by Jill Cooper
“I’m not upset,” Amanda said, but her high-pitched squeal of a voice meant she was on the verge of panic.
“I would just think if something was wrong, you could tell me. You did bring me back from the underworld. I’m here. You’re here. We’re in this together, Mandy.”
Jessica threw a glance at her sister, but couldn’t reach her. Amanda was staring out the window, her expression was vacant. Almost as if she was thinking of something so scary, she wanted to shut Jessica out.
To say it scared Jessica was an understatement. A rush of cold ran up her spine and Jessica shuttered, unable to control herself. “When you want to share, you let me know,” Jessica said.
Amanda bit her lip, and gazed out the door at the rush of buildings as the car whizzed through the city streets. “Maybe later.”
Was she nervous about Sin Town? Was she nervous about the underworld? It wasn’t like Amanda to under share—usually her problem was the exact opposite.
After a few more minutes they arrived at the shelter. Pulling the car over to the curb, Jessica slid the gearshift into park. She popped the trunk and took out a suitcase to give to Joseph. He was eager to get out of the car, and, with the tone Amanda set that morning, Jessica didn’t blame him.
“You’re sure about this?” Joseph asked once they stood at the rear of the car. Jessica fished luggage from the trunk amid a clank of weapons and armory.
Jessica placed the suitcase on the pavement. “It’s for your own safety. I know you probably need a crash course in current events, and I’m sorry we don’t have time to give it to you. But there’s some money in there. Get a basic job, work your way up. My number is in there. In a few weeks, call. If we’re not dead, we’ll help set you up somewhere nicer.”
“You’ve already done too much, but I can help you. Repay my debt.” Joseph glanced around, leaned in close enough so Jessica could smell the bacon on his breath. “Vaughn possessed me for a thousand years. His knowledge has merged with mine. I can help you in Sin Town. I know I can.”
“You don’t know anything.” Jessica’s voice edged like a razor. “And you know it. Get out of here before we get you killed.”
Joseph sighed and his shoulders rounded. He wanted to belong somewhere, Jessica got that, but it wasn’t with them. Couldn’t be. Look where it had landed Duncan.
“She’s right.” Amanda’s voice rang out strong as she crept behind him. “Our fight is dangerous and it’s only going to get worse. So go, and in a few weeks, Jessica will come help you when she can.”
Jessica’s eyebrows furrowed together. Why not, ‘we will come’? Was Amanda becoming fatalistic on her? They weren’t giving up. Never had and never would.
Amanda turned her back and headed toward the car. She barely even said goodbye to Joe, someone she had been so desperate to help—to save. Everything had changed once Lourdes was slain.
Everything.
“It’s a bad week for her, I guess.” Jessica’s voice softened. “I’m sorry, Joe.” Jessica shook his hand. “Be safe and… stick with the cover story. You’re thirty years old, down on your luck. Lost your job in the recession. No one will bat an eye.”
He smiled his thanks before he picked up his suitcase. With a deep breath, Jessica watched him go. She waited until he reached the front door before sliding back into the car. She started it up with a quick peek at Amanda. She was massaging her hand as if it hurt and Jessica’s mind raced. Was her power dwindling?
Was it because of Lourdes’s death? Couldn’t her sister catch a break already?
“I should’ve told you earlier,” Jessica’s voice was loud and intruded on the quiet mournful space in the car. “I spoke with Aunt Gwen and she’s on the case to pick up this relic. It’s called the Ruby Heart. It can save you from becoming this queen of the underworld. It can lift the curse that Lourdes’s death put on you.”
Amanda looked up quickly. Her eyes widened with hope. “Really?”
So that was it, wasn’t it? Why she was so sullen, why her body was so distressed? Amanda thought she had no choice but to become the next queen of the underworld?
“She’s on her way to get it now. She has friends in high places,” Jessica smirked, “you should know that.”
“What if she can’t get it in time?” Amanda chewed on her lip. “What if she can’t get it to me in time?”
“In time for what, Amanda?” Jessica’s voice was soft but serious. “Be straight with me and tell me what you’re fighting. Let me help you, kid sister.”
