by Linsey Hall
Mari’s wide eyes were glued to the hustle and bustle of Grimrealm. I couldn't blame her.
This was only my second time seeing it since childhood, and it was freaky.
The main chamber was the same as it had been—a massive open-air market filled with black fabric stalls and hundreds of tables. Everything from potions to shrunken heads were sold here. Signs floated in the air above the stalls, advertising their wares. Magick Most Mighty and Poisonous Perilous Potions.
They’d be cute names if not for the reek of dark magic that made the situation very clear. This stuff was evil, and those peddling it were proud.
“We need to find The Weeds,” I said. “But I’ve no idea where he’ll be.”
“A fortune-teller or seer, maybe?”
I nodded. There had to be one in the market. We could go back to the library where I’d first learned about The Weeds’s location, but I’d rather try this first. Less dangerous.
I stepped forward, and a twinge of fiery pain shot through my veins. I gasped.
“What is it?” Concern shadowed Mari’s voice.
“The fire. I feel it.”
“Me too. On and off.”
“No time to waste, then.” I reached for her hand so we didn’t get separated. At the last minute, I remembered my nullifying power and grabbed the edge of her cloak.
I led the way through the bustling stalls, walking quickly and without making eye contact. My hood made it easy, and I kept my attention on the stall wares.
When I finally spotted a seer sitting at a table in the middle of the market, I pointed. “Let’s try her.”
We threaded our way through the crowd, headed for the beautiful woman sitting inside a simple tent. The sign above her head read Fortune & Seer Work.
At some point, Wally disappeared, but it was for the best. We didn't need to draw any attention, and he was pretty interesting. The woman’s gaze flashed toward us, as if she knew to expect us. Her eyes glittered an emerald green like her hair, and her beautiful brown skin glowed with an internal light.
As we approached, her magic didn't feel dark. Not even a little bit.
I frowned. What was she doing here if she didn’t have dark magic?
And why did the residents tolerate it?
“Maybe it’s a good thing,” Mari whispered, as if she’d read my mind. She hadn’t, but it was obvious that we were having the same thoughts. “She won’t lie.”
That wasn’t a guarantee, but this woman had her reasons for being here, just like us.
I stopped in front of her table. She wore a simple green dress that matched her hair and flowed like water over her curves. The cloak over her shoulders was a rich green velvet.
What a weird woman to be in Grimrealm.
“Are you open for business?” I asked.
She opened her arms wide, her smile welcoming. “But of course.”
We sat on the two tiny stools in front of her. There was no crystal ball or cup of tea in front of her—none of the usual fortune telling stuff. Which meant she was probably a seer, a supernatural capable of plucking information from the ether. Not all information, but some of it.
“What can I do for you?” she asked.
“We’re looking for a guy named The Weeds.”
She frowned. “That weasel?”
“The very same. Any idea where he is?”
She flattened the frown from her face and shrugged, seeming bored. “No. But I can find him.”
“That’d be great.” I glanced at Mari, who looked hopeful.
The woman closed her eyes, and her magic surged. There was a bit of darkness to it. I could sense it now that I was close. A bit like mine, really.
Finally, she opened her eyes. “You’ll find him in his apartment off of Derrigo Street, at number twelve.” She pointed to the right. “At the back of Grimrealm.”
Fear chilled my skin. We hadn’t lived off of Derrigo Street, but we’d lived close. Mari gripped my knee, holding tight despite the nausea that touching me must cause her.
“Do you know anything else about him?” I asked.
“Only that he’s in over his head, providing demons to someone who is much stronger than he is.”
“Who?” My voice snapped with interest.
“I can’t see that. He’s shielded. But The Weeds has been busy supplying him with demons, and it’s getting dicey.”
“How dicey?” Mari asked.
She shrugged. “Don’t know. I’m just getting that feeling.”
I nodded. “Thanks. What’ll it be?”
“Three hundred.”
Mari pulled the money from her cloak and handed it over.
I stood, but bent down. “You want to be here, right?” I wanted to make sure she wasn’t being trafficked.
The woman’s eyes flashed with irritation, then understanding. “Yeah. I’ve got my reasons.”
I nodded and straightened. I believed her. She didn’t sound coerced, and her reaction had seemed genuine.
Mari and I left, cutting through the crowd as quickly as we could. We headed for the less populated area in the back, toward our old neighborhood.
“Did you come this way last time you were here?” Mari asked.
“No.” Just thinking about it sent a shiver through me.
Aunt and Uncle still had to live in Grimrealm. There was no reason they wouldn’t.
But that didn’t mean we’d run into them. And if we did, we could always kick their asses. I wouldn’t feel a bit of guilt over that.
Finally, we reached the edge of the market. It was quieter, though bigger shops and casinos were built into the sides of the cavern. Doormen stood outside of most of them, species that I’d never seen before. Most of them looked built for fighting, though, with big muscles and powerful magic that filled the air around them.
My gaze moved unerringly toward Derrigo Street. The name was carved into the wall of the tunnel that made up the street, and it was dark inside.
“Not a nice part of town,” Mari said.
