Fury Rising (Fury Unbound Book 1) (4 page)

I wanted to beg him to shut up. Even the distant rumble of traffic and the hum of the neon lights were too much for me to handle. But I could barely open my mouth, let alone speak. I managed to curl into a ball on the sidewalk, holding my head, and Tommy-Tee just sat beside me rubbing my back. He very kindly picked up my sword—ignoring the burns that must have hit his fingers as he touched it—and slid it back in the sheath hung over my shoulder.

I don’t know how long I stayed that way—it couldn’t have been more than five minutes—before I heard Jason’s voice.

“Kae? Kae… Talk to me, Kaeleen.”

I was having trouble focusing. A blur of two faces looked down at me. One, I knew, was Tommy-Tee. The other, I surmised, was Jason.

“Jason, man. Fury’s fucked up. She needs to get home.” When Tommy-Tee was worried, I knew I was bad off.

Jason. Thank gods it
was
Jason. “Help…please…” I managed to croak as I started to shiver in the chill of the night.

The next moment, I felt myself being swept up—I was in somebody’s arms. I was coherent enough to know that it had to be Jason because Tommy-Tee could barely carry his guitar. The Opish had eaten away at him so much over the years that physically, he wasn’t even as strong as a feeble old man.

“Let’s get you back home. Queet let me know what was happening.”

I tried to nod and say yes, but it came out a garbled “Uh…”

“Queet, go ahead and unlock Fury’s door. I know you can do that, so get a move on. I’m taking her home now.” And we were moving. I closed my eyes, the swaying motion of Jason carrying me oddly comforting, but at the same time, I felt vaguely nauseated. He kept quiet, though, knowing too well how much sound affected me at this point. Then we were in a vehicle and it moved slowly but surely. It could have been a car or the Monotrain, for all I knew.

After a while, his voice cut through the fog again. “I’m going to carry you up the stairs now, Kae, so you may feel like you’re being bumped around a little. I’m sorry in advance.”

And up we went. The swaying became a series of jolts, but I managed to keep myself from crying even though every shudder felt like it was pummeling me with a sledgehammer. My muscles ached, my stomach was knotted, and I had the migraine from hell blowing up in my head. But then, it finally stopped and I heard the squeak of my door, and we were inside. A moment later and the movement stopped. I was on my bed—I could tell that much from the familiar feel of my comforter.

“I’m going to get your clothes off you now and tuck you into bed. Queet said you were out on the Crossroads. Don’t bother trying to answer—you don’t have to. I know the smell of char. Abomination?”

“Mmm.” I could manage that much now that I was home. My head was beginning to spin, though, and it wouldn’t be long before I passed out.

“You have a message on your phone. Want me to read it and tell you what it is?”

My phone…a message…that’s right, I always put it on mute when I went out hunting. “Mmm.” Again, the one word I seemed to be able to master.

There was a brief silence, then Jason’s hushed voice. “Fury, Hecate texted. She wanted to remind you that she’s going to call you tomorrow morning.”

I tried to say something. I tried to feel anything other than nauseated. But as the room began to swim for real, I gave up. I managed a “Wake me?” but before I could hear what Jason answered, a chasm opened up below me, and I went tumbling into the deep black void that claimed me every time I fought out on the Crossroads.

Chapter 3

Early morning brought with it the numbing chill of rain and wind. I had a mild hangover from being out on the Crossroads, but as usual, I woke early and managed to drive some of the pain out of my shoulders beneath the steaming shower spray. I dressed quickly—a burgundy corset, leather shorts, shiny black buckle-boots with chunky heels that laced up to my shins, and my leather jacket. I couldn’t wear anything that might interfere with reaching for my whip.

Along my right leg, from mid-outer thigh, coiling down my leg to end right above my ankle, was the tattoo of a flaming whip. Only it was no mere tattoo. When I needed to, I merely slapped my hand against my thigh and the whip appeared in my hand, a coil of energy that took form when I needed it. Hecate had tattooed it there, herself, when I faced my mother’s killer. I could never lose it. Nobody could ever steal it, for the astral weapon would vanish if anybody else ever tried to take hold of it. It was the perfect weapon.

