At that moment, I had an idea, but had no clue if it would work.
I didn’t take time to think, didn’t hesitate, I just acted upon instinct as I expanded my awareness out… not just out, but up too. Sure enough, moisture was building in the clouds above us, and it was all I could do to hold back the grin wanting to coat my lips.
Concentration was key as I focused on every molecule of water in the sky. It would’ve been so much easier if it had been raining, but the humidity would have to do.
It was as if I could wrap each and every drop of dampness in the palm of my hand and form the ice crystals in pretty little designs—a work of art that would soon be my savior.
Without a wasted moment, I got the hang of it, forming thousands upon thousands of snowflakes by joining all the molecules together… heavier… heavier… until they were bound to fall on my captors. If only I could use my precious snowflakes to see who they were, like mini video drones spying on my enemies. I knew the charmer was Sarah, if that was even her real name, but the man still eluded me.
I knew one thing was for certain—I at least needed to figure out who they worked for.
“I didn’t know it was going to snow tonight,” Sarah said, her voice ending her sentence in a high-pitched lilt, like an itch I couldn’t fucking scratch. She was seriously getting on my last nerve.
Silence filled the air around us as the man continued to keep quiet. No warning was given before I heard footsteps coming closer and closer to me.
Yep, the man knew me, and he sure as hell knew I was the one making the snow.
I had to act fast or risk—what? Would I be risking my life if he knew it was me? Would he hurt me?
Yes. I heard a gruff, male voice whisper in my head. Yes, he’ll hurt you. You need to run.
No way was I imagining my father’s voice… no way.
Still, I believed the voice to be true. No other thoughts crossed my mind except to stop them in their tracks. Forget snow. I needed ice to stop them. Thick, deadly ice.
I hated taking a life, let alone two.
But they gave me no choice. It was either them or me.
With heavy, sedated muscles, I labored to my feet, my eyes popping open to see two figures stomping toward me. I didn’t hesitate and raised my hands in the air, balling up all the snow, ice, and water as if I were able to physically hold it and form it all in my hands. I let it all drop, like barrels full of ice ready to pummel them to the ground in an instant.
Sarah screamed when golf ball sized hail hammered her on the head and shoulders. I never thought I’d hear myself say that a scream was a glorious sound, but hers was. Once she hit the ground, I made sure she got buried under the clusterfuck of hail. Served her right for snaking her way into my mind.
No more movement came from the pile of ice that was once in the shape of a female named Sarah. Still, I couldn’t hide my shock when I saw the man continuing to advance toward me, his pace slower than before and his blood dripping onto the snow-covered ground. The hail must’ve injured him.
Good.
I gasped as soon as the moonlight hit one side of him, allowing me to finally catch sight of his face.
A face so familiar, I would’ve known it by touch alone.
I couldn’t help my reaction. I felt like I’d just been sucker punched in the gut, and that was an understatement, not an overreaction.
Standing before me was my best friend—my only friend other than my siblings.
Dean.
Hurt didn’t seem to come close to describing how I felt in that moment.
In his hand was my snowflake necklace—the one my father gave to me so very long ago—the necklace I now knew to be The Relic.
I was stunned. I had no words. Well, no words that I could manage to form with my mouth, even though a million and one questions were rattling through my brain in that fraction of a second. Who was he working for? How long has he known he would turn on me? Was any of it real? Was he ever my friend or was I just a means to an end? And what did he want with my necklace?
Instead, all I could manage to spit out was the word, “Why?” That one simple word was only a whisper, but I knew for a fact that he could hear me through the thick, evil atmosphere surrounding us.
“Easy answer, Kirsi. Power. It’s always been about gaining power,” he responded with a shrug and a wicked grin I’d never seen him possess.
I still couldn’t comprehend. I’d always thought Dean was the male version of me… strong-willed, smart, sophisticated, hardworking, and above all else, kind.
Yet here he stood in front of me, trying to belittle me and manipulate me all for the greater evil.
Yes, my words were correct… the greater evil, not the greater good… because there was nothing good about the man who stood in front of me.
I felt like I was going to be sick at any moment. Just the sense of his eyes on me made my stomach turn.
I knew what I had to do, and I prayed to the gods it was the right decision the entire time.
It felt like slow motion as I reached for the charm before immediately surprising Dean with the fiercest roundhouse kick I’d ever attempted. My limbs were still heavy with sedation, like I’d been drugged one hundred times over. Still, I was so goddamn pissed, my heart feeling the wickedest sense of betrayal, that I didn’t give a rat’s ass when my necklace chain flaked apart with the force of my movements. All I cared about was the snowflake charm I now held in my hands.
All I cared about was keeping it from evil.
My breaths came heavy as I watched a man who used to be my best friend stagger to his feet.
“You want a second round with me?” I said, my words slurring like I’d been drinking for hours. No matter how groggy I felt, I still couldn’t let him get away with this.
Instinctively, I held my fists up in defense, ready and waiting for him to make his move.
It didn’t matter whether I expected his advance or not, I still jumped with surprise when he darted toward me, his movements much faster than I ever remember.
