by Brie Tart
“That should be possible, m’lord,” Morag replied.
“I don’t see how that will have any bearing on her power, though, since it’s based more out of her midsection and chest,” Cailean pondered. “Removing her stomach and heart would yield greater results. I’m sure there’s ways to keep a connection so she stays alive during the process.”
Oh no. Looking at her organs was one thing, but removing that shit entirely wasn’t reversible. She strained against the magical bonds as her blood boiled to life. The energy she’d expended earlier fired up again. Survival drove it more than her willpower.
“Take care of that, Cailean.” Ailpien waved to Helen’s wriggling.
Cailean brought his hands over Helen’s heart and stomach. Electricity sprang out from those parts to the rest of her body, guided by the paths of her fire. Helen’s back arched off the gurney as she screamed, and her teeth split the leather of her gag.
Her awareness dulled as the electricity died and she collapsed back on the gurney. The Unseelie instinct withdrew deeper into her gut. It almost whispered, coaxing her to build up her strength with promises of bloodshed and vengeance. It hadn’t ever communicated that clearly before, transmitting specific feelings and images. Helen had to go along with it. She needed it. Their goals lined up, so why not? She concentrated on breathing in wheezing gasps as Morag’s spells wrapped up her insides like a blanket.
“You...you don’t gotta do that,” Tommy said, thick and fumbling. “If you found out what you need from her, let her get some rest. Put her back together.”
“We still have vital work to do, Thomas. We must progress toward our goals somehow.” Ailpien raised a brow toward Tommy. “What else do you propose we do to fill the time?”
Helen turned to her uncle, pleading with her eyes for him not to do what she suspected. She tried to tell him with a look that she could take the treatment, deal with everything one more time.
Tommy went quiet. He wiped his hands on his tattered pants, wet his mouth, did everything he could to stall before saying something. That fidgeting silence always came before bad news. He met his niece’s eyes with a sorry frown. It had every apology and “kiddo” he’d ever said while telling Helen to let him take care of her. It let Helen know that her uncle was a loner by nature, an old dog who’d forgotten to learn new tricks. She could read plain as day that he loved her, he always would, and that he hoped everything would work out.
Tommy switched his focus to Ailpien. “Fix her back up and put me on the table instead. I get how the whole Unseelie experiment works. You’ve got my full cooperation as long as you stop messing with her.”
“How reasonable of you.” Ailpien waved Morag over to Helen. “Extract what we need from her essence and seal her. Then Rhona and Cailean can escort her back to her cell.”
Helen squeezed her eyes shut as they watered. Her Unseelie instinct signaled that she almost had her chance. Let them make you well again, it crooned. Split them from their master, then we hunt.
* * *
The basement door swung shut behind Helen as Rhona dragged her out, and Cailean stayed a few steps ahead. Cailean’s magic kept Helen’s limbs limp as she gasped for air and recovered from the shock that came after they put her back together. They yanked her away right as Ailpien started strapping Tommy to the gurney, where she should’ve been.
The hidden spark in her belly built with each step further down the hall. She stoked it brighter with thoughts: her muffled cries reverberating through the lab, the desperate apology in Tommy’s face, Ailpien’s conceited smile.
They’d almost reached her cell, far enough that neither could outsprint her to the basement to report a problem.
Strike, her gut whispered.
Helen unleashed the pent up power all at once. It tore through Cailean’s bands, filling her muscles with boiling berzerker frenzy. She broke Rhona’s lax grip and shot out at Cailean, spiking her knee into his spine.
He fell under her. He traced a frenzy of shapes in the ground with his long fingers. No, she wouldn’t let him finish.
Helen grabbed his head and twisted hard. His neck didn’t neatly crack like she expected. It tore with a brutal scraping of bone against bone. Cailean’s scream cut off in a short whimper. Helen shoved her heel into the scrawny wizard’s vertebrae again and again, so they stayed broken.
The euphoria that came after a kill sharpened the world as it swayed. Helen’s heightened awareness sensed the air splitting over her head. she rolled away, off the twitching body of the downed fae.