Amanda turned toward Jessica with tears in her eyes. “I can see the underworld, Jessie. It’s all around me and…” Amanda closed her eyes and shuddered. “It’s calling me home. And I long for it. I long for it!”
Fear rippled through Jessica like a stone skipped across a pond. She did her best to sound confident and strong when she answered, but her heart pounded like a rumble of battle drums. “Your home is with me. Not the underworld. You be strong and hang in there. We’ll get through this together.”
Amanda nodded and her hands ran against her arms. She gazed out the window again and Jessica feared that not everything was said. Something, a big dark something, still lingered between them. “Are you strong enough to go get Duncan now?”
“It’s the only thing grounding me right now.” Amanda’s fingers danced across her arm and Jessica’s eyes were drawn to the colorful bandage around her hand. “Let’s make tracks to Sin Town.”
Nothing left to say, Jessica shifted the car into drive and peeled away from the curb. She made an illegal U-turn and headed back toward the highway. She wouldn’t say it to Amanda, wouldn’t voice her fears, but Jessica caught a glimpse of the black ink, like a tattoo, growing on Amanda’s hand.
It peaked out from beneath the bandage and Jessica thought that was what Amanda was so desperate to hide. Lourdes’s curse was growing in Amanda faster than she could heal.
Aunt Gwen better hurry.
Jessica applied more gas and the car sped up as they reached the open road. It wasn’t just Aunt Gwen who had to hurry.
It was Jessica too.
Chapter Seven: Duncan
In and out, Duncan kept falling in and out of consciousness. Vain was there. He was still her prisoner, Duncan was sure about that, but that was all he was sure of. Because the more Vain put that stuff on his lips, the less sure Duncan was about anything.
Flashes in front of him blended and blurred Vain’s face into Jessica’s. Duncan knew it was a trick, at least he thought he did, but why did he keep grabbing Vain’s face? Why did he keep kissing her?
“You want me,” Vain whispered, her crotch right where it should be. She rode him like a wild bull and Duncan was helpless to do anything but enjoy it. He fished his hands beneath her hair and forced her down to kiss him.
“You love me,” Vain whispered, against his lips and her breath was erratic, caught in her throat as the tempo in the room intensified. “Say my name, Duncan. Please.”
Lying on the bed, Duncan opened his eyes and saw her. She was on top of him. Her head thrown back in ecstasy in a way that only happened in his dreams. Her lips barely parted as she moaned and the long flowing mane of red hair spiraled down her back. The lights caught it just right and it was beautiful. Duncan wanted nothing more than to lose his fingers beneath it and tug her close enough to kiss again and again.
Just a simple, tender kiss…
“Jessica.” His hand stretched for her and Jessica bent down so he could touch her. It was like heaven to have her lips so close to his face. Duncan stroked her hair back, the palm of his hand caressing her soft cheek and bringing his lips to hers.
But there was no scar. Hadn’t she had a scar on her cheek for years?
“Jess…” he whispered.
“Sssh,” Jessica’s eyes were closed and she put a finger to his lip, replacing it slowly with her own. Her breath was hot inside his mouth and Duncan’s skin rose up with excitement. “I’ll get you out of here,” she promised, “but first
, make love to me, Duncan.”
She didn’t sound much like Jessica. The beats of her words, her sentences, were off, but Duncan didn’t know why. He gripped her back, driving her down toward him. A playful grin spread her mouth wide and Jessica’s eyes opened and gazed down at him.
Except her eyes weren’t green. They were brown.
Duncan sucked on his breath and his arms dropped to his side. “What the hell? Your eyes…”
Jessica’s lip rolled over in a full pout and Duncan knew it wasn’t her. Jessica Blood didn’t pout, that was reserved for lesser women. “It’s still me, Jasper. I promise.” She bent over to kiss him, but Duncan rolled his head away.
“Get away from me. Whoever you are.”
Jessica stood off of him with a snarl. Now that looked like Jessica. “Fine,” she spat at him. “But now I need to get my jollies off somewhere else. I need to find someone to hurt if I can’t hurt you.” She stormed out of the bedroom and slammed the door.
