by Melody Raven
Well, at least it wouldn’t be by her hand. “All right. Let’s do this.”
“Well, step one, big surprise, is blood. But just a drop.” Madame Storm reached into her hair and pulled out a needle.
Claire could just imagine all the diseases on the tip of that thing. She held up the knife. “I think I can handle it.”
“You think that thing will draw blood? Have you felt how dull it is?”
Before Claire could even contemplate that, Madame Storm appeared in front of her and, after grasping her wrist, poked the needle in her finger. As Claire glared at the woman, Madame Storm just rolled her eyes. “You’re a witch. We’re more powerful than germs.”
Sam shot her a sympathetic smile even as she held out her hand to be pricked by the same needle.
“There,” said Madame Storm. “That wasn’t so bad. Now each of you let a drop fall onto the sand and then stand, holding hands, on the outside of the prison. Then, Samantha, you’re going to get to work.”
“Get to work how? I don’t have a ritual to recite.”
“You are the ritual, honey. You’re the most powerful of powerful. Queen of queens. You want someone out of hell, you reach in there your damn self and pull them out.”
“Is this how Claudia got Derek?”
Madame Storm tsked. “No. Derek was in the world beyond worlds. This is a prison. It’s a mean place full of nothing but pain and misery and death. So it’s much closer to earth. Now close your eyes and get to work, Your Majesty.”
Sam rolled her eyes before she reached out to Claire.
Carefully avoiding where Sam’s finger had been pricked, Claire took her friend’s hands and took a deep breath. The one other time she’d gone to this place was when she’d been pumped full of hellhound venom, so she wasn’t really looking forward to going back. But this would be better. This time she would be in control.
Even as she kept on repeating the thought to herself, it didn’t make her feel better. The thought of going back to hell, the thought of seeing Jackson again, had her stomach tied in knots.
“Are you okay?”
Claire blinked a few times at the words. No. She was definitely not okay, but she couldn’t say that. “Let’s get this over with.”
Sam nodded and silence took over as... nothing happened.
A minute later, Claire and Sam both looked around for Madame Storm. “A little direction here?”
Madame Storm waved a hand in front of her face. “I don’t know, honey. You’re the one with all the power. Figure it out.”
Claire pulled her hands free and glared at the woman. “That’s it? That’s all your advice?”
“It’s magic, honey. It doesn’t really come with a manual.” She turned her attention to Sam. “You’re the Harris. This kind of power is in your blood. Now pull it out of your ass and get it done.”
Sam tightened her lips and she looked over to Derek, who gave her a comforting smile. All of a sudden, some of the tension crept from her shoulders as Sam reached out again. “One more time, with feeling.”
Claire took Sam’s hands once more and closed her eyes. There was a long silence as everyone tried to let Sam concentrate. Claire didn’t want to pressure her friend, but her nerves were already driving her crazy and she didn’t know what she could do to speed things up.
“Don’t forget,” said Madame Storm all of a sudden. “You need to think about the one you’re trying to find. No use ending up on the other side of hell in the middle of nowhere!”
Think of Jackson? Sure. That was pretty much the story of her life right now. “Thanks for telling me ahead of time,” said Claire dryly. She opened her eyes to glare at the less-than-helpful woman, but she found herself in a totally different world.
She jerked her hands away from the cold air they were resting in and turned in a circle. Like before, she was in some sort of cavern. Claire moved back until she was pressed against the cold rock. It was sharp and freezing, but it made her feel better to have that at her back than thinking of what could be sneaking up on her.
Her eyes bounced along the walls surrounding her, but it was so dark she could hardly make anything out. Was this hell? One long series of nooks, crannies, and caves? Or was this where Jackson hid from the really bad parts?
What if this was the nice part of hell?
A wave of nausea hit her and Claire covered her mouth with her hand. She didn’t have time for this. The sooner she found Jackson, the sooner she could get out of here. But thinking that didn’t make it any easier to move her feet.
