Soul Shock, page 31
I turned to see her outline within the shadows of the smoke. “This isn’t over,” I told her, “You still have a long way to go to the equinox.”
“Hehe.” A dark chuckle answered me. “I’m sure you have many other friends that need Joy in their hearts after the misery you inflict on them.”
“Shut up!” I snapped, not having anything else to offer. I limped away, clutching my bloody stomach.
It took a full half-hour for the cut to heal, while I hunched in a bus shelter on the other side of Fremont Street. Only dark thoughts kept me company; no one braved my misery. One more night and she’d claim it, too, a main artery of the city’s east side.
44
I walked home. I’d told myself I’d shift once the cut healed, but once it had, I didn’t want to. Didn’t deserve to. Wolf me would, despite our complete defeat, enjoy the run home. She’d mouth open the back door, steal up into our bedroom, curl up around Secret and absolve herself. We had protected the cub, and Joy didn’t threaten our territory yet. Cliff had made his choice months ago not to become pack.
Human me wasn’t about to let myself off the hook so easily. Every step brought new possibilities, that if I had done something differently this never would have happened. Never asked Cliff for help, or maybe it would have been better to the quit NLS. Leave Cliff and the Gifford clan alone. Luna might not have cursed his mother then, and Sophie would have found her own way to her fate. Certainly I had been too aggressive, thinking that eventually, one day, Cliff’s no would turn to yes.
Maybe if I’d done all those things, or the right one of them, he wouldn’t have had a hole for Joy to fill. If that’s how it worked at all. Could any mortal resist Joy? Were all those not gifted by some supernatural power totally at the mercy of a Fey Knight? Those damning questions weighed down every footstep as my wolf and human selves argued back and forth as the entirety of me wallowed.
I dimly noted that the kitchen had a light on as I entered the path up to the front door. Inside, the acrid scent of preservatives wrinkled my nose: Nadia. I looked into the living room first and found her there, curled up on our cracked leather couch. A blanket draped over her body and a pink pillow cradled her sleeping head.
Why would she be here? The light from the kitchen called to me and I answered it. At first I thought Rey stood at the sink washing dishes. A blink and it was only Cindy, although she wore costume fox ears and a small tail clipped to the back of her dress.
“You need a drink,” she said without looking in my direction.
“Yeah,” I admitted with a sigh.
She tapped the breakfast bar, and I bellied on up. Closer I could see the headband that held the ears, and I guessed the tail had been secured to a belt she wore beneath her robe.
“I have rum. You want it mixed or straight?” she asked, already pulling a dented shaker from a cabinet.
“If you have booze, I’ll drink it at the moment,” I told her.
We didn’t exchange another word while she mixed up a concoction that turned bright red and then settled into a rusty orange. She poured it into three long-stemmed martini glasses with a professional flourish, and pushed one across the breakfast bar at me.
“I call it the Pirate Maid Marian.”
“Foxy. Rey must appreciate that,” I said, picking up the drink and sniffing. It smelled of rum with a hint of cherry. Taking a sip, it burned harshly on my tongue and throat. I coughed.
Cindy smiled, picked up her glass, “Maid Marian probably wouldn’t make a good pirate. Cheers.” She drained half of it without flinching. “How’s Cliff?”
I took a big sip and savored that burn. “Joy has him now. I don’t know what do, Cindy. He came after me with that sword. He cut me. I went to the Dream, that was supposed to fix this. I removed her shield, and she just plucked up another one.”
Nadia’s voice came from behind me. “Go to underworld, sacrifice, get magic weapon and kill the evil. That’s how story supposed to go.”
“Tell Joy that,” I sighed, and Nadia stepped up to the bar to claim her drink.
The medical examiner tried the orange cocktail and grimaced.
“Sorry, out of vodka,” Cindy offered.
“I drink other things.” Nadia sniffed. “Most things get better as you drink more of it. This might not be like most things.” She turned to me. “So what happen between you and this Cliff?”
“I don’t understand why either of you are up or here,” I said, trying to avoid another recap of how badly this had gone down.
