Queer Magick

by Davis, L. C.

  "Daniel," I sobbed. "Please, Daniel is..."

  "Daniel is dead," Locke said flatly. All the sympathy that had been in his eyes vanished, if it had ever really been there at all. He took me by the shoulders and sat me upright. I gasped in anticipation of pain that never came. My body trembled with the echoes of pain, but he had healed every broken bone and gash perfectly. Hope surged in my chest for the first time since looking into Daniel's lifeless eyes.

  "You can help him." It came out as a plea. "You can bring him back."

  "I can't," he said coolly. "Healing broken bones and a punctured lung is one thing, but bringing someone back from the dead? That's another matter entirely."

  "Please," I cried, grasping his shirt. "Locke, please, I'll do anything."

  "Anything?" he purred. The glint in his eyes should have told me everything I needed to know. Some part of me knew that this was no accident, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was that Daniel, Nick's Daniel and the man I had bared my soul to moments earlier, was gone. Yet another innocent life was cut short because of me and I had to bring him back.

  "Yes." My voice was thin but sure. I eased my grip on Locke's shirt as he pulled me to my feet. I stared into his green eyes, incapable of looking away. They danced with moonlight and madness, and I could see my future reflected clearly in them, like a crystal ball. A lifetime spent at his side, his nimble hands drawing power from the earth and the moon and the stars through me, siphoning and molding and refining it into something as beautiful as it was terrible. All the wonderful things and the awful things we would do together. A figure cloaked in red, surrounded by seven blackened souls, turned from crystal blue to tar with the sweetest sin. All of it was under his command, his control. All for him. He had told the truth about not wanting to buy my soul. He just wanted everything else. My life, my body, my servitude, my power, my everything...

  I could keep my soul, if there was anything left of it by the time he was done with me, and Daniel would live. The demon would keep his promise. He always did. I could see it all right there, a thousand years of deals and tricks condensed to an instant. I could see all the fools like me who had succumbed to his silver tongue if not to the lust for his silken flesh beneath theirs.

  "You're not like them," he purred. "They were just pawns, little games to pass the time. I have far greater things in store for you, my whore. My queen. I'm offering the world at your fingertips, and all you have to do is take my hand."

  His words wove a spell around me that made disobedience seem foolish. I took his hand and marveled at the way mine fit so perfectly inside of it. I stared down as his fingers brushed over the back of my hand, pulling me closer to him. He reached out with his other hand, cupping my chin and tilting my head up with the lightest touch, his eyes full of every promise, every sin, every fear and every hope I had ever known. "All of it can be yours," he said, his breath cool as it whispered against my lips. "All you have to do is say yes."

  I clenched my jaw and shut my eyes, desperate to break whatever trance he had me under. Locke promised the world, but I knew without a doubt that he was really offering damnation. It just wasn't enough to shake my resolve. I deserved to burn, just like my mother and Ezekiel and all those other people had because of me. How much more would I deserve it if I let another innocent person die when this time, I had the chance to stop it?

  "Yes," I said through gritted teeth, forcing myself to meet his glittering gaze once more. "I'll do it. I'll be whoever you want me to be, I'll do whatever you want me to do, just bring him back."

  "As you command, my love," he purred, framing my face in his hands. "Now all that's left is to seal the deal."

  My breath caught against his lips as he claimed mine. That kiss hurt more than the wounds he had erased from my body ever had, and I felt like my soul itself was in danger of being ripped out from wherever it resided within me. He held me frozen in his grasp and I could no longer feel the earth beneath my feet as I collapsed in his wicked embrace. My head spun but the ringing stopped and everything became clearer as he finally broke the kiss. He waited a moment before he let me stand on my own and I stumbled forward a little, but he was already on his way back to the truck.

  I watched in bewilderment as the demon unceremoniously flipped the truck over with one hand, snapped Daniel's seatbelt like a thread and dragged his body out onto the ground. The tree limb was still dragging along behind Daniel's body when I fell to my knees in front of them.

  "Be careful!" I hissed. "I didn't lease myself out for all eternity so you could manhandle him."

