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Authors: Lisa Papademetriou

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BOOK: Fury's Fire
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“Not yet. Not fully,” Asia agreed. “Tisiphone is what you are becoming. That was why Calypso wanted me to deliver you before you awakened. While you were still at your weakest.”

Asia turned her head, as if she heard something. “Will is calling for you,” she said, a moment before Gretchen heard the distant shout. She heard it again, and Will appeared, running toward them. He had a cell phone in his hand. His hair was dry now, but his feet were still bare, which told Gretchen that whatever he had come to tell them, the news was bad.

Her heart felt as if it had shrunk, constricting the flow of the blood through her body.
I don’t want to hear it
, she thought, but she couldn’t stop him from coming toward them, couldn’t stop the news from being
what it was. She felt like a stick borne forward on a swiftly flowing river, powerless to change course, following a route worn into rock over ages, as changeless as the march of time.

“Gretchen!” Will raced toward her. “I just talked to Angus.” He was breathless, his face flushed. He looked beautiful and terrified. “Kirk is freaking out.”

“What?”

“He’s at the diner, totally flipping. He’s got a knife and is threatening to kill himself, but he’s demanding to talk to you.” Will’s body was tensed; he looked ready to take flight.

Gretchen clung to Asia’s arm, and the seekrieger placed a strong arm around her waist, supporting her. To her shame, Gretchen’s first reaction was anger. She didn’t want to go help Kirk. She had other problems to deal with. She didn’t need to handle Kirk’s drama right now.

But he was at Bella’s—with a knife. Anger gave way to guilt.
I’m responsible for the fact that he’s there
, she realized. An image of Kirk’s sad, frightened eyes flashed in her mind. Compassion overwhelmed her.

“We have to go now,” Asia said.

“Yes,” Gretchen agreed.

At once they ran, together, racing back across the field. With every step, Gretchen felt herself driven forward, toward a destiny that she wasn’t sure she wanted but didn’t think she could avoid.

Chapter Eighteen

From
A Cultural Study of Madness,
by Philip de Guerre, PhD

Many cultures hold beliefs in spirit, or demonic, possession, and it is mentioned specifically at several points in the Bible, as well as other sacred texts. We now know, of course, that spirit possession unequivocally does not exist—the symptoms ascribed to those “possessed” mirror accounts of people with several different kinds of mental illness or psychiatric disorders, including Tourette’s syndrome, bipolar disorder, psychosis, multiple personality disorder, and so on. As you see, society finds a way to label different types of “abnormal” or dissociative behavior, often endowing these people with powers beyond those of mere mortals.

Angus was waiting by the back entrance, hunched into a navy peacoat, when Will screeched to a stop in the parking lot. He slammed Carl’s truck into park and yanked open the door. Gretchen was already out the other side, Asia spilling onto the asphalt behind her.

“That kid is so fired,” Angus said as Gretchen brushed past him and into the diner.

The first face Gretchen saw was Angel’s. His jaw
was slack, his complexion ashy—Angel, whose first response was always rage, looked sick and frightened. Lisette was parked at the doorway to the dining room, making sure that no customers tried to intervene. Kirk was on the floor, writhing and singing in a language that Gretchen didn’t know. The words were harsh and guttural, strange and ugly to her ear. In his hand was a boning knife, and there was blood on his sleeve and a bloody handprint on his white apron. Dark red drops splattered and smeared the white tiles, as if he had half dragged himself across the floor, beneath the metal prep table.

“Kirk,” Gretchen called softly.

His head snapped toward her, and for a moment he smiled softly, gratefully, like he was really Kirk, and was really happy to see her. Then the expression darkened, and a strange fire came into the dark pools of his eyes. He sang a few more words, then—with an awkward, contorting gesture—plunged the boning knife into his thigh.

Will gasped. “Jesus, Kirk!”

“Oh shit!” Angus pulled out his cell phone and started to dial emergency services. Asia grabbed the phone out of his hand and tossed it into the sink, where it landed with a metal clang. “I just bought that!” Angus protested, then withered a little under Asia’s glare.

