What Doesn't Kill You (11 page)

Rage and grief had her surging forward. James let out a shocked cry and dropped his jacket, tripping as he avoided the flashing blade. He caught his balance and kept retreating.

“No more.” Claire stalked him. “No one else is going to die because of that bloody damn deck.”

“You can’t—”

“I can.” She punched his already broken nose, and he went down. “I will.”

Whirling, she ran for the deck, knife raised to stab it.

Brilliant pain sliced into her left side.

She gasped, stumbling, her knees giving out under her. She lifted her head, saw James, and the cross in his hands—an iron cross, the base sharp as a knife.
Where—I didn’t sense it—I should have—

His jacket. The one she saw cradling Zach’s head.

Gripping the knife, she managed to get her legs under her, barely able to breathe for the pain. James hovered over her, lifting the bloody cross.

“I win.” He smiled, blood staining his teeth. “I always win.”

She stood, her left side screaming at her. “No, James. The deck wins—just as it always has.”

“You’re wrong. I control it. I was meant to, from the first moment I saw it.” He pointed the sharp base of the cross at her. It took all her control not to flinch away from the iron. With her injuries, just the proximity burned. “My aunt kept me under her thumb, stringing me along with promises and platitudes. The deck’s power gave us both a long life. Until I strangled her in her sleep.”

His smile widened, sent a chill through her. Somewhere along the way, he had traded near- immortality for sanity. Claire kept him talking, kept him distracted, so he didn’t notice that his frenetic pacing kept moving him closer to the edge of the cliff. “How many other people have you killed, James?”

“It was the cards!” He actually pouted. “They need the life force. I am just the conduit. Can’t you see that? But with your power, I can finally take control, make the cards work for me. After so many years of being the slave, I will be the master. I
am
the master.”

He twirled the cross, her blood splashing over his face. Sputtering, he wiped at it, choking and cursing. Claire took advantage and whirled, stabbing the knife down. Straight into the heart of the deck.

“NO!”

Fire burst out of the cards. Claire recoiled, covering her face, and ran into James.

He spun her around, fury twisting his face, and swung the cross at her. She let the iron connect, the fury and pain fueling her. With a horrible sense of déjà vu, the sharp base of the cross drove deep into her side as she shoved them both toward the edge of the cliff.

*

“
M
om—” Zach choked back the pain that ripped across his right side as he tried to stand. “Mom, no—”

She fell off the cliff. Taking James with her.

He crawled across the grass, caught the cliff edge and used it to pull himself forward. Simon was gone—he couldn’t lose her, too—not now—

“Claire!”

Eric’s shout told him help had finally arrived. He kept moving, pulling himself closer so he could look over the edge. She was gone, his mind already knew that, but he had to know for sure.

Strong hands caught his ankle, kept him from going over after her. Part of him wanted to—this was his fault, he took the card, he put them in this spot by following them, being stupid enough to let himself be taken—

“Zach?”

The wind-whipped voice stopped his heart. Grabbing the edge of the cliff, he peered over the side.

Mom hung on to a protruding ledge, clinging like a monkey. Cold wind beat at her, trying to tear her off. His heart stuttered, started pounding again so hard it hurt his chest. Fresh blood heated his skin.

“Hang on, Mom—” He reached down with his left hand, stretching out his fingers. The tips just brushed her shoulder. His side hurt so bad he could hardly breathe, but he wasn’t going to let her die. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself. “Can you take my hand?”

“Zach—”

“Don’t argue. We can argue later. Take my hand.”

Her eyes widened, silver almost swallowing the blue. Zach expected her to snap his head off, with the demon so clearly close to the surface. Instead she calmly reached up and caught his hand, her fingers shaking so much she had a hard time gripping him. The pressure of her added weight had his wound screaming in protest.

“Now climb over me. Use me—like a ladder.” He had trouble catching his breath.

“I don’t—”

“Do it, Mom.”

She obeyed, twisting her fingers into the sleeve of his shirt. Her free hand gripped the ledge, and Zach watched her feet find a hold on the narrow edge of rock. Black spots danced in front of him. He blinked, focused on her.