A gigantic blade slammed on what was left of Cailean, chopping his torso into shattered bones, blood, and meat. Rhona yelled a war cry that intensified the glow around her.
Helen winced. Ailpien would’ve heard that.
Another scream echoed after that, faint but distinctive. Uncle Tommy.
Rhona swung her claymore for Helen again, parting the air in her way.
Helen dropped to her knees. The blade stuck in the wall inches above her head. She rolled away. Something crashed to the floor. She bumped into a leg instead of solid ground.
Rhona loomed over her, both hands free. She lifted Helen up by her long black hair. Clumps tore free from Helen’s scalp as she struggled to get her feet under her. She’d been taught how to fight that hold so many times. She managed to dig her heels into the floor and pushed herself toward the behemoth woman. Once she got a grip around the fae’s neck, she kneed her in the stomach.
Rhona took Helen’s blow with a wheezing grunt. She shoved her off, putting distance between them. Just a little longer, and Helen could’ve grappled her to the ground.
“That’s two of my mates you’ve slain,” Rhona said with a growl as she squared her stance. She stood a good few inches taller than Helen with a wider, bulkier build. Helen would bet money that chick had speed to match her strength.
Tommy howled again.
“Once we’re done with him, we shouldn’t need you anymore.” Rhona smirked. “That means I can crush you and make you wish you were back under Lord Alpien’s knife. You’re going to suffer for them, for my smooth talker Ewan and smart little Cailean.”
Helen didn’t have time for taunts. She had to bring the fight back to close quarters for her best chance. If only she had a weapon, any weapon. She wouldn’t overpower Rhona like she had Cailean. She wasn’t sure she could win that without some iron, or another edge. But Rhona had to die for her to rescue Tommy and destroy Ailpien.
Helen charged and ducked under the bigger woman for a take down. Rhona caught her and threw her into the hard floor. Pain reverberated through Helen’s spine, shocks rattling her from her brain to her toes. She still went under Rhona’s knees. She had to get that giant on the ground.
Rhona hopped aside, but Helen latched onto her calf. She jabbed the underside of that knee. Rhona staggered, shifting her weight to her other foot. Helen bit into the woman’s leg, the same cheap shot Yoel used on her once. Rhona kicked out, swinging Helen around like a rag doll. Helen tasted blood in her mouth as she clamped down harder. Another kick sent Helen flying off.
Helen collided into the opposite wall, her right shoulder exploding with pain. Had she broken something? The pain numbed as her energy covered it, but trying to move her right arm sent spasms up and down that side, and it hung limp. It must’ve gotten dislocated with the impact. Shit.
Rhona held her open palm toward her sword. It flew to her like she was a magnet. Rhona closed the short distance she needed in a blink and brought the blade down. It careened through the air, slicing too quick for Helen to dash away without losing a limb.
Tommy’s cries echoed from under the floor.
A small boom came from the other end of the hall.
The claymore crashed off course, making a small gorge beside Helen.
“Mam!” a little girl called.
Helen scrambled up and dared to check the source.
Yoel stood at the other end of the hall, holding a pistol with a suppressor at the end
. Lucy hung off his shoulders in a backpack-like sling, her blonde curls peeking around his neck. He reached into his bomber jacket and tossed a naked machete at Helen.
Helen darted away, grabbed it out of the air, and her arm was whole again.
CHAPTER 23
Helen’s arm hung by its socket, but a second wind sent renewed vigor into her. Blood streamed down Rhona’s leg from her thigh. Helen had to strike before that thing mended like all the other regular bullet wounds Yoel had inflicted on fae. She jammed her shoulder back into place, then put on a burst of speed, and charged Rhona while the behemoth was looking away.
The first slash grazed Rhona’s arm. The sizzle of the giant fae’s blood and flesh sang to Helen’s ears. Rhona scurried back toward her sword, on the retreat. She held out her hand, and the weapon came to her.
Helen closed the distance Rhona had made.
The claymore sped at her.
Helen dropped to a squat, her machete braced and ready. She launched herself up and forward. The blade penetrated Rhona’s rock gut like butter. Fried skin and black lines spread out as Helen twisted the blade and shoved harder.
