Children Shouldn't Play with Dead Things (Dead Things Series Book 1) (18 page)

“Mace,” he said, “and you are…?”

“We are infinite. We are everything and nothing.”

Mace’s eyebrow’s shot upwards, “Ah, I see.” He knelt before her cupping her face before dropping his hands as if burned. He eased back, “Um, approximately how many of you are in there. No need to be exact, a rough estimate will do.”

The cackle that echoed from her lips scared her but the fear on Mace’s face frightened her more. He didn’t seem the type to panic easily. What if he left her? What would they do to her?

He didn’t run. He looked her right in the eyes, “Ember, luv, I know you’re in there. Whatever is happening you have to fight.”

She wanted to tell him he was right. She was right there but they wouldn’t let her. “She won’t fight. She has no idea what she’s doing. But you, you know, don’t you. We know you. We need you. She needs you,” the voice told him in the singsong tone of a demented child. Mace had no idea what the hell was going on.

His smile was tight across his face, “I’m flattered, of course, but I’m afraid I will have to respectfully decline. I’m already gainfully employed.”

The thing inside of Ember screeched in fury, “You don’t get to choose.”

Her fists hit the ground and it rumbled beneath her, tiny furrows forming on the ground. Mace looked alarmed. She was scaring him. Somewhere in the darkest part of her, she found his fear oddly satisfying; or maybe her magic did.

She did it again, her fists causing the ground to tremble, tipping over an already crumbling headstone.

“My apologies,” he started, leaning back, hands in the air. “I’m at your service. Always happy to help.”

“She’s not strong enough for this. We’ll burn her from the inside if you don’t help. You know it’s true, but perhaps you don’t care about her?”

Ember felt herself gain control enough to stare at her hands, fascinated with the sparks arching between her fingers. She blinked heavily.

“Do you see this?” she whispered watching as her fingertips blistered and blackened. She blinked hard against the sweat pouring into her eyes. She vaguely registered the pain in her hands.

“I do see it, yes. Um, I think it’s important you relax, Luv. Possibly try breathing?”

“I don’t want to. I just want this. We just want this.” She thrust her abused hands into the earth beneath her. Her relief was instant, like completing a circuit. All that power poured from her into the ground below; something like roots wrapped at her wrists, holding her to the earth. As the energy flowed from her into the ground, it felt like she was dying, life draining from her but she just couldn’t bring herself to care.

29

MACE

M
ace stared at the girl before him; not at all sure Ember was even in there anymore. Her eyes bled black and her head fell backwards, looking up at nothing. Well that was certainly not good. Whatever had a hold of Ember was draining her. The ground trembled, headstones crumbling, tiny cracks appearing along the ground like lightning bolts, widening enough to swallow a chunk of concrete.

If he didn’t stop this, they were going to swallow this cemetery and take the two of them with it. But he had no idea how to stop it. He could run. Nobody had ever accused him of being a hero, a benefit that came with having no soul. He knew even before he finished the thought he wouldn’t go. He had no idea why. Maybe it was the way it taunted him. Maybe it was the way she’d looked so helpless. He wasn’t ready to think about the why just yet.

“Alright, Luv,” he told her, inching closer, “I am hoping you are still in there somewhere because you are going to have to help me out just a little. I think this is going to hurt like hell.”

He plunged his hands into the dirt, just over hers. Whatever bound her hands below the surface, loosened, allowing him to take hold, palm to palm.

The pain was instantaneous, roaring through him like thousands of razor blades rending his flesh. It punched the breath from his lungs. The bindings that once held Ember closed to embrace them both, sealing his fate. Not the first time, he was grateful for his immortality. There was no escaping now.

“Ember, I need you to hear me.” He could feel blisters forming where they connected, “Come on, Luv. I know you are in there.”

