by Becca Andre
George tsked and walked back over to him. He gripped a handful of James’s black hair and jerked his head back. “Careful or I might lock you in the vault.”
The vault? The one in the gun shop basement? Had it survived the blaze? The building had once been a bank and the old steel vault remained. I swallowed. Steel contained iron.
George looked up with a frown. “Where the hell is Brian with the truck?”
“Here,” a familiar voice said. Rowan stepped around the side of the building, a knife to Brian’s throat. I recognized the over-sized hunting knife Brian always favored. Rowan forced him toward us, using Brian’s body as a shield against George’s crossbow.
“Well, him, not the truck,” Rowan amended.
I released a silent breath. No nasty side effect from my formula then. Rowan had been biding his time, waiting for such an opportunity.
“No fire, Your Grace?” George asked. “Did you blow your wad on my shop last Saturday?”
What a dumbass. “Did you miss the guys in the black fatigues?” I asked. “They blew up the workshop.”
Something thumped on the other side of Ginny’s car and a moment later, I heard a groan. A similar sound rose from the shadows across the parking lot, quickly followed by another.
“Oh God,” Henry gasped and shoved me so hard I fell to my knees a few paces away. He turned his back to me, his bowie knife glinting in the dim light. Beyond him, a form shuffled our way.
“What the hell?” George turned to face a half-dozen other forms staggering toward us.
I recognized the uneven tread and my skin crawled. “Zombies.” I hurried to my feet.
“George, release me,” James said. “I’ll take care of them.”
George answered by releasing a crossbow bolt into the nearest dead guy. The man staggered, the bolt through his chest, but he didn’t go down. He regained his balance and started to shuffle forward once more.
“You have to decapitate them to stop them,” I said.
“Or incinerate them,” Rowan added. I didn’t miss the frown he gave me. He pushed Brian away.
Brian bent and drew a knife from his boot top, but he didn’t turn on Rowan. Instead, he turned outward as well. We stood in a rough circle, backs to one another, as eight zombies encircled us.
George tossed aside his crossbow and drew a hunting knife with a ten-inch blade. I suppressed a shiver. He’d have to get close to use that. He gave Rowan a quick glance. “Well?”
I sighed. “He can’t. I hit him with a neurological inhibitor specifically designed for those brain cells which have been shown to be active during—”
“In English,” George cut in.
“No fire.” I watched the zombies move closer. “It’ll wear off in a couple of hours.”
“That was fucking brilliant. Why the hell did you do that?”
“He’s as fond of James as I am. I was doing you a favor,” I lied.
“He’s fucking him, too?”
“Watch it,” James said. He’d climbed to his feet, though he still held a hand over the hole in his chest.
Suddenly, the zombies stopped advancing. They stood within the circle of light cast by the streetlight, and I noticed that they looked much…fresher than the zombie James and I had faced outside the Alchemica. The male zombies wore suits and the females wore dresses. They stood in odd contrast to one that was naked. I could clearly see the y-incision on his torso. Were they fresh from some funeral home? Maybe I didn’t imagine that faint odor of formaldehyde. I was definitely going with cremation when my time came.
James stepped closer and gripped George’s arm. “They’re being controlled. Necros,” he whispered, tone urgent. “You need to—”
George bashed his forearm into James face and he staggered back. I hated seeing my normally unstoppable sidekick so weak. I crossed my arms, a finger slipping beneath my sleeve to the hidden blow tube of pepper dust.
“The truck,” Brian muttered. He turned and ran toward the street. Did he plan to use the truck to run down the undead, or just escape?
To my surprise, two of the male zombies broke formation and took off after him. Now the Huntsman boys are fast, but apparently, the dead are faster. After watching them shuffle around, I would have never believed they could move like that, but they caught Brian before he was even halfway to the street and took him to the ground. Brian screamed.
