Storm Born (6 page)

I rolled my eyes. “Come on, I haven’t done that in years.”

He shrugged. “You’ve got something else to unload. I can see it in your eyes.”

“Well…speaking of watching my back…”

I stood up from the chair and took off the loose button-up shirt I wore over a tank top. I swept my hair aside and turned around so he could view my back.

He gave a small grunt when he saw the scratches. “Those look nasty. You get in a fight today?”

“They’re from four days ago. They won’t heal.”

“Do they hurt?”

“No.”

“What gave them to you?”

“Not sure. He looked human, but…I don’t know.” I let my hair drop and turned around, putting the shirt back on.

“How’d he get you at that angle and position?” Roland looked puzzled. “Were you wrestling?”

“Uh, that’s really not important,” I said hastily. “Have you ever seen anything like it?”

“Not exactly, no, but I’ve seen enough to not think this is too out there. If there was enough magic or whatever used to inflict them, they may just take awhile to heal.”

That didn’t really make me feel better, but I was unwilling to elaborate on my encounter with Kiyo.

I took a deep breath. “There’s one more thing.”

“I know. You’re going after the girl.”

So much for my dramatic proclamation. “How’d you know?”

“Because I know you, Eugenie. You’re foolish and headstrong with a naive sense of righteousness. You’re like me.” Not sure if that was a compliment or not.

“Then you understand.”

He shook his head. “It’s still dangerous. And stupid. You cross in your own body and—”

“And what?”

We both looked up like guilty children. My mother stood in the doorway in a wide-brimmed hat and dirt-covered gloves, further evidence of her gardening. I had a few planters out in the rock garden that passed for my backyard, but she maintained a veritable oasis. Her long, slightly graying hair streamed down her back as she regarded us. Her hair lacked my reddish hue, and her eyes were just blue, not violet-blue. Otherwise, everyone said we looked alike. I wondered if I’d age like her. I hoped so, although I would probably dye any gray away.

“What are you planning on doing, Eugenie?” she asked in a level tone.

“Nothing, Mom. Just hypothetical stuff.”

“You’re talking about going over
there
. I know what that means.”

“Mom—” I began.

“Dee—” Roland began.

She held up a hand to stop us both. “Don’t. I don’t want to hear it. Do you know how much I already worry about you in
this
world, Eugenie? And now you want to walk right into their homes? And you.” She turned on Roland, her eyes flashing. “I spent twenty years worrying about you. I’d lie awake, wondering which night would be the one you didn’t come home. I thanked God the day you retired, and now you’re encouraging her to—”

“Hey, whoa, he’s not telling me anything here. Leave him out if this if you want to thrash somebody. This is just me. He’s not involved.”

Roland turned on me. “Eugenie, if you insist on going, I might as well go—”

“Mom’s right. Your fight’s done. This one’s mine.”

My mom turned on me. “It’s not yours either! Why can’t you just worry about keeping them away from here? Why go after them?”

I told her. She kept her face proud and stony the entire time I spoke, but I could see her eyes betray her. The severity of the situation wasn’t lost on her, even as her words continued to deny that truth.

“You’re just like him. Too noble for your own good.” She suddenly looked older than her age. “You’re compensating for some sort of lack of attention as a child, aren’t you?” There she was, slipping into therapist mode again.

“Mom, she’s fourteen, er, fifteen now. If this were someone kidnapped locally, you’d agree to any measures to get her back.”

“I’d agree to measures that involved backup, not you alone.”

“I have no backup.”

“Except for me,” piped in Roland.

“No,” my mother and I told him together.

She turned to me and used that deadliest of weapons known to mankind: the Mom Card. “You’re my only child. My baby. If something happens to you…”

I was ready for her. “Jasmine’s someone’s baby too, even if her mom is gone. That almost makes it worse, actually. She lost her parents. She has no one. And now she’s trapped, being held hostage by some asshole who thinks it’s okay to kidnap and rape unwilling girls.”

My mom flinched as though I’d slapped her. She looked at Roland. They exchanged one of those long looks that couples who have been together for ages can do. I don’t know what they communicated, but she finally looked away from both of us.

“When…you get her back, bring her to me. It doesn’t matter if it’s…gentry or humans. She’ll need the same kind of therapy any other victim would.” I knew she did that kind of counseling with patients all the time, but I’d never thought of her as helping gentry victims. It was very kind for someone who tried to pretend the Otherworld didn’t exist.

“Mom—” I attempted.

She shook her head. “I don’t want to know anything else about it until it’s all over. I can’t know.”

She left us then, returning to the peace of her garden.

“She’ll recover,” Roland told me after a quiet moment. “She always does.”

