by J. P. Rice
“What? Are you crazy?”
“Guilty as charged. I need to come clean with you.” I started to shift into my normal self.
Cheryl’s facial features twisted in disbelief as my hair grew longer and turned scarlet. My body shrank slightly, and my clothes loosened. Without the service of a mirror, I assumed I looked old as shit.
I put the ball in her court. “Is there anything you want to tell me?”
She shook her head and looked away. Something was different about her. And not just the shocked look on her face from my shift. “Nope,” she muttered under her breath.
I stepped closer to her and massaged her shoulder. “I know this is a lot to take in right now, but I’m sick of acting like someone else.”
She slapped my hand away, spun to face me and wrapped her hands around my neck. What the fook? I tried to break the hold as her face started to blur and swirl around. Her arms grew bigger and stronger, firming their grip around my throat.
Chapter 30
Cheryl’s jeans exploded from her growing body but the heat suit only expanded. A duster took form and I noticed the carryall slung over his shoulder. How could he shift like that? I quickly realized that he hadn’t shifted and had utilized an illusion spell to hide his true form. Tricky devil.
As he grew taller, my feet lifted off the ground and he raised his arms above his head. My body dangled in mid air as I gagged, fighting for oxygen. I tried kicking him, but my tired body combined with Bruceras’s size prevented me from landing anything substantial.
As the oxygen started to run out and the end neared, my thoughts went to the start of the week. I’d saved some of the citizens from Ice Heart. Now they were at his mercy and the winter in Pittsburgh would never end. I’d failed on both missions. How did Bruceras know about the flute?
Holy shit. With oxygen running out, my brain came up with a brilliant idea. I ran my hand down the sleeve of Bruceras’s duster and found a zipper near his elbow. Carefully, I inched the zipper open with my thumb. I positioned my palm underneath in case the object fell out.
Link by link, I opened the zipper and felt a piece of cold metal hit my hand. I grabbed Ice Heart’s flute and raised my shaky arm up to my trembling lips. How could I blow into this thing? I had nothing left in my lungs. Sharp colors streaked through my vision, indicating that I would pass out soon.
I cupped the flute in my hand so Bruceras wouldn’t see it, held it to my lips and thought I was blowing but no sound came from the instrument. With Bruceras’s grunting, I couldn’t tell if it was making any sound. The oxygen deprivation caused my hand to sag and fall to my side.
The world around me slowed. The sounds of the ocean filled my ears. My brain felt heavy. Everything went black.
A sudden impact jolted me awake. Barely. My eyelids wouldn’t open, but I was conscious. Apparently, Bruceras had tossed me to the ground.
“Time to end this bitch once and for all,” Bruceras said.
My eyelids flickered open to see the bottom of Bruceras’s boot racing toward my face. A strange sound, like something burrowing through the ground, grabbed the devil’s attention and stopped his motion. I turned my head to the right and Ice Heart was streaking toward us.
I sat up and noticed that Bruceras’s eyes were bulging out of his head. Ice Heart scooted up, coming to an abrupt stop in front of Bruceras.
“What are you doing here?” Bruceras asked, confused.
Ice Heart didn’t answer his question. Instead he sauntered up to me as I scrambled to my feet and backed away. He said, “I told you I’d be back to kill you.”
“So you came on your own volition?” Bruceras asked.
“No. You summoned me,” he returned, pacing toward me.
“I did nothing of the sort, but since you are here...” Bruceras hinted.
“Anything you order, master,” Ice Heart said.
I slid my feet backward steadily, putting more distance between me and these two knuckleheads. When Ice Heart focused his attention back on me, I held the flute in front of my chest. Four eyes almost bulged out of the two men’s heads.
Bruceras fumbled with his sleeve, his fingers poking into the open pocket. As much as I wanted to kill this asshole myself, I didn’t have enough energy or power to take him on. If Vlad hadn’t been able to take him out, what chance did I have?
I looked right into the menacing blue eyes of Ice Heart. In my best Tony Montana voice, I said, “Kill that piece of shit.” I pointed directly at Bruceras’s chest. Directly at the man who had raped me and had tried to kill me several times.