He did the only thing he could think of. He called his own magic to the surface. He’d channeled her energy in the cemetery; maybe he could do it now. He dropped his guard, letting her in. The magic running through her hit him like an atom bomb, wrenching him backwards. If not for their bound hands, she may have cast him out. He clenched his teeth as her magic felt his and fought back, chewing through his magic and trying to replace it with her own.

He’d been in this world long enough to know his magic was powerful. This power-her power-was like nothing he’d felt before. It seemed like far too much for one person to hold.

“Ember,” he said, grunting against the pain. “You have to work with me here. If you don’t reign this in, you will hurt somebody.” Most likely him.

“I know you don’t want to hurt anybody. That’s not the type of girl you are. You are one of those do-gooder types. I know it.”

He talked to distract himself from the pain and secretly hoping he might find a way past her wall of magic. If he kept talking, maybe she would actually hear him from wherever it was she retreated to when the magic took over.

“Think of your pack. Ember, just look at what you are doing. Whoever’s in there with you, don’t let them win. Can you do that? Can you look at me? Look at anything? Do you really want to hurt somebody, Ember?”

Her head snapped forward, black eyes staring through him. He flinched. She lurched towards him and it took a moment for his brain to register that she wasn’t attacking him but she’d passed out, head on his shoulder, body limp. The shaking stopped, the bonds that tied them together loosening enough for him to catch her as she toppled over.

He was soaked with sweat. His skin burned and he sucked air into his abused lungs, waiting for the pain to fade. He leaned against the tree, rearranging Ember so her head rested against this thigh.

He pushed her hair back from her face, tapping her cheek lightly, “Ember?” He slapped her lightly again. “Ember, luv, just open your eyes and let me know you’re…you? Please,” he whispered the last part, embarrassed.

No response. He peeled open one of her eyelids, relieved to see those otherworldly violet eyes. This close he couldn’t help but notice the tiny flecks of yellow around her pupil. He pressed his fingers against her neck. Her pulse was steady. She lived. That was something.

He held up her hand examining her fingertips. They were pink, the blistered black skin gone somehow. His hands hadn’t faired quite so well but he’d worry about that later.

He had no idea what to do with her now. He pushed a stray curl from her face, letting his finger trace over the freckles on her nose. She was quite lovely, when she wasn’t trying to flay the skin from his bones.

She sighed, turning her face into his hand with something akin to a purr. He swallowed hard, shoving down the strange feeling something had changed between them. He didn’t have time for it. This power, whatever it was, would kill her or somebody else. He’d never seen somebody so consumed by her magic. She was an enigma.

The voice that spoke with him wasn’t hers but she showed no other signs of possession. She didn’t hold any powers to suggest she was a witch or a reaper but there was nothing else she could be.

“What the hell did you do to my cousin?”

Mace’s head snapped up, grimacing at the intrusion. He plastered a smile on his face, “Well, if it isn’t the boy reaper and his human sidekick.”

“Get the hell away from her,” the human said. “What did you do to her?”

“I didn’t do anything. She had a little…outburst,” he told them, gesturing to the damage around them. “I took care of it. She’s now comfortably sleeping it off. You’re welcome.”

They took in the fissures opened along the ground and then back to the girl in his lap.

“You’re saying Ember did this?” Kai asked.

“You know she did.”

The human looked startled. “Why was she out here?” he asked nobody in particular.

“I’m afraid when I found her she wasn’t in the mood for chatting. I supposed I could have left her here and hightailed it out of town before she turned this place into a sinkhole but I thought I’d at least try to help.”

The other one snorted, “Right. You helped her.”

He said nothing.

The human moved forward, “Wait. Did you help her?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Well, it’s hard to help somebody when you don’t know what they are but I did what I could. It would be helpful if you told me exactly what she is. Reaper? Witch? Hybrid?”

They ignored the question, the human asking, “So, what does that mean? What exactly did you do?”

“I just grabbed her hands and hung on. I tried to counteract her magic with mine. If I wasn’t already dead, I’d say it very well may have killed me.”