Forced to accept the fact that I would be going over now, he was only too willing to flood me with as much tactical information as possible. It grew dizzying.

At one point, after I’d refused his third request to go with me, he said, “I assume you’ll be taking your
other
help.”

The tone in his voice showed undeniable derision for my “other help.” I knew he didn’t approve, but he had to recognize the benefits. “You know they’re an asset.”

“So is a grenade—until it goes off in your hand.”

“They’re better than nothing.”

He scowled but said no more, instead discussing more logistics with me: where and when to cross over and what weapons to bring. We decided it would be best for me to wait until the moon was in crescent phase, so I’d have a stronger connection to Hecate. She facilitated transitions, particularly to the Otherworld, which might be useful if I needed a hasty retreat. There’d be a nice crescent in about four more days.

I left their house without seeing my mother again. I hoped she wouldn’t take her feelings out on Roland, and I wondered how much it must suck to love someone who always walked into danger. I decided if I ever got married, I’d choose someone with a normal job whom I could expect to be home at normal hours. Like an electrician. Or an architect.

Or a veterinarian.

Ack.

As I got into my car to depart, I saw the strangest thing. A red fox watched me from the tree line on the far side of my parents’ house. More surprising than seeing it watch me so seriously was the fact that it was a red fox in the first place. They weren’t common in southern Arizona. You were more likely to see a gray fox or one of the silly-looking little desert kit foxes. I stared into this one’s yellow-brown eyes and shivered. Too many weird things were happening lately for me to feel comfortable with a studious fox, no matter how beautiful.

When I got back to my house, I knew it was time to solicit the “other help.” This was one of the areas where my path had split from Roland’s. He’d been my mentor and had years more experience, but we both knew I’d grown stronger. He could never have done what I was about to do. If he could, he might have understood why I relied on this sort of assistance.

I closed my bedroom door and then shut the curtains and blinds. Darkness fell, and I lit a candle, letting it be my only light source. I was strong enough to do a summoning without the stage tricks, just as I could cast out a spirit without divine help, but I didn’t want to waste the extra strength today.

I produced the wand and touched the smoky quartz crystal on it, strengthening my connection to the spirit world. Closing my eyes, I focused on the being I wanted and then recited the correct words. I often improvised words when I cast out creatures—hence my frequent use of expletives—but it didn’t usually matter, so long as my intent and meaning proved clear. For a summoning like this, however, I had to have everything right. I was essentially invoking a contract, and as any good lawyer knew, technicalities were everything.

The room grew freezing cold when I finished the incantation, a different kind of cold than the elemental had caused. A pressure sort of swirled around me, and then I knew I was no longer alone. I looked around and found him in the corner he usually appeared in, a black shape hidden among the shadows. Red eyes gleamed out at me from the darkness.

“I am here, mistress.”

I turned the light back on.

“Hey, Volusian, how’s it going?”

He stepped forward, blinking with annoyance at the light, just as I’d known he would. He was shorter than me, very solid and humanoid in shape, which indicated a fair amount of power. He had smooth, almost shiny black skin and those narrow red eyes that always unnerved me a little. His ears had a slight point to them.

“I am the same as always, mistress.”

“You know, you never ask how I am. That hurts.”

He answered my lazy smile with a long-suffering scowl. “That is because you are also always the same. You smell of life and blood and sex. And violets. You are a painful reminder of all the things I once was and all the things I will never be again.” He paused thoughtfully. “Actually, the scent of sex is stronger than usual. My mistress has been…busy.”

“Did you just make a joke?”

I said this partially to deflect the sex issue but also to keep teasing him. Volusian was about as damned as a soul could be. I didn’t know what he’d done when alive, but it had been evil enough that someone had cursed him from ever entering the world of the dead. His soul would never find any peace. So he had haunted my world and the Otherworld until I’d discovered him tormenting a suburban family.

He was so powerful, as was his curse, that I had not been strong enough to destroy him and send him on. The best I could have done was cast him to the Otherworld, but I had no guarantees he wouldn’t return. So I’d done the next best thing I could: I’d enslaved him. He was bound to me until I released him or lost control. This way, I dictated his actions. I usually kept him in the Otherworld until I needed him. Teasing him was a way to project confidence in my control, like I wasn’t worried at all. I couldn’t show any weakness with him. He had made it perfectly clear a number of times that he would kill me horrifically if he ever broke free.

He didn’t respond to my last comment. He simply stared. He was only obligated to answer direct questions.

“I need some advice.”

“I do as my mistress commands.” There was an implied
until I can choke the breath from her body
at the end of that seemingly subservient statement.

“I’m going to be crossing over into the Otherworld soon. Physically.”

That almost surprised him. Almost. “My mistress is foolish.”

“Thanks. I have to find a human girl that some horny gentry abducted.”

