Edge of Dreams

by Diana Pharaoh Francis

  “All right then,” Percy said as Alan set a pile of red mechanics’ rags on the seat, followed by what looked like an aerosol can topped with a blow-torch apparatus. “Looks like we can get started. Now Riley, this will hurt quite a bit, but I think this time the process will be more effective in teaching you that obeying me is the wisest choice.”

  “Please! Don’t do it!” Taylor begged.

  She lunged forward on her knees and shoved my hand off the chair. Alan grabbed her by the arms and dragged her backward. She kicked at him, twisting and elbowing as she fought his iron grip. He grunted and swore when she smashed her head into his mouth. He staggered back, and she pulled an arm loose . Swinging around, she kicked him in the side of the knee. It went out from under him.

  Before she could do more damage, Luke was there. He put his arms around her, clamping her arms to her sides, and picked her up. He carried her back to where Madison’s father and sister sat and set her down. Clamping her wrists in one hand and locking one of her legs between his, he efficiently fastened her wrists together with riot cuffs. He pushed her down to the ground and grabbed a roll of duct tape I hadn’t noticed. He wrapped her ankles, then slapped a piece over her mouth. Her enraged yells cut off abruptly.

  “Thank you, Luke. I see your lessons have been well learned. Alan, do stop whining. You ought to have been more than a match for Taylor. I’m very disappointed.”

  Alan paled and went silent as he pushed himself to his feet, his left foot barely touching the ground.

  “Now, let us begin, shall we?” Percy said and gave me a smile of pure malice. “I’ll try not to hurt you too much.”

  I translated that into he’d hurt me as much as possible and enjoy the fact that I could do nothing but sit there and take it.

  Except—I didn’t have to.

  I had one weapon. All my enemies were within range. All I had to do was activate my skull null, and everyone would be incapacitated with pain. My null should free me from the spell holding me prisoner, and I’d be able to duct-tape all of them and deactivate the null.

  Easy.

  You’d think by now I’d have learned that easy is never a word that describes anything in my life.

  I activated the null as Percy reached for my hand.

  Then screamed as he chopped off the end of my thumb anyway.

  Chapter 20

  Blood spurted over the arm of the chair. Shock froze me in place, even as the spell imprisoning me vanished. Barnes moaned and staggered away. He crashed to the floor, seizing with pain. His body shook and shivered. His legs, arms, and body bucked and flopped as every inch of the forty-some-odd miles of nerves in his body came under attack. Alan and Luke did the same.

  Nerve pain hurts more than just about anything.

  Except maybe having your thumb cut off.

  I rolled away as Percy lunged at me, the shears held high like he was going to clobber me in the head with them.

  How was he still in control of himself?

  He didn’t have any nulls. I’d have felt them.

  Blood continued to pour out of my thumb. I folded it inside my fingers and gripped tight to help stanch the flow. Unfortunately, my null was sucking the juice out of the heal-all. Percy stalked forward, his head lowered, his eyes narrowed to slits. Adrenaline and a thrill of danger rushed through me. I tensed to run. I’d never seen this side of him. He was always so three-piece-suit uptight. I backed away.

  I flicked a quick glance about to see where I was. I was nowhere near where they’d stripped away my flak jacket and gun belt. I’d backed up too far to reach Barnes’s or Alan’s weapons, and worse, Percy stood between them within easy reach of either. He hadn’t realized it yet. I edged to my right, hoping he’d keep following.

  He didn’t.

  “I surprised you, didn’t I?” he said, turning to face me as I backed toward my gear.

  “How are you doing it?” Keeping him distracted seemed like a good idea, plus I really wanted to know.

  He smiled, a pirate smile. “Turns out I’m immune to most magic. It is, quite ironically, my magical talent. Healing magic does work, thankfully. Sparkle Dust is another story, though I had high hopes for it. I still do.”

  “Are you insane? That stuff is toxic. I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.” Actually, I’d wish it on Percy in a heartbeat. He was immune to magic? If I hadn’t just seen it for myself, I wouldn’t think it was possible.