Slowly, inch by excruciating inch, she made her way up, gasping every time she moved her left arm. She paused, swallowing as she reached down to the cross sticking out of her side. With a choked scream she grabbed it and yanked it free. Zach watched it bounce down the side of the cliff, landing blade down at the head of the still figure sprawled on the sand.

“God, that hurt.” She swung her now blistered hand up, caught the cliff face just below his head. “I’m good, Zach. Tell them to pull you up.”

“Not—without you.” He closed his eyes as another wave of pain threatened to drag him under.

Mom cursed as she let go of his arm and climbed up next to him, using the sharp, random outcroppings like a ladder. Zach filed the more creative swear words away for later. This close he saw the toll the iron took on her, and her hands shaking on the rock.

“Mom—”

“Take my hand, Claire,” Eric said. He stretched out next to Zach, reaching down to her.

“Careful.” Zach gasped, the effort of staying conscious catching up with him. “She’s hurt.”

“I see it. I know you’re there, Annie. Don’t you even think about helping me. Back away. I’ll bring her to you.”

Good as his word, Eric yanked Mom up and over the top of the cliff, both of them landing in the grass. The hands that had held Zach, kept him from tumbling over, pulled him up and turned him on his back.

Marcus leaned over him. “Not the smartest move. Thank you.” Jade green eyes met his, gold swirling in their depths. “Now it is time to take care of you.”

A whirlwind of sand surrounded them, gold light flashing through the mini storm. Zach expected a face full of sand. Instead, it brushed over his skin, gathering around his injury, warmth spreading through him, sucking away the pain.

The mini storm blew itself out. Zach took in a breath, surprised that it barely hurt.

“I only healed you enough to close the wound, so keep still. I am going to take care of your mom.”

He moved to her side, lowered his head. A second whirlwind surrounded them. Inside it, Marcus held Mom in his arms. Zach swallowed, struck by the anguish on his face, and his obvious love for her.

She opened her eyes, and the dread fisting his gut loosened.

Eric held on to Annie, whispering to her as she cried. Zach closed his eyes, fought back his own tears. He felt used up, and if Mom didn’t pull through—he couldn’t even finish that thought in his head.

“Hey, punk.” He looked at Annie. Somehow she got over here without a sound. “Don’t even say it. I haven’t lost
all
my ninja abilities.” She helped him sit, cradled the back of his head, the concern in her eyes lodging tears in his throat. “How are you?”

“Okay,” he whispered. His voice came out raw, and as ragged as he felt.

“Come here.” She held out her hand, and before his mind could tell him to man up, he curled into her embrace, needing the comfort, the warmth she always gave him. No matter how much he pissed her off. “She’ll be okay, Zach. We’ll do whatever it takes to make sure of that, for both of you.”

“Simon—”

“I know.” Annie closed her eyes, tears slipping down her face. “He was already—gone.”

“He saved Mom. The deck—” He tried to stand. His side screamed at him. Not as loudly as before, but enough that he knew he still had some recuperating ahead of him.

“Gone.” Annie glanced over at the knife, still sticking out of the ground. A pile of ash surrounded the blade, bits of gold spread through the grey. Power wrapped around the knife. It looked—stronger. Zach knew they would have to take care of it, find a nice, permanent warded box for it. “That’s the knife—”

“He used on me? Yeah. That was his mistake. If he hadn’t stabbed me with it, I never would have figured out it could destroy the deck. Do you think—” He forced it out, needing to know he wasn’t the only one holding on to hope. “Will Mom be okay?”

Annie sighed, tightened her embrace. “I think so. She’s got a soul now, and that counts for something. With the deck gone, we can lead her back to normal.”

“Annie.” She looked at him, the same fear that twisted through him in her eyes. “She’s never going to be normal again, is she?”

Annie let out a sigh. “No, sweetheart. But we’ll get her as close as we can.”

TEN

T
hey took Simon home.

The priest who had replaced him helped Marcus move his body into the rectory, asking no questions. He simply shook Marcus’ hand, thanked him, and consoled the parishioners who gathered around, tears and shock on their faces. Marcus was thankful for the quiet acceptance. He knew there would be questions, but the priest assured him they could wait, until Simon had been put to rest. He belonged to the Church, and the Church would take care of him.

The next stop was for Claire.