The men turned to each other and appeared confused. I said, “Let’s go. I’m your master now. Kill him.”
The ice monster shrugged and muttered what sounded like an apology under his breath, then charged at Bruceras. I sat back to enjoy the mayhem I’d just unleashed.
Two enormous bodies smashed into each other, and Bruceras tumbled backward. The two men rolled around, fighting for position and grunting like animals. The ideal scenario would be if they killed each other at the same time.
Bruceras escaped from the grappling and made it back to his feet. He extended his arms and fire sprang from his fingertips, engulfing the ice monster, who screamed in primal agony. His icy exterior melted rapidly under the fiery assault. The liquid dribbled toward Bruceras.
My stomach turned as the tiny body inside the enchanted ice started to appear. Bruceras allowed his flames to dissolve and took two paces closer to the wrinkled, old man. He pulled a long knife from inside the duster. The dark dragon glass blade caught a few lazy rays of the sun and glimmered dangerously.
Bruceras jabbed toward Ice Heart’s throat with the point of the blade. The old man ducked down, and in a crouched position, he slid along his ice track. He shot right between Bruceras’s wide stance and ended up behind the devil.
Within a second, his icy exterior reconstructed and he returned to his original size. Bruceras spun to meet his ten-foot tall opponent. Ice Heart leaned down and unleashed an uppercut that landed on Bruceras’s crotch. A demon dick punch. Good. The devil doubled over, grabbing his manhood.
Ice Heart had the upper hand, but I called on some of my magic in case things went south. I was almost out of energy, so I recast the protection spell around my body. I brought my fire to the surface. If Ice Heart was victorious, I couldn’t be sure he would respect the flute and not come after me.
I let the fire build inside as Ice Heart landed a clean punch on Bruceras’s jaw. His head whipped to the side and a spurt of black blood shot from his mouth. Ice Heart threw a straight left that connected with his opponent’s nose. Dark blood exploded again, racing from his nostrils and dribbling down his face into the snow.
With Bruceras dazed, Ice Heart released a wicked combination of punches that a prizefighter would have been proud of. His last punch landed right below Bruceras’s right eye. The devil stumbled to the side and fell face down in the snow.
Ice Heart blew on his knuckles and seemed to be relishing the fight. He circled Bruceras’s still body and I wondered why he wasn’t finishing him off. He made a fist, then straightened his hand. It appeared he was debating how he should kill the devil.
“Just end him,” I told Ice Heart and held up the little flute.
Ice Heart balled his two giant hands together as he hovered above the fallen Bruceras. He raised his hands up high, preparing to crush his opponent’s skull. His arms started coming down like a guillotine. In a flash, Bruceras made it to his knees, spun around and went on the attack.
The obsidian blade was now glowing orange. In an uppercut motion, Bruceras dragged the knife from the ground. The blade tore into Ice Heart’s thigh, then slashed his belly, continued up his chest and finally sliced through the monster’s chin.
Ice Heart’s enchanted ice shell melted instantly, leaving the hoary man vulnerable. Before the ice monster could reconfigure his exterior, the devil slashed again. This time, Bruceras used a horizontal swipe, right across Ice Heart’s n
eck. Oh, fook.
I coalesced the flames inside me, trying to make them as powerful as possible. Ice Heart’s human body shriveled into a mass of wrinkled skin the size of a beachball. I hastily combined the flames and sent them to my hand.
I didn’t have time to develop them into a perfect circle for maximum efficiency as Bruceras turned and faced me with an evil grin. Even though I wished I had more time, it was now or never. I widened the mass of flames and heaved them at Bruceras’s midsection.
Bruceras tried to jump with his legs spread to allow the flaming mass to miss his body. Unfortunately for him, his foot slipped on a patch of ice. He didn’t get the height he wanted, and the fire slammed into his genitals. The wide mass tore through his hips too, then traveled out the backside, tearing his buttocks to shreds.
I hadn’t planned it that way, but life worked in funny ways.