Rhona flailed and punched at Helen’s bad shoulder. Pain burned through the limb. The euphoria of a kill streamed through Helen like novocaine and numbed her to everything else. Rhona writhed, skewered on Helen’s rightful weapon. Blood seeped between Helen’s fingers and baptised her hands.
Rhona’s shrieks bounced off the walls of the hall. Would Ailpien even notice them between rearranging Uncle Tommy’s guts? Helen’s fight wasn’t done, it was only beginning. She only had so much time before Ailpien finished with Tommy. If she got lucky and hurried, she could get to her uncle before his humanity vanished.
“Mam!” Lucy’s voice cut through Helen’s concerns.
Yoel jogged over, keeping the suppressor on his gun pointed at the floor. He turned around and presented his toddler strapped back to Helen.
Lucy hung there in the harness and reached for Helen with thick tear trails on her chubby cheeks. Had the loud noises scared Lucy? Had the whole experience left the sensitive girl traumatized? Did she just miss her family?
Helen left her machete stuck in Rhona for the moment as she unbuckled Lucy with her good arm. The Unseelie energy got to work knitting her bad shoulder back together as she cradled Lucy on her hip. A few seconds to clutch her little girl tight wouldn’t hurt, right? She needed that child as much as she needed her machete to keep going. Knowing her daughter was solid and safe with her made all the difference.
The girl cried into her mother’s neck, clinging to her torn tank top without a care in the world for the dirt and dried muck Helen was covered in.
Yoel jerked his chin toward the direction he’d come from. “We should get out of here before someone notices.”
“Not yet.” Helen took a deep breath, taking a big whiff of the top of the child’s head as she readied herself to pry the girl off. “Ailpien and one of his goons are still alive. They’ve got Tommy.”
“Your uncle’s alive?”
“Yeah, they’ve been holding him here ever since...” Helen hesitated and checked Lucy. The girl’s whimpers started to settle down. “Ever since he was ‘killed.’”
“A rescue detour is fine in theory, but not without a plan. Especially with the little one.”
“We can come up with one on the way.” Helen grabbed her machete out of Rhona and started toward the basement, keeping Lucy on her hip a few moments longer. “They’re trying to turn him into something like me. If we get there now, we can stop it.”
“My theory was right?” Yoel hurried to catch up with Helen and keep pace beside her. “Did he find a way to copy you?”
“Dead on. And if he hasn’t, he’s getting there from the sounds of it.”
“Has he found a way to make them loyal?”
“I’m not waiting to find out.”
“It was good I managed to find you, then.” Yoel gained a few steps ahead of Helen. “Taking down a fae of Ailpien’s position and saving someone is a tall order.”
“How’d you make it here, anyways?”
“After dispatching the Hidden Folk pursuing us, I followed the Light Elf. Then it was a matter of finding your machete, gathering some supplies, and tracking the blood left on the blade. We’re in a derelict sanatorium in upstate New York.” He nodded toward Lucy. “Miss Lucy was a model of cooperation. Remarkable for her age.”
“She’s full of surprises.” Helen would have to let go as soon as the basement door came into sight at their next turn. With how hard the toddler sucked on her thumb, Helen suspected her daughter wouldn’t be so cooperative from there. “You got any ideas?”
“Taking them by surprise will be our best chance. Eliminating the underling first will help, then we can focus all of our efforts on Ailpien himself.”
“It’ll be hard sneaking up when there’s only one way in.” Helen pursed her lips. “They’ll probably already expect me. They got no idea about you though.”
“You’re suggesting you act as a diversion?”
“Kinda. I go in blazing in, and you snipe them from the door. Then I take them down.”
“It’s a fair plan for one.” Yoel hummed. “For two, especially with a hostage, that strategy will only work once.”
“Then I’ll have to be quick before he can use Tommy, or get a hold of you and Lucy.” Helen stopped at the corner they had to turn to get to the basement. The time had come to put Lucy back in the harness. “Hey, baby girl. It’s time for Hellfire to come out. That means you’ve got to stay with Book-Man again for a bit.”
