Tell (8 page)

“You're wrong. I
do
need you.”

“I'm tired, Princess. Tired in the kind of way I don't think a nap's gonna fix.” He melted onto the bed. “Do me a favor. Go home and take the rat with you. If Wys and Eban aren't back by the time I get up, someone in the Gray Lands, and maybe Hell, is going to be sorry they crossed me.”

His words cast a chill over her that raced into her marrow. The vision Meacham had shared with her made it seem like Tell might really devolve from this miserable creature into a monster. She had to prevent it. “I'm not leaving you. They'll be back soon. Until then, you stay right here.”

He muttered a noise that might have been made in disagreement, but his eyes drifted shut.

“Dochi,” she whispered.

The demon's tail wagged. “Yes, Mistress?”

“Can you find Seneca? Tell needs him.”

Dochi nodded. “I will find them all. Bring them here if it is possible. You take good care of Master Tell until Dochi returns.” He vanished, leaving an unsettling stillness inside Tell's house.

Chapter Eight

“I'm so sorry, Tell.” Sandra perched on the fountain lip, hands folded in her lap, a worried frown on her face. The angel behind her dripped water into the pool. The rusty stains beneath its eyes glistened bright as blood. “You have no idea.”

Fifteen if she was a day, she hadn't changed as the years passed. Glossy dark brown hair flowed over the shoulders of her white dress. Big blue eyes begged for his forgiveness.

“What are you doing here?” Tell turned his back on her. “Everything that's happened to me is your fault.”

“I know.”

“Fix it. You did it, so undo it.” He faced her again. “Make me like Wystan and Eban. Take whatever demon you cast inside me and banish it.”

“I can't.” She spread her hands in a gesture of helplessness.

“Why'd you do it, Sandra? What did I ever do to make you hate me so much?” He wanted to shake her and at the same time, couldn't bear the idea of touching her.

“I never hated you,” she whispered. “It wasn't my choice. Someone made me. They handed me the book and told me to read from it under the new moon. I thought—I thought it would make you stronger.”

“Who?” The word left his mouth as a growl.

“You know it was one of his. I don't know
which
one. They're everywhere.” Sandra stared at her lap. “They're demons, Tell. They manipulate, they lie, they break every promise they make. I was young. I didn't know any better.”

He put his hand on top her head, tilting it back. A jolt of energy rushed through him. “What's my name, Cassandra?”

“You know I can't. Not even here.” Her voice came out raspy as fall leaves.

“Say it.”

“It's not allowed.” Tears welled in her eyes. “Even between planes.”

“I could snap your neck,” he snarled.

“I'm already dead.” No fear in the words, just a matter-of-fact statement that set his pulse racing. “You can find it. The book that can reverse everything. It's here. I can't do it. I'm dead, remember?”

“Here, where?” He dropped to his knees. “Tell me where you hid it.”

She smiled for the first time. “I'm glad you asked. It's—”

White light blinded him. Tell slapped at the hand holding his eyelid open. “Where is it?”

Eban, rumpled, dirty and battle-worn, took a step back. “He'll live.”

Tell pushed himself up on his elbows. “You're alive.”

“Don't sound so surprised.” Wystan braced his hands on his hips. “We weren't sure we could say the same about you. You look like hell.”

“You're a fine one to talk.”

Gore stained their clothes, faces and hands. Behind them, in the darkness of the corner, Seneca watched with Dochi curled at his feet. If Seneca had faced battle, it didn't show on him.

“Well, well. The gang's all here.” Relief flooded him. “Akhar?”

“Banished to a deep, dark corner of Hell. It will be some time before he works his way free of his dungeon,” Seneca said. He emerged from the shadows. “Forgive me, Tell. I trusted him when you did not and he repaid my kindness with treachery that nearly killed you. I thought he would help us find a way to remove the curse. Instead, he attempted to use your manifesting powers for his own purposes.”

“Yeah, I already figured out that part.” He lifted his hand and his fingers burst into flames. “Guess he didn't get them all.”

“No, that would be impossible unless he killed you. Lucky that you escaped.”

“
Lucky
?” Tell bit off a curse. “Lucky isn't quite the word I'd use,
Dad.
”

Seneca's mouth twisted in a frown. “It was a miracle, quite honestly. Akhar was powerful and given the energy he stole from you, a serious threat to all of us.”

Tell rolled his eyes. “Where's Sylvie?”