  “Eventually I’ll learn the secret to stabilizing its effects. I will also learn how to use it. If healing magic works on me, then I can make SD work as well.”

  I actually stopped, too stunned to remember that I was trying to get away. “You are fucking crazy. How many people are you going to kill in your harvests? How many people are you going to turn into wraiths on the streets? It’s poison.”

  His head tilted, and a dangerous glint appeared in his eyes. “I was not aware you knew the secret to making Dust,” he said and started toward me again, moving fluidly on the balls of his feet.

  He was stalking me like a lion after a wildebeest. I didn’t want to know what would happen if he caught me this time. Probably the same thing that would happen to the wildebeest. Given the viciousness of Percy’s expression, losing fingers seemed like the least of my worries.

  I backed up. I didn’t dare take my eyes off Percy. Given the slightest opportunity, he’d plow me down. I guided myself in the general direction of my gun belt and flak jacket, hoping I’d bump up against them. I had no idea how I’d get the gun before Percy grabbed me and jammed the point of the shears into my eye socket.

  The only sounds in the hangar were moans and whimpers and my own harsh breathing. Sweat broke out on my forehead, and along my back and ribs. Percy continued to pace steadily toward me. My hand throbbed with fiery heat, and I was starting to feel woozy as if my null had started drawing on me for power. It was way too soon for it to have used itself up, I assured myself. The shock and blood loss from losing part of my thumb was making my brain spin inside my head. It had nothing to do with the null.

  Percy’s relentless silence had started to unnerve me. Abruptly, he shifted speeds and came at me faster. The twenty feet between us turned into ten. He held the shears low, like he was going to gut me. My brain screamed run!

  Instead, my training kicked in. My dad had started me through a constant wringer of defensive training starting after my mom was killed. I was no martial arts master. That hadn’t been the point. He wanted me to be able to save myself if someone jumped me. He taught me to fight dirty and fight smart. So instead of running, I waited until Percy closed the distance to five feet, then three. His arm cocked back, and he thrust at my stomach. I stepped to the side, dodging his strike. In the same moment, I grabbed his wrist in my right hand and his elbow in my left, clamping tight so I didn’t lose my grip. My blood made his skin slick.

  In dodging to the left, I’d left my right leg slightly extended. I pulled him across it, twisting his arm down and around as he fell, letting his weight do the damage. His arm made a crackling, popping sound as his shoulder dislocated and bone broke. The metal shears clattered to the ground.

  He let out a high-pitched shriek. I didn’t wait for him to recover. My gun belt was a dozen feet away. I snatched it up and drew the .45. Without hesitation, I smashed the butt into the side of his head twice. He sagged and went unconscious.

  I stood over him, panting. I shoved my gun into my rear waistband. Blood dripped across the floor in a nearly solid line as I fetched the duct tape. I grabbed one of the red mechanics’ rags and pressed it to the exposed stump of my thumb, trying not to look at it and trying not to throw up. I wrapped duct tape around the rag to hold it in place, doing my best to ignore the pain.

  I returned to Percy and bound his feet and hands, using the shears to cut the tape. Next I did the same to the now i
ncapacitated Barnes, Alan, and Luke, after disarming them and searching them for knives or other weapons. By now I was staggering. My shirt was soaked in sweat, and my heart was beating like hummingbird wings. I couldn’t chalk it up to the thumb anymore. It had to be the null. Why? But then it clicked. Taylor’s hangar and helicopters used an enormous load of magic to suppress noise and create a permanent glamour around it. The protections rose up for a half mile. On top of that, she had security, and the ordinary comfort magics that went with the business and life. My null had been sucking up all those. Stir in the fact that traveling through the trace realm had drained my reserves, it was no wonder I was woozy. I was running on fumes.

  I needed to deactivate it before I passed out, otherwise I wouldn’t be able to. I glanced around to make sure I hadn’t forgotten anything. My gaze settled on Luke. He’d burn through his bindings in nothing flat. I found my discarded necklace nulls and dropped them over his head. That should do the trick. I realized then that Taylor remained bound. I cut through the bindings on her hands and peeled the tape off her mouth. She watched me, her body shuddering and twitching with vicious pain.