George whipped a knife from his boot top and, with a flick of the wrist, sent it glinting through the dim light toward the tangle of bodies. The knife thunked into the side of one zombie’s throat, and an instant later, Henry repeated the same move on the other zombie. Lethal blows both, but neither zombie seemed to notice.
“That’ll do,” a female voice said.
I gasped and turned to find a brown-robed figure a few feet beyond the motionless zombies encircling us. The two attacking Brian immediately stopped and climbed to their feet.
“Bring him here,” she said, and the pair pulled Brian to his feet and dragged him over to us. They dropped him, bloodied and wide-eyed at her feet, but she was no longer interested. She stepped around him to stop before James.
“What have you done to my grim?” she asked.
James growled, low in his throat, but took a step back and then another.
“Your grim?” George asked. “Look lady—”
“You don’t belong here, Clarissa.” Rowan stepped forward.
The woman pushed back her hood, and I stared in surprise. It was the crazy necro I’d met outside the Alchemica. Gray threaded her short-cropped hair and deep lines etched her face, but it was her eyes I remembered. The irises were so faded they looked white in the dim light.
“Hello, Rowan.” Her gaze slid over him. “Looking good as always—but then, you never change.”
“How about you fuck off?” George closed the distance between them, but hesitated when one of her zombies stepped into his path.
“Perhaps I’ll kill you and make you mine.” Clarissa eyed George as if giving this serious thought. He stepped back so fast it was comical.
Clarissa didn’t watch him go, her attention shifted to James. “Come here.” She waved him closer and to my shock, he obeyed, though a muscle ticked in his jaw.
“Oh, my poor baby. Someone’s made a mess of you,” Clarissa purred the words. She reached out to touch his bloodied shirt, but seemed to think better of it. Instead, she brushed her fingers across his cheekbone. “So beautiful—and warm.” She whispered the last with a sense of awe.
James growled, but made no other move.
No one was paying any attention to me, so I slipped the pepper dust out of my sleeve. I closed my fist around it and took a step toward Clarissa. To my annoyance, Rowan caught my upper arm.
Clarissa looked up at the movement and her pale eyes shifted to me. “The alchemist.”
“She’s none of your concern,” Rowan said, tightening his grip on my arm. “The grim is mine.”
Clarissa’s smile displayed a lot of teeth. “This is Old Magic, Flame Lord. My magic. You have no jurisdiction over the dead.”
“Neither of you has anything,” George spoke up. “He’s my brother.” Henry and Brian had shifted over behind him, forming a united front. It would be a touching show of brotherly love if I didn’t know the true reason behind it.
Clarissa snorted. “Hunters.” She made the word a sneer. “You have no comprehension of the gift you’ve been given. You would lock him away as your ancestors did.” She reached up and touched James’s face again. “He should be kept close and enjoyed.”
I couldn’t take any more of this. “He’s a person, not a possession.” I jerked my arm free of Rowan’s grip. “He should be respected for the unique soul he is.”
Clarissa threw back her head and laughed while James studied his toes.
“You poor inept human.”
She gave me a sad smile. “He has no soul.”
It was my turn to snort. “Oh, please.”
“It’s true, Ad,” James whispered, his eyes still on the ground.
“How else could I control him?” Clarissa asked. “I give him a bit of my soul to fill the void where his should be.” She reached up and threaded her fingers through his dark hair. “He likes it; he feels complete.” Her eyes glinted as she watched him. “Kiss me, my love.”
If I’d had any doubts, they vanished when James leaned down and kissed her. She controlled him like one of her zombies. I wasn’t prepared to take that realization through to the obvious conclusion. Right now, I just wanted to get James away from this crazy woman. I took a step toward her, but the zombies shifted closer, dead eyes on me.
Clarissa finally pulled away. She smiled up at James, her pale lips flushed from their kiss. Abruptly she frowned and poked at the collar he wore. She turned her head to glare at George. “Remove this.”
“What do I fucking look like? One of your fucked up dead guys?”
Thank goodness for the f-word or poor George wouldn’t be able to communicate.