“I called her. Had a hunch that you’d need some support,” Cindy said.
“Is that not what this pack thing is supposed to do, yes?” Nadia asked, and I had no idea if she was being sarcastic or not. I never really considered the woman pack, but I was touched that she came. Maybe Victoria had been right about her, after all.
I laughed. “Yeah. I’m not really good at pack stuff all the time.” Then I told them about my night with Cliff.
Both Cindy and Nadia shared a glance, then laughed together as I finished.
“How is this funny?”
“Is a trick so old it’s not in book.” Nadia took a swig of her drink and nearly gagged.
“Cliff’s been trying to be a hero since he realized Fey are real. She just gave him a path to it. A path that only he could walk,” Cindy said after scowling at Nadia’s critique of her cocktail.
“That’s obvious, Cindy. How do I break him out of it?”
She frowned while Nadia answered, “You send him to war. There he learns what happen to heroes. They come back either cowards, bloodthirsty animals, or not at all.” Nadia drained her glass, and made to slam it onto the counter but stopped herself at the last moment. “Oop. Not shot, only taste like it.” She winked at Cindy, who rolled her eyes.
It sounded like a tragic story lurked behind Nadia’s solution, one I didn’t need to delve into yet. “I need a better solution than that,” I said, looking to Cindy. “You said, you couldn’t break him out of it, what would give you the power to rip apart the spell he’s under?”
“None of those cases have Joy’s direct attention. Cliff will. I’m… not precisely sure how I do it either. It’s like,” she closed her eyes and grasped at the air, “like… pulling a guitar string until it snapped. It hurt when it broke, felt as if I’d been whipped across my chest.”
“Cuz you did it wrong,” Secret peeked up over the end of the breakfast bar.
“How long have you been standing there, you sneaky little minx?” I asked her with a sigh.
“I was sleeping, but you are all very loud,” she said with a grin. “Can I have chocolate?”
“Provided you keep talking about Joy’s glamour, yes,” I said.
That dampened her enthusiasm a little, but she started speaking, “Glamour is both threads and weaves. A strand is easy to break, a bit of iron, or a shock can do it.” Sadness flashed over her face, “I can only make thin strands. Momma tried to teach me to weave, but I couldn’t do it. It’s worse than math.”
“So Joy can weave,” I stated, purposely avoiding turning it into a question.
Secret nodded. “You can’t snap a weave. Iron will wear on it, poke a hole in it, but won’t cut it. A weave has to be loosened first. A weave needs an anchor. Maybe more than one. Anchors are like… crevices but in a person. Cracks you can fit your fingers into. Unhappy spots.” Her little face squinched up as she struggled to explain. “They have to be loosened before you can rip off a woven glamour.”
“Maybe being in an ambulance and injured loosened these anchors of your patients?” I asked Cindy.
She tapped a fingernail on the counter, and one of those costume fox ears flicked. “No one’s having a fun time in an ambulance, that’s for sure.”
“I don’t know. Momma’s weaves were all around one person. Joy is weaving over areas and it… sinks into people. Catches them like a spider’s web,” Secret said.
Nadia grabbed the bottle of rum and poured it directly into her glass. “You say you can poke hole. Big weave is like a blanket over everyone. Iron, steel, wound, and ambulance weaken weave and then she rip open hole and pull them out.” She sipped the rum, wrinkled her nose in distaste, and then took a solid swallow of it.
I mused out loud. “So if the glamour isn’t anchored in individuals, then we could snatch people out from underneath it. However, that doesn’t help free Cliff. I’m betting what she’s got him under is a more individual weave. Secret how-” I cut myself off before the question could escape. I chewed on my cheek, thinking how to rephrase before trying again. “When Cliff attacked me, he screamed about how everyone wanted him to fail. His sister, his mother, and me.”
“Anchors three.” Secret nodded.
“If I explain to him, or demonstrate somehow that I don’t want him to fail. Would- I mean, maybe that would be enough to loosen the weave enough for Cindy to pull it off him.”