  Damn. I should have deactivated my null and not waited until I cut her loose. It took me a couple of seconds to focus enough to turn it off. Almost instantly, I dropped to the ground, a marionette with cut strings. I landed on my butt. My left hand banged against the floor. I cradled it against my stomach, rocking back and forth as waves of agony crashed over me.

  “Riley?” Taylor’s voice was hoarse. “Are you okay?”

  I couldn’t unlock my teeth to answer. If I did, I’d have screamed. I couldn’t even cry, I hurt so bad.

  “Oh my God,” Taylor whispered. “He did it. The bastard cut you.”

  I’d have laughed if I could. Cut me? That sounded so harmless. Percy had amputated my thumb. A piece of me was sitting over on the recliner. Remembering that galvanized me. If I wanted to salvage the thumb, I should put it on ice. Even magic couldn’t reattach rotted flesh.

  I startled to struggle up off the floor. I got to my knees, and Taylor put a hand under my arm to lift me.

  “What do you need?”

  “Thumb. Ice.”

  Her body went rigid, but she remained calm. “Right. I can take care of that. I’ll go get some ice. Are you okay here?”

  I nodded, and she slowly released her hold, her hands hovering in case I fell. When I didn’t, she turned and ran to the lounge.

  “Use the heal-all,” Luke said from the floor on my right.

  It took a second to process his words. In the fight with Percy, the cuff had come off my wrist. It was made for a man. I got up and looked for the cuff. I found it beside the chair and put it on. There wasn’t much juice left in it. Still, I could feel it working on my thumb.

  “Is Madison all right?” Luke asked.

  I looked at him. He didn’t look like he had any wraith symptoms. I wonder how long before they started to show. I was tempted to tell him she’d died or something, by way of revenge for killing that family out front and all of Taylor’s employees, but I couldn’t muster up the hate.

  “She’s safe,” I said. “Why did you kill that family out front?”

  “I didn’t kill anyone. That was all Barnes and Alan,” he said, his eyes closing as he slumped. He made a made a noise that was half laugh, half anger. “Percy didn’t trust me to do it. He put me on guarding your sister.”

  “Right. And every murderer on death row was framed. Even if that was true, it didn’t stop you from helping to make it possible. You’re just as guilty as they are. You could have shot every one of them before they knew what hit them.”

  Luke lifted a shoulder. “Percy said he’d go ahead and torture Bill and Robin if I crossed the line.”

  I assumed Bill and Robin were Madison’s father and sister.

  I didn’t know what to say to that, but I didn’t have to answer. Taylor returned carrying a plastic container full of ice and a plastic baggy. She was crying, her face white. Her bottom lip was clenched between her teeth. She’d seen the bodies of her employees and friends littering the hangar and lounge.

  “Why?” she asked raggedly.

  Guilt tied my stomach in knots. “Because of me. I got away from him and he was going to make me pay. You and your people got caught in the crossfire.”

  I didn’t wait for her answer. I twitched the plastic zip baggy from her fingers and went to find the missing stub of my thumb.

  It had fallen to the seat of the chair. I almost couldn’t bear to touch it. My stomach lurched, and it was all I could do to keep it down. There was something infinitely terrible about seeing part of you lying separate from your body. It was so unnatural, it felt like the world was operating under different rules, where down was up and hot was cold and everything I ever knew to be true was suddenly wrong.

  I wasn’t sure how best to pick it up. Then Taylor was beside me.

  “Here,” she said, taking the baggy back. She flipped it inside out around her fingers and picked up my thumb. It was less than an inch long. She pulled the bag off her hand, leaving the stump inside. She sealed the baggy and put it on top of the ice inside the plastic container and put its lid on. “That will take care of it. You need to get to a tinker soon.”

  “Help is supposed to be on the way.” My gaze fixed on the dark bloodstains on the arm of the chair. My blood. But I was alive. My thumb could be reattached. That’s all that mattered.