She’d been thinking of Jackson. That was what Madame Storm had instructed, so he had to be close by. Last time, he’d just been a few yards away from her, and she hadn’t even been purposely thinking of him that time. Maybe she wouldn’t have to move....
“Ja—” Her voice was creaky and she cleared her throat before she started over. “Jackson?” she called, even though it probably wasn’t over normal speaking level. But if she spoke too loud, she might draw attention from things a lot less friendly than Jackson. And that was saying a lot, because Jackson was a dick.
Unsurprisingly, Jackson didn’t magically appear once she called his name. She took a deep breath and tried once more, just a bit louder. “Jackson!”
There was the sound of movement down one of the caverns, but it was decidedly inhuman. It was almost... slithering? But it had to be bigger than any snake she’d ever seen....
That was all it took to have her pushing away from the rock and starting in the opposite direction. “Damn it, Jackson!” she whispered into the darkness. “I came all the way here to pull you out and you don’t even have the decency to show up.”
She came to a fork in the cave. She pulled the knife out of her belt and held it firmly in her hand as she tried to figure out what to do. She could feel the air rushing through one of the tunnels. She had no idea what to do. Madame Storm never said that she couldn’t die here. What would happen if one of the creatures got her? Would she wake up back in the real world? Would she go to whatever afterlife Claudia had passed on to?
All she could do was stand there and look at the two tunnels, utterly incapable of making a decision, when she heard the shuffling. It was approaching closer and closer, and this time it wasn’t really snake-like, but not exactly footsteps either. Claire gripped the knife tighter even as she remembered that it wasn’t a weapon but a key.
But that didn’t stop her from holding it in front of her as the form got closer. Half of her wanted to run, but the other half couldn’t until she knew for sure that this thing approaching wasn’t Jackson himself.
He seemed shorter, and in the dim lighting of the cavern, he was hunched over, one arm pulled against his stomach. “Claire...” the thing in front of her breathed.
It didn’t even sound like Jackson, but she couldn’t run. She knew for certain that something horrible had happened to the man she sent here.
“Jackson, I—” No. She wasn’t going to say she was sorry. She wasn’t sorry. He had needed to die, and she’d been the closest one to do it. So instead, she clenched her jaw and bit back her guilt as she stepped forward and shoved the knife into his gut.
He tensed, but didn’t scream or fight back. Instead, he put his hand over hers and pulled the knife in deeper and even gave it a twist. Her eyes widened at his unexpected gesture. At that moment, a plume of flame shot out from the wall behind her. As the heat grazed her back, the mess of wounds and scars that covered Jackson’s entire body was illuminated, and in one of her weaker moments, she opened her mouth to scream.
Jackson was there.
Sam jumped back from the circle of sand and dropped Claire’s hands. Half a second later, Claire broke out of whatever trancelike state she’d been in, and she let out a deep, guttural, terrified scream as she fell back and onto the ground, inching away from the prison.
“Shit.” Sam ran to her friend, who stared at the prison with a look of shock. “Claire, I’m here.” At the same time, Dante and Derek re
ached her too, and they were all surrounding her, even though her eyes were glued squarely at the newcomer to the room. Sam glanced over her shoulder to see Jackson running his hands along the invisible barrier that they’d made. Madame Storm had damn well better be right about that holding up.
Claire’s mouth opened and closed, but she didn’t say anything. Her normally pale face was now ashen, and Sam could practically hear how fast her heart beat in her chest.
“It’s okay,” said Sam. “You’re back here now.”
“I... I have to go,” said Claire abruptly before she pushed off the floor and then ran out of the room.
Sam wanted to follow her, but she couldn’t leave Jackson unattended. When Claire had gone, the knife had tumbled out of her hand and Sam saw that there was still some red residue on it. Jackson’s blood, probably. Sam reached for it, but Madame Storm plucked it off the ground and looked it over.