“No!” Lucy clung on, digging her fingers into Helen’s shirt. “Home!”
Tommy’s next yells had an edge to them. They stirred the fire in Helen’s gut, and told her there was a relation there, something else like her. Oh no. How fast was Ailpien making progress? Had Tommy’s willingness really made all the difference?
“Pa’s alive. He’s in there.” Helen peeled her daughter off as the sound tugged at her chest. “They’re doing bad stuff to him. I’ve gotta save him.”
“Piggyback!” Lucy shouted.
“No.” Helen stayed firm as she looked her daughter straight in her big green eyes. “If they get you, if anything happens to you, I’m dead, Pa’s dead, Book-Man’s dead, everybody’s dead. You’ve gotta stay safe. Safe means you stay as far away from them as you can. I’ve gotta go into them head on. You can’t. You get me?”
Lucy’s lower lip trembled, giving her mom the I’m-tired-and-want-to-go-home grumpy face. That always broke Helen.
“Just a little longer, alright?” Helen tentatively handed Lucy toward Yoel. “Stay nice and quiet a little longer. Then we’ll go home.”
Yoel rearranged the straps on the harness still fastened around his hips and shoulders. He helped Helen guide Lucy into it and buckled her in place. He offered the girl a reassuring smile that not even Helen bought. Lucy still refused to let go of Helen’s arm.
“After bad guys done, gone, dead, Mam go home.” Lucy thrust out her pinky. “Promise!”
Helen blinked down at the little finger. Those swears had always been ironclad and sacred. Helen hadn’t broken one yet. She didn’t intend to break that one either. She locked her pinky with Lucy’s. “Promise, Diamond Girl.”
Lucy huffed as she let go of Helen and gripped Yoel’s harness like handlebars.
Helen gulped as she stared at the basement door. The hall seemed to get longer, that entrance running further away.
Tommy’s next bellow sounded more like a roar.
She couldn’t wait any longer. Helen sprinted the rest of the way.
CHAPTER 24
Helen burst through the door and it flew open, fractured wood and splinters scattering in her wake. She had less than a second to assess the room. Ailpien stood over the gurney, slicing into her uncle with scalpel in hand. He’d have to wait. She had to kill his support first, leaving him vulnerable and ripe for picking off. Helen went for the shado
wy corner where Morag tended to lurk.
Morag chanted fast and frenzied. The fae woman’s voice drowned out every other sound. Her body glowed brighter, and a spectral shape of her formed over her head. She was part ghost, part horned figure.
A bang broke through her spell. Yoel held up his shorter-barrelled Taurus Judge in place of his suppressed pistol.
Morag hiccupped as a small cluster of smoking holes punctured her chest, her sternum at the very center. Shouldn’t she be in more pain if Yoel used steel birdshot instead of lead? No time for thinking about that. Helen closed the distance between them and stabbed her machete through the target Yoel’s shells had made.
Morag’s body went limp and collapsed to the floor. Her ghostly shape stuck around and shrieked. The cry shook Helen through to her bones as what was left of Morag whipped around her in a mist.
Helen slashed out at the smoke. It made a burning slice through the air, but that filled in soon after.
“I almost have it,” Ailpien shouted over the ghost’s noise. “To me, Morag!”
The smoke fled and swirled around Tommy and Ailpien instead. It shrouded their shapes and reduced Helen’s glimpses of her uncle to gorey flashes.
Another series of blasts cut through Morag’s keening.
Pellets ricocheted off the smoke. They buried themselves in the walls and ceiling.
Morag’s body burned where Helen’s machete had pierced it, black lines and blisters covering the corpse’s blank expression. How was she still kicking around?
“What the hell’s going on?” Helen yelled over Morag’s cries as she rammed against the smokey wall. The gray mist cleared some as her red-aura made contact. Helen got a glimpse of Ailpien reaching under Tommy’s ribs, his sleeve soaked in blood. Tommy’s face was twisted in agony around the gag. His insides, intestines and all, were laid out on the table in neat piles. He resembled so much meat. The thick fog mended itself almost as soon as it split.