  "Trust me, he likes it rough," Locke said, pushing me aside as he sat next to Daniel's body and yanked the branch from his chest. It left a gaping hole and my stomach churned at the sight of the grass peeking through a tunnel of flesh and sinew.

  "You're going to have to toughen up a little if you're going to be my witch," said Locke. I watched in a mixture of horror and fascination as his hand hovered inches above Daniel's chest, traveling slowly like he was searching for something. His hand came to a stop just over what was left of Daniel's heart and he pinched his thumb and forefinger together, giving a quick tug like he was plucking a string. A small blue orb materialized over Daniel's chest, hovering for a moment before Locke's hand closed around it.

  "What is that ?"

  "Daniel's soul," he said matter-of-factly. "You're lucky I got here in time. I think Remiel is on delay since we're technically still in Stillwater."

  "Who's Remiel ?"

  "Angel of death. Insufferable redneck," he muttered, pinching the quivering orb of light between his fingers. It looked like it was struggling to get free. "Take your shirt off."

  "What? I'm not --"

  Without waiting for further argument, Locke flattened the hand holding Daniel's alleged soul and shoved it into my chest just underneath my newly healed sternum. It didn't hurt, not until I looked down and saw his hand buried in my flesh. All of a sudden, it felt like my heart itself was on fire and I could feel it straining against his grasp.

  It was over before I could work up the breath to scream. Locke pulled his hand out and I cried out in horror, groping at my unbroken flesh. There was a hole in my shirt and the fabric was bloody and tattered, but it was as if there had never been so much as a cut on me. I looked up in confusion but he was already leaning over Daniel's lifeless form, watching expectantly.

  "What.... how... ?"

  "Shh," he said, giving me a dismissive wave as he held his bloody hand over the hole in Daniel's chest. Murmuring something that sounded vaguely like Latin, he focused intently and my stomach churned as I watched the hole close up over Daniel's heart, sealed by unblemished flesh.

  Locke finally turned to me, a satisfied smirk playing at his pale lips. "Now, as I was saying. A soul needs a living vessel, so you'll have to hold onto it until I can find something better."

  "But why not just leave it inside of Daniel?" I cried.

  "So many questions," he groaned, pressing a hand to his temple as he stood. "I forgot what a nag you are. Is this what I'm in for these next few millennia?"

  I stared at him, then down at Daniel's still-lifeless form. Just as I was about to accuse Locke of reneging on our deal, Daniel shot upright with a painful gasp, clutching his chest. I rushed to his side, struggling to keep him from standing.

  Locke grimaced. "This is my least favorite part. Let's skip over it until we're somewhere less..." He paused, looking around the remote scenery in distaste. "Outside."

  Before I could respond, he passed a hand over Daniel's eyes and caught him as he went limp. With a snap of his fingers, they were both gone.

  Twenty-Two

  DANIEL

  Waking up from the dead was as painful as I had never imagined it would be. I knew I was dead not just because I remembered what it was like to linger in my body as I felt my consciousness being peeled from my lifeless corpse like a scab, but because of what had happened after.

  Holden's screams echoed shrill in my mind,
but the moment his pain set in, mine was over. Dying was like breathing. In one moment, out the next. I watched the scene of my death playing in front of me like a movie and I was still trying to process how I could be watching myself at all if I was dead when a soft hand found its way into mine. I turned my head and saw my mother. She was standing there in that pretty yellow sundress she always wore on Easter Sunday and she hadn't aged a day since the last one she had spent on earth. Her eyes were warm and brown and her smile was soft as she looked up at me, lacing her fingers in mine.

  "Hi, sweetie."

  "Mom?" The word caught in my throat as I turned to her. When I reached out to touch her, I half expected my hand to pass through her cheek like it always did in my dreams. Like it had that time I'd seen her after the funeral service and spent months convincing myself was just a hallucination.

  "I know it's been a long time for you," she said, her smile turning sad as she let my hand fall away. "For me, it's only been a little while, but I miss you so much. I hate to see you hurting as much as you are. I hate knowing that I caused so much of that pain."

