Pandora's Ring (12 page)

“No one on our trail?” Eli asked.

“Not yet,” Francis said. He laughed. “Everyone’s still trying to work out whether Cyrene’s telling the truth about a mortal with that kind of power, or if she just doesn’t want to admit you beat her.”

“Ah, to be a celebrity,” Eli drawled.

* * * *

Samantha stared at the two men and the dog in front of her. The dog perked its ears as she looked it over. A boxer. She loved boxers, and held out a hand in invitation. The dog took it, leapt onto the bed and snuffled her hand, arm and face as she tried to process what Eli had just said.
We’re pretty sure we know what happened, Samantha. When Diego came to collect on your mother’s promise, she damned herself and locked them both in her wedding ring.

 
“What about the body? Are you saying my dad buried an empty coffin?”

“In this case, Marie’s soul would have left her body,” Francis said. “Her physical body would have died. So, no. By all rights, the doctors probably had no idea what happened–her body simply switched off.”

Samantha swallowed hard. Those were exactly the words her father had used when she’d asked what killed her mother. Her father. What was she going to say to him? She scratched the dog to take her mind off the emotions roiling at the base of her throat and let out a breath. The dog panted, then kerflopped onto her outstretched legs and rolled over so she could reach his stomach. “So, Mom and Diego were the two voices I heard.”

“Probably,” Eli said . “It’s what makes the most sense.”

Samantha nodded. It did add up. But she didn’t want to believe it. “What about Cyrene? Are we safe here?”

“For now,” Eli said. “We think you should use tonight to try and talk to the two voices. Gauge what’s going on.”

“See my mother,” Samantha whispered. “What the hell do I say to her, Eli?” She drew her arms around her, shivering. “Hi Mom, glad you weren’t heartless enough to actually go through with your deal with the devil.
 
What did she ask for, anyway?”

Eli glanced at Francis, who shrugged. “Not sure. It’s not in the records. Rarely is–they let each Damned deal with it themselves most of the time.”

She pressed her lips together then leaned forward and hugged the dog. His mouth opened into a fiery inferno, but Samantha was too preoccupied to care. He was a firm body to hold onto. “I like your dog,” she murmured. “What’s his name?”

“Hammy,” Francis said with a faint smirk. “Best damn hell hound in the world.”

“I bet you are,” Samantha said, playing with the dog’s ears. “You’re way better than that stupid old crow Cyrene has.”

Francis chuckled. “Damn straight, he is.”

Hammy woofed quietly and sat up straight.

“Does he actually understand us?” Samantha asked.

“Not directly. He understands you through me,” Francis said. He grinned as he reached over and patted the dog’s head. “A companion is like an extension of your own soul. That’s why they’re so powerful. It also makes them a bit dangerous to have, though, because if the companion is trapped or killed, the master is severely vulnerable.”

“I’d love to throttle that Damned crow of Cyrene’s,” Samantha muttered. “Just because it’s ugly.”

Francis laughed. “You’re right. It’s a pretty damn ugly bird. Nothing like what Eli almost wound up with though.”

Eli glanced sidelong at Francis as Samantha looked up curiously. “Which was?”

“Vulture,” Eli grumbled almost sullenly. “Someone thought it’d be funny.”

“Thankfully for him he was judged unworthy of a companion. You’ve got to be pretty damn powerful for it. Fifteen thousand souls at least.”

Samantha tilted her head. “How many do you have?”

“Twenty-six thousand or so.” Francis shrugged.

She stared. “Wow.” She said. “It must be loud in there.”

“Occasionally,” he said with a wink and a smile. “But at least it’s never boring. I’ve got to take care of some things, so I’ll see you after dinner, all right?”

Samantha smiled, grateful Francis was there, and patted the dog on the head again. “Thanks, Francis. You too, Hammy.”

* * * *

The dog licked her hand a few times–which Samantha accepted though his tongue was just under boiling water temperature–and scrambled off the bed after his master. Eli sat down instead and bid farewell to Francis. He smoothed Samantha’s hair. “You know,” he said, “for a second there, I was worried you were gonna ditch me for the dog.”

She laughed, holding up her arm to show the red marks where Hammy had licked her. “Somehow I don’t think his oral would be quite as good.”

“I see how it is,” Eli teased. “You just want me for the sex.”

“Obviously.” Samantha said, and chuckled.
 
She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. “You know, nothing to do with saving my life twice, coming after me against a she-demon twice your power, and then getting to the bottom of what the hell was happening while I was passed out on the bed. Nope. Not a bit.”

Eli’s heart warmed, and he kissed her deeper, murmuring, “You know, you should eat something. Maybe there’s a place here where we can get some clothes.”

“Got any cash?” she asked as she leaned back. “I’m afraid if we use a card we’ll be tracked.”

“Don’t worry. We’re covered.” He pulled her up and found the sport coat from the car again. She pulled it on sans shirt or bra and looked at herself in the mirror. “I’m not sure I could call this decent.”

Eli smirked, leaned over to her and braced a hand at the small of her back.
 
His lips traced a line down her neck and into the deep valley of cleavage revealed by the jacket.
 
His tongue lengthened to flick at her nipples. Samantha gasped. “Eli…”

“Yes?” he asked, slowly moving back up, pushing the lapel back so her other breast was revealed to his fingers. She moaned faintly. “Sorry, what did you say?”

“Fuck breakfast,” she said, grabbing his shirt and pulling him closer.

He chuckled. “I can’t imagine that would be comfortable. Toast is too scratchy, eggs would just get everywhere, and can you imagine the burns from biscuits and gravy?”

