The Dark Calling

by Kresley Cole

  "While she's pregnant and powerless? Non. No way in hell." Reading my expression, he said, "You show me some oaks or some big powers, and we'll talk. Until then, you need to hole up somewhere safe. If a weapon comes our way, then I will be heading in."

  Joules turned to me. "Are you goin' to let Jack go up against four Arcana, including the three-time winner?"

  Against Death? "Never."

  Jack and I exchanged determined looks.

  "Then what're we doing?" Joules threw up his hands. "Any weapon's useless without a hero to wield it."

  "That's for Circe to figure out," I said. "Our job is to stay alive long enough to use whatever she comes up with. Look, she might figure out how to short-circuit the sphere. In which case, we can all ride in, full-force. Let's give the lady a chance. It's only been a few days." I turned to Kentarch. "While we wait, you could continue your search for Issa. I've been hearing all kinds of accents, which means people have come here from across the country. Question them. Show them her picture. Someone might have seen her. With good nutrition, you could teleport from here each night."

  Kentarch tilted his head. "Very well. But once my leads are exhausted, I will be forced to move on. Issa awaits me . . . ."

  29

  Later that night, I lay on a lumpy pallet listening to the gusting winds that rocked our new home: the highest shipping container in a stack of them.

  We'd gotten the worst accommodations because the Chariot had refused to sell his chariot, and we had nothing to barter besides weapons.

  "You got a hide-a-key," Jack had said. "If we need the truck, you can just steal it back from the parking yard." They were already planning to ghost through the wall of Jubilee's arsenal and reclaim their weapons--probably the only reason Jack had given up his crossbow, with great reluctance.

  Kentarch had shaken his head firmly. "I need to own it, so I can offer it as a reward for information leading me to Issa."

  Jack had opened his mouth to argue, but surprisingly, he'd backed off.

  Another gust hit. I squeezed my eyes shut. Would we be blown right into the trench?

  Think of something else. I laid my hands on my belly, but quickly drew them away. This pregnancy was no comfort. The opposite of.

  Even over the winds, I heard Joules's soft snores. Were Jack and Kentarch asleep as well? The guys had cots on the other end of the container, giving me the pallet behind a curtain on this end.

  When the tin-can salesman--a Ciborium guard--had shown us this place, he'd asked the guys, "Is she with all of you?" We'd learned that four usually lived in one of these containers, a wife and husbands--plural. Because Jubilee encouraged females to marry a minimum of three.

  While Jack had been momentarily stumped by the man's question and Kentarch incredulous, Joules had snorted. "Sounds right." Dick.

  Before leaving, our salesman had advanced the guys gear for the trench--waterproof coveralls, performance boots and gloves, neon quilted parkas, and miners' helmets--against their future finds.

  The Ciborium company store demanded eighty percent of everything workers salvaged.

  We'd also received a few boxes of macaroni and cheese, since Lorraine insisted that all newcomers got a meal advance. This was the first time since the Flash that any stranger had offered up food--other than human flesh or the poisoned fare the Hermit had plied me with.

  I'd been suspicious--was this a feast when our stomachs cleave?--but nothing bad had happened.

  The tin can came with some cookware and a potbellied stove with enough busted-up wooden crates to start a fire for boiling water. Jack had helped me prepare the food, giving me more from his share. As usual. I'd been about to protest, but he'd glanced at my stomach and said, "Tee needs it more than I do."

  Another gust rocked the container. I turned on my side, then to my other. Anxiety bubbled up inside me. Finally, I whispered, "Jack?"

  The curtain drew back at once. "I'm here." He'd just been waiting there? "I'd hoped you were sleeping through this." Shirtless and barefoot, he wore only a low-slung pair of jeans and his rosary.

  I held out my hand for him. He closed the curtain behind him, then lay beside me on the pallet. Even in the low firelight of the stove, I could make out the new scar on his chest. The last time I'd seen him without a shirt, he'd just taken Aric's advice to sear the Lovers' mark, obscuring it.

  I reached forward to touch the scar. "This healed well."

  "Put it with my collection." He sighed. "Might as well get this over with." He turned to reveal raised scars across his back.