“Hmm,” she said as she studied it. “It apparently works.”
Sam met Derek’s eyes, but neither of them expressed their annoyance. She was annoying, but she’d gotten the job done, which was more than they’d hoped for.
“It worked pretty damn well.”
The sound of Jackson’s voice sent a chill up her spine. She used to love his voice. She would hear him and she’d immediately know she was in the presence of a friend. A friend who had been leeching her power for years and worked to infect her entire family with the darkness....
She turned around and narrowed her eyes. “Jackson. Long time no see.”
“You have no idea.” He continued to run his hands in the air, testing the bounds of the prison. “I was excited to get out, but I see that I’m not as free as I’d hoped.”
“You’re as free as you need to be,” said Derek.
Jackson didn’t look away from Sam. “But I’m freeish. And since you weren’t exactly full of warm fuzzies when I bit it, I’m guessing that you want something. So I’d like to know what makes you think that you’re going to get a damn thing from me while I’m in here.”
“I really hoped being in hell would kick that smugness out of you.”
“You have no idea what I’ve been through.” The words were low, almost a warning.
She tilted her head and considered him. Between Claire’s reaction to coming back and that, she really did wonder what had happened.
But she couldn’t exactly wait around to ask about it. She had a purpose to all this, and there was no more beating around the bush. “I need to know how to kill the darkness, Jackson.”
He raised a brow before he let out a bark of laughter. “Seriously? You brought me back here and think I’m going to help you?”
She raised her own brow in a mocking fashion. “I think I’m not the one who’s stuck in a two-square-foot prison right now.”
He clenched his jaw, and she could just see his manipulative mind bouncing over all the possible ways to get out of this. “Where’s Claire?” he suddenly asked.
“Claire is probably washing your stench off her.” Dante stepped forward to glare at him.
Jackson blinked a few times as he looked over to Dante. “Oh, I forgot you were there. Funny, because Claire kept on forgetting you existed whenever I was around her too.”
A vein in Dante’s neck stood out, and Angela put a hand on his upper arm as she pulled him back. “He’s defensive,” she warned. “Don’t let him get to you.”
Jackson looked to where Angela touched Dante and seemed much too interested in it. Which made Sam look, too, causing Angela to abruptly release Dante. Which was more telling than the touch itself.
“Where’s Claire?” asked Jackson again. “Seems a lot of things have changed since I’ve been gone.”
She didn’t acknowledge the question. “You know the darkness better than anyone, Jackson. Tell me how to end this.”
He was quiet as he turned around, testing the bounds of his prison by jamming his shoulder into the invisible walls.
“You should want the darkness gone more than anyone,” pointed out Sam. “It was using you. You did all the hard work and then Heather was going to be the one to get all the benefits, remember? You did so much and got nothing out of it.”
Jackson shoved his shoulder in the wall once more, grunting at the obvious pain. “Don’t tell me about what the darkness did to me,” he grunted. “I’m well fucking aware.”
“Then you won’t have a problem helping us kill it.”
He finally stopped his pointless assault on the prison to glare at her. “Then you won’t have a problem letting me out of here.”
He had to know she wasn’t stupid enough to fall for that. “Jackson, there’s absolutely no reason for me to trust you.”
“And there’s absolutely no reason for me to think you’re not going to send me right back to that place as soon as you’re done with me.”
Derek finally stepped forward, crossing his arms over his chest as he stared down Jackson. “After all the people you’ve killed, where exactly is it that you think you should go?”
“I don’t even know why you need my help. You should be able to talk to... oh.” He nodded as realization seemed to dawn on him. “No more Claudia then. And where is Heather?”
Everyone was silent as Jackson looked around the room, finally taking stock of all the participants. He pointed at Angela. “You shot me. I remember you.” He pointed to Bastian. “You’re the puppy who lost his master. Have you imprinted on Abigail yet?”
There was more silence, but Derek spoke. “Abigail has been taken over. She’s the one who broke the orb.”