  "You didn't." It was a lie, but it wasn't the first I had told her, so why couldn't the last be something that would make her feel better?

  This time, her smile didn't meet her eyes. "I've come to take you home, Daniel."

  "Home ?" I frowned. "Where's dad?"

  "He's already there. You'll see him soon," she said, beckoning me to follow her to the tree line. I took a step forward, mesmerized by the apparition.

  "Wait," I said, coming to a stop. "How do I know it's really you ?"

  She cocked her head to the side and gave me the same look she had always given me when I did something she didn't quite understand. "You don't recognize your own mother?"

  I hesitated. Something wasn't right. The pull to follow her was strong, but even stronger was the force pulling me in the opposite direction, back to a lifeless body and the carnage I would rather forget. "Just answer one question for me," I said, feeling a twinge of regret for the painful memory I was about to dredge up for us both. "To prove it's really you."

  Her smile faltered. "Alright."

  "The last time I saw you, before you and dad left for the city, we got in a fight. What was it about?"

  "Daniel, it doesn't matter now. Let's not talk about that when there are so many happy memories to catch up on."

  "Answer the question, mom."

  She sighed. "It was about Dennis."

  "Be more specific."

  She pursed her lips. "It was about you and Dennis. But sweetie, that's all in the past now. It doesn't matter anymore," she said, stretching out her arms to welcome me. "Just come here and you'll see."

  I stood there, torn between feeling like the ground was going to burn through my shoes if I stayed and the disappointment that was pulling me back to reality. "Who are you really?" I asked, my voice hoarse.

  "I'm your mother. Who else would I be?"

  I didn't have an answer for that.

  "I answered your question, didn't I?" she continued, offering her hand. "I passed your little test, now let's go."

  "The question wasn't the test," I said, fighting the pull in my chest, calling me back to a heart that wasn't even beating. "You're good at what you do, whoever you are. Pretending to be someone you're not."

  "What gave it away?" she asked, her voice laced with a faint Southern accent as her hand fell to her side.

  "My mother never called me sweetie, for one thing," I said, watching as the apparition of my mother faded, leaving a tall man with reddish-brown hair in her place. I had expected a long black cloak, or a dapper suit, at the very least. Not the plaid-shirt-wearing wannabe cowboy standing in front of me. "And you said Dennis' name without your voice trembling in rage, so there's that."

  He clicked his tongue, sauntering towards me. "That's the thing about humans. All the little quirks and prejudices you hold don't mean much to us on the other side, but they're part of what makes you you. You can get everything else just right, right down to the last hair and freckle, but all it takes is one little word out of place to throw it all off."

  "So, do you get off on impersonating people's dead mothers or is this just a joke to you ?"

  "Consider it a professional courtesy. The name's Remiel, but all my friends call me Remi. Commander of the Heavenly H.O.S.T., Watcher of the Dead Who Rise, and not a half-bad poker player," he said, extending his hand again. "I wear a lot of hats."

  I eyed his hand and kept mine at my side. "I'd rather not."

  "Suit yourself, but that's not how I take souls," he said with a smirk.

  "Souls? What, are you the grim reaper, too ?"

  "I don't much like the term, but sure. That falls under the purview of me and my boys." He cleared his throat. "Sorry, boys and gals. Everything's gotta be PC these days."

  I looked him over, coming up less than impressed. "What's with the Hee Haw routine ?"

  He scowled. "What, you were expecting skeleton in a hoodie? I've gotta be a bore just because I spend my day ferrying stiffs across the great divide ?"

  "Uh, sorry?"

  "It's fine," he grumbled. "Look, I like to do this the easy way. Appear to you as whatever comforts you the most, and I'm real sorry it didn't work out that way. If you wanna file a complaint Upstairs, I completely understand, but we do need to get a move on."

  I noticed he wasn't getting any closer. "What if I don't want to go with you?"

  "Not an option."

  "Then come get me."

