THE BAZAAR (The Devany Miller Series) (14 page)

Group work magnifies their power.

"Are they that powerful? Or are you scared after what happened to Zech?" I waited, waited some more for an answer before throwing my hands in the air. "Fine. Be that way." I stomped into my bedroom and found a pair of Tom's sweats and an old t-shirt, figuring I would have to wrestle him into them but when I returned, he was awake.

Zech! Thank the Glimmerlands you are all right.

"Arsinua is glad you're okay."

He didn't look like he knew who I was and as I was about to explain he said, "Thanks. For saving me. I don't know how you did it, but thank you."

"Yeah, well, don't thank me too fast. You might not like who you owe your life to." The fleshcrawler queen and her eerie smile popped unbidden into my mind. Blood sacrifice. Ugh.

His brow furrowed, and then he pushed himself up, revealing squared shoulders and a flat belly. I looked at the ceiling and tossed him the shirt and pants, then said, "I'll let you get dressed. Holler if you need anything." And please don't need anything. I didn't want to see him naked. I might think impure thoughts and then Arsinua would be pissed and boil my brains.

'Could you do that?' I asked, in spite of myself.

Do what? He looked well. He'll live.

The relief in her voice made me feel ashamed of ogling him. 'How long were you two together?'

Thirty years.

'Excuse me? Oh, right, your time goes slower over there than ours.'

The magic stretches the time. Some creatures live longer. The fleshcrawlers, we believe, have the longest lives. But they can be killed.

"There you go, then. If you can kill a fleshcrawler, then you can kill Yarnell and his group of loonies. Not that I'm advocating killing, because I'm not. We can stop them, though. Don't you people have jails? Prisons? Some sort of justice system?" 

She didn't have time to answer, a thud and a curse interrupted. I rushed in to find him already hauling himself onto the bed, a sheepish expression on his face. He'd tried to get up and had tumbled into the nightstand. The lamp lolled against the wall and as I watched, slipped off the edge and fell to the carpet.

"I said call if you needed anything. You know, like help?" I rescued the lamp.

"I'm a guy," he said as if that explained it. "I didn't expect to be that weak. Of course, I didn't even expect to be alive so—" He looked up at me. "How did you save me?"

"Long story. Listen, I have to get to work and I want you to come with me. There's a domestic violence shelter you could stay in, until you're healed and we can get together and figure out how to keep you alive."

His face hardened. "I'm not hiding. I'm going back and challenging Yarnell before the Council."

He won't live to stand before the Council. Yarnell probably has a death warrant on him.

"Death warrant?" I asked it aloud and Zech paled. 

It's illegal but effective. It's a spell attuned to a particular magic signature. The moment the spell recognizes the signature it releases—and kills the person targeted. 

"Can you tell if one has been put out against you? Any counter spells?"

I don't know! I'm sorry, I don't. That type of magic is an anathema to our kind. Most of our kind. I don't understand it.

"If you want to defeat your enemy, you have to have at least an idea of what he's using to shoot at you with, right? So we need to do some research. Are there libraries over there?" Frustration filled me. I was an eight-year-old struggling to finish a college exam and I wasn't a child prodigy either. 

Zech had been watching me with great interest. "You're talking to her again, right?"

"Yup. She broke down, thinking you were dead."

"Ah." He looked down at his knees. Still pissed with Arsinua, I guessed. "There is a research center, open to all."

I looked at my watch. "I'm going to be late. We have to get going. We’ll talk about the research center later." I helped him off the bed and down the stairs. By that time, he was moving well enough he could stand on his own, at least. I left him leaning against the wall to get him some sandals, my purse and keys, and then we hobbled to the car.

We rode in silence. I was surprised Arsinua wasn't talking but decided to stay out of it. I had my own love life problems; I didn't need to meddle in anyone else's. Besides, how would that work if I got them back together? Would I loan my body to Arsinua when they wanted to ... my mind drifted at the possibilities until a honk behind me brought me back to reality. I drove through the intersection and pulled into work.