He reconsidered. “My mistress is brave and foolish.”

“She was taken by a guy named Aeson. Do you know him?”

“He is king of the Alder Land. Powerful. Very powerful.”

“Stronger than me?”

Volusian stayed silent, thinking. “Your powers do not diminish in the Otherworld, as some humans’ do. Even so, he will still be at his full strength. It would be a close battle. Were you to fight him in this world, there would be no contest. He would be weaker by far.”

“I don’t think I can manage that. What about you guys? I’m going to bring you along. Will it help?”

“I feared my mistress would say that. Yes, of course it will help. You know my binds force me to protect you, no matter how much angst it causes me.”

“Aw, don’t sound so glum. Think of it as job security.”

“Make no mistake, mistress. I may protect you now, but as soon as I have the chance, I will rip the flesh from your body and tear your bones apart. I will ensure you suffer so gravely that you will beg me for death. Yet, even then, your soul will not find relief. I will torture it for all eternity.”

He spoke in a flat tone, not as a threat, but simply as a statement of fact. Honestly, after my week of propositions, statements about my impending death were kind of a refreshing return to normality.

“Looking forward to it, Volusian.” I yawned and sat on the bed. “Anything else constructive you’ve got to offer? In rescuing the girl, I mean.”

“I suspect my mistress is too…set in her ways for my advice, but you could solicit help.”

“Solicit it from whom? I don’t have anyone else to go to.”

“Not in this world you don’t.”

It took me a moment to get what he was saying. “No. No way. I’m not going to some gentry or spirit for help. Not like they’d give it anyway.”

“I would not be so certain of that, mistress.”

Gentry were petty and dishonest. They had no regard for anyone but themselves. No way would I appeal to one. No way would I trust one.

Volusian watched me. When he saw I would not respond, he said: “It is as I thought. My mistress will not hear anything she doesn’t want to. She is too stubborn.”

“No, I’m not. I’m always open to things.”

“As you say, mistress.”

The look on his face somehow managed to be angelic and scream
you fucking hypocrite
all at the same time. “All right,” I said impatiently, “let’s hear it.”

“There is another king, Dorian, who rules the Oak Land. He and Aeson hate each other—in a polite-faced, political manner, of course.”

“No surprise there. I’m surprised they aren’t all turning on each other. That doesn’t mean he’d help me.”

“I believe Dorian would be very happy to see someone come and kill off Aeson. Especially if he did not have to actually do it himself. He might offer a great deal of assistance to see you do it.”

“‘Might’ being the operative word. So you’re suggesting I just show up at his door and ask for help?”

Volusian inclined his head in the affirmative.

“Have I ever killed or cast out any of his people?”

“Likely.”

“Then I think it’s ‘likely’ he’d kill me the moment I set foot on his land. I can’t imagine any gentry’s keen on letting their biggest assassin in the door.”

I wasn’t touting ego in that statement. Much like Volusian’s death threats, I simply stated a fact. I knew my own worth and reputation as far as the Otherworld was concerned. I mean, it wasn’t like I was reaching genocide levels or anything; I just had more notches on my belt than most.

“Dorian has…an odd sense of humor. It might amuse him to welcome an enemy like you. He would enjoy the sensation it would cause among others.”

“So he uses me for entertainment and then kills me.” I couldn’t believe Volusian was even suggesting a plan like this. He hated me, but he also knew me. If he hadn’t had such a stick up his ass, I would have sworn he was messing with me. Yet, his bindings forced him to sincerely give the best of his counsel if I asked it.

“If he gives you his word of hospitality, he is honor-bound to keep you safe.”

“Since when do gentry keep their word? Or have honor?”

Volusian regarded me carefully. “May I speak bluntly, mistress?”

“As opposed to usual?”

“Your hatred of the gentry blinds you to their true nature. You are also blind to the only thing that might let you escape this mad scheme alive—not that I would mind if you were torn to bloody shreds by Aeson’s people. But whatever else you believe, one of the gentry will stake his life on his word. They keep their oaths better than humans.”

I honestly didn’t believe that. No matter how much I might need help with this, it wasn’t worth it. I would not make a deal with the devil.

“No. I won’t do it.”

Volusian gave a small shrug. “As my mistress wishes. It makes no difference if you speed your own death. I cannot die, after all.”

I stared at him in exasperation. He stared back. Shaking my head, I stood up for another summoning.

“Okay, if that’s all, I’m gonna call the rest of the gang.”

He hesitated. “May I…ask my mistress a question first?”

I turned in surprise. Volusian was the epitome of don’t-speak-until-spoken-to. He only answered what was asked of him. He did not seek out other information. This was new. Wow. What a week of earth-shattering events.

