Arc 2 Page 9

  “Are those fine too?” Jude asked with growing actual concern. Tension tightened his stomach, mixed anxiety and excitement. Certainty. This was confirmation. Not a good confirmation, exactly, but it was always better to know what he was dealing with. When had vampires become a preferable enemy to unknowns?

  “I—it’s—” Sanguine stammered, going paler, even under the layer of dirt on his face. He backed up one shaky step, then another.

  Behind him, Eva must have collected as much dirt as she thought they needed, because she quietly got up and hustled to the edge of the circles again, slipping behind another stone. That was it, they were done, they could go—except no, Jude realized. No, they couldn’t.

  “Listen,” Jude said urgently, and Sanguine’s eyes fixed on him. “Listen to me. I know what I’m looking at. I know what you’ve been through—”

  “No, you really don’t!” Sanguine hissed, and now there was an edge of desperation in his voice. “You can actually run, so run! Do you know how lucky you are to have that chance? Not everybody has it!”

  Sanguine was panting like he’d just sprinted an uncomfortable distance. Whatever color had once been in his thin cheeks disappeared. But he still wasn’t bolting, so Jude tried one more time.

  “If you’re in some kind of trouble, you can—”

  “Ha!” Sanguine scoffed, a harsh bark that sounded like it hurt his already raspy throat. It seemed to jar him back into motion, dissipating whatever strange spell had fallen over him to root him to the ground and shake him into silence. “I can talk to you, is that what you were gonna say? You want me to tell you all my worries? Cause cops are our friends, right, even fake cops? Fuck you.”

  “I’m not a—never mind.” It didn’t matter how much he’d hated his job, or that he’d just quit, he’d still worn the uniform and that spoke for itself. Especially to scared, obviously-homeless and abused young people who had every reason to fear anyone who wore one.

  “Right, that’s why I said fake cop,” Sanguine said with a curl of his chapped lips, but his nervous eyes darted away, obviously looking for escape routes. “Now stay away from me, and stay away from this place,” he said at last, but his voice held none of its previous fire, and none of its strength. Jude wasn’t sure if he sounded more scared or tired. “I’m warning you. I don’t want you to get—just fucking stay away. It’s better that way. For everyone.”

  “Not for you. I know you’re dealing with vampires,” Jude blurted again, handling his desperation by laying everything out on the table. No sense holding back now. Sanguine was watching him carefully again, with no hostility or scorn. There was, however, light in his eyes that just barely began to resemble fragile, tentative hope. “I know you’re under one’s control, or something like it. I know a few, good and bad, and we helped some friends of mine escape that life. They’re safe now. I think we can help you too.”

  “No,” Sanguine said, but Jude hadn’t missed his hesitation. He slowly shook his head as he stepped backwards. “No, you have no idea wh—aaaagh!”

  Sanguine lurched backwards, scream ringing through the quiet clearing. Eva had almost, almost made it silently back to Jude, but then come out from around exactly the wrong stone. Before she or Jude could react, Sanguine collided with her, jumping as if electrified, windmilling and obviously about to fall over completely.

  “Gotcha,” she said as she caught him with one arm, using the other one to fling the jar full of precious dirt at Jude, who just barely managed to catch it instead of letting it crash to the ground and render this entire exercise pointless.

  “Get off me!” Sanguine snarled, immediately pulling away from her and putting his forearms between the two of them and his head, giving Jude an even better view of the unmistakable bite marks.

  “You’re welcome,” Eva grumbled, backing off and sticking her hands in her pockets. “And Jude’s telling the truth, you know. Fake cop or not, he really does want to help you… for some reason. So I guess I do too.”

  Sanguine stared at them, unblinking, for a few seconds. He held so still Jude wasn’t sure if he was breathing. Jude watched that same light—an openness that made him look painfully young—linger in his eyes. Then, devastatingly quickly, he watched it disappear.

  “You can’t,” Sanguine whispered.