Duncan rose from the bed, and, dogged by a bad limp, followed after her. His vision was spinning and he couldn’t walk in a straight line without banging into the wall. It was as if he had been drugged. His mouth was dry and his tongue felt cracked as sandpaper. “Wait! Stop, whoever you are….”
But the room slanted and was spinning. Almost as if he was on a boat, Duncan slammed into the door frame. He grabbed onto it and stumbled into the hall. The lights everywhere were flickering. Everything was going crazy. His forehead was sweaty, his limbs shaking, and his feet seemed to float across the floor.
Why did he feel this way? And where was he? Duncan’s memories and thoughts were disjointed. He saw Amanda’s face, begging him to stay, and behind her was, what?
A church?
This place was no church. The narrow hallways were lined with red carpet and the walls with black and white wallpaper. There were so many doors on each side, it would take forever to find Jessica here and Duncan’s stomach was churning itself into knots. Whatever was wrong with him, he didn’t have too long to find her. He could barely stay upright.
But there she was, at the end of the hall, an evil snarl on her face. Her arm was clamped around the throat of a woman, a short one with brown hair and baby brown eyes, and in Jessica’s other hand a knife.
“Stop,” Duncan’s voice whispered as if from far away. He stumbled. His fingers flicking against the wall as he went.
“Help,” the young woman called out. Her eyes wide with terror. As Duncan got closer, he recognized her as his kid sister. Meggie?
Wasn’t she dead? Hadn’t Duncan already found her body?
“Meg!” Duncan ran for his sister, tripping over his feet he walked on his ankles. Fingers outstretched, he reached for Megan as Jessica sliced her throat from ear to ear.
His scream came not from his mouth alone, but his entire body. It blocked everything out as he stumbled to his knees and Meg’s limp body fell to the ground. “Meggie, Meggie!” Duncan cried as he stared into her dull, vacant eyes.
Her lips barely parted, her voice was a gurgle of blood and a struggle for air. “Why can’t you save me? Why?”
Duncan blubbered as he scooped her up in his arms. His heart would never mend itself. It was fractured, like a smashed window, broken beyond repair. There was no room in his heart for anything but pain. He buried his face into Meg’s hair and cried. All he could do was cry.
But it hadn’t been like this had it? Memories flashed in his mind of Meg’s dead body. Then, it had been cold and abandoned in an old warehouse. Now he lost her again in this dark, scary place?
Why did he have to keep losing her? Why?
Duncan sobbed, holding Meg’s body close to his. He didn’t know what was real and what was false, but his grief was real enough. . His despair would carry him home.
He glanced up at Jessica Blood’s smiling face. “Hate me yet?” Jessica blew him a kiss. Nothing about any of it made sense and Duncan fought against the darkness and the magic that swirled in the room. When he looked up at Jessica again for a split second her face changed.
Duncan saw Vain where Jessica was before, and those moments on the bed came charging toward him. This wasn’t Jessica’s handy work, but Vain’s. “Damn you, Vain!” He placed his sister’s tender body on the ground and charged toward the evil temptress.
She grabbed him by the throat and something pierced his side. Groaning, with wide eyes, Duncan touched his skin where he had been stabbed. “Evil bitch,” he muttered and fell to the ground as Vain released him.
“This is going to be harder than I thought,” Vain stepped over him and snarled with her arms crossed. “If the ointment doesn’t work and this wig isn’t enough…we’re going to have to get more creative.”
Vain huffed and a haze of yellow mist came down from the lights, as if they too were tainted by magic. One of Vain’s girls, Michelle stepped up and handed Vain her crystal ball. “Mistress, you asked for this? For phase two?”
“Yes,” Vain crouched low and Duncan tried to slither his head away, but he was so weak. So tired… “Gaze into the crystal ball, Jasper. Gaze into it and see exactly what I tell you to…”
Chapter Eight: Gwen
They drove for hours and stopped only briefly for snacks and bathroom breaks. Too many of them, thanks to Archie’s weak constitution. Knowledgeable as he was, Archibald wasn’t the best road trip buddy Gwen had ever had. Years with two teenage gingers, Gwen was used to ignoring backseat squabbles, but it rubbed Mike the wrong way.
