Clash of the Otherworlds: Book 3, Portal Guardians (20 page)

BOOK: Clash of the Otherworlds: Book 3, Portal Guardians
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I waited a few minutes and then took two tentative steps towards the pantry.
 
"Come on, you pain in the ass!"

A few more steps had me almost to the door.
 
"Samantha, I am
so
gonna kick your sorry butt when I get in there."

Finally, I was at the door, holding onto it and peering into the dark pantry.
 
Samantha was standing in there, in front of one of the shelves, looking down at something in her hands.

"Oh shit, Sam.
 
What are you doing?"
 
My fear mostly gone, I walked up to her and looked over her arm.
 
In her hands was a wooden box, open; and standing in the middle of its bottom half was a tiny version of herself.

"It's me," she whispered, obviously in freak-out mode level ten-point-oh.

I reached over and gently took the box out of her grasp.
 
"Yeah.
 
It's kind of you, but then kind of not, right?
 
It's a mimicker."

"Do you know what that is?"
 
She looked at me her eyes watery and her face pasty-white.

I nodded.
 
"A piece of your soul."

"Yeah.
 
And Maggie uses them for Fate work."

I looked around the room as I gently shut the box and locked it again.
 
"How'd you find yours in all of these?"

"I don't know.
 
I just ... got a sense of myself over here."
 
She looked around too, and then stopped when her gaze reached me.
 
"Why don't you find yourself?"

I scoffed at her craziness.
 
"As if.
 
Maggie doesn't have a piece of me in here.
 
I'm all me.
 
A hundred percent Jayne, undiluted."

Samantha raised an eyebrow.
 
"You sure about that?"

I thought about it for a second.
 
"I think I'm sure."

She grabbed the box out of my hands.
 
"Close your eyes.
 
Focus.
 
See if you can find your soul."

I blew out a not very ladylike snort of air before following her directions.
 
This is ridiculous.
 
I would've known if someone had taken a piece of my soul.
 
You can't just have a part of your very essence stolen and not realize it's gone
.

But then a nagging feeling tickled the back of my mind.
 
What if ... what if someone found a way to steal a piece of me ... what would I feel like if I were out there in a box?
 
I let my mind wander the shelves of this room, imagining the boxes stacked one on top of the other, rows and rows of them, all of them with symbols on top.

"The gargoyle symbol," I said, seeing a connection from Maggie to me.
 
But then another symbol flitted across my mind.
 
"The infinity symbol."
 
And one more.
 
"The phi symbol."

I opened my eyes, finding Samantha across the room, opening up boxes as fast as her fingers would move.

"Bingo!" she yelled, holding up a box she had just closed back up.
 
It had a gargoyle symbol on it.

"Why am I seeing more than one?" I asked, not even sure I wanted her to answer me.

"I don't know, but I'm going to find out."
 
She'd moved to another shelf and was pulling more boxes off when she yelled out again. "Ah-
ha!
 
Another one!" She closed it and set it down on top of the other before moving over to the shelf that had the phi symbol boxes on it.
 
At the bottom of the stack she found another piece of my soul.
 
"Damn.
 
Here's one more.
 
That is
so
messed up."

I walked over and stood in front of the stack of three boxes, feeling so sick to my stomach I wouldn't have been surprised if I just yacked right there on top of myselves.

"Do you want to see them?" she asked softly.

"Yes and no.
 
I don't, but I'm afraid if I walk away, I'll always wonder what it would have been like."

"Let's do it, then.
 
Regret sucks.
 
Take it from me."
 
She picked up the first box and opened it.

I gasped.
 
There she was.
 
Little me.
 
Little Jayne Sparks.

A tiny sliver of my soul sat in the box, and she was wearing my favorite hoodie and ratty jeans and purple Converse sneaks - the same outfit I'd been wearing when I ran away from home and went to the meeting where I first saw Céline and Dardennes.

"What.
 
The.
 
Fuck
, Samantha."

"What?"

"That's what I was wearing when I met you guys."
 
I looked up at her to gauge her reaction.

Samantha handed me my box and picked up hers, quickly opening it up and putting it side by side with mine.
 
My heart leaped into my throat when I saw what her mimicker was wearing.

"Mine too," said Samantha, her voice hoarse.

Neither of us said a word when a few seconds later our two mimickers noticed each other and walked slowly over to the edges of their boxes, staring at each other the entire time.
 
I didn't move a single muscle, not knowing whether this was a really, really bad, bad thing to let them interact or not, but too sickly curious to stop it.
 
Are they going to hug?
 
Throw down?
 
Spit on each other?

Samantha didn't make a move either.
 
We just stood there, side-by-side, wondering what the hell was going to happen.

And then they started moving their hands towards each other, and my eyes almost popped right out of my head and bounced along the floor when I realized what they were doing.

Samantha started singing along with their motions, next to me, in the freakiest most possessed-sounding voice I ever heard.
 
"
Say, say, oh plaaaaymate ... come out and play with me ..."

I joined in with her as my memory suddenly locked in on the long-unused tune of my youth, my eyes still glued to the boxes.
 
"...
And bring your dollies three ... climb up my apple tree ... slide down my rain barrel ... into my cellar door ... and we'll be jolly friends ... forever mooore ..."
 
We both shut our boxes at the same time, our mimickers slowly backing away to the centers again and sitting down as the covers closed over their heads.

Samantha and I faced each other, both saying the exact same thing at the exact same time.

"My grandmother used to play that game with me."