  His broad shoulders heaved a heavy sigh. "Don't be like that, Doc. You're a mite crunchy, sure, but you're a decent fellow. I'm not supposed to tell you this, but you've got a pretty sweet setup waiting for you in your next life. All you've gotta do is get through processing."

  "Processing? What about Heaven?" There was also the other place I had always joked would be my automatic destination if the afterlife was real, but it was slightly less amusing now that it was a possibility and I wasn't about to remind Remiel of its existence.

  He rolled his eyes. "You want a comfy suite in the retirement home? Fine. We'll work something out."

  "But you can't make me go," I realized aloud. The look on his face confirmed it.

  "You don't wanna be a lost soul, Daniel. It ain't as glamorous as they make it look in the movies."

  I looked back at the wreckage, but the fog closing in around us was making it impossible to see Holden. I could hear his voice mingling with another, but the tones were slurred and garbled and I couldn't make out anything they were saying. "There was a wolf..."

  "He's fine. The wolf's long gone," said Remiel. "Neither of you are gonna be fine if that demon gets his claws in your soul, though."

  I looked down at my chest. It was solid, but there was a weird feeling underneath the skin, like someone was trying to pull my heart out. "My soul?"

  "Yes," Remiel said, his tone growing impatient. "Come on."

  "Why can't you come to me ?"

  "Because there's a barrier around Stillwater," he said through gritted teeth.

  "The one Locke put up to keep the angels out?"

  "You're asking questions you don't want the answers to, Daniel. Right now, you're still on the outside of it all. That won't be the case if he brings you back."

  "So I can go back?"

  He cringed. "You don't want to."

  "All this angel-demon bullshit is real," I mumbled, taking a step back from him. "That means Heaven really is looking for Holden. If you found him, it's only a matter of time before the others do."

  "You barely even know him!" he cried in frustration.

  "No, but anything that happens to him happens to Nick. That's good enough reason for me to stay where I am."

  "You don't know what you're doing, Daniel. Holden is about to make a deal there's no goin' back on. Bringing you back is bad enough, but you've got no idea the magnitude of what's about to happen to this world. Right now, you're just an innocent bystander. If you go back, you'll be
the enemy and trust me, you don't want to be on Heaven's Most Wanted list."

  The pull was getting stronger, and it felt like there was a ball of fire--or maybe ice--being pulled through my breastplate. I clutched my chest, like I could hold back whatever it was if I tried hard enough.

  "Daniel!" Remiel barked.

  All at once, a blue light burst from my chest and the illusion of my astral body disintegrated. I realized too little, too late that the thing being pulled out of my chest was me when I was dragged back into the land of the living and flooded with all the pain and terror that thirty-three years of life had desensitize me to. It was like being born all over again, only this time I had the sentience and the experience to know what I was in for. That first gasp of breath was excruciating and I could barely make out the sound of Holden's panicked cry and the demon Locke's agitated prattling. Locke's hand swept over my eyes and my brief glimpse into my second life faded to black.

  Twenty-Three

  HOLDEN

  "Locke!" I cried, stumbling through the woods in the dark. I was pretty sure my legs looked like a well-used tic-tac-toe board at that point with all the briars and fallen twigs clawing at me even through my jeans, but my skin still thrummed with Locke's healing energy. Or maybe he had just used my energy and twisted it to his own purpose. It was a distinction I'd have to make later, assuming he hadn't just run off with Daniel and my power.

  The fact that I was lost in the middle of the woods might not have been so bad in and of itself, but I reminded myself that there was still a wolf out there somewhere. Or maybe it was a bear. It had all happened too fast to tell for sure, even with the brief illumination of the beast in the headlights. I still hadn't seen Nick's alpha form, so I wasn't sure what to compare it to, but the beast in the road had a decidedly canine appearance. Those golden eyes were too familiar for it to have been a startled animal. That meant a wolf--a member of Nick's pack--had intentionally run us off the road.

  I heard a low rumble but the moment I thought I had identified the direction it was coming from, it seemed to be coming from somewhere else entirely. I froze and regretted ever leaving the path to search. Golden eyes pierced the darkness and I found myself incapable of taking any but the shallowest of breaths.