"I'll do your intake and I'll show you your room. Just keep your answers simple. Your loved one abused you. You're looking for a place to stay until you can find your own. Don't elaborate, okay? The women I work with are astute and they'll be looking for lies in you, anyway, because you're a guy."

"Doesn't seem fair. Men get abused too, don't they?" He said, wincing as he got out of the car. 

"Of course. Just not at the rate women do." I watched him and then zipped in when he looked like he might fall into the gorse bush beside the door. I caught him around the waist and helped him in.

My coworkers' eager eyes were on us. I nodded, said hi, but guided Zech to my little corner of the building. I pulled a new file and filled in his information as we discussed, in whispers, how we might get the information we needed to keep him safe, death warrant and all. Arsinua remained silent.

After half an hour, about the usual time it took to talk with a new client and get the mound of paperwork filled out, I helped Zech down the hall to the long stretch of rooms. We'd done extensive remodeling with a grant to change access to each room from doors looking onto a parking lot to doors opening into a security-enabled hallway. Each client had her own passkey to her small room, which included a tiny kitchen, main room, and bathroom. 

I let Zech in, showed him around, and told him to sit tight. "Please don't go rushing off to avenge yourself. There might be something we can come up with that doesn't involve you dying in a slow and painful way."

"I won't hide forever."

"I'm not asking you to. Just give it time. Please." I laid a hand on his arm, and then gestured to the door. "I have to go. The ladies are buzzing about you. Cute, young, and in pain."

He blushed, he actually did. 

I laughed and left him with his card key and his thoughts as I returned to my coworkers. Anytime we took in a man, curiosity abounded. Don't get me wrong, we didn't open our mouths outside the Caring Shelter about anyone who came in, but we did talk amongst ourselves.

I held up my hands to stave off the questions. "I sprung him from the hospital. He was whipped. I guess his girlfriend was into some BDSM and it got out of hand. He'll be here a week or two, until he gets back on his feet."

Danni was the only one who stayed. She ghosted me back to my office and then slouched against the wall as I sat down and tucked Zech's file into my cabinet. My lockable file cabinet. I made a mental note to burn the file a month or two down the line, if I lived through it.

"How are you doing?"

I sighed, pointed at one of the soft chairs for clients. "It's rough. But I'm dealing with it."

Danni slipped into the seat. She was wearing another of her shapeless outfits. She was convinced it hid her from notice and I had to admit she was right. She could slip through crowds without leaving a lasting impression on anyone. Perhaps she ought to consider a career as a spy. She'd be good at blending in. "And he's being. Nice?"

Nice. Euphemism for 'Is he beating you?'

"I'm okay. Tom might have cheated, but he's not abusive." I tucked my feet underneath me. "He wants another chance. He was in a car accident." Okay, so one could argue that accident wasn't the right word, considering. “Now he thinks he's seen the error of his ways. Wants me to give him time to prove himself."

She nodded and tucked one stick straight length of hair behind her ear. "What do you want? Do you want to forgive him, take him back?"

"No."

We stared at each other after that prompt, adamant answer. Then I laughed even though it wasn't funny. "That's awful, I know it is. But I can't help it. I don't want him to touch me. I don't want him kissing me. Ick. It would be like kissing that woman he cheated on me with.”

"I'm sorry. I wish I could help."

I leaned over and touched her hand. "You have. Just by listening. And not giving me advice. I hate that." I smiled and miracle of miracles, she smiled back.

After a moment, Danni said, "If you need help with him," she blushed. "I mean, the BDSM. My husband, he had a thing for that sort of thing." She ducked her head. "I could help him. Understand. Maybe."

I sat, stunned, unable to say anything in my astonishment. That Danni would volunteer information was amazing. That she would want to help, when she disappeared whenever men came into the office was unbelievable. When I could talk I nodded. "I will ask him."