A shrieking scream that threatened to pierce my eardrums cut through the frozen forest. Bruceras crashed to the ground, dark blood gushing from where his penis used to be.
“That is what we call poetic justice, right there,” I boasted. It didn’t get any more personal than this.
He stared down at his mangled manhood, and through short, chirping breaths, he said, “The fuck did you do?”
“The right thing for once,” I said. I conjured a bastard sword and planned to shove the point of the blade through his heart. The leather grip materialized in my palm, then the cross-guard took form, followed by the short silver blade.
“You’re going to pay for what you did to me,” I said, as he writhed around in pain. “I wish you hadn’t been standing next to Merlin in Machu Picchu when I pushed him out of the way. I never meant to save your life from Balor, but I did. And now I’m going to end it.”
I stood over the shuddering body of the man who had caused me more mental anguish than anyone else. I shifted my grip and got ready to plunge the blade through his chest. I caught a blurry image out of my peripheral.
Before I realized it, Bruceras had swung his hand toward me. By the time I figured it out, the glowing blade of his knife was screaming toward my belly. I sucked in my gut and backed away, but he was too quick. I held my hand out in defense and the edge of the blade chewed through my palm and didn’t stop.
The momentum continued and his shank sliced across my belly, just below my navel. The bastard sword fell from my hand and fluttered into the snow a few feet away. Before I could react, Bruceras reached up and grabbed hold of my ear.
He pulled me in and head-butted me, ramming his dense forehead into mine. Silver streaks entered my vision as a pair of gigantic hands closed around my throat. What the fook had just happened? I had been about to strike the death blow.
He rolled me over, positioning himself above me, still grunting in pain as he firmed his grip. I gagged and flopped around, trying to break free. But he was too big and too strong. I was out of energy and I’d been aging, depleting any power I might have in the reserves.
“You stole my manhood. But I am going to violate you in ways you’ve deemed unimaginable. And it’s all your fault, you stupid bitch.” He threw the sack with the Harp aside. I couldn’t believe he’d held onto it during the previous fights.
I thought about the meaning of the word hurricane referring to the female slaves. Something began to stir inside me. I thought about Cheryl and all the other women who’d been wronged by abusive men.
With the pent-up rage of a million women running through me, a surge of energy started in my toes and raced up to my forehead. Strength built inside me in the form of the ghosts of all those women, begging to be released. I felt my biceps swell as the oxygen almost ran out.
The world went dark momentarily, before an explosion of red nearly blinded me. A ginger storm was brewing. My eyes shot open and my hands moved without thought. I slapped up at Bruceras’s forearms and broke the chokehold. Surprise ran through his dark eyes and he went for my neck again.
I smacked his shoulder and jolted him back off me. Squirming away, I made it to my feet again. Bruceras lunged for me, his fingertips scraping my hip as I backed away. Because he couldn’t walk, he crawled after me, his arms reaching for my legs.
This fight encapsulated my fight to erase the memory of Bruceras. The damn bastard just wouldn’t go away. Now it was time to end that. I hoped that if I killed Bruceras once and for all, the horrible flashbacks would stop.
Without much energy or magical prowess, I went to the tried and true. As a dragon, fire was the easiest attack for me. Even though it had failed me earlier, I gathered the flames inside. Bruceras kept coming at me, and I backpedaled to keep enough distance betwixt us.
He wasn’t even trying to use magic. That told me his injury was so severe that either it had limited his use of magic or he had to concentrate on the wound and couldn’t access his special abilities. The orange glow on the blade returned to obsidian. Bruceras threw it aside and continued to drag his body through the snow leaving a wide trail of blood.
I felt like my belly was going to explode into flames from the fire I was gathering. Since I was trying to kill a devil, I decided to up the ante on my attack. I drew flames to my hands, and I felt them mingling with the blood in my left hand. Blood fire.
I pointed my hands at Bruceras as the flames ran up my chest and into my throat, where it contacted some more of my blood. The bloody flames ran through my mouth and shot out in a steady stream. I followed it by blasting him with the fire coming from my hands.