Kirk yanked the knife out of his thigh and scrambled to his feet. With a shout, he plunged toward Gretchen, knife high. Gretchen pulled up her arm to
defend herself, but Asia was faster. She caught Kirk’s wrist and twisted it, but his fingers clung to the handle of the blade like a vine grown tight around a branch.

“I’ll destroy this body before I let you harm her,” Asia said.

Kirk started at the voice, as if Asia’s face had no relevance but the voice had stirred a distant memory. He stared up at Asia, and his eyes glittered with a fierce golden light. For the first time, Gretchen was certain that whatever that thing was, it wasn’t Kirk. “Asia,” the thing said with a strange inflection. “Are you going to protect her?” The voice was sneering, and a hungry light illuminated his face, as if this thing would relish such a challenge. “Destroy this body, then. I dare you.”

Asia narrowed her eyes and looked as if she just might, but Gretchen shouted, “No!”

In the moment of uncertainty, Kirk broke free, but he did not lunge toward Gretchen. Instead, he backed into the table and raised his arm.

Gretchen leaped at him before he could plunge the knife into his own chest. The blade caught her on the shoulder, opening a wound that bled onto her new peach shirt.

And suddenly everyone was in motion. Angel, Will, Angus, Asia—everyone lunged forward and pinned Kirk, still screaming, to the floor. But something had changed. He was screaming in English. His voice was hysterical, but it had lost its strange inflection, its
guttural cast. His eyes remained dark pools as Asia pinned his arm to the table, and he dropped the knife to the floor, where it clattered and spun.

“Why did you stop me?” he screamed. “You shouldn’t have stopped me!”

Asia whispered something in his ear. He screamed again, but she whispered more, until finally he gave up shouting and started coughing. After a moment, his body relaxed a little, and his eyes fluttered closed.

The room had grown completely silent, and it took Gretchen a moment to realize that Kirk had actually fallen asleep. He was splayed backward across a metal table, limbs twisted at odd angles, blood flowing from the wound in his leg, and he was sleeping sound as a baby.

Asia cradled Kirk in her arms and placed him gently on the table.

“Oh, Asia,” Lisette breathed.

Angel looked at Asia. “I had a whole speech prepared for if I ever saw you again. It’s about how pissed I was that you bailed out on us at the end of the summer, but I think I’ll skip it.”

Will touched Gretchen’s shoulder with a finger. “This looks bad.”

“It hardly hurts.” Gretchen winced slightly as she twisted her shoulder, trying to get a better look at the injury.

Angus fished his cell phone out of the sink. “It’s still working,” he announced. “I know you were all really concerned. I’m dialing 911 now.”

“He’ll be all right,” Asia said, looking down at Kirk.

“That dude needs to be in a mental hospital,” Angus said. “He’s completely out of control.”

“He’s been doing so well.” Angel surprised Gretchen with the sadness in his voice.

“What happened?” Lisette asked. “Nothing seemed to provoke him. One minute he was Kirk; the next minute he was—”

“Someone else,” Gretchen finished for her.

Lisette nodded. “It was like that.”

Angel took her hand, and they both looked down at the sleeping Kirk as if he were their baby.

Asia gave Gretchen a knowing look. “He was not himself,” she said.

“So who was he?” Angus asked. He sounded like he was joking, but Gretchen suspected that he wasn’t.

Asia looked at him as if she might say something, then thought better of it. “We need to get Kirk to the hospital,” she said, just as red lights began to flicker through the window.

“He’s a frequent guest there, anyway,” Will said.

Asia didn’t reply. She simply brushed Kirk’s dark hair away from his damp forehead. In a moment an EMT in dark blue stepped in, carrying a bag of equipment. He took one look at Kirk and walked over to the table asking, “Anyone else?”

“Take care of him first,” Gretchen said as the man’s partner came in.

“Let me take a look,” the new EMT insisted.

Gretchen pulled back her sleeve. The EMT frowned. “Pull it back further, please.” She did, twisting so that the rear of her shoulder showed. He inspected her
shoulder, then gave her a wry smile. “No wound,” he said.

“What?”

“Must be the other guy’s blood.”

Gretchen twisted her neck to get a better view as both EMTs turned to Kirk. She had felt the knife slice her flesh. But he was right—there was no wound.