  I stifled a gasp, unable to imagine that pain. Don't cry, don't cry. "What happened?" I traced one, making him shiver.

  "I was a disobedient slave."

  Those slavers had whipped my Jack. I balled my fists, my claws sharpening.

  "They made a mess of me, non?" In a gruff tone, he said, "Not like you're used to with perfect Death?"

  "He has scars as well. He's not perfect. Besides, do you think I give a damn about scars when you're alive?"

  The winds howled, shifting the container stack once more. Jack faced me, noting my wary gaze. "I'm goan to get us a better place soon." In Jubilee, you didn't work your way up, but down.

  "I'm grateful to have a roof over our heads and food. Thank you for getting us here."

  "You deserve more." Shadows crossed his expression as he said, "When Dominija told me how you were 'indulged' in every way at that castle, I wanted to throat-punch him--because we all knew I could never provide the life that he could. I'll never be able to spoil you like you were used to. You were raised to expect better."

  "Jack, that's not me anymore. That's not anyone now," I said, though I thought Lorraine was doing pretty well for herself inside her megayacht. "Let's focus on what we've got right now."

  "Not my nature, me. I need to be thinking about the long game. Need to be working toward something. At least we could kill it at salvage here."

  When Lorraine had explained that they had more bounty than hands to harvest it, she'd been a touch disingenuous. We'd found out there'd been a Rift, what the locals called mass deaths when the pile of ships moved, trapping salvagers beneath the surface. That was why the Ciborium had sent a flare to call others to the new coast.

  Jack was heading into danger tomorrow, and nothing I'd said could dissuade him.

  I tried to look on the bright side of Jubilee. No one forced folks into the trench. Lorraine's armband patrol kept order. With her plank, she was a ruthlessly effective leader.

  So why did my intuition tell me she was a threat? Or was that my paranoia, born from bitter experience?

  Echoing my misgivings, the wind blasted over this metal box, sounding like the scream of that condemned man.

  When I shuddered, Jack pulled the blanket up higher around me. "Doan be scared. I've got you."

  I loved it when he said that, but . . . "I can't help it. Even if it's not the wind and this strange place, it's the future." I burrowed into the blanket. "Though I wish I was fearless, I'm not. I still get afraid."

  "But you do brave things. That's what matters."

  "Only when I have no other choice." Anything "brave" I'd ever done had been because the alternative was unthinkable.

  Storm the Lovers' camp to save Jack from torture? Of course.

  Draw down on that bottomless pit? No thank you. If uncontrollable emotion could turn a card, would that well reverse me?

  "Doan matter why you do something. Just that you do." His hand absently strayed to his rosary. It'd belonged to his mother, but he'd never revealed to me how she'd died.

  "I just wish I had a better handle on what was coming my way. I'm afraid of the unknown. Of labor. Of having a kid when there's no sun. We're all on borrowed time. Why would I ever put someone else in that situation?"

  "Mark my words, Evangeline, there'll be sun again one day for Tee."

  I wished I could believe that. "This limbo is about to drive me crazy." Was I married? Would Aric ever be in my life again? A m
emory arose of him saying, I was called Aric. It means a ruler, forever alone. But, for a time, he hadn't been alone. He'd been happy with me. Or I'd thought he had been.

  Real? Unreal?

  "Maybe we doan have to be in limbo." Jack hesitated, gazing past me with his brows drawn. "I told you how things were goan to go down. But now, I got new information."

  "What are you thinking?"

  He faced me. "We might have another option besides the castle. There's work here and a doctor for the baby. You're safer from Richter on the coast. Jubilee's better than the Ash, and it beats dying at the hands of other Arcana."

  "Is Jubilee better? I didn't get the greatest feeling about Lorraine."

  "I thought she was okay. She's got this place running smooth."

  I quirked a brow.

  "Look, if you doan like it here, then let me build up enough of a stash to last us for a few months. We get twenty percent of whatever we find. With Kentarch, we could smuggle out even more. Once we're outfitted, we'll head south. The Fool hinted that I could do some good down there." He held my gaze. "Bottom line: Death ain't your only option."