“Home. I sent her to tell Rhia we're alive.” Wystan drew his bowie knife from its sheath. He grabbed the end of Tell's sheets and proceeded to clean the blade. “Akhar's finished, but it leaves a mess trying to figure out if there are other demons in the Gray Lands who'd like to try the same thing.”

“I'm not going back there.” An edge of fear slid out. “Every one of them knows what I can do and I'm not giving them another chance to kill me.”

“I wouldn't ask that. For now, you're safer here than in the Gray Lands.” Seneca glanced down at Dochi. “Eban is perfecting a new talent of his own.”

“What?” Tell eyed his brother. “What the hell else kind of weird shit is happening?”

“That thing you do, reading minds?” Eban smiled. “Turns out I can almost do it. Well enough that we think we can trust Nebo.”

“You trust that thing?” Tell closed his eyes. “It comes near me and I'm sinking every bolt I have into its hide.”

Except he'd lost them in that cave. All his weapons were gone.

“I wish you wouldn't.” Seneca's voice was soft, persuasive. “He does want to help. We need him if we're going to rid you of the curse.”

He sat up straighter. Hot anger sparked through him. “No, we don't, because Sandra told me the book is here. It's in Berner somewhere and I'll rip this town to pieces if I have to. Dochi will help me find it.”

The dream or vision or whatever it had been was already fading. She hadn't given him a single clue about where to find the book.

“Dochi helps,” the minion said. “Whatever Master Tell asks of him.”

“You're glowing.” Wystan pointed the knife at Tell. “You better settle down.”

“I have some right to be upset. I've been through a lot the last few days.” Heat throbbed in his fingertips as he shot to his feet. “And since this is my house, if I want to burn it to the ground, I guess I can.”

“Tell, don't.” Eban held up his hands. “We want to help.”

“I'm about tired of people saying that.” His fingers exploded with fire. “It's time for the three of you to—”

“Tell!” Sylvie pushed the door open. “This is your family. What are you doing?”

The flames flickered and shrank. “You're supposed to be at home.”

“It looks like it's a good thing I'm not.” She stepped inside and closed the door. “What's going on?”

Seneca's mouth opened, then closed.

“What?” Tired of drawing stares, Tell glowered at his father.

“She made you calm.”

“I don't want to hurt Sylvie. As for the rest of you…” He shrugged. “What of it?”

“Your mother had a similar effect on me. When she was around, I didn't feel as though I needed to destroy everything in sight.” Seneca shook his head. “Being with her made my powers weaker. She kept me…happy.”

“What?” Tell snorted. “You're saying Sylvie is some kind of demon-power snuffer?”

Seneca's brow furrowed. “Your
own
demon-power snuffer, if you like that phrase. I'd guess she doesn't have that effect on your brothers.”

“Why?” Sylvie asked. “Why would I be able to block Tell's powers?”

“Dare I say love?” Seneca's face opened with a smile. “Love is the most powerful force on earth.”

Her face turned lobster red.

“What?” Wystan's grip slackened and his knife landed, point first, in one of the floorboards. “She's not in love with Tell.”

“Who gave you the right to decide who Sylvie can love?” Tell demanded.

“Both of you shut up.” Sylvie stepped between them. “Of course I love him. He's my best friend. I grew up in his shadow. It doesn't mean…
that.
”

Eban cleared his throat. “This is good news. As long as Sylvie is with him, he's less likely to blow up and murder all of us. The solution is keeping them together.”

“In a circle?” She cringed.

Tell shook his head. “We're not binding ourselves into a circle. This is ridiculous. You're all guessing. None of you can prove any of this.”

“You can't disprove it,” Seneca said.

Wystan tucked his knife away. “No, I don't like it. Rhia's not going to let her baby sister stay with Tell day in and day out. It's not right. I promised my wife Sylvie would be safe in this town and I aim to keep that promise.”

“I'm not afraid, Wys.” She met Tell's gaze. “I said I'd do anything to help him. I meant it.”

“Do you feel calmer with Sylvie at your side, son?” Seneca rested his hand on Tell's shoulder. “Be honest.”

He should lie and let Wys take her home. Tell swallowed. “Yes.”

“Nebo wishes to continue to search for a solution. We have no idea what we're facing here, but if we can suppress Tell's powers and protect him from demons who wish to steal those powers, the right thing to do is let Sylvie stay with him.” Seneca looked at Wystan. “I understand your concerns, truly, but this is for the good of Berner and everyone here.”