Again, she smiled and again I was struck by the strange turns my life had been taking. Strange turns. And not all for the bad.

EIGHTEEN

I
was halfway through the afternoon when Louise, Caring Shelter's secretary/receptionist/any other job title we could stick her with, popped her head around the corner. She had a silly smile on her face, looking like someone had kissed her senseless. "You have a visitor."

"I do?" I thought of Ann, who liked purple and orange, plaid and stripes worn together, but couldn't imagine that throwing Louise for such a loop. "Okay." I was about to ask who it was when he stepped around the corner. I stiffened.

"Thank you, Louise. I'm sure she would have worked right through our appointment if I hadn't shown up to remind her." Tytan smiled down at Louise who fluttered her lashes and simpered like a heroine in a romance novel. 

Holy lord, I hoped I didn't do that when I was with him. I waited, hands clenched on the arms of my chair, until Louise left before hissing at him. "What are you doing here? I thought you couldn't be corporeal in my world?"

Tytan settled himself in the chair opposite me and leaned back against the seat. "I can be present for a short time. It costs me, like every bloody other thing I do in your world, which is why the heart would have made me powerful." He stared at me in a way I didn't like, as if he were picturing cutting the heart out and saving himself the trouble of dealing with me. Then he smiled again. "You have to help me create a new formless one. It will be a busy night."

I sighed. "I hate your home."

"We won't be in the Slip. We'll be here, in your world. So you need a babysitter for your rats.
”

I jabbed a finger in his direction. "They aren't rats, thank you. And I'm not the sort of mom to gallivant off without any explanation. Liam has a soccer game tonight. I can't miss it."

"You'll have to miss it." He snapped his fingers. Lucy appeared, looking as dangerous as always but maybe—and it might have been my imagination—maybe not as sad. "You can send a replacement."

"I can't send a stranger to," I trailed off as Tytan gestured to me, then to Lucy. I watched as Lucy's features melted into mine. She became me. "What did you do?" I'd shrieked then slapped my hand over my mouth. Any moment I would have a group of worried coworkers in with me.

Lucy departed in an instant and Tytan was laughing as if I'd said the funniest thing in the world. When Louise, Danni and the others poked their heads around the corner, I had a smile on my face. "Sorry guys, Ty was pulling my leg. He knows what buttons to push."

He gave them his best smile, which melted everyone but Danni. She frowned and ducked away. "I'm sorry. I have a wicked sense of humor and I don't get to torment Devany often."

They disappeared but I had a sense at least one of them might be listening beyond our sight. I leaned forward, my voice so low I could barely hear myself. "What did you do? That was creepy."

He leaned forward too, until we were but a breath from each other. "She is—was—a formless one. That's part of her job description. She uses the form she's most comfortable in, but she isn't anything. Wasn't anything. Until you named her," he sat back, a flash of anger across his handsome features. "You gave her substance. She wouldn't be good for anything but this. And soon won't be able to do even that."

"I'm not sending a doppelganger in my place. It's wrong."

"It's your only option. You will do this for me." His words held death. It spiked revulsion inside me. 

"She can't. She doesn't know anything about me."

He grinned but even Louise wouldn't like this smile. "You will give her what she needs to know. For one night, no one will be the wiser. They might suspect something is off with you but she can say you're feeling ill."

I felt ill thinking about it. Tricking my kids like that was not right. "Never again."

"Perhaps."

I jerked my gaze away, tears pressing hard against my eyes. "I hate you."

"Ah, that's devastating news," he said, his silky smooth voice belying the sarcasm behind his words. "Get your shit together so we can go."

I bit back harsh words. He was a dangerous man—thing, monster, demon—and I didn't want to push him, had to remember not to push him. I saved the work I was doing on the computer, shut it down, locked up my files in the cabinet, and gathered up my things. 

Louise and the others were agog when I told them I was leaving early. I tried to catch Danni's attention but she ducked into the bathroom before we'd even come halfway through the main room. I made a mental note to ask her what was wrong tomorrow. If I made it to tomorrow, that was.