Sam wanted to snap at Derek for sharing that piece of personal information, but she understood on some level. He was a cop and this was an interrogation. He didn’t want Jackson to lead the questions.
“Do you want to get out of that little box?” asked Derek.
Jackson narrowed his eyes and leaned back against the wall of his prison. For the first time, he actually appeared caged. “Where is Claire?” he asked again.
“If you give us something we can use, I can see about getting Claire back in here.”
Jackson’s eyes bounced around the room, doing the endless calculations about his options. Finally, he said, “Claudia would’ve known. But she wasn’t the only one. She had an apprentice at the time. The girl didn’t make it, but there was a diary she kept about the fight. She documented everything in that diary. Find the diary and you’ll know everything you need to know.”
“Where is the diary?” asked Derek, but Sam had a feeling there was a reason he was omitting that information.
“Years ago, I slipped into the vault and stole it. It was one of the first jobs the darkness ever gave me. I hid it where I knew it would never be found.”
“Why didn’t you destroy it?” asked Sam.
“Because I like insurance. I like a plan B, C, D, and all the way to fucking Z. I made sure it was where no human or witch would ever find it on purpose or on accident. But if you want one more goddamn thing from me, you’d better bring Claire in to me now.”
Derek glanced over and met Sam’s eyes, giving a little nod. She didn’t want to leave the room because she was the most powerful witch; she didn’t want Derek to leave either because, well, she just felt safer when he was around. So she looked over at Dante and gave him a little nod. He immediately turned and left to go get Claire.
Jackson put a foot against the side of his prison, almost as if he were relaxing, but she had a feeling that he was testing the walls once more. He must really be getting desperate....
“Don’t you feel anything?” she blurted.
“Feelings are for chumps.”
“You used me. For years, I thought you were a friend when I was just a battery for you. I thought I was broken, when it was you breaking me. Don’t you feel anything about that?”
He suddenly pushed away from the back and rested his hands against the front of his prison as he looked her down. “Do I feel bad? The juice I got from you kept me s
ane. It kept me from draining the life out of some poor sucker stupid enough to hang around with me. It kept me from being hunted down and shot like a rabid dog. It kept me from stumbling around like a starving zombie. So do I feel bad about what I did to you? No. I don’t fucking feel bad.”
“What about what you did to me?”
Claire’s voice had everyone turning to where she had entered the room. “You found me for Tommy Collins. You pointed your finger in my direction and my life changed forever. What about that? How do you feel about that?”
His jaw clenched so tightly that Sam was sure she was about to hear something break. Did Claire get something? Did Jackson actually feel bad about something? Did he have a conscience?
But he didn’t start apologizing for anything. Instead, he just looked at Claire. “You and I are the same. You know it. I know it. Eventually all your little friends will too.”
Claire forced a bitter smile and let out a laugh. “I knew you were an asshole, but when you say things like that, you’re just cruel. I’m nothing like you, Jackson. I never want to be anything like you. I’d rather die than ever lower myself to your level.”
He blinked and Sam couldn’t tell whether it was hurt or rage that passed over his face. “That’s a shame. Because when you realize exactly who and what you are, you won’t have me to cry to.” Then he turned and met Sam’s eyes. “Benton. The diary is in Benton.” Then he put the palm of his hand flat on his prison facing Madame Storm, who he had ignored this entire time. “I’m going to need that,” he said right as the knife flew through the air and smashed through the walls of the prison. When the knife hit the wall, a bright flash bounced off the walls of the room. Sam was thrown backward as the force of the spell breaking smashed through her.
By the time she opened her eyes, Jackson was out of the prison and standing over Claire with his hand around her neck.
“Let her go,” ordered Derek, his gun aimed right at Jackson.
Jackson ignored them all, and with the stolen knife pressed into Claire’s stomach, he slammed her against the wall before he leaned in close and whispered something in her ear.