“No, it never was.”
Together, we stepped into the tunnel.
We weren’t there to confront our past, but I couldn't convince my flight-or-fight reflex to chill out. It wasn’t sure what it wanted to do—both, probably.
We stuck side by side as we strode down the darkened street. The lights were dim, flickering street lamps that were running low on power. The doorways that led off the tunnel were all shut tight—apartments that wanted no visitors. Just like our own had been.
In the distance, a shadow loomed. Probably a big man, from the look of him.
Next to me, Mari flinched. I wasn’t far behind her. When I caught sight of how he walked, I stiffened. His gait was familiar. A slight limp.
He neared us, getting closer and closer until I could spot his muddy eyes and squashed nose.
The familiar fear surged as the memories rose. A beating. Another beating.
I’d seen this man last time I was here.
He’d been our jailer.
A hired gun our aunt had employed to make sure we didn't escape after our first few attempts.
Last time, I’d hidden in my ghost suit, letting the man pass me and Declan by.
Not this time. Rage fought with the fear. I’d had my chance to cower, and I’d taken it.
Not again.
I shoved Mari back. “Stay here.”
She was frozen with terror, her eyes wide as she stared at the man, who was only about ten feet away.
“Don’t,” she whispered. “He’ll kill you.”
4
“Not if I kill him first.” I yanked up the hood on my ghost suit, invisibility cloaking me.
Then I charged.
Rage lit a fire in my chest as memories crashed into my mind. For years, this man had denied us food, light, and delivered beatings any time we didn’t comply. Images of him wailing on Mari flashed in my mind, and I just couldn’t take it.
A psychologist might say that a lot of my f
ear had to do with never coming back to confront my past and put it to bed.
Well, I was willing to put this part of it to bed.
“Where are you?” His voice rumbled out, sending a shiver of fear scraping across my nerve endings. “I would sense that magic anywhere.”
Oh, shit.
He recognized us, despite our disguises.
Of course. We’d amplified the dark magic that had cloaked us while we’d lived here.
No wonder he recognized it. He’d loved torturing us.
Well, I would happily return the favor.
I drew my mace from the ether and swung it hard as I neared, aiming for his head. The spiked ball flew through the air, right at his thick skull.
But he was fast.
Oh, so fast. I’d forgotten how fast. He’d been the perfect jailer because of it. We’d never caught him.
He dodged low, avoiding the weapon that he couldn’t even see. Because it was attached to me while I was invisible, he had no way of seeing it.
Yet somehow, he’d dodged it perfectly.
He laughed, an ugly sound. “Sweet little Dragon Blood, come back for more?”
I nearly gagged at the words, rage lighting in my chest. I’d have to be faster. He darted toward me, and I dived left. He could sense me somehow, and I needed to stay ahead of him.
I banished my mace back to the ether and called upon a dagger, whirling to face him. He stood between Mari and me, staring at her. She looked at him, a stark expression on her face, then bared her teeth, ready to fight.
She was just as scared as I’d been the first time I’d seen him, when I’d hidden myself like a coward. But she’d fight.
I threw my dagger at his back, aiming right for the biggest part. It sank into the flesh, but he just grunted.
Shit, he was strong.
I drew another dagger, but he staggered toward Mari.
Why the hell was he going for her?
A memory flashed.
She’d been his favorite to beat. Rage like I’d never known lit in my chest.
“Hey! Dick weasel,” I called.
He turned to me, face red and expression thunderous. His eyes darted as he searched for me.
“Yes, I’m talking to you, pea brain.” I threw another dagger, but he managed to dodge this one, moving so fast I could barely see him.
As I recalled, his range for lightning-fast movement was only a few feet, and I was far enough away that I’d have a couple seconds notice. But if he got close to me, I was dead.
From behind him, Mari raised her bloody hand. The black liquid glinted in the light, and the signal was clear.
He was too fast for my blades, but he couldn’t escape our lightning. Not as long as we had him trapped between us in this tunnel.
Quickly, I drew a dagger and sliced my palm, raising my hand. I called upon the lightning within me for the second time that night. Mari and I had always fought best as a team.
Though I was exhausted and the fire curse dragged at me, the lightning burst to the surface. Fear and desperation were fantastic fuels for magic. I yanked my hood off so Mari could see me.
Lightning cracked from Mari’s palm, two electric streams from our hands, joining in the middle.
Our nameless jailer was only a few feet to the left, the faint glow of the lightning shining upon his ugly face.
Together, we sprinted left, dragging the bar of lightning along. He darted out of the way, but we caught him by the wall. There was nowhere left for him to run.
When the lightning cut into his body, making him shake and his skin turn black, satisfaction welled inside me. He dropped hard to the ground, and we lowered our lightning stream, making sure he was dead.
A dark grin stretched across Mari’s face, satisfaction following in its wake. When we were sure he was dead, we approached on swift feet, meeting in the middle and staring down at his body. We’d kept the lightning on him so long—probably too long—that he’d turned crispy and black, like something burned on the grill.
“Bastard,” Mari muttered.