  Even as all traces of hope faded from his face, his lips curled up in a smile much different from his usual sneer. It was the kind of smiling mask you wore when you laughed to keep from crying, with eyes that had looked into the future and seen no way out, no hope left in the whole world, and nothing left to smile about at all. Brittle. Hollow. Jude thought of Milo’s practiced retail smile, and Eva’s patient corporate voice. He also thought it might be the saddest thing he’d ever seen.

  “Believe me… there is nothing you can do.”

  This time, when he turned, Jude said nothing to stop him. Neither did Eva. Sanguine took one step, then another, and soon he was running like he was being chased by the hounds of Hell, or some other horror Jude had known existed, but had been so unprepared to see with his own eyes. Soon he was gone, but the blood and grievous scars on Sanguine’s arm stayed horribly clear in his head the way Latin words forever lived on his tongue.

  “Well, that was fun,” Eva groused, once they were alone again. “At least I got the dirt. You’re welcome.”

  “Did you see his arms? And neck?” Jude asked, still watching the trees into which Sanguine had disappeared.

  “What? No, I was paying more attention to what we came here for,” Eva said, still sounding cranky and flustered. “What was it, track marks?”

  “Why, would that make it any better?” Jude said, unintentionally bitterly, but standing by his tone after the words were out. “Would he deserve our help less if they were?”

  “No, but it’d be an explanation,” she said evenly, looking him directly in the eye. “And I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I like it better than the alternative, because addiction is at least a known evil, not… what we’re dealing with every night, with no instruction manual. So what do you think it was?”

  Jude hesitated, then spoke quietly. “Looked like bites.”

  Eva’s eyebrows crept up toward her hairline. “Like bite-bites, or…?”

  Jude thought for another second. Everything had happened so fast, maybe he had been mistaken. Maybe the scars and blood had a purely mundane reason. Occam’s Razor said it was vampires, but really, nothing the kid had said or done couldn’t be explained by simple desperation and late-stage Capitalism.

  “I don’t know,” he said at last, thoughts still somewhere other than the stone circle. He just didn’t know where—where could anyone living on the streets or under a vampire’s thumb go? Did such a safe place exist? “I’d need a better look.”

  “I doubt he’ll give you much of a chance. I know it’s hard to accept, but you can’t help someone who doesn’t want it. Might as well try to let it go,” Eva said, turning to leave, then stopping, letting out a short exclamation of surprise. “Hey! Look at this!”

  “What?” Jude asked, shaking himself all the way out of his reverie and looking over to see her carefully peeling one of the pieces of paper off the stones.

  “Look. Have you seen this boy?” she held out the flyer, and Jude could see now that it was a missing poster, this one with the picture and name legible.

  He had indeed seen the boy in the picture, though now with the addition of gray skin, even pointier ears, and just-as-pointed teeth. Still, there was no mistaking the hair, or the happy, round-cheeked smile and laugh he could practically hear in his head. There was a phone number at the bottom, and in thick block letters: CALL NATALIE.

  Jude took the paper from her as his head spun. He recognized the name, and he would recognize the boy in the picture anywhere, but seeing him like this was wrong, surreal. Once again, he felt as if all this was a particularly stressful dream.

  “It’s Pixie.”

  With the afternoon turning into evening and t
heir work together done, Jude and Eva went their separate ways to continue the work apart. Sunset Towers might not be the fanciest place around, but it was a warm, bright place to escape everything that came with nightfall.

  Eva was also grateful for Letizia’s door opening automatically at her approach, already exhausted as she stepped over the threshold with the jar of dirt that had been so troublesome to obtain.

  Inside, Letizia didn’t look up, seeming completely absorbed in preparing for her spell. That preparation apparently involved reading passages from very old books then double- and triple-checking them against her own nearly-illegibly scrawled notes. Eva sank down onto a chair, set the jar on the floor, and took the opportunity to relax. Everything would start back up soon enough.

  Nails and Maestra had emerged from their room, but it didn’t look like they were helping much. Both girls seemed a lot more interested in looking all around Letizia’s apartment, marveling over couches and the microwave that had probably never been used.