He walked too close to me, his hand brushing my waist.

“
Stop it.”

“
Just being courteous, my dear, sweet Archaeon Tezrya.” He held my door as well, and I slid in to the driver's seat, my defensive alarms blaring.

The car rocked as he got in and the temperature rose in the small confines. “Your coworkers are sweet.”

“Knock it off. I don't know what you're playing at—”

“
I don't get to be in your world often. Humans are fascinating. You burn hot and bright like a magnesium flame. A flash and you burst into life, a poof of smoke and you're gone. What must it be like to live with the possibility of death around each second of your life?”

“
Fuck you.” I glanced at him. Something on his face gave me pause. “You're an ass, you know that? You squander your time, dabble with people's lives, threaten to kill me or harm someone I love every time I turn around. But you know nothing about life. Nothing. You can't cherish what you don't understand.” I jabbed the keys into the ignition. “I feel sorry for you.”

He didn't answer so we drove in silence. My mind picked at the problem of Ty, unable to think of a solution. We played an epic game with a five thousand page rule book, a rule book I'd never read and one that he randomly changed whenever it suited him. I wouldn't get away from him by following the rules. I needed to remember that.

I stopped the car in a small park with rolling green hills and a small trickle of a stream running through it. "Why are we here?"

"To give you and," he cleared his throat, "Lucy a chance to commune with nature. And each other." He snapped again and Lucy showed up in the backseat, still looking like me. Her face—my face—looked as distressed as I felt.

"It's not my idea," I said, wanting her to know I wouldn't co-opt her body like this.

"I know." She nodded, as if trying to convince herself.

"Stop it. You know what you are. Even if you've been granted reprieve, you still belong to me." His harsh words were so different from the honeyed ones of earlier and they stood in stark contrast. His face wasn't as beautiful, either, though I know he could change that in an instant. 

Lucy reached over the seat and held out her hand. I hesitated, glanced at Tytan, then took it. Her memories rushed into me and at once I knew her, how he'd made her. It sickened me and left a knot of loathing inside my chest that I would have a hand in creating another of these creatures. Then the process reversed and my memories, feelings, knowledge flowed into her. I knew it, felt it, couldn't do a damn thing to stop it.

When our hands broke from one another, I searched in my mind and then breathed a sigh of relief. My memories were still there. Liam's birth. Bethy's first words. Tom and I standing beside each other on our wedding day. I blinked. "It didn't work?"

"It worked. Amazingly well, in fact. I've never seen it happen so smoothly or quickly. The heart must facilitate the process." He slid his finger from my belly up to my throat as if he wanted to gut me.

Unwilling to indulge in that fear again, I faced Lucy. "How old is Liam?"

"Twelve."

Easy. "Bethy?"

"Ten."

She answered in my voice, spoke with my lips. It was like looking into an interactive mirror. "What was the name of the first boy I kissed?"

"Daniel Stevenson."

I shook my head. "No, that's not right…" then I stopped, a rush of imagery surfacing. Daniel Stevenson had been my first kiss. Technically. He'd been seven and I'd been eight. It had been a brief peck on a dare but it had been my first kiss. I stared. "Wow."

"Amazing. Let's get on with it." Tytan got out of the car. "Now."

I fiddled with the keys, took my time with the seat belt, wanting to quiz my twin and assure myself she'd pass muster. Outside, we faced each other. "Please," I started.

"I'll take care of them like my own children. I promise." 

I looked sincere. Oh lord, what the hell was I saying? This was foolish. "I can't do it," I said, turning to Tytan.

He answered by stealing me away. I stumbled into the Slip, my mind reeling from the alien landscape once again. I grabbed at Tytan, letting him lead me like a blind woman through the wavery streets. "Why are we here?" My survival instinct urged me to look around. I ignored it.

"I have to get my things."