  "We can't just leave him under Paul's control." I still burned to fight for him. But I didn't know if I burned to be with him. Could I ever move past his attack and my nightmares? "Aric once told me that you were the closest thing he's had to a friend since his father died. Would you abandon him to his fate?"

  Jack's jaw muscle ticked. How did he feel about that admission?

  "I thought you felt gratitude toward him for saving me."

  "Exactly! You and I both know Dominija wouldn't want you anywhere near that castle. He'd want me to keep you and Tee safe. Here with me. That arrogant bastard would beg me to keep you."

  Normally, Aric would. "How can I leave him behind? I wouldn't abandon you."

  "You're not hearing me--I would want you to, would pray you abandoned me."

  When I remained unmoved, Jack turned on his back, staring at the ceiling. "Logic flies out the window when you're in love, non?"

  What to say to that? Of course, I still loved Aric, but my need to save him was based on more than love. I couldn't stand the thought of him, Lark, and Gabriel vulnerable to Paul.

  Jack exhaled a long breath. "I thought I was cursed because the people of my blood only love once. But you got it worse. You're cursed to love two men."

  "Cursed." I could think of worse ways to describe my conflicted situation. When Aric and I had spent the night at that slave boss's house together, I'd realized that whenever I was with him, things reminded me of Jack, with the opposite true as well. Which meant I was forever screwed. If I chose one, I'd never stop thinking about the other. I'd concluded that pain awaited me, no matter what I did.

  "If life with one of them isn't possible, peekon, then you're goan to have to make do." Jack took my hand. "Now, that's all I'll say on the subject, me. You got to figure out your fate, take charge of it. Just like I need to take control of mine."

  He'd once told me he could handle all of this apocalyptic bullshit better than he could handle life before the Flash, because at least now he had more control over his fate.

  But taking charge of mine would mean cutting out the variables I couldn't affect--such as all the uncertainty surrounding Aric.

  I wouldn't rush a decision, despite the emotions I felt for Jack.

  Despite the hopelessness I felt over Aric.

  "Tomorrow me and the guys are goan to head out early. While we're out, you can relax here."

  "You want me to stay inside? By myself?" I'd go stir-crazy in this tin can. I might grudgingly accept why women didn't get to salvage, but I could do something.

  "Not saying forever. Just till we get the lay of the land. A week or two at most." He cut off my protest: "If you're running around in the settlement, I'll be too worried about you to concentrate on the job at hand."

  "On the dangerous job at hand." Kentarch had mentioned that the water in the trench was so cold, it'd kill in moments.

  Shrug. "It is what it is."

  "What about announcing ourselves as Arcana? You used to tell everyone what we are."

  "That was . . . damn it, Evie, our situation has changed. The last thing I want to do is bring attention to you."

  Oh. "Because I have no jaw-dropping abilities." He'd witnessed my paltry defense against the Emperor and didn't disagree. "Jack, what if I don't have too little power? What if I have too much? In our last skirmish with Richter, I detected seeds in the earth--hundreds of thousands of them. When I called on them, the ground quaked."

  His eyes widened. "That was you? You actually spooked Richter! I thought he'd sensed Circe. Why didn't you attack?"

  "Because I glimpsed what I'm truly capable of, and it terrified me. I can't control a force that primal. No one could." At his frown, I said, "You know my powers are fueled by emotion, but rage burns hottest." Like rocket fuel. Easy to burn but polluting. "And now I've got a huge toxic well on tap."

  My tourniquet had helped me survive tragedy. But with no outlet, my wrath had just burgeoned inside me.

  "You always worried about turning into the red witch and never coming back. Give me the worst-case scenario. What would happen then?"

  "I don't even want to consider the possibility." I lowered my voice. "She loves to kill Arcana--like my friends. I didn't tell you this, but in some ways, my grandmother was hateful. She told me that to become the Empress I was meant to be, I needed to draw on my hatred and pain. She pressured me to kill Aric, Lark, and Circe in cold blood."

  Jack winced. "But what if you doan unleash the witch and you die? Though we got lucky with Richter, the monsters are just goan to keep coming. Somehow you've got to learn to turn your power on and off."

  "On is a problem--because off is a problem."

  "You got a kid to think about now. If that toxic well saves your life, then you drink it, you guzzle it, you dive in. You got no choice."