“Eli,” she groaned, trying not to laugh. “Come on, I’m trying to get you to screw me here.”

“Oh, really?” He grinned and pushed her back, kissing her. “In that case, I think I can manage.”

* * * *

It was a strange sensation to go into her own mind with the intent of talking to voices not her own. Samantha tried to recall the description Eli and Francis had given her.
Just keep diving,
Eli had said.
If Diego takes a swing, remember how the wards on your apartment worked. The magic is similar.

So, as he said, she kept diving. Not quite a walk, or a swim, the experience was as easy as a thought. Her mind did the traveling, and down she went. She couldn’t help but wonder if there wasn’t a white rabbit with a pocket watch in front of her.

It wasn’t black, precisely, but absent of light, like she was in the middle of the night sky. Samantha looked around wonderingly and caught her breath. Stars? How were there stars in the depths of her mind?

“Souls, Samantha,” someone said. Samantha started and looked around, eyes wide as she found a Damned across from her, a woman who smiled with supernatural beauty. “The stars are souls you are carrying with you.”

Samantha swallowed hard as she stared at the Damned before her. She didn’t look like Eli, or Cyrene. Her feet were still feet. Where claws should have been were merely red nails. The horns on her head were small, and her hair was the same mousy brown as Samantha’s, if thicker and more curly. Samantha took a breath, tried to speak and failed. Finally, she croaked, “Mom?”

Marie Parker nodded, smiling. “Hi, baby. It feels like forever since I held you.”

“Twenty-five years,” Samantha whispered, too stunned to feel. This was her mother. The one who at first gave her up for something untold, and then fought for her life so hard she Damned herself... “Mom, I–” Samantha choked faintly, trying not to cry.

Marie had tried to bargain with her soul. She had done nothing to deserve her tears! Even when her mother had saved her life, she’d only gotten her into a bigger mess when she’d left the ring for Samantha to find.

“I know,” Marie said. “I deserve whatever anger you bear toward me. But Samantha, I’m so glad you’re here.”

Samantha just stared. “Why?” she asked. “What happened?”

“I don’t know if we have time, darling,” Marie said as she looked around the darkness they floated in, gaze focusing, star by star, until she looked back at Samantha. “If Diego interrupts, I suppose we’ll just pick it up later.”

Samantha looked around. “Where is Diego?”

“I drop kicked him that way,” Marie said, waving vaguely. “He wanted to terrorize you.” Samantha nodded. Marie tapped her elbow as she frowned. “I was very poor, Samantha. Frighteningly so. I had no money, no family, hardly any friends. I was a druggie. I was out of a job, out of an apartment, out of hope.” She chewed on her lip. “You’ve never met my parents because I ran away from home after my father beat me. I was seventeen and desperate.” Her voice was calm, direct, void of self pity or self deprecation.

“It was the middle of December in New York City when Diego found me. I was hypothermic from sleeping under a bench. I could have gone to a shelter, but I was too proud.” She sighed. “When he asked me what I wanted, I said I wanted everything. Clean clothes, a job, a place to live, a husband rich beyond my wildest dreams with a heart of gold. Diego offered all that and more for the soul of my firstborn child.” She laughed, pushing hair out of her face as Samantha stared. “I thought he was joking. I said yes. And so I turned into a modern day Cinderella. Diego gave me a fresh set of clothes, led me to an empty apartment where I took a shower, and then pointed me to a catering company, which just so happened to desperately need a pretty bartender for their soiree for New York’s elite that night. I met your father, we talked for hours on end and he asked me out. He was enamored, he said.”

Marie went quiet, watching the souls around her. “It all went uphill from there, but it never dawned on me the guy who gave me a leg up in the park had been serious about my firstborn child. Not until I found out I was pregnant with you.” She studied the stars again. “Things started happening fast. Your father had no idea, even when an in-betweener cursed me at two months.”

“What do you mean?” Samantha asked.

“We were walking down the street in New Orleans,” Marie said. “And a woman came out of a house, walked right up to us.
 
She was this big black woman, but her voice was so gentle. She looked me dead in the eye and said ‘Did the cold scare you that much? Damnation will scare you more, but even with the ring of God’s covenant on your finger you cannot escape it. Your babe can.’ And then she turned back around and went to sit on the porch.” She sighed. “Diego came to remind me of my debt three days later.”

Samantha nodded, staring at Marie in quiet awe.
 
She’d only ever seen pictures of her mother and here she was. “What did you do?”

Marie laughed. “Denied everything. Ignored him. Pretended like nothing was happening.”

“Did he get mad?”

“He just said it made his job easier.” Marie looked back at Samantha. “And then I remembered what the in-betweener said. I was Damned no matter what I did. But you…you didn’t have to be.” She looked at her hands and Samantha noticed a scar on her ring finger. “So I started studying the occult. I gathered information. I contacted in-betweeners I could find, asking what I could do. Most of them said I had no hope, you were already dead to me and I might as well live with it.” She shook her head. “But then I realized the woman in New Orleans gave me everything I needed.”

“How?” Samantha asked.

“I was Damned no matter what. I knew I couldn’t beat him but with the ring your father gave me, of great value and blessed in marriage… I could lock us up. And so I did. Diego gave us three days together, and I cherished every last moment of my humanity. When it was time, I put you aside and Damned myself, then took Diego’s soul and locked us both in.”

“Touching story, truly, Marie,” someone growled from behind Samantha.

She jumped and turned around, backing toward Marie. A Damned leaned against the darkness as if it were a wall.