Marcus carried her inside and settled her on to the bed, letting Eric and Annie deal with Zach.

He held her right hand, sitting on the side of the bed. She was unconscious, her body so cold he had to keep checking her breath to assure himself she still lived. She beat the monster, but it may have cost her everything.

Annie joined him. Seated in a chair on the opposite side of the bed, she rubbed Claire’s bare arm, her touch continuous, and gentle. She had cried on the cliff, but now she kept watch over Claire, brown eyes fierce and angry.

She looked up, and he finally spoke. “How is Zach?”

“Resting. He’ll heal, thanks to you.”

His quick thinking was the only reason Claire survived. She would not have been able to hold on to the ledge for long, not with two inches of iron buried in her side. Marcus pulled out the worst of the poison, but he could not heal what the tainted power of the deck had drawn out of her—the demon they thought long vanquished.

As if he heard, Zach’s quiet voice filtered into the room.

“Will she—” He stood in the doorway, left hand clutching the frame. Marcus saw the gleam of tears before Zach looked away. “Will she be okay?”

“Because of you, we will have the chance to find out.”

Annie pushed herself out of the chair. “You should be in bed.”

“I had to make sure . . .” His voice faded, and he lowered his head.

 Annie moved to him and cupped his chin, lifting until he met her eyes. “You saved her life. Now she knows how much you care. That’s going to help. And thank you,” she pulled him forward and kissed him on the cheek, much to his mortification. “For saving her, and not getting dead doing it.”

Zach let out a watery laugh, wiping at his face. “I just didn’t want her to fall. I wasn’t thinking about me falling. Until now.”

Annie patted his cheek. “You’re welcome.”

“Stop teasing him, Annie.” Claire’s faint voice had all of them leaning forward. Marcus checked her pulse, took her free hand. “Hey,” she whispered. “Looks like I made it.”

“By too narrow a margin.” Marcus kissed her forehead, relieved by the hint of warmth under her skin. “Don’t you ever dare such a ridiculous stunt again, do you understand?” He cradled her cheek. “I almost lost you, sweet.”

“You lost part of me, when the demon—”

“No.” Zach’s quiet, angry denial cut her off. “You’re still you, Mom.”

Claire closed her eyes, tears slipping free. “Thank you, sweetheart. And thank you for bringing me home.” She took in a ragged breath, looked at Marcus. “We need to bury Simon.”

“Claire, the priest at his church has already—”

“No. We are his family. And he was the closest to a brother I will ever have. I want to do this for him. To say goodbye—”

“We’ll take care of it, honey.” Annie brushed hair off her forehead, tears edging her voice. “You rest, let me do this for you. For Simon.”

“Where is he?”

Marcus let out a sigh, knowing she would not let go until she was satisfied. “The church rectory. The priest there promised to work out the details. He asked no questions, and said he would look after Simon.”

Claire nodded, squeezing his hand. “I need to take care of a couple of things, but I want to bury him as soon as we can.”

“I will contact the priest.”

“Where is Eric?”

Annie pushed wild curls off her forehead, taking a sudden interest in the bed linens. “He—he’s getting rid of what’s left of the deck. And—killing the card we had.”

“No—” Claire tried to sit. All three of them moved at the same time, but she dropped back to the bed, her face white. “God above, I hurt everywhere.” She swallowed, focused on Annie. “Tell me.”

“He seems to be the least affected by the cards, when compared to the rest of us. And I won’t get any sleep until that last card joins the others, and the ashes are buried in a giant container of salt.”

“Thorough.”

“I thought so.” Annie smiled when Zach snorted. “You would have done the same, if you hadn’t just fought a greedy bastard and tried to jump off a cliff. Again.”

“Won’t go for a third try. Promise.”

“You better not. My heart won’t take it.”

“The knife,” Claire said. “What are we going to do with—”

“Bury it,” Zach said, his voice cold. “In a box so covered in wards it will be invisible.”

Claire nodded. “Very thorough.”

“Zach’s idea,” Annie said. She leaned in and kissed Claire’s cheek. “On that note, we’re going to leave you two alone. I’m hungry,” she cut off Zach’s protest with a glance. “And I’m seriously craving a juicy roast beef sandwich.”