I wasn't sure what things those might be. I pictured a black, old-fashioned medical bag with wicked tools of torture. "Why didn't you pop us to your house?"

"Because I don't own the bloody heart." He was whispering. My ears perked up. Interesting, that. 

"What would happen if anyone else knew about it?" Maybe it was against Skriven law. Maybe I could tell another of his kind and get Tytan locked up. I would be free.

He jerked me to a stop. "I'm one of the nice ones. The rest would dig that chunk of magical crystal out of your living flesh the moment they knew it was inside you."

My heart banged in my ears, making it difficult to hear him. "Why didn't you?"

"Because I like making life difficult for myself." He glared at me. "I'd do it now but," He yanked on my arm and we were walking again. "things have changed." I asked him what things but he refused to say anything more. I stumbled more than once but he didn't loosen his grip on my arm until we reached his house.

He set it and only then did I relax. Tytan left me rubbing at my arm as he disappeared down the hall. A heavy sensation of being watched settled on my shoulders. "Hi Nex."

"Your children will be fine. They will accept the formless one."

I sat, not sure whether I was miserable about that or not. I was glad the kids would be fine, wasn't so glad that some stranger could pass herself off so easily as me. "Thanks."

"My queen touched you."

Strange. Hadn't we already had this conversation? "Yes. She brought me back to life. Said she gave me life force but didn't give me any of the poison that would change me into one of you." I paused. "Not that I'm implying it would be bad." Okay, it would be bad, but why get on the floating head's bad side?

Nex laughed. "I read you as easily as one of my own."

"Oh." Sorry. I twitched, uncertain of how to feel about it. Of course, as soon as I knew what I felt, apparently he would know it too.

"That's just it. We have never shared life force with a human. Only the poison. I read you well, now, and you have a Midian scent."

"A what?"

“The Midians have scents. The witches call it a magical signature. Humans are practically scentless. But not you. Not anymore."

I chewed at my cuticles, my stomach a roiling mess. "It must be the heart. The heart is doing it. Or Arsinua. Or Neutria."

"No. You didn't have one before my queen saved your life. I had little time to notice it the last time you were here."

"In and out, that's me," I joked, my mind picking over what he'd said. "So, that's what? Good? Bad?" I thought of Tytan. "Does he have a scent?"

"A texture."

My lips pursed. "Are you pulling my leg?"

"Are you saying you can't feel him?"

For a moment I contemplated it, then flailed my hands. "No. No! I'm not thinking about feeling that horrible man." But now that Nex mentioned it ... "No. Not happening."

He floated closer until his face was level with mine. "Our kind is one of the oldest life forms on Midia. We live in the swamps that gave birth to all life on our world." His breath washed over me. Rank. "This scent is yours, not the witch's or the assassin's or the heart." He smiled, razor teeth flashing. I saw a bit of flesh stuck between his teeth then averted my gaze. "You are one of us now."

"I thought you said I wasn't a fleshcrawler." I didn't want to run around sucking people's blood or worse, slither through swamp muck, preying on the freakish animals that waddle their way down to its shores to drink.

"No. Not fleshcrawler. Midian. A brand new species."

Tytan came back then, jostling my attention from Nex. He carried a clay pot. No knives, no strange utensils. Just a pot. "What the hell are you on about now?"

Nex laughed and floated away, his gory trail of intestines reminding me of the tail of a kite. The tail of a kite of a serial killer. You know, skin stretched to make the kite, entrails the ... never mind.

"Why do you even need me? Why can't you make another on your own?” I was aware I was whining but couldn't help it.

"I told you, it costs too much to do the hopping we'll be doing tonight. It takes years to amass the kind of wealth needed to make those visits to your world. Also, I'd rather my Maker not now I must make another Formless One to take the place of your Lucy. Tonight, the heart will do it for me with no one the wiser." He grabbed my arm again and I yelped. "You will do it for me."

"I'm not killing anyone," I said, my voice pitched high.

"Don't worry. Tonight we visit the dead."