  I held his gaze. "I think there will come a time when I've sunk so deep that I can never resurface." Then I'd become the red witch forever. My grandmother had actually been surprised that my hair wasn't red nor my eyes green.

  Uneasiness swept over me, because that future was beginning to seem . . . inevitable.

  "On that recording, you said I helped you."

  I nodded. "You're my reminder that I want to be good. You're my link to humanity."

  "Then I can be there to pull you back to safety." He took in my anxious expression and said, "Just think about it. We'll keep talking it out, okay? In the meantime, if you're not ready to draw on that well, then you've got to stay out of sight here."

  "That's a big ask."

  "I know it is. I hate even the idea of it. But again, we doan have a choice." When another gust rocked the container, he looked whipped with guilt, which wouldn't do.

  "Fine. I'll stay inside until you think it's safe." I'd spend the days practicing with my abilities and trying to communicate with Matthew and Circe. Maybe I'd call Aric again, just to make sure he was still safe. "You win, okay?" I put my hand on Jack's cheek.

  He inhaled deeply, and his lids grew heavy. I expected him to kiss me, would welcome it, but he made no move to. Jack could still love me; didn't mean he was as attracted to me.

  I was beginning to fear he didn't want me that way anymore. Which really sucked. Not that I was DTF, as Mel used to say, but I still wanted to be wanted.

  He seemed to give himself a shake. "So much is goan on behind those eyes of yours. But you need to rest."

  "Will you stay with me?"

  "Ouais. I'll be here, watching over you and Tee."

  "You need sleep, to be ready for tomorrow--" I tensed, my stomach suddenly feeling strange. Flutter, flutter. "Something's off." Flutter, flutter. I took his hand and put it over my belly. "Can you feel that quiver? Oh, God, they probably poisoned our dinner!"

  He grinned. "Or it could be your kid moving."

  "Oh. Ohh." We stared at each other. "Can you feel it?" He hadn't r
emoved his big, warm hand. I relaxed under his comforting touch, sleepiness washing over me.

  "Might be too early for me to, non?"

  "You're asking me?" We both knew so little about this subject. Once the feeling had gone, I said, "How weird."

  "Maybe Tee's telling us everything's goan to be okay."

  "Maybe." I started to nod off. My last thought before sleep took me: Jack never removed his protective hand.

  30

  The Hanged Man

  Day 582 A.F.

  I walked a fine line with Death.

  As Gabe and I sat before the man's desk in his firelit study, my gaze roamed over the great Grim Reaper.

  He wore no armor, and blond stubble covered his jawline. He stared out the window at the falling snow, having little interest in our game of Tarot trumps.

  Gabe sorted his hand with talon-tipped fingers. "'Tis a boring life with no battle to flavor our days," he said, his speech as outdated as ever.

  "Sometimes boring is good." My own hand looked promising.

  Death made no remark. His cards lay facedown on the desk, ignored.

  Yes, a fine line. On the one hand, I needed the Reaper to despise Evie, so I sent him reminders to stoke his animosity. On the other hand, the more he hated her, the more he hungered to go end her.

  I wished I could read his thoughts. Unfortunately, my telepathy was one-way, my ability limited to hints, suggestions, commands.

  I'd told Evie that I couldn't brainwash. Long story short: I lied. Why did everyone always assume villains told the truth? I'm the TRAITOR, for fuck's sake.

  I could imagine what the Reaper would write in his notes about me. Hanged Man: card reversal, absolute invulnerability, concealment, telepathy, emotion and trust manipulation. Plus, my handy sphere, a.k.a. an evil aura.

  But I couldn't read minds. Luckily, I was adept at reading moods. Under his desk, Death ran his fingers along a red ribbon. From what I could gather, that ribbon reminded him of when the Empress had first taken up with Jack Deveaux.

  More than three weeks had passed since Death had learned of their reunion--weeks of his roiling jealousy.

  Gabe played a card: the three of swords. "How goes Fauna's search for the Empress?"

  I answered, "She told me it's as if they'd disappeared." No kidding, Lark. I'd wanted to strike her baffled face. "Which, of course, they did."