The flames engulfed his entire body. Blood fire. Poetically, it resembled lava, and tore through his flesh and bones, searching for organs to destroy. Feral shrieks erupted from the wall of flames, and after a few seconds, the carnal sounds were gone. Only the sounds of rippling fire remained.
The intense fire ate away at his body, turning a once proud devil into a damp pile of ashes. Within the darkness, I could see little bits of silver. His cord. The wind picked up and I kicked his ashes into it, trying to sever his silver cord. I scattered the wet chunks of his remains around so that they couldn’t reassemble.
Drained of energy, I collapsed into the snow, blood leaking from my hand and gut. Bres and Ice Heart were finally dead, and the Harp was just outside my reach. I could barely move so I hadn’t a clue as to how I would escape these woods and make it to safety. All signs pointed to me dying out here.
Chapter 31
I tried to get to my feet and fell on my face. Fook it. I hooked the strap of the leather carryall around my arm and started to crawl toward the exit. Was I going the right direction? I couldn’t tell.
I felt old. Weary. Cranky. My bones were sore. It was as if Bres had teamed up with Father Time during our brawl. The aches and pains all over my body took a backseat to the knife wounds. Then the discomfort centered in my wrist and started to burn. The Raven’s Eye.
I stretched open my skin and a radiant eye stared at me. I tapped it to send a message to the Morrigan. My heart jumped as words came from the device. “Please record your message.”
After the beep, I said, “Mo. I’m stuck in the woods in St. Louis. I need help getting out of here. You can track me through the Raven’s Eye.”
A few seconds later, the Morrigan’s voice sounded from the eye, “Holy shit. Thought we lost you. One of my birds in the area saw Bres pick up the flute. I thought you were a goner. Stay put. Help is on the way.”
Ah, the perks of being friends with the Goddess of Death. Relief pumped through me. I wouldn’t die in the middle of nowhere. Another surge of pride rushed from head to toe, leaving a tingly feeling. I’d killed Ice Heart and Bres. I had the item I needed to stop the never-ending winter in Pittsburgh.
I’d done well. I’d saved the little Alexises of Pittsburgh. And their parents. Unfortunately, my happiness was marred because I still felt bad about what had happened to Mike Merlino. I’d caused plenty of mayhem in my day, but this situation wore on me more than all those other events combined.
The euphoria died and the agonizing
pain in my stomach returned.
Ferocious flapping sounds captured my attention, and I lifted my head. An enormous raven circled above, descending into the clearing. The creature landed, and as it walked toward me, it morphed into the Morrigan.
Within three steps, the avian creature had disappeared. The Morrigan strode toward me with her voluminous cloak sweeping the ground. She grinned and leaned down. “Shit. You need some help, girl.”
“Yeah. I need to get to Goibniu’s to get some of his elixir,” I told her.
She pointed at my gut, “You might need a doctor first for those cuts.”
I checked out the blood still gushing from my palm. “I’ll be all right once I get some of that nectar.”
“You sure? We can stop at Clara Spiritus and see Dian Cécht first,” she said. It was probably the wisest move right now. “You can drop off that Harp to the Dagda too.”
I shook my head. “I can’t give the Harp to the Dagda yet.”
“Why not?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.
“Because I want to give it to Mike so he can return it to the Celtic Gods,” I informed her.
“Ohhh. That guy is pissed at you, by the way.” She paused for a moment as she inspected my wounds. “When I told him about the flute, he said you can shove it up your ass. He’s super pissed off.” She held out her hand.
“I know,” I said, grabbing her hand and pulling myself up. I stumbled, and the Morrigan hooked my arm and held me up. “That’s why I’m trying to make him look like the hero. Maybe he’ll forgive me. It really wasn’t my fault.”
I caught my balance, and she removed her hand from my arm.
“I know you’re tough but you need some work on those wounds. Goibniu’s medical staff can handle these little cuts,” said Mo.
The acute pain from the cuts intensified and a wash of numbness swept over my body. The kind where your heart stops momentarily, and you are unsure of whether it will start up again. Then fire. My body started to overheat. And my heart started back up, racing out of control.