“But god, that felt good.” We’d killed our past. Not our whole past, but an ugly chunk of it. I was glad I’d done it with her. Bonding, Dragon Blood style.
I took a half second to enjoy the sight, then looked up at Mari. “We’d better get a move on. That was some dangerous magic to use here.”
She nodded, her expression turning stark again. In all my life, I’d never seen anyone use conjoined lightning magic like ours. Probably because we’d invented it while living here. I didn’t know what—if any—surveillance Aunt might have on this area, but I didn’t want to run into her before we got a cure for this fire vein curse. I didn't want to run into her ever, actually.
Together, we hurried away from the body.
We were nearly toward the end of the street by the time I saw number twelve. The door was partially open, the interior dark.
“Shit,” Mari muttered.
Dread filled me as I approached. An open door was weird on a street where every other door was closed. Especially when we’d just committed murder. Was The Weeds watching us? Had he run for it?
“I’ll go first.” I flipped my hood up, though it wouldn’t do me a ton of good if he was spying on us from inside.
Silently, I approached, sniffing at the air. I got no hint of dark magic. Nothing out of the ordinary, at least.
Carefully, I pushed the door open, braced for an attack.
None came.
Light from the tunnel flooded into the apartment, shining on the body in the middle of the floor. Brilliant green hair gleamed. The air felt stale and empty.
Shit.
Quietly, I crept in, searching for an attacker. Who had done this?
A quick scan of the small, one-room space revealed that it was empty. Except for Weeds, who was definitely dead, considering that he was missing his heart. There was nothing but a gaping hole in the middle of his chest. Parts of his skin were blackened, as if he’d been hit with electricity.
I turned back to Mari, who was keeping a lookout on the hall. “It’s clear.”
She turned to me, her gaze going to The Weeds. “Shit. That’s him?”
“That’s him.”
I knelt by the body. His face was twisted in an expression of horror. Couldn't blame him. Besides the gaping, bloody hole in his chest, the blackened parts of his skin looked painful. He’d been tortured before death, I’d bet. His skin was cold and the blood congealed, but he didn’t look like he’d been here long. I was no coroner, though, so my guess was still iffy.
“Check this out.” Mari’s voice made me turn. She stood in front of a table, holding up a golden medallion, her hand hovering over a box. The medallion was identical to the ones the demons had worn.
“Is that box full of those?”
“Yep. I bet it’s his signature. Any demons wearing these were hired by him.”
I nodded, turning back to the body. “Who the hell did you get mixed up with?”
Dead bastard said nothing.
I searched around the body, finally lifting him up to reveal a single black feather underneath. I picked it up, then turned to show Mari. “Looks like we have a clue.”
Wally appeared a half second later, his keen red gaze glued to my hand. He approached and sniffed, then drew back with a wince.
“What is it?” I asked.
That’s an angel feather.
“An angel?”
Fallen angel, to be precise.
Oh shit. Was Declan the one who had killed The Weeds?
No. No way.
An hour later, we staggered out of Grimrealm. I clutched the feather as we arrived at the surface, every muscle in my body dragging with exhaustion. My veins felt like they were on fire, and it was agony.
When we arrived on our doorstep, Wally was waiting for us. He’d disappeared after identifying the feather.
The hellcat sat on the step right in front of the door, looking us up and down. You look like hell.<
br />
I scowled at him. “It’s the curse.”
You need to rest.
What I wanted to do was go hunt down Declan.
Mari touched my shoulder. “He’s right. The book of curses said so.”
It didn’t matter whether or not I agreed—they were right. Staying rested would keep my strength up. And it was nearly four a.m.—I’d been up ages.
“Del is going to come over in the morning,” Mari said. “We were going to keep working on finding whoever made the orb, but she can probably help us with the feather, too.”
Having a plan made me feel better, and if we had a FireSoul on the job, our chances improved a lot.
Silently, we dragged ourselves to bed. I set the feather on the night table beside me, staring at it for just a moment.
It wasn’t Declan’s feather. He’d have no reason to kill The Weeds, and if he’d done it, he’d have told me.
Also, the distinctive silver tip to the feather was something I’d never seen on his wings.
Which meant there was another fallen angel out there. An immensely powerful, angry angel who’d killed my only connection to the demons who’d put the curse on me.
I’d find the bastard.
I had to.
I woke feeling a hell of a lot more human, thank fates. There was still a faint burn in my veins, but I could move more easily than I had been able to last night, when exhaustion had pulled at me like an anchor.
Mari and I met in the foyer around eight, and Del joined us a few minutes later.
“I brought presents,” she said as she stepped through the front door. Her midnight hair gleamed brightly in the early morning sun, and her black leather jacket was beaten and worn. From the look of the sword slice on the right arm, it’d seen some serious action lately.
My eyes went immediately to the paper cups in her hands. They were emblazoned with the familiar logo of Potions & Pastilles.
“You are a saint.” I took the coffee and sipped deeply. “I owe you one.”
“Then you’re about to lose your mind.” She drew a paper sack from the bag at her side. “Cinnamon buns.”
I took the bag. “You’re welcome to visit any time.”