Clarissa didn’t appear as grateful. “Convince him.” She waved a hand and three of the zombies started toward George.
George had time to raise his hunting knife, and then they were upon him.
“George!” Henry sprang forward to help while Brian hung back. Perhaps it was his lack of weapons, or maybe he remembered his own experience beneath impossible strength and gnashing teeth.
George cried out and I flinched. James snarled and started toward his brother.
“Heel, my love,” Clarissa said, and James returned to her side.
“Clarissa, stop this,” Rowan said.
She gave him an annoyed look. “Very well, but only because it distresses him so.” She patted James’s shoulder. “You see his soul is still intact, my sweet. He merely bleeds.”
Several of the stationary zombies groaned, and a couple shuffled a little closer to George.
“Now, now.” Clarissa smiled at them and they stilled at once. “I’ll feed you later.” She returned her attention to George. “The collar?”
George knelt on the ground, bleeding from multiple bites. “Brian,” he said through gritted teeth.
Looking like he wanted to be anywhere except nearer Clarissa, Brian slunk closer, pulling a set of keys from his pocket. He removed the collar, keeping an eye on Clarissa the whole time, and then he hurried back to George.
“Better?” Clarissa asked James.
He didn’t answer.
She clasped her hands and grinned. “This is going to be such fun. Change!”
A familiar flash of darkness and James the hellhound stood before her. Stunned, I could do nothing but watch.
Clarissa clapped her hands in delight. “Oh, what a rush. That’s positively orgasmic. How you enjoy that!”
James snarled, the sound unnerving as it always was when he was in this form.
“I bet you’ll love the next part.” Her pale eyes lifted to Rowan. “It’s said that a grim extracts the soul so perfectly that nothing about the body is disturbed. Even the magic remains.”
“No,” I whispered.
James whined.
“The necromancer who commanded that grim in Europe had a full Elemental contingent for awhile,” Clarissa said.
“Until he was hunted down and killed,” Rowan said.
Clarissa smiled. “What necromancer fears death?”
“I believe that’s the one thing all necros fear.” Rowan didn’t step away and his cool gray eyes remained unchanged.
Clarissa’s eyes flicked in my direction and she smiled. “You neutered him very well.”
How long had she been standing in the shadows listening to us? I considered using George’s favorite word, but refrained. “Don’t do this.” The straw dug into my palm.
Clarissa gave me a smile and stroked the fur of James’s head. Abruptly, she lifted her hand, and jabbed an index finger at Rowan. “Rip out his soul!”
Chapter
16
James’s glowing green eyes focused on Rowan. I gripped the blow tube of pepper dust, judging the distance between Clarissa and me. No way I could get to her before James got to Rowan.
“James, don’t,” I pleaded, hoping the strength of our friendship could break through whatever compulsion Clarissa had on him. For a second, he hesitated and hope surged in my heart—until he sunk low on his haunches, the muscles beneath his shaggy black fur quivering.
I forgot about Clarissa and lunged for James. He sprang forward, and I caught a fleeting grip of fur. He stumbled, but didn’t fall. Still, the misstep gave Rowan time to dive out of his path.
James’s claws bit into the asphalt, sending up sparks as he pulled himself to a halt. Rowan meanwhile regained his feet and backed away.
“Please don’t do this,” I tried again.
James’s lip curled, exposing wicked-sharp teeth, but he didn’t snarl or growl. It looked more like a cringe. Somehow it seemed worse that he knew what he was being forced to do, but could still do nothing to stop it.
“I’m waiting.” Clarissa crossed her arms and tapped her foot.
I fisted my hands and wished I had something stronger than pepper dust to hit the bitch with.
James snarled and leapt forward. Rowan dove to the side, rolling out of James’s path and coming up on his knees. James anticipated the move this time. Claws digging in, he altered his course with that unnatural agility and launched himself at Rowan.