Kirk wasn’t in any danger, but he needed to go to the hospital for his leg.

“I’ll ride with him in the ambulance,” Asia offered.

Will, Gretchen, and Angus decided to follow in the truck, while Lisette and Angel had to stay and clean up. Angus called Kirk’s sister to let her know what was happening.

“Great to see you again, Asia, by the way,” Angus said as Will took Gretchen’s arm and led her toward the door. “Glad you showed up. Things were just getting a little boring around here.”

“Would someone fill this out?” the triage nurse asked. She looked at Gretchen through round horn-rimmed glasses and passed a stack of papers across the desk. Gretchen took the paperwork and followed Will into the waiting room. Angus was sitting there, munching popcorn and staring at a television blaring a game show. He looked over at them and poured the rest of the popcorn into his mouth before tossing the black bag into the trash. Then he brushed the crumbs off his lap and hurried over to them.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Gretchen told him.

“Where’s Asia?” Will asked.

Gretchen understood that it was perfectly natural for him to ask, but it still irritated her. She didn’t like to hear Asia’s name on his lips. It sounded too natural there, too beautiful.

“She’s with Kirk,” Angus said, and then—as if she’d heard them talking about her—Asia appeared. Her movements were slow and she seemed thoughtful as she walked up to them.

“How is he?” Will asked.

“He’s surprisingly strong.” Asia frowned. “Not many survive what he’s been through.”

“Yeah, about that,” Angus put in. “Would anyone like to fill me in on just what that is?”

Asia cocked her head, as if she had just noticed Angus. “Why are you even here?”

He rolled his eyes. “Lady, I have no idea.”

“I want him to stay,” Gretchen announced. Will lifted his eyebrows slightly, but she ignored him.

“Seriously?” Angus looked delighted.

“Look, why don’t you just tell us what’s going on?” Gretchen demanded. She glared at Asia. Her body was shaking with the effort it took not to strike out, hit something. “You’re the only one who knows, so just—share.”

Asia looked around the waiting room. It was empty. Nine twenty-three on a Sunday night, and people seemed to be avoiding injuring themselves. The triage nurse sat behind her counter, chatting on the
phone with someone who—by the tone and content of the conversation—seemed to be her daughter. She wasn’t likely to eavesdrop on them. Asia gestured for the others to follow, and she led them to the far corner, over by the windows. Asia perched herself on the edge of one of the tasteful but uncomfortable blue chairs. A ficus sat behind her, sad in its leafy attempt to make the setting seem less depressing.

Gretchen took the chair next to Asia, and Will sat on the other side of Gretchen. Angus flopped into a chair across from them. He was the only one who looked eager to hear what she had to say. Gretchen thought that Will looked exactly how she was feeling—filled with dread.

Asia pressed her palms against her knees, then took a deep breath. “You know about spirit possession, I suppose?” She looked up.

“Totally saw
The Exorcist
,” Angus said with a wave, like he was an expert.

Asia looked at him a moment, then turned to Gretchen and Will.

“Is that what happened to Kirk?” Gretchen asked. “He was possessed by a demon?”

Asia flinched at the word
demon
, but eventually she nodded. “Not a demon exactly, but—”

“Not
not
a demon,” Will finished for her.

A humorless smile touched Asia’s lips. “It’s probably the right word. The only word.”

“Does the demon have a name?” Gretchen asked.

“Circe,” Asia said, touching the smooth wooden
arm of the chair. “She’s a very powerful witch. She was sent to dwell in the spirit world, but something has awakened her.”

“Something like …?” Gretchen prompted.

“Like the change in her sister and rival.”

“Circe is a Siren?”

“Her mother was one of our kind—Perse—and her father another immortal. There is Siren in her, but she is more powerful than we are. Much more. Still, somehow Calypso sent Circe to the spirit world. Now that Calypso is diminished, Circe has resurfaced. The destruction of many Sirens has given those who dwell on the next plane new strength. The universe is woven together in a web, Gretchen—the human world, the spirit world. You cannot disturb one strand without affecting the fabric. The spirit world is reacting to the shock waves from this world.”

BOOK: Fury's Fire
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