"Fuck, Samantha!" I shouted, my hand flying up to grab my hair in frustration. "What the hell was that all about?!"

"I don't know!" she screamed back at me.
 
"Are we possessed?!"
 
Her voice had gone up a couple levels to crazy-girl pitch.
 
I was worried she'd come unhinged.
 
I was feeling nearly there myself.

I held out my free hand in a calming gesture, partially bent over with my eyes closed as I tried to get a grip on myself.
 
"Okay! ... Okay ... let's just relax here for a second and think this through." I looked at Sam's face.
 
"Alright?
 
Are you cool with that?"

She nodded really quickly.
 
"Yeah."

"Come on."
 
I straightened up and pulled her out of the pantry, into Maggie's sitting room, making sure to take all my boxes with me.
 
"Sit," I said, pointing to the rocking chair.
 
I pulled the stool over and sat in front of her, stacking the boxes in my lap.

"What the hell was that?" asked Samantha, calmer now but still not un-freaked.

"I don't know, but I think between the two of us, we can figure this shit out.
 
Now ... first ... why are our mimickers wearing the clothes from when we were human?"

Samantha took a deep breath in and then out before answering.
 
"I think we look like what we looked like when the piece was ... extracted."

I grimaced.
 
"Ew.
That's gross.
 
That word
extracted
.
 
It's like alien invasion of my orifices or whatever"

"
Gah,
thanks for the visual I really didn't need right now.
 
Anyway, if I'm right, then what does that mean?"
 
She raised an eyebrow at me, and I got the distinct impression she already had an answer.

"Well, don't keep me hanging," I said, rolling my eyes.
 
"Spill it."

"Céline."

"Céline what?"

"Céline is the soul collector ... the soul stealer."

I leaned over, my eyes bugging out.
 
"No!"

"Yes!
 
It totally makes sense!"

"How!
 
Tell me!
 
I'm so fucking lost right now!"

"During the interview ... did she take your hands and do some voo doo mojo stuff on you like she did with me?"

I thought about it for a second, taking a trip down memory lane to the day I sat in that interview room with her and Dardennes.
 
And I distinctly remembered her taking my hands while she asked me some questions.
 
"Okay, yeah.
 
She held both my hands for a few minutes."

"Me too.
 
All of us except Jared.
 
Jared and I talked about it after.
 
I think she's doing that and taking pieces of us with her.
 
I remember him being upset when he found out she did that.
 
It made no sense at the time, but now it does, right?"

"Yeah, but why?
 
Why in the hell would she, first of all, do that, and second of all, give them to Maggie?"

"What did she say to you in your little private talk in your room?"

"She said that she'd sold her soul.
 
And that everything was negotiable."
 
I felt my ears burning as the words hung in the air between us.
 
"Oh, fuck a duck.
 
She made a deal with Maggie that she would steal souls for her."

Samantha whispered, "Céline is the soul stealer, and Maggie is the soul collector."

The door flew open with a bang, making Samantha jump up and me fall over sideways off the stool.
 
I held my boxes to my chest and struggled to stand.

"What are you doing in here!" yelled Maggie in her haggie-ass voice.
 
"How'd you get past my locks?"
 
Then her gaze lit on me, and she said, "Oh.
 
That explains it."
 
She waved towards the door.
 
"Get out.
 
Both of you.
 
And don't come back.
 
I find you tiresome."

"Lie!" I yelled before I could stop myself.

Maggie froze and then turned very slowly in place.
 
"What did you just say?"

I gave her my fakest grin ever.
 
"Lie?"

"Do you have any idea how much you just sounded like her, Jayne?" asked Samantha.

"Shut up, witch."
 
I disregarded my partner in crime and focused on Maggie.
 
"Time for truth or dare, Maggie the Haggie.
 
We ask you questions and you tell us the truth."

"What about the dare?" she asked slyly.

"I dare you to not answer me with the truth."

"Hrumph.
 
That's not how I remember the game being played."

"My game, my rules."
 
I gestured to the rocking chair. "Come rest your lumpy bum."

Maggie just stared at us, so I looked over at Samantha.
 
"Sam, feel free to compel her over here as you see fit."

"Are you sure?" she asked.

"Are you, or are you not, holding a piece of your soul in a box right now?"

"You've got a point."
 
Samantha turned to Maggie.
 
"You heard the elemental.
 
Move it, or I'll move it for you."

"A dangerous challenge, witchling," said Maggie scowling at her.

"You taught me almost everything I know.
 
Almost."
 
Samantha stared at her.
 
"Please.
 
Don't make me do it, Maggie."

Maggie waited a few more seconds, probably just out of sheer stubbornness, before coming over to sit in the rocking chair.
 
I pulled up the stool for myself and waved at the other chair for Samantha.
 
She dragged it over and sat down next to me.
 
Samantha and I sat there, the two of us, our four boxes of mimickers in our laps, facing the soul collector.

"So?!
 
Out with it!" yelled Maggie.
 
"I haven't got all day!
 
I have my beauty rest to catch up on!"

"Can you actually sleep for five thousand years?" I asked, smiling devilishly at my joke.

Maggie leaned over, her cloudy eye getting way too close for my comfort.
 
"No ... but I can fix it so that you do."
 
She rocked in her chair and cackled loud, her head thrown back with the joy of it.

I nearly gagged at the wide-open view I got of her gnarly dental work - or complete lack thereof.

"Maggie, why are you collecting souls and having Céline steal them for you?" asked Samantha.

Maggie fixed her beady black eye on Sam.
 
"You already know the answer to that question, girl."

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