  “Put those back,” Letizia said finally, tearing her eyes away from the latest book and looking over at the girls, who were still busily poking through the apartment. Nails had found a shiny crystal pendulum on a gold chain, and Maestra held a brightly painted Venetian mask in front of her face. “A pair of magpies, the both of you.”

  “Sorry,” Maestra said, returning the mask carefully to its place. “It’s just that everything feels new, you know? Like I know we live here, but everything’s clearer now, even normal stuff just feels so exciting!”

  “That’s it, exactly,” Nails agreed. “It’s like everything else was some kind of hazy dream-type thing, and now we’re awake, and I swear colors look brighter, and stuff tastes better, everything’s amazing and I can’t stop messing with everything! I’m not even sorry, it’s just too cool!”

  “Yes, that’ll last for a while most likely,” Letizia said, not bothering to hide her smile anymore. “The thrill of being freed from a bad sire really is like a fog lifting. The world is new, and I don’t blame you for falling in love with it. Just perhaps do that elsewhere.”

  “Kinda sounds like you’re trying to get rid of us,” Nails muttered, but didn’t look bothered at the thought.

  “I am trying to keep you at a safe distance while I work powerful magic, yes,” Letizia confirmed. “And you need to rest. You going and having a lovely evening works out nicely for all of us.”

  “Okay,” Maestra said, though she didn’t look entirely convinced. “But we’re here if you need us.”

  “I know. But right now, all you two need to worry about is getting re-acquainted with your wild, enchanting, real lives. Remember who you are and what you want, and the things you’ve forgotten will come back in time. If they don’t, consider them better off lost.”

  “You’re really not gonna tell us what the spell you’re casting is for?” Nails didn’t bother to hide her disappointed frown. “We’re not kids, you know, I know we’re gonna look seventeen forever, but we’re old enough to yell at whippersnappers to get off our lawns—”

  “Go,” Letizia said firmly, but without any real edge. She smiled a bit instead and the understated, wry expression made her look more like herself than Eva had yet seen today. “Explore, jog your memories—engage in some petty vandalism, or whatever kids are doing for fun these days. Just remember to document it! And don’t go near the circle!”

  “We weren’t gonna,” Nails said, and Eva didn’t come close to believing her.

  “I mean it,” Letizia said. “That place is dangerous, and I know you’ll want to see the place Cruce met his well-deserved end, but you have no business being there now. Go celebrate somewhere else.”

  The girls exchanged a look. One minute, they were looking at each other with growing smiles. The next, they were gone—and two bats flapped wildly away, disappearing in a flurry of wings.

  “I’m never going to get used to that,” she said, but Letizia didn’t reply. When Eva looked over, she saw her friend absorbed in a new task—laying an empty mirror frame on the floor, as well as a pile of shining glass shards.

  “Trying to undo seven years of bad luck?” Eva asked, moving to get a better look. She could swear that mirror hadn’t been there a second ago.

  “Try a hundred and fifty,” Letizia answered, sounding distant, though the corner of her mouth curled up in a wry expression.

  She started carefully picking up and placing the broken mirror shards into the frame, and somehow they fit together so well and closely that the cracks between them were barely visible. It was almost as if the mirror was fusing into one piece of glass as she filled in the pieces like a puzzle.

  Letizia held something else in one hand, first close to her chest, then holding it up so she could look at it. Something about her face and the delicate way she balanced the object was reverent, like she was holding something sacred, a treasure beyond compare. Her lips moved rapidly, but Eva couldn’t hear what she was saying, and doubted she was saying it to anyone in this room.

  Eva took a cautious step closer until she could see better what it was the Witch held with so much awe. It didn’t look like anything especially valuable to her; it was an oblong, straight shape, like a branch—or a bone. A small bone, maybe part of a finger, worn smooth over time and perhaps much more handling. As the strange realization hit home, Eva had another one; on the floor beside Letizia was a small pile of what could only be more bones, which, like the mirror, definitely hadn’t been there before. Delicate bits like fingers, curved shapes like ribs, and a round-edged chunk that looked almost like…

  “Can I ask what the bones are for?” Eva managed to keep her tone relatively conversational and free of anxiety—which didn’t at all reflect how she was actually feeling. Was that part of a hip bone? A pelvis? It looked shattered, but the pieces might fit together like a puzzle, like the shards of shattered mirror. “Actually, I am asking. What are the bones for?”