One single flinch was all it took for him to take me down.
My head throbbed as I smashed into the ground with a hard thud, my icy antics making the hit more intense than normal.
“Just give it up, Kirsi. Fighting for it will only make it worse,” he said, his face disgustingly close to mine, so close I could feel his breath on my cheeks. The idea that I’d once trusted this man made my skin crawl.
I tried to speak, but his forearm was crushing my throat, restricting most of the air trying to travel through my trachea. All that passed between my lips were a series of wheezes and coughs.
He was clearly trying to kill me.
Some friend.
I wanted to struggle—wanted to fight. There was no way in the seven layers of hell I’d let him get his grimy hands on my snowflake pendant. He’d have to pry it from my cold, dead hands in order to take it from me. No matter how angry I was about his betrayal, I still felt so lethargic. Drugs didn’t survive inside my body though, so there was no way Sarah could’ve administered anything into my system to slow me down. My blood was too thick, too cold, for medications to flow through my veins.
Dean’s hold increased, causing my vision to blur and darken around the edges. Just as I looked into his eyes, eyes that now had the overwhelming blackened look of evil, pure instinct kicked in and my knee made contact with his groin, causing him to release his hold on me and roll onto his side. Groans emanated from him as I gasped, trying to recover by drawing air deep into my lungs. I needed to get as far away from him as possible.
I was mentally beating myself up as I continued to try and catch my breath. I couldn’t understand what had taken me so long to kick Dean in the berries, other than maybe my shock that he was turning on me in the first place. Friends don’t ever anticipate besties turning into evil bastards.
“What the hell do you want my necklace for, Dean?” I asked as I towered over his crumpled form, my legs still shaky and weak.
He continued to roll around on the ground while holding his junk and moaning in pain.
Man, I got him good.
Part of me wanted to smile for my stellar hit. Another part of me pitied myself for losing a good friend.
“You better speak up soon, Dean. You know me well enough to know how cursing impatient I can be,” I said, my tone threatening and wild.
A wheeze escaped his chest as he teetered onto his hands and knees, one hand still protecting his jewels. He arched his back as he straightened into an upright kneeling position, looking me in the eyes as he spoke. “Quit calling me Dean. Christ, I hate that name,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Dean, Dean, Dean,” I teased. “Unless you actually tell me the truth about who you really are, I’m going to keep calling you Dean.”
He grumbled. His face would have looked fierce with those black eyes if it weren’t for the pain etched in his features. Pain that I put there thanks to my fabulous chucks.
My stance stayed defensive as he finally rose to his feet. I could’ve run. I could’ve gotten as far away as my legs would carry me in the time it took from him to recover from my assault on his manhood. But, I had to figure out who the hell was behind all this. There was no other option but to stay.
Now, if only I had the power to pull his mind like Branton…
Branton!
Considering he knew Sarah, and assuming he used his place at the university to do some research into our world, he should’ve known who—or more so what—she was. He also didn’t give a flick for Dean. Whether that was because of stupid male jealousy or something more otherworldly, I’d find out soon enough.
“Dean,” I said, accentuating the name he supposedly hated. “Tell me who the hell is after The Relic and what they want it for. You owe me this much.”
“I don’t owe you shit, Kirsi,” he spat back. “And the name is definitely not Dean!”
I sighed with all of zero fucks for what his real name was.
It was then that I realized there was purple crystals hanging from my hand—the hand that held my pendant.
I was gripping it so hard, so tight, that it dug into my skin, causing me to bleed.
Dean noticed too, his lips forming into a sinister smile as he straightened even more, finally recovering from his squished ping-pongs.
There was nothing left to do but run.
17
I suddenly wished I had a car. This running shit was for the birds.
As soon as I stepped foot past the large building, I knew where I was, and it was nowhere near my bar or my home.
Curses.
I tried to be stealthy as I hit the main street and, after seeing all the people, suddenly defaulted to a fast-paced walk, my eyes and ears alert for any suspicious passing humans. There were too many mortali around, and I couldn’t risk outing myself or any other sancti by making a scene. Never mind the fact that I couldn’t quite figure out why the hell there were so many people in this area of the city at this time of night. The inlets and waterways were usually dull at night, not that fishermen couldn’t go out, but that they’d rather go out in the morning… get it over with before they were exhausted and drunk.
Usually, I would have to concentrate hard on my powers. The risk I’d lose control was too great. But this time, I didn’t have to focus nearly as hard when I chose to extend my mind outward, feeling and thinking about all the moisture around my body and the hoard of people around me.
There he is, I thought. I could feel him only about three yards behind me. There were several mortali between my form and his, making any move from either of us dangerous. I had no issues controlling my powers, keeping them held tight inside me until absolutely necessary, all while fighting off the lethargic feeling that was overtaking me with every goddamn step.
That was when Sarah’s words came back to me. I just stuck a black tourmaline crystal laced with Nerium in her jacket pocket…
Damn.
Something was in my jacket that might’ve been slowing me down.
On the one hand, I wanted to ditch the so-called kryptonite so that my defenses were at their prime. On the other hand, I needed to hang onto it, figure out what the fuck it was that was making me feel drugged and nearly out of control.