“Sure, go ahead.”

“You do not trust me.”

“That’s not a question, but no, I don’t.”

“Yet…you came to me for advice first. Before you spoke to the others. Why?”

It was a good question. I was about to summon two other minions. I didn’t trust them either, but they had more reason to show loyalty than Volusian. They did not describe my graphic death on a regular basis.

“Because no matter what else you may be, you’re smarter than they are.” I could have elaborated on that, but I didn’t. That was really all there was to it.

He thought about this for a long time. “My mistress is less foolish than she normally appears.” I think it was the closest he could come to thanking me for a compliment—or giving one.

I took out the wand and summoned my other two spirits. I didn’t bother with candles or darkness because these ones were easier to call—especially since I was technically only “requesting” one to come, not ordering him.

The coldness and pressure came again, and then two other forms appeared. Volusian stepped back, arms crossed, not looking impressed. The two newcomers glanced around, taking note that I had gathered all of them. The three of them never interacted much in my viewing, but I always wondered if maybe they hung out for coffee or something in the Otherworld and made fun of me. Kind of like how people make fun of their boss after work during happy hour.

Still affecting unconcerned, lazy control, I unwrapped a Milky Way and sat back on my bed again. Leaning against the wall, I surveyed my team.

Nandi was less powerful than Volusian, so she had a less substantial form in this world. She appeared as a translucent, opalescent figure that seemed vaguely female in shape. Centuries ago, she had been a Zulu woman accused of witchcraft by her people. They had killed her and, like Volusian, cursed her from finding rest. Unlike Volusian’s, I could break this curse and send her on to the land of death. I had encountered her haunting this world, more frightening than harmful, and bound her in service to me in exchange for eventual peace. I had demanded three years of loyalty, one of which she had fulfilled. When the other two were up, I would let her pass on. Whereas Volusian always seemed sullen and sarcastic, Nandi was always sad. She was the poster child for a lost soul. A real downer.

Finn, however, was a different story. Of the three, only he looked happy to be here. He too was not powerful enough to have a solid form. He translated to this plane as small and glittering, barely there, much like how humans perceived Disney-type pixies. I had no claims on Finn. He had started hanging around because he found me entertaining. So he popped up from time to time, followed me, and would generally come when called. I had the power to force his service, but—even as much as I disliked all things from the Otherworld—I was hard-pressed to do so without provocation. I didn’t entirely trust anyone who offered help so freely, but he had never given me reason to doubt him either. Indeed, he’d always been very helpful. I had no idea what his story was, if he too was a cursed spirit. I’d never pressed for the details.

His shining body settled upon my dresser. “Hey, Odile, what’s new? Why do you smell like sex? Did you get some? Why are we all here?” Too much exposure to my world and television had given him a better grasp of our slang than the others.

I ignored the questions. “Hey, Finn, hey, Nandi.” The female spirit merely nodded in acknowledgment of the greeting. “So,” I said in my best boardroom voice, “I’m sure you’re all wondering why I called you here today.” None of them found that funny, so I just kept going. “Well, brace yourselves: I’m going to be paying you guys a visit. In the flesh. The real deal.”

Nandi showed no reaction whatsoever. Finn leapt up in excitement. “Really? Truly? When? Now?”

Nice to know someone appreciated me. I debriefed them, telling them the story. Volusian leaned against my wall, letting his body language convey to me what an utter waste of his time it was to have to hear this all again.

Finn’s enthusiasm diminished a little. “Oh. Well. That’s ballsy but also kind of…”

“Foolish,” said Nandi in her typically gloomy monotone. “It will end in despair. Dark, bitter despair. You will die, and I will never know peace. My suffering will be without end.”

“Never thought I’d hear you two agree with Volusian.”

Finn shrugged. “It is a good cause, honest. But you can’t really just walk into Aeson’s castle and take the girl. Not that I’m saying you aren’t tough enough or anything. You’ll just need a plan. A really good one. Yeah. What’s your plan?”

“Um, well…to walk into his castle and take the girl.”

Volusian sighed loudly. It was hard to tell with those red slits, but I think he rolled his eyes.

I shot him an angry glance. “Hey, it’s a hell of a lot better than your plan. Would you like to share it with the rest of the class?”

He did.

When he finished, Finn said, “Now, that’s a good plan.”

I threw my hands up. “No, it’s not. It’s a horrible plan. I’m not asking one of the gentry for help.”

“King Dorian might help you,” offered Nandi, “although his help would most likely only offer a brief flaring of hope, which would then make our ultimate defeat that much more tragic.”

“Stop with the maudlin crap, Nandi.” I wished they made ghost Prozac. “Anyway, it’s a moot point. We’re taking on Aeson directly. End of discussion.”