Darkness rose up behind Rowan, the hell portal opening where James would land. From where he knelt, Rowan could do nothing except watch James soar through the air like a great black arrow aimed at his soul.
“No!” I leapt forward at the last moment. My hip slammed into Rowan’s’ shoulder, knocking him aside.
James’s eyes widened in surprise and horror, and then he collided with me. Or he should have. At the last moment, he must have gone ghost because he didn’t slam against me; he jumped through me. No, he jumped into me.
Ice punctured my heart and radiated outward, racing to my fingers and toes in less than a heartbeat. Did it beat still? Or had he taken my soul?
I fell backward into darkness, but an arm caught me before I hit the ground. The arm tightened, pulling me close. My face pressed against fur. Warmth replaced the cold, and I drew a deep breath to prove that I still needed to. I recognized the musky scent I’d always associated with James’s cologne. He held me. I hugged him back, aware that the body I embraced was neither canine nor human, but something in between—and much larger than the James I knew. I lifted my face from his chest, not certain I wanted to see, but unable to deny my curiosity.
We stood within the threshold of that black portal, though it seemed less dark now and considerably warmer. Sweat beaded along my spine while my eyes adjusted to the dim glow that surrounded us. James had his back to the parking lot we’d just left, with one clawed hand braced against what would be a jamb if it were an actual doorway. He couldn’t pull us back into the parking lot or Clarissa would have him again, but if he let go, would I be trapped here?
He flexed his other hand against my shoulder and his claws pricked my flesh through the fabric of my T-shirt. I suspected he tried to soothe me, but his physical limitations hindered him.
“James?” I whispered, unable to reconcile the face before me with the boy I knew. Like the rest of him, it was a mesh between the canine and human, and far more terrifying than any Hollywood werewolf. But the eyes were familiar, and when they met mine, my throat tightened. I couldn’t imagine a less worthy recipient of this curse.
A growl sounded behind me, very close behind me, and James’s eyes snapped up, focusing over my head.
What have you brought us, Little Brother? The pure malevolence of th
e voice stood my hair on end.
James’s hand slid up to the back of my head, and he pressed my face into his furry chest once more. She’s not for you. James’s tone was as dark and sinister. And something else: neither had spoken aloud. Both spoke directly into my mind.
Though I knew James would never willingly harm me, panic rose, dumping adrenaline into my blood stream. Against all logic, I struggled to pull away from his suffocating closeness.
James stroked a hand over my hair, trying to calm me, but one of his claws snagged my pony-tail holder and must have severed it. My hair fell free, dropping around my shoulders. Against the light-stealing blackness of his fur, my dark hair appeared several shades lighter.
“Here.” A hand touched my back, and I whipped my head around with a gasp. Rowan stood beside James. Had he ducked beneath James’s arm to step into the portal with us? He could do that? I looked up into his cool gray eyes and bit back a sob. I’d worry about what an immortal Fire Element could and couldn’t do later. For now, his presence was enough. James released me, and I fell into Rowan’s arms, grateful for a human embrace in a world where I didn’t belong.
The growl sounded behind me once more, and Rowan raised his eyes. He didn’t flinch or look away. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as it sounded.
Take her and go. James’s voice set off another inexplicable panic inside me. Rowan’s arms tightened, and I wondered if he felt the same.
We slipped past James to return to the clinic’s parking lot. The cool autumn air blew across my sweat-dampened skin, chilling me. Nothing had changed. No one had even moved. Brian and Henry knelt beside George. The two of them busy binding George’s wounds while his narrowed eyes were focused on the portal. Clarissa watched as well, her expression awed.
I turned my head and James released the portal, allowing the darkness to swallow him. In that instant, I glimpsed the creature that had stood behind me. Within the darkness, it appeared a shadow against shadows. But the shape was familiar: a grim, like James, only larger. Its eyes were still on me, bright with rabid interest. Eyes that glowed red, not green. Light from our world glinted on one claw and then another as it flexed a hand—then the portal vanished.