They processed that bit of information well. The human stared at him for a long time like he was examining him under a microscope, finally asking, “What are you?”

He contemplated not telling them but really he had no reason to lie. “I’m sure you think I’m going to play hard to get but since I can’t actually die, I’ll tell you. I’m sluagh.”

The human’s mouth fell open. “Lie,” he said. “No way. They’re extinct. They were wiped out by the Tuatha de Danaan centuries ago.”

“Not all of us. You can’t kill what’s already dead, mate. It’s true they managed to trap some of us in the in-between but, I assure you, some of us are still very much here.”

“Uh, what is a sloo-ah?” the reaper asked, looking back and forth between the two.

“Not what, who,” Quinn said, never taking his eyes off him. “The sluagh were a race of dark fae, part of the Unseelie. Demons who flew in flocks like birds and stole the souls of the dying.”

“Stole?” the reaper echoed. “He’s a reaper?”

He scoffed, “He’s a soul eater. In the hierarchy of supernatural psychopaths, it doesn’t get much worse than him.”

Mace raised a brow, “You’re quite judgey, aren’t you. I have to eat.”

“A soul eater?” the reaper repeated.

“Some human scholars thought they were the fallen angels.”

“Aye, that is true,” Mace nodded.

“You’re a fallen angel?” the reaper asked, voice dripping with disbelief.

He smiled, “I didn’t say that. I’m simply agreeing with your mate. That is what they say about us.”

The human’s eyes closed as if he was trying to recall more information, “The sluagh were once human but their deeds were so vile and repulsive they caught the attention of the Unseelie. The Unseelie took them, creating an army of creatures forced to sustain themselves on the souls of others. Sluagh feed on the weak and the sick before they can receive last rights. They prey on the broken and try to steal the souls of the dead before they can be carried across the veil by…well, by you, dude. They have the ability to steal any living soul and are immortal simply because neither heaven nor hell will have them.”

Mace laughed, “That’s a neat trick, mate. I bet you are a blast at parties, but I’m afraid most of that is simply propaganda.”

The reaper bristled at the maligning of his friend, “Get away from my cousin. Actually, just stay away from my cousin.”

He looked down at Ember with her face turned into this hand and sighed. He moved from beneath her, gently settling her head on the ground and brushing off his jeans.

The reapers hand floated to the hilt of his knife.

“Easy, lads. I was just doing as requested.” Neither moved, watching him. For his own amusement, he began to pace. “Now, I could, as you suggested, leave your cousin alone. But ask yourself this,” he came to stop before the two. “What if I hadn’t been here? I don’t know what she is but I’m guessing you do. I think we can all agree she has no control over the amount of energy coursing through her veins.”

The two looked at each other. He knew they knew he was right. He smirked at them. “So the next time she melts down which of you will stand in and act as filter, hmm?” He looked back and forth between the two, palms up to show them the blisters, “I’ve been around for centuries and it felt a little like she was trying to turn my skin inside out.”

The reaper blanched at that image, “Why would we ever trust you?”

“I’ve collected more souls than you will in ten life times.” The human snorted at the term collected but said nothing. “I’m not interested in harming her. I just want to help her.”

It was the truth. Sort of.

The human tilted his head, shoving his glasses up the bridge of his nose, “Why? Sluagh have no soul. You don’t feel sorry for her; you can’t care about her, what could possibly be in this for you?”

“I have my reasons. I’m afraid you’ll just have to trust me.”

Her cousin balked, “You basically just told us you are one of the world’s most prolific serial killers but you want us to trust you?”

“I’m certain the term you are looking for is mass murderer but I see your point. So allow me to put it another way?” He grinned at them, “What choice do you have?”

The reaper bent down and picked up his cousin’s limp form, grunting a bit at the effort, “I will discuss your
generous
offer with the pack and get back to you.”

“Yes, do. I’ll be around.”