  I made myself turn around and wiped my face with my good hand. The throbbing of my decapitated thumb had lessened, but not quit. The heal-all had run out of power. “I’ve got friends coming. They should get here soon.”

  “Who?”

  “Price. Touray. Leo, too.”

  She gave me a sharp look.

  “Price is moving in with me,” I said randomly.

  “Okaaay,” she said. “You trust him now?”

  It was a legitimate question, especially given the fact that up until a few days ago I’d been determined not to trust him. Which may not have been me at all.

  “Yeah, about my trust issues . . . Dad messed with my head. Changed me. He made it impossible for me to trust anybody.”

  “No, he didn’t,” she said, brows furrowing. “Dad would never do that.”

  “I thought so, too. Until the shit he put in my head nearly killed me.”

  “Wait—what? Killed you? What do you mean?”

  I shook my head. Now wasn’t the time. I didn’t need an audience for my dirty laundry. “It’s a long story, and—”

  I broke off as a helmeted squad flowed into the hangar in military formation, weapons raised to eye-level. They came in through the doors leading into the front lobby. I didn’t know if they were friendly or not. I thrust an arm out to push Taylor behind me. She ducked and ran to get one of the assault rifles I’d piled out of the way. I was startled at how efficiently she managed it. Dad had taught both of us to shoot, but she hadn’t been a willing student, and had weaseled out of range sessions more often than not. She’d learned more than I thought.

  I had my .45 tucked in my waistband. I drew it, but I was a sitting duck. I couldn’t get to cover before I was dead. On top of that, my hand shook. I wasn’t sure I could hit anything I aimed at.

  “Riley!”

  Price’s shout echoed, and he broke through the ranks in front of him. I wobbled with relief. The cavalry had finally come.

  I found myself pulled into an iron hug. I’d never imagined I’d be so happy to see anyone in my life. Price made me feel safe. Because of him, I’d broken through the walls my dad had built inside my head. With Price, because of Price, I could show the true me, with all the flaws, fears, and insanity. It was a gift. I squeezed my eyes shut against a sudden wash of tears. I’d pushed Price out of my life. What if I hadn’t decided he was worth get
ting back? What if I hadn’t broken down my mental blocks enough to realize how much I wanted to be with him?

  Percy and my father were no different. They’d both mutilated me. Only Percy had had the decency to make sure I knew it. Right then I hated my father. I could hardly breathe as it filled me. Maybe he had a good reason, a rebellious voice whispered in my head. He said it was for my own good. I couldn’t see how.

  Price pushed me away, his gaze running over me like a jeweler examining a diamond for flaws. He scowled at my hand as I cradled it up to my stomach. Using it made the pain return, and I felt blood beginning to seep.

  “What happened?” he demanded. His fingers curled into my hips like hooks.

  “My thumb got cut off.”

  His face went white. His cheeks splotched red. He looked angry. No, that wasn’t enough for it. Enraged. Savage. Rabid. “Who did this to you?” He shook me once.

  I sucked in swift breath, wincing.

  “Sonofa—” He hunched down to look me straight in the eye. “Who did this?”

  “I’ll be okay,” I said. Not to protect Percy, but to dull the bite of wild ferocity crackling around him. His control was frayed. Every muscle knotted tight. Virulent emotion flittered across the granite set of his face and churned in his eyes. Logic was gone; he was running on pure instinct and animal protectiveness. That, and hatred. I could see it eating him, chewing away the edges of his humanity.

  “How did your thumb get cut off?” His tone was almost gentle.

  “Percy.” I rested the flat of my good hand against his face. “I’m okay.”

  “You’re not. He burned you. He cut you. He can’t get away with it.” The last words were guttural, ripped from that dark place inside that none of us talk about, that we pretend doesn’t exist. That place where all our worst fears live and thrive.

  That’s when I realized that this wasn’t just about my thumb, or even the cigarette burns. Losing me, no—not being able to protect me—was Price’s worst nightmare. The thing in the closet and under the bed that kept him awake at night and chased him through hell. Especially when I went dangerous places he couldn’t follow, like my own head.