“Not if Joy is there,” Secret said. “She’ll twist the glamour into a new anchor. If you loosen all the anchors at once, then I can tear it. I am only a halfling, but if I had a heart, maybe I’d be strong enough.”
Both Secret and I looked toward Nadia, who frowned thoughtfully. “I have nothing fresh, but I have been experimenting with preservation techniques. If nothing suitable comes in tomorrow, then will see if any of those will do.”
Secret grinned hungrily as I leaned back with a sigh. If the anchors that we needed to loosen were centered on the women in Cliff’s life, then I’d need both Sophie’s and Gloria’s help. If Sophie came back to Portland, she’d probably help, but Gloria might be an entirely different story.
“Can I have that chocolate milk now?” Secret asked.
“Course, sweetie.” Cindy moved towards the fridge. “Hot or cold?”
“Cold, please.”
Cindy mixed up the chocolate milk and placed it in Secret’s waiting hands. She took a long gulp and licked her lips.
“Once or if you free Cliff, then what? You rip her to pieces?” Nadia asked. “What happens to those beneath her weave?”
“If it were a full moon, I’d certainly try. Heck, any moon other than the new. Cliff might be able to do it, but I’m not sure he’ll be able to kill her.” I thought for a moment and something Renata had said came back to me. She detests her own suffering. Huh, maybe there was something useful there.
“Hey, Cindy, how is the city perceiving the area Joy controls?” I asked.
“It’s still functional. I’ve been in there every other day or so. There’s a lot of car accidents, and accidents in general. We’ve been calling all the distracted folks dazers. It’s not everybody in there, but it’s definitely getting worse. And she’s probably clustering the most affected to those burned lots. Kelly’s Butte is looking pretty green now. As for the city,” she shrugged, “they’re waiting for you to deal with it?”
I groaned, while wolf me huffed. Why this our problem?
Because it is our problem, I told her, then refocused on Cindy. A plan was forming. One that had way too many moving parts. And many of those moving parts were going to rely on my Aunt and the Mayor.
Joy called me a buzz-killer. The challenge here would be making it brutally true.
45
I hadn’t intended on sleeping. Too much to do. Every hour Cliff spent under Joy’s influence increased the difficulty of getting him back. I had to find Sophie and Gloria. Call my Aunt. Look up the price of a truckload of cast iron in case everything else failed. My mind whirred with the possibilities and pitfalls. After our little kitchen conference, Nadia had departed to get a heart for Secret, Cindy had retreated to her bedroom, and I’d gone to mine. Not to sleep, just to gather my thoughts and text people. I fired off a few hurried texts to Aunt Sheryl in the hope she’d call me in the morning.
Then I made the mistake of sitting on my bed. I’d intended to write texts to Sophie, hoping her phone hadn’t come with us to the Dream. Secret swiftly stole into my lap and I put my phone down to pet her. From there, I leaned back and closed my eyes. The pillow smelled of Victoria and a pang of longing for my packmate rang through me. I’d be doing this all without her. Suddenly, everything seemed heavier. I couldn’t bring myself to open my eyes. Secret scooted up to lie on my chest and purred against me.
Next thing I knew, there was sunlight streaming through the windows, and I heard the harsh caws of the neighborhood crows squabbling over something. As Martha would say, Shiiiite. I sat up so abruptly that poor Secret got catapulted toward my toes and landed with a surprised, “Meerf!”
I apologized profusely and endured her grumpy look as I grabbed for my phone. Checking my messages brought a flood of relief. Sophie had messaged me.
“Why the fuck can I not get rid of this goddamn tail?!”
Hardly the topic we needed to address, but at least that meant I wouldn’t need to track her down over hill and vale to get her help. She agreed to meet me at Victoria’s and bring Taya with her.
I got there first, and watched Sophie’s SUV roll through the gates. I’d expected Taya’s sedan to follow after, but the sisters were carpooling. Sophie got out of the driver’s side wearing an ankle-length pleated black skirt that her tail immediately rebelled against by lifting the rear.
“Damn thing. Behave,” she muttered as she lowered the unruly appendage and smoothed the skirt.
