act as you did.”
“What about the Virtii? Are they agreeing to this?”
“They will take some convincing, but I’m sure I can bring them around.”
He flashed the swell-guy smile again, and the rage rose up inside me. My arm flamed, and I didn’t try to stop it. “You’ll have to do much better than that.”
Jordan didn’t miss a beat. “We will bring in the best magical healers to cure you of that unfortunate curse you’ve picked up,” he nodded toward my flame hand, “and restore your body to normal.”
“I suppose that’s a better start, but only a start,” I said.
“All confiscated property will be returned in perfect working order, and all your damaged property will be replaced. You’ll be awarded extensive experiential credit toward your degree,” he said. “And to compensate for the unpleasantness with your apartment and the destruction of the shack in the woods, we have located a very nice town house in the Short North that you can stay in as long as you like. Rent-free.”
“So what about that job you got me fired from?”
He didn’t even blink. “Because you’ve demonstrated you’re a Talent of unusual creativity, intelligence and power, I’d like to offer you a position on the circle’s paranormal defense team. You’ll help protect the mundane population from demons, werewolves, vampires, and other malevolent entities.
“What do you think of my offer?” he finished.
“Wow. It’s like Christmas in July,” I said. “But what about your brothers?”
Jordan paused. “Cooper, of course, will receive the same excellent healer care and counseling that you do. And of course he will benefit from the property compensations, and if he wants a job I will certainly do my best to locate a suitable position for him. As for the Warlock… well, any financial losses he suffered as a result of his bar being closed will be more than compensated for.”
“I meant your other brothers.”
A shadow of fear flickered across his face before it returned to his normal placid expression. “I’m afraid there’s nothing anyone can do for souls trapped in a hell.”
I felt weirdly elated. He didn’t know I’d brought back the babies! Either his dragon squad had been too freaked out to relay that bit of information to Jordan, or they hadn’t seen the kids at all.
“Liar,” I growled, pointing at him with my roaring fiery hand. “You’re a lousy chickenshit liar.”
His eyes widened ever so slightly. Was that sweat I saw on his forehead?
“What?” he asked, sounding utterly calm. Breezy, even.
“You know good goddamn well that you could’ve gone in there yourself and brought them back to Earth. But it was so much easier just to cover it all up and pretend it didn’t happen, wasn’t it? You gutless jackass. You left those kids in there to suffer, and you could have saved them.”
Jordan’s façade broke, and for the first time I saw real fear in his eyes. Fear of me. “I didn’t have anything to do with what happened! I.. . I didn’t know my father was… was doing those things. I didn’t know! There was nothing I could have done to fix what happened.”
“You dickless coward. You’ve had every day of your life since you became a big-shot wizard to make things right for those kids. And when I stepped up to the plate, you could have grown some balls and helped me out, but no. You just tried to shut me down. And you couldn’t even do that right, could you?”
“I tried to stop you for your own good. For God’s sake, just look what it’s done to you! I made my decision in the best interest of public safety—”
“Bullshit. You were just covering your own ass.”
“There was nothing anyone could do to help my brothers, you have to understand that!”
“Liar.”
“I’m not lying!”
“If you’re not lying, then you’re one hell of a shitty wizard. Because Cooper and I brought them back.”
The color drained from Jordan’s face. “What?”
“We rescued your brothers from hell and brought them back alive, you asshole.”
Jordan leaned away from me, shaking his head. “No. Impossible. There’s not enough magical energy—”
“Did you see the Goad running the show in there? No, of course you didn’t, because you’re a fucking coward and you didn’t even try to see what was going on.”
I leaned in close to his face. “It had plenty of power. It had been tormenting innocent people for thousands of years. It would have been in the best interest of the public fucking safety for you to have sent your little paranormal defense team in there to kill it if you didn’t have the guts to try the job yourself.”
His jaw worked soundlessly for a moment before he got any words out. “They—they can’t be normal after that, they’ll be no better than demons—”
“If they go bad later I’ll send them right back where I found them. But until then, they deserve the chance to grow up in a nice place with decent people who love them. They deserve the chance to laugh and grow and learn that the world is a pretty cool place to be. They deserve it way more than you ever did.”
I stood up and stared down at him. “So before I accept that oh-so-awesome deal from you, I want to know what you’re going do for your baby brothers. Are you going to welcome them into this cozy family home of yours? Are you going to change their diapers, wipe their tears? What, exactly, are you going to do to make things right for the brothers you abandoned in hell?”
Jordan stared back at me, looking completely horrified. Through my stone eye, I saw the aura around him shift; he was subvocalizing some kind of spell. An offensive charm, or perhaps teleportation magic.
I barked an ancient word for “tongueless” and slammed my flame hand down on his right, pinning it to the desk. He gave a wordless scream, his eyes bugging out. There wasn’t a trace of guilt or regret on his face, just raw animal fear and pain.
“You think tha
t hurts?” I shouted, the smell of his sizzling flesh and scorching mahogany filling my nostrils. “I’ll show you real pain.”
I closed my eyes and willed us both into the remnant of the Goad’s hell that existed in my fire.
When I opened my eyes again, Jordan and I were standing beneath the bare yellow bulb in Cooper’s chain-link bedroom in the empty, cold basement. Jarred memories glowed in the dark under the narrow bed.
“Where are we?” Jordan asked, his face gray.
“In a piece of the hell you dodged all these years,” I replied. “And as far as you’re concerned, I’m the Devil.”
Jordan whirled on the chained, padlocked door behind him, futilely rattling the cage as he tried to muscle it open. When it wouldn’t budge, he started shouting for help.
I gave a soft, bitter laugh. “Nobody can hear you in here, Benny. Save your breath.”
I knelt and pulled a jar from beneath the bed. The swirling memories inside flashed and strobed like red and black lightning. I could tell by the feel that they had belonged to Reggie Jordan. “Maybe you’re some kind of sociopath like your dear ol’ dad and you aren’t built to feel sympathy for anyone but yourself. But maybe you just grew up like any spoiled mundane rich kid and now you got a bad case of selfish. Either way, we’re going to see if we can’t make you feel a little something for your family’s suffering, okay?”
I held the jar toward him. “These are Reggie’s nightmares. They got so bad he finally killed himself. What exactly did you do to try to help your beloved cousin before that happened?”
“He—he never talked about his problems—”
“Or maybe he tried to talk but you never wanted to hear it?”
“He never told me what happened,” Jordan insisted. “We got to the farm, and we both knew something was wrong. Reggie made me wait in his car while he checked Out the house. Then he opened a mirror to talk to his mother, and she told us to burn the place down. I never went inside. He never told me what he found in there. Never.”
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