That was when an idea popped into my head.
I’d have to ditch the stone somewhere safe—a place where warlocks couldn’t step foot in.
The throng of people around us was damn near suffocating as I kept my pace calm and strong—well, as calm and strong as I could manage with a sloth hanging on my back. At least, that was what it felt like.
Passing by a local bar, patrons sitting outside as heaters warmed the deck, I overheard a couple ask someone what time the boat parade was planning to start.
Ahh. The boat parade.
That made total sense and explained why there were so many people taking over the streets.
I felt naked without my pendant hanging around my neck as I continued to muse about where I could stash whatever it was that was slowing me down. Just as soon as I reached into my other pocket and fingered the snowflake, relief flooded through me. I couldn’t be sure if it was the gods looking after me, or if it was just lucky coincidence, but I couldn’t hold back a grin when I caught sight of a rather large church, the wooden doors still open, flooding the street in front of me with light.
I couldn’t be sure of it, but deep in my gut, I had a feeling the possessed Dean wouldn’t be able to set foot in a church.
“Well, here goes nothin’,” I whispered as I began a sprint toward the gates of heaven.
The closer I got to the building, the calmer my heart became, the atmosphere around me changing for the better. That was when I chanced a glance back at Dean and realized he’d stopped. He stood there just watching me walk through the doors of the church with a scowl on his face.
I was damn good at pissing people off.
Instead of barreling through the doors like a bat out of hell, I decided to slow my stride and ease my way into the well-lit cathedral.
The place was absolutely stunning—otherworldly in feel and in décor. I felt like a bull in a china shop as I stepped lightly on the red runner leading up the main aisle. Aside from the relaxed feeling that overcame me, I felt nervous that I would be caught where I didn’t belong. I didn’t know very many sancti that frequented a catholic church, and there had to have been a reason for that little fact.
I tiptoed toward the altar, the act making me feel like a stalker, an outsider of some sort, no matter how drawn I was to the crucifix statue that was the focus of the whole room. I couldn’t help but stare at the man on the cross, a sacrifice for us all. I was not a very religious person, but just one look at the crucifix had me feeling both thankful and sympathetic for the man who died for human kind. And when I said I wasn’t a religious person, I didn’t mean I wasn’t spiritual in some shape or form. Did I believe that one entity ruled us all? No. But did I believe that he had a part in our existence? No doubt. There was no way I would even exist if it weren’t for a higher being… and there was no way evil would exist without said being either.
There was always a balance.
And I was sure as fire hoping that balance would assist me at that moment.
Hesitation began to overwhelm me when I reached the altar platform. I was definitely not in the right place and had no intention of sacrificing my soul for a favor. Looking around, I noticed the empty sanctuary and began to beeline it toward the doors. I knew I had to get rid of the stone that was in my pocket, but I also had a strong feeling I couldn’t do it here.
I placed both hands in my jacket pockets, wrapping my fingers around both my snowflake pendant and what felt like a rough stone, and began heading back outside, my stare focused on the red carpet beneath my feet.
I heard my scream before my mind comprehended what was happening. Without warning, my hand sizzled and burnt when in contact with the stone in my pocket. I was on fire.
As soon as
I reached the foyer, I yanked the offending hunk out of my pocket. Steam rose from my hand, the piece of rock burning holes in my skin as I stared at it in shock. It didn’t take but a second to toss the black crystal… anything to get it as far away as possible from my skin and avoid the pain.
I yelled out, my holler echoing off the stained-glass windows and stone walls. The plop of a mass falling into a pool of water caught my attention, and I immediately covered my loud mouth and looked for the source of the sound.
There it was… the black tourmaline crystal I’d just had in my hand at the bottom of the bowl, submerged in holy water. If the fact that it scorched my skin didn’t bother me, the bubbling from contact with holy water definitely did.
I gasped and backed away, my back bumping into another bowl of holy water just across the isle. I couldn’t help but freak a bit when water splashed on my leathers and the floor, the sound more deafening than my own breath.
Before I knew what was happening, a woman came over and scooped the stone from the water, the scowl on her face scarier than the past thirty minutes combined.
Her hand didn’t burn… didn’t sizzle like mine had just moments before.
The holy water.
I stared at the hand that held the crystal, my eyes wide in amazement.
“You’re such a careless child,” she scolded, and I cowered at her words. I knew she was right. I was careless.
Still, my mother had never been around for me before, so I was going to be damned if some strange woman with a control complex was going to boss me around now. In defiance, I stood tall, showing her I wasn’t frightened in the least at her words.
Regardless of how true they were.
Without another word, she turned on her heel and stormed into a doorway just beside the restrooms. I knew better than to follow, but she still had my stone in her hand. And that stone shouldn’t have been in the hands of anyone, let alone some mortali on a power trip.
Against my better judgment, but clearly having no choice, I rushed to shadow her, barely wedging my body into the door before it slammed shut behind us. The room was cozy… small… and completely filled with books from floor to ceiling.
Heroines and Hellions: a Limited Edition Urban Fantasy Collection Page 79