Taya’s exit from the car was far less amusing. Moving cautiously, she lowered herself down from the seat to stand on one foot before pulling out two aluminum crutches. Once she maneuvered around the open door, I saw that a hard plastic boot encased her foot to her knee. I winced in sympathy. Apparently Taya’d had a few trials of her own while we were gone.
“Glad to see you both,” I called out. “Sophie, I was afraid you’d be staying in the woods longer, hashing things out with the mountain.”
Sophie gave up trying to get her tail to cooperate with its covering to glare at me. “I have kids, remember? I can’t go roaming the countryside on a whim.” Her eyes darted away, “No matter how strong.”
Taya approached haltingly on the crutches, her expression understandably sour, “So what’s this about Cliff?” she asked.
“We all need to talk, Gloria included, about Cliff,” I said.
Her eyes narrowed. “Cliff can go jump in a hole. I’ve barely heard from him all week. I’ve been dealing with mom myself for the last five days.” She pointed at her injured leg, “You can see how well that’s worked out.”
“I’m so sorry.” I said, “What happened?”
Her features compressed as she drew in a breath. “I was stupid. I’d been letting her out during the day and we cut it too close to sundown. She gets… really difficult about a half hour before sundown. She got my goat about my girlfriend, and I’m standing there arguing with her in the doorway of the safe and I watch her teeth sharpen. Finally, I realize what’s happening, shove her in, and slap the quick close button. She goes berserk, slams into the door and manages to get her arm under the door. She grabs my ankle. The door’s literally crushing her arm and she still won’t let go. I’m prying off fingers while they’re growing these nasty-ass claws. She’s crushing my ankle. I fall down and manage to kick her off.” Taya gave a half laugh. “She caught the back of my ankle. She ripped my hamstring out. God damn, that hurt.”
“Ouch,” I said softly, it’s not an injury I’ve personally experienced, but I’ve seen it a few times. Usually snapped at a soccer or baseball game, not ripped by monstrous mothers, though.
“I haven’t let her out since. Been raising the door a couple inches to exchange food and trash. So she hasn’t been in the best of moods, but at least she feels guilty about it. Told the emergency room that a zombie jumped me. Doc prescribed me nearly every antibiotic known to man. Come on, let’s get down there. I cannot wait for Sophie to tell mom what she’s gotta do to lift this curse.” She jammed her crutches onto the first porch step. I made way for her and opened the door to the house.
“Might be a good idea to tell her through the steel door,” Sophie said, following her sister.
“I’m guessing the webcam doesn’t work anymore?” I asked.
“Oh, hell, no.” Taya called back, not stopping her movement through the house. “She tears the place apart every night. It’s practically gutted now. That toilet in there lasted two nights.”
“Wait,” Sophie stopped and her tail lifted her skirt. “Momma’s been down there without a toilet for how many days?” she asked, grabbing her tail and awkwardly pressing it down.
Taya stopped, slowly pivoting toward Sophie, her expression drawn and angry. “Three nights including the one she clawed me. I’ve been dealing with this by myself. Cliff’s pretended that we don’t exist and you’ve been on the mountain? In the mountain? I don’t know. I’m doing the best I can, Sis! If I had been one second slower on that door, I’d be dead and she’d be loose to do whatever. Nobody was here to back me up.” A tremor crept into her voice. “So if you have any other helpful feedback, let’s hear it now. Because when we go down there and tell her what she’s got to do, we need a united front.”
Sophie, who had stared a mountain down, didn’t look into her sister’s wet, angry eyes. “I hear ya. You did what you could. We both did.”
After a shaky nod, Taya resumed leading us toward the basement. “By the way, Abby, I figured out why her monster doesn’t last the entire night.”
“Oh?” I responded warily.
“The monster, demon or whatever only changes her when neither the moon nor the sun is in the sky. There’s a couple hours difference between sunset and moonrise now. Course now with the new moon, she was raging in there all night, I think.” She opened the door to the basement and drew herself up straight. “Kay now. Sophie and I are going down to tell her the… good news about her cure. Then we’ll bring her up and you can say what you need to say to all of us. I assume it’s about Cliff.