Restless—the next day after being out on the Crossroads always left me at loose ends—I skirted the vendors setting out their wares for the day in the Market Square. The center of Darktown, the Market was where everybody gathered. In summer, on the few hot days we had, the kids would break open fire hydrants and dance under the spray of water, but now we were into early September and autumn had closed in fast and furious.

The play-girls were already leaning against light poles, eyeing the growing throng like so many vultures. Pickpockets were out looking for easy marks, and the Nancies paraded on display as if for an invisible beauty crown. And, of course, there were the bogeys, but they kept to themselves. As I passed by a small group of them gathered on the street corner they gave me a silent nod and I raised my hand in return greeting. Most of them came out of the Junk Yard, but the shadow men knew who I was and what I was capable of. I didn’t bother them, they didn’t bother me, and we left it at a nice little truce.

Moving through the cacophony of sound and movement, I blinked against the rising smoke of the food stalls. It blended with a hundred different perfumes, urine from the burrow-lanes, smog and exhaust, to create one exotic fragrance that permeated the streets of downtown Seattle.

I paused for a moment and leaned against the side of a Moroccan restaurant. The smell of spicy couscous and lamb drifted out, and my mouth began to water. I hadn’t eaten since lunch the day before, and that had only been a hot dog and a shake. The thought of stopping in for a quick breakfast crossed my mind, but then I nixed the thought. I was running low on cash, and I could always bum a muffin and coffee from Shevron at Up-Cakes.

Besides, Hecate would kick my ass if I didn’t take her call when she rang. I promised myself that I would come back and pick up some of the lamb along with some apricot delight once I’d managed to find another job. I had almost run through the money from my last contract.

I gazed around the streets, scanning the crowd to make sure there weren’t any Aboms around, but my Trace screen told me that the coast was clear for now. There had been an upswing in activity from the World Tree the past couple of months. While not all were Aboms, there were other creatures just as unwelcome and just as dangerous. Ker demons, for example. Three of them had crossed over a few days ago and vanished into the crowded city.

“Hey baby, how much for a go-round?”

Startled, I whirled to find myself facing a nondescript Suit.
Slummer.
He fingered his money clip in plain view, pegging him for an outlier. Anybody who lived in Darktown knew better than to flash cash around. His gaze darted nervously from me to the play-girls and Nancies lining the street. Most likely, he was afraid of being caught, but he shouldn’t have worried. The sky-eyes seldom showed up in the Market during the day. Too many chances for somebody to try to take one down, and that was an expense the Devani didn’t want to incur. They had learned the hard way to leave the streets in Darktown and the Trips to the bogeys. Nobody with any sense went into the Trips at night unless they lived there.

I glanced down at my outfit, wondering what about it screamed
hooker
to him. Yes, I was showing some skin, but not like the play-girls. But the dead giveaway should have been my sword, sheathed in the scabbard slung over my shoulder. Sex-for-sales didn’t tend to carry large, ornate, prickly sharp blades when they were working. They were usually packing, yes, but not so obviously.

I brushed him off. “I’m not selling what you’re looking for.”

He tugged on his tie and cleared his throat. “
You sure? I can pay—
”

I stared at him coolly and then grabbed his collar, shoving him up against the wall, hard. The shadow of fear clouded his eyes as he realized just how strong I was.
Good.
He needed to learn a lesson before somebody
really
nasty got to him.

“You see my sword here?” I pointed to the hilt of my sword with one hand while holding him firm with the other.

“I thought it was a prop,” he squeaked out.

“Trust me, it’s not. I could cut you in half.” I suddenly smelled urine and realized he had peed himself. “Are you afraid?”

He nodded.

I could have let go, but I wanted the lesson to sink in. “Then you’re not entirely stupid. You
should
be afraid. But you’re lucky that
I’m
the one you stumbled onto and not one of the bogeys. The shadow men don’t like strangers, and
their
play-girls are usually armed with steely knives and bowie clips that they’ll use without hesitation on the likes of you.”