“Rhia's going to kill me.” Wystan hung his head. “There's no room for an extra person at the house.”

“Mine either,” Eban said. “It's not safe there anyhow. What if someone comes looking for Tell while the kids are home? I'm all for protecting him, but I think he needs to be hidden in a place no one would think to look.”

Sylvie curled her hand around Tell's. “We'll stay in the rooms above my shop. I'd already live there if it wasn't for Rhia insisting a young single woman shouldn't live alone.”

“I can't ask you to do this.” Guilt pounded at Tell. “People are gonna talk. They'll think you're a floozy and hate me for making you one.”

“I don't care. I'm worried about you.” Her glasses made her eyes seem bigger. “Let me do this.”

Tell rubbed his forehead. “What if we're wrong and Sylvie has nothing to do with why I can't get all fired up? If I hurt her?”

Wystan's face was grim. “Simple. I'll kill you if I can keep Rhia from it first.”

Death might not be the worst thing he'd faced. Tell nodded. “Fine, but you do it. I imagine Rhia could come up with a few creative ways to torture me before she lets me slip from the mortal coil.”

“Doesn't even read and he quotes Shakespeare. Demonic, I tell you.” Eban flashed a smile. “I'll send Beryl Rhia's way. She's not going to take this well. I have pity for you, little brother.”

“Don't pity me. You're asking a lot of Sylvie.” He sank down on the bed again. “Poor girl will be ruined before the day is out. I've already made her former fiancé lose his mind. What do you think will happen to her?”

“Nonsense. I've known you so long that if I was going to come out the other side crazy, I'd already be there. Come on, let's get you to the shop. Everything will work out. I have all that sewing to do and you need more rest.” Sylvie tucked her hand under his arm. “You know you'd do the same for me no matter what anyone thought.”

No sense denying it. Still, who would take care of her if he turned into a full demon?

“Dochi will care for both of you, Master.” The minion grasped his pant leg and a handful of Sylvie's skirt. They popped out of his house and into the dark upstairs of Sylvie's shop.

* * * * *

Sylvie lit a lamp and placed it on a crate in the corner. “It's not much. I hardly ever come up here.” A glimmer beside the box caught her eye. “Oh, scissors. I was looking for those last week. I might need them up here now.”

“We gonna sleep on the floor?” Tell pushed the toe of his boot through the dust. “I hope someone thinks to bring us blankets.”

She rolled her eyes. “It's meant to be lived in. I thought of that when I picked this shop, but Rhia wouldn't hear of it then. I have a whole chest full of blankets and things if Wys can convince Rhia to bring them. It's not going to be an uncomfortable experience. A little boring for you, maybe. You might have to take up reading after all.”

Tell's eyes lit up. “Dochi, those books I asked you to fetch?”

“Of course, Master.” The imp disappeared.

“I do have some reading to catch up on.” The words were no sooner out of his mouth than Dochi reappeared with a towering stack of books. The spines were tattered and moldy. Ancient texts—or old copies—that hadn't seen the light of day in years.

“What is all this?”

“Any text Dochi could find containing information about name curses. Set 'em down anywhere, Dochi. We've got a bit of housecleaning to do before I can start in.”

“Yes, Master.” Dochi grunted as he dropped the books. “I will help.”

“'Course you will. I suppose you can turn yourself into an abbeylubber at will.”

Sylvie pinched her lips together. “Quit pestering him. He'll be useful.”

“You're saying I won't.” Tell put his hands on his hips.

“I've seen your idea of a clean house. I'm not impressed.”

“And I've seen your shop when it looked like a storm hit it. Material and thread everywhere. It's scary as hell.”

Sylvie gritted her teeth and counted to ten. “Tell, we've been alone for five minutes and we're already arguing. Let's calm down and try to see eye to eye on this.”

“Dochi's not a pet. We're not a family. We're not playing house here, Princess, no matter how cozy things are going to get.” His face flushed red. “Father might think this is the best idea, but it's not going to hold. The demon will break free and when it does, bye-bye Berner.”

Her stomach flipped. “Listen to yourself. That's not the attitude of the man I know. You've always seen the best in a bad situation. Don't let the demon tell you what it wants you to believe.”

His shoulders dropped. “Shit, Sylvie.”

Crying had never solved any problems for her, but the urge to give in hit her. Poor Tell, so lost and confused when he was used to being in charge of his destiny. Of course it made him cranky. Putting up with him in this mood wouldn't be easy, but he'd tolerated her when she was upset too.