“And if I don’t?” I asked.
“Then people will die. People you care about. Oh, don’t look so surprised. It isn’t personal. I am doing what I must to survive, though I will enjoy it.”
He smiled. “I have orders to kill the people standing in their way. You’re standing in their way, Shame. You and . . . others I would love to see dead. And if you don’t find her, I will do more than just kill your friends. I will destroy everything you’ve ever touched. Everyone you’ve ever touched. It won’t matter that you carry Death magic. I’m the one with my finger on the trigger of the gun. And I will make your every breath a study in pain and misery.”
He glanced at his watch again. “You don’t have much time. Maybe a day. Maybe less. And you’ll have to be sharp, Shame. You will have to be much, much better than this . . . pitiful wreck you’ve become if you are going to save her. To stop me.”
His watch beeped once and he jumped just slightly. “Out of time. And so are you.” He tugged a needle out of his shirt pocket, bit the plastic cover off it, then leaned forward and stabbed me in the neck.
Oh, I was so going to kill the slimy little fucker for this.
“This is just the start of what they have to control magic users. To control people changed by magic. Enjoy the ride.”
Maybe I’d convince Terric to bring him back to life so I could kill him twice.
The room swirled like water down a toilet bowl. I watched Eli. Watched something that looked like a hole in space—a gate—open up behind him with a hard snap of electricity. Watched as he stood and was yanked backward by men in lab coats and face masks I could not see through.
Then the gate was gone. Eli was gone. And so was my mind.
Chapter 15
Flashes of images: the parking lot in darkness. Trees. Underbrush rustling with animals that fell deathly still as I passed.
Flashes of sensation: gravel cutting my feet, wind on my bare chest and back, blood on my fingers, my lips.
Flashes of sounds: forest, the river, cars. Eventually, my own breathing. Too loud. And then: voices.
First too many voices. A bar, a club, laughter, anger, lust. The rhythmic pound of music. Heat I could consume. Life I wanted and could have. If I stepped over the threshold.
Then only one life, sweet and burning in front of me: Dessa.
“Shame,” she said through my pain, around the finger-painted slide of colors and agony that made up the world. “You can’t go in there. You’re safe. Safe with me.”
The world pushed past me. Life roaring by like a thundering wave. Maybe she was still there. I didn’t know.
A scream of colors slashed me to the bone. Then everything went black.
“Don’t move.”
Was that Dessa? It sounded like her. I could smell her perfume, a burst of vanilla and sweet spices. Could feel her strong, beating heart. A singular, pure note.
“You’re going to be okay,” she said.
Felt the soft release of her hand lifted from my hip. The hushed chirp of a cell phone dialing. Footsteps retreated. And then the engine of a car rolled to life.
I was alone. Alone with my pain.
“Hey, Shame.”
Darkness parted. Light poured over me. Terric’s voice. Terric’s light.
I wanted to tell him I thought I might be really screwed up this time. That he should get far, far away from me. I wanted to tell him there was a reason for the state I was in. That someone, someone whose name I could not remember, had done something to me. But my thoughts dissolved as I tried to stack them into order and form.
This was not good.
Fear slipped between each breath I struggled to take. Fear that if I was losing my mind, the monster in me would devour every living thing. Even him.
“I got you now,” Terric’s words said, falling like soft snow around me. “You’re going to be all right.”
His hands touched me—one on my arm, one on my chest. I shuddered as that light pushed away the darkness and pain, holding the worst of it away.
“Just breathe,” he said. “I’ve got you.”
So I closed my eyes, or I hoped I did. And breathed.
Maybe we moved, maybe we stood there. Maybe this was all a dream. Terric’s words drifted around me, soothing, cooling. In them was comfort and peace.
There was no fighting it. I didn’t want to.
I breathed his words. His light wrapped me in gentle arms. And all the world disappeared.
I gasped, opened my eyes. Tried to push up onto my feet.
A hand appeared out of nowhere and pressed against my chest so hard my shoulder blades sank into the cushions at my back.
Cushions?
“Stay down,” Terric said.
“Where the hell?” I blinked, swallowed. Whatever drugs Eli had used on me left the taste of vomit in my mouth. I felt like I’d been run through a meat tenderizer. Twice.
“You’re at my house,” Terric said. “In my living room. It’s the middle of the night—”
“Two o’clock in the morning,” another man’s voice said.
“—and,” Terric continued, “you’ve been hurt. Do you understand me, Shame?”
I blinked again. The room slipped in and out of focus. Finally cleared.
Terric sat next to me in a padded chair. His hand gripped my upper arm, applying a slight pressure so I remained seated.
He wore a gray tank top and dark blue pajama bottoms. Barefoot, hair a little messy like he’d just gotten out of bed.
Middle of the night. Of course he’d been in bed. I was all about the smart right now, wasn’t I?
I tried my brain out on the rest of the room. It’d been a while since I’d been over to his house. Instead of the fine photography he usually had on display, the walls were covered in bold, ugly abstracts and a huge TV screen swallowed up the corner by the window where he used to keep his favorite reading chair. Even so, I was indeed sitting on his couch in his living room.
Standing behind him was the man I’d seen in the car with him: buzz-cut light brown hair, narrow face, and brown eyes set too wide. Jeremy.
Jeremy scowled at me, his arms crossed. He had on a black T-shirt, flannel over that, and jeans. Couldn’t see his feet, but I’d guess his shoes were on.
I could not guess whether he had just arrived or was headed out the door.
From the look on his face, I knew he and I were not friends. Not by a long shot.
No, we were enemies.
So Dessa and Dash had been right about him.
“Shame?” Terric said again. “Can you understand me?”
“Yes,” I said. Talking took more effort than it should. I didn’t think the drugs had done the last of their work on me.
“What happened?” he asked.
Jeremy scoffed. “You have to ask? He’s wasted.”
“Jeremy,” Terric said quietly, “I wasn’t talking to you.”
“He’s a waste, Terric. You want to do something for him, dump his ass in rehab.”
“He’s staying here,” Terric said.
“Fuck that. Aren’t you done with this piece of crap? After everything he’s done to you?”
“Jeremy,” Terric snarled. “Get out.”
Lots of anger in that Jeremy. I was following along, but the conversation was going by so quickly that by the time I pulled together a comment, they had moved on.
“You can’t just pretend this is normal, Terric. You can’t ignore what he is. Look at him. He’s a junkie piece of crap, baby. Win some, lose some. You lost him a long time ago. Let it go.”