  “They’ll help the mirror—closer to ‘window’ by the time I’m done—find what I seek,” Letizia said, and she sounded more grounded and confident now. Maybe her presence really was helping in more ways than it seemed. “These pieces are… connected, to the stone circle, and the energy I need. A point of contact. I’ve been looking for them for a long time, and I’ve collected a lot. Except for their skull,” she murmured, and it sounded more like an afterthought to herself than talking to Eva.

  “Those are human bones, aren’t they?” Eva asked, not sure she’d quite understood any of those words, at least not in that order.

  Somehow, even being acquainted with vampires and witches, all that had seemed separate from actual death, true mortality. More brutal and realistic than a Halloween story, but not one that carried the weight of life and death. Jude had seen more of this, she thought, down in the caves under the mall, the viscerally frightening reality of their strange new world. Until now, Eva had been mostly spared.

  “Yes,” Letizia said, a little dreamily. “They’ll act like a magnet. They and the stone circle share the same frequency; they still hold the imprint of the circle’s magic. These pieces will be crucial when it comes to tapping into the circle and siphoning off the energy released. It’ll stop the ritual from going as planned.”

  “Ritual…?” Eva said nervously, feeling a bit disoriented; the floor beneath her was no longer as steady as it had been, as solid.

  “Wicked Gold is busy preparing for his own spell right now too. A race between us, I suppose, until the opportune time. The next full moon. And a sacrifice. Not yours, or anyone else’s here,” Letizia said quickly, but it still didn’t do much to quell Eva’s alarm. “And not mine.”

  “Then whose…?” Eva let the question hang, as if by leaving it unfinished she could somehow secure a less-terrifying answer.

  “It’s what he was trying to do with Cruce and failed. For several reasons, his timing only one of them,” Letizia explained, blatantly sidestepping the question. She spoke matter-of-factly, like she was describing a
rival employee’s work habits. “He must not have had all the details before, but now, I have the feeling that he’s going to take the opportunity to get rid of another of his enemies. Two birds, one stone, you know. And I’m more than happy to let my enemies destroy one another, which is why I’m not rushing to stop him from performing this ritual at all. But, failing that, he has no shortage of brainwashed humans at his disposal. Surely one of them will be willing.”

  “If he’s controlling them, it doesn’t sound like they have much of a choice.” Eva suppressed a shiver.

  “Maybe not, but that’s the core of the spell. The sacrifice has to be willing, or else it means nothing. Coercion has no power here. The only power comes from consent and personal intention.”

  “‘Wiling’ sounds like an extremely relative term here,” Eva said, voice hardening. “You don’t need a magic spell to coerce someone into doing things they don’t want. Someone sacrificing themself for this guy—even if they think they’re doing it of their own free will, nah, no, it doesn’t work that way.”

  “I’ve thought of that as well,” Letizia said. “And I agree. The circle agrees—it would not accept anything but true, wholehearted consent.”

  “You know that for a fact?” Eva asked, suddenly feeling a bit lightheaded, and planting her feet more firmly on the floor to keep her brain from floating away entirely.

  “I do,” Letizia said quickly, then hesitated. “I know the witch who cast the initial spell to empower the stones. They would never have done otherwise.”

  “I still don’t like this.” Eva shook her head. “Even if he gets a totally willing sacrifice, that doesn’t mean it’s right.”

  “I know,” Letizia said. “I’ve thought of that as well. And I don’t know exactly how he’s going to accomplish this. But that’s not the biggest question, or the most important part of this. The real goal is the ritual itself, the magic. I want to save Wicked Gold’s victims just as much as you do—maybe more, since I’ve seen so intimately what he’s capable of. But I want to keep a very dangerous power out of his hands even more. It’s a terrible thing, but there it is. Believe me, I would not be considering this if there were any other way.”