“Archie,” Mike said with a rapid blink of his eyes, “you stop complaining that you’re hungry or help me God…”
“But you’re a priest.” Archie laughed from the back of Gwen’s Jeep. “What will you do to me? You can’t kill me.”
Mike’s eyebrows came down sharp and scornfully. “I don’t have to kill you. I just have to hurt you.”
Gwen suppressed a chuckle, the heel of her gloved hand resting on the steering wheel. They were close to the next small watering hole in Nevada. It was near quitting time, which meant rush hour traffic was upon them. If they were going to stop and recharge, now might be the time to do it. “Okay, guys—.”
But it was as if they hadn’t heard her.
“I also have to use the facilities,” Archie mumbled. “That canned soda stuff always makes it worse.”
“Archie!” Mike reached back into the backseat as if to throttle their old friend, but Gwen intervened and grabbed his wrist. For a brief moment their eyes met and Gwen gave a gentle shake of her head.
He was better than this. So what was really going on? Something he couldn’t put into words, but his eyes gave her a thousand pardons. Mike sighed and sat straight. “Sorry, Archie. I guess every man has his limits. Mine is apparently riding eight hours with you. Coupled with Gwen’s driving and the way you are littering the back with wrappers…”
Gwen let her chuckle be heard this time, and it cut through the tension like a knife through warm butter. “We’ll stop at the next town as soon as we get through this traffic. It’s coming up soon, over the next hill, a nice little pancake place that’s open 24/7. Let’s get some food, and coffee, after that, we’ll be ready to ride clear to Vegas.”
“Stretching our legs will make everything better,” Mike said.
Archie leaned forward. “And syrup.” Breakfast food, was his weakness. Good thing Gwen knew it too.
****
The [small Midwest town in Nevada] was as docile as it came. The gas station was closed and the streets were nearly clear of cars. A few dusty old farmers sat on an old wooden bench outside of the Silver Dollar Pancake Café, their eyes vacant and dull. Gwen thought there was something eerie about it all, but, except for exchanging a glance with Mike, she kept it to herself.
Inside was bustling. The counter was filled with people eating lunch and sipping coffee. The magazine rack at the door was empty and waitresses rushed around as if they had wheels strapped to their feet. Behind the counter, a harried woman, with a messy bun, wore
a blue uniform. “Take a seat and someone will be with you, hon.”
Worn paneling covered the walls, and old, tattered menus lay scattered across the tables, but the smell of hot coffee and bacon allowed Gwen to look past all of that.
“C’mon, Arch,” Mike ushered them over to a booth that already had a few menus laid out. Archie got in first, Mike slid in beside him and Gwen took the opposite seat. His eyes met hers, but she couldn’t read his gaze. There was something warm held inside of them just for her and she needed to ignore it.
She flipped over her menu and read the specials. Waffles with ice cream sounded good. Outside, the weather was sweltering, and Gwen could use some refreshments. You didn’t worry about bad carbs as much when fighting evil, and, when your darling niece was on the path to becoming the ultimate evil, all bets were off.
The waitress from behind the counter slammed three hot coffees onto the table. The deep-black liquid sloshed and spilled. She swore under her breath as she cleaned it up with a dirty rag. “Sorry. It’s crazy busy today. Been like this for three days. Nobody wants to stay home anymore. What can I get you?”
“Belgian with ice cream for me,” Gwen said.
“I’ll have the same,” Mike said and Gwen shot him a dirty look. Did he always have to copy her? That priest, he never had an original thought.
“French toast,” Archie said, “extra bacon. Crispy, but not too crispy. Extra syrup. A pat of butter, but nothing too big. How are your hash browns—?” He was cut off as Mike slapped the back of his head. Archie cleared his throat and his face turned several shades of red. “The French toast and bacon is fine. But please, don’t forget the syrup.”
The waitress barely looked up from her order pad. “Got it.”
“Why is it that no one wants to stay home anymore?” Gwen asked.
The waitress gave a dispassionate shrug. “Must be that giant crater that opened up in town.” After her answer, she squeezed past the big men at the counter to get back at her post and Gwen stared after her.