A tendril of Wandering Ivy reached out from the swath covering the side of the building, tapping him on the shoulder, and his eyes grew wider. He squirmed harder.

“Please, let me go. It’s going to choke me.”

“And that would break my heart
how
?” But I loosened my grip, letting his feet hit the ground again. I held firm to his collar, ignoring the tendril. I could tear it away if the ivy got pushy.

“While we’re on the subject of stupidity, you might want to tuck your cash out of sight. You’re in Darktown, for fuck’s sake. Use your common sense. Daylight won’t protect you here. Neither will the Devani. Meanwhile, there are plenty of thieves around here who wouldn’t think twice about dragging your sorry ass into one of the burrow-lanes and snagging that windfall. Now, why don’t you run on back to Croix or Uptown, or wherever it is you’re from, and if you’re still horny, call one of the sky-high girls. Don’t come here again. Slumming’s not a hobby for the weak of heart. Or for Suits.”

I let go and he backed away, his face a mask of fear as I motioned for him to run along. He turned, scuttling off toward the Monotrain platform. He’d probably be safe enough without an escort but, for his sake, I hoped I had thrown a good scare into him. Next time, somebody bigger, badder, and meaner was going to find him first, and if it was a bogey, he wouldn’t be nearly so generous.

Turning my attention back to the street, I crossed over to Prickle Street and headed toward Dream Wardens. The doors were unlocked and as I pushed through, a wave of asafoetida assailed my senses. The resin was pungent, but the smell made me feel at home.

Jason was bent over one of the workbenches. He glanced up at me, arching an eyebrow as his gaze slinked over my body.

Jason Aerie had wheat-colored hair that fell to his butt. He kept it braided most of the time, and his eyes were a brilliant green. He wasn’t a pretty-boy, but he was striking, with a firm jaw and an aquiline nose. The fact that he was built didn’t hurt, all muscled but not hulking. He usually wore snug jeans that hugged his butt, a long-sleeved sweater, and motorcycle boots made for actual use rather than looks.

It occurred to me that he was too handsome for his own good, or rather, for mine. Jason was engaged to a Corp-Rat named Eileen, an uncommon match, but there you had it. Sometimes opposites attracted. But they did have something in common—they were in the same Cast—hawk-shifter family. I didn’t have much to talk about with her, other than the fact that we both cared about Jason. To be honest, I had harbored a mild crush on him for years. But since he was also one of the best friends I had, I made sure to keep any and all attraction under wraps. I wasn’t into breaking up love affairs. Love was too rare to tamper with when you found it.

“Kae, how are you feeling this morning?” Jason was one of the few people who still called me by my name. Most people called me
Fury
, but Jason chose to help me remain connected to a time when I had just been Kaeleen Donovan, before my mother died and I had taken on the full mantle of divine demon hunter and dark moon witch.

“You don’t want to know. Ugh, I had horrible dreams.” I shrugged off the sheath holding my sword, propping it against one of the chairs, and slid out of my jacket. I still felt like I had been punched in the gut—another lovely side effect from being out on the Crossroads.

“You look like you lost a bet with a bottle of vodka.” But the smile fell away as he realized I wasn’t returning it. He wiped his hands on a cloth and stepped out from behind the counter.

I wandered over to a well-used sofa against the opposite wall. As I dropped onto the welcoming cushions, I leaned my head back. Every ache and pain running through my body began to clamor for attention and I realized I still wanted to sleep.

“So what’s next?” he asked.

“I wait for Hecate to call. I’m not sure what’s up, but she told me that there’s something going on. At least I got the Abom.” I grinned at him.

“And you did a good job of it, by the way you looked last night. Kae, I don’t envy you,” Jason said. “Honestly, I don’t know how you manage to navigate through the minefield of being a Theosian. Especially running off-grid. How you remain…
you
…after you’ve faced some of the assignments you’ve been given confounds me. I don’t know if I could do it.”