Stone Cold (15 page)

Who was I kidding?

The cold pressure of Eleanor's hand landed on my left wrist. She was there, standing beside me. Not that she could get away. Not that she could stop feeding me, and the hunger devouring me, or break the tie between us.

But she was there to do what she could to help.

I sort of loved her for that.

So here's how it went down. I took a couple of breaths that didn't ruin my lungs, cleared my mind, thought the happy, and hooked up just enough Death magic in my mental fingertips, thumb still pressing on the windpipe. I could send it out like a gentle breeze to tell me if any familiar heartbeat was tapping away in the space around me.

Easy. I'd done it a thousand times before. Did it without thinking most days. Had to push it away and ignore it so every damn heart wasn't thumping against my brain.

So of course I could do it now, right?

First, I felt my heart. Broken, cold, and wrong in just about every way. Ignore that. Move on, move out. Cody's heart, calm, steady. Stronger than almost anyone I'd ever met. Man had a solid grip on living after all those years of being mentally broken. He was a survivor.

Ignore him.

Next, Sunny. Blood pushing too fast, heartbeat too high. Worried about Davy, her heart racing with love and fear. She would be so easy to pluck. So ripe.

Ignore her.

Past her heart, I could feel the beat of Dash's life. A little elevated, but steady. A man who had dealt with all sorts of shit and just kept dealing. He knew what he was in for, maybe was the only one here willing to put me down if I went feral.

Yes, I knew that was an option, a rather high chance, actually. If it came to that, I figured Dash would pull the trigger. Over and over until I stopped moving.

He was a good man, but he worried too damn much.

Ignore him.

Push the magic past them. Fast, faster. Rabbits and birds and snakes and bugs. Kill them all. Crunch and crack and pop of life spilled over my tongue.

Now the warehouse. And in it, human hearts.

The warehouse thumped with the living. People working there, maybe three dozen, all in a ragged concert, pumping with life like good little governmental engines.

That would be enough. Or at least an appetizer for my needs.

No, I wasn't going to kill people unless I had to. I wasn't going to become the monster.

Focus, Flynn.

Guards around the place, at least another dozen. And inside the place. . . .

I could feel him: Davy. Not alive like anyone else in this world. Carved by magic, changed by magic. Not alive, but not rightly dead either. Davy. In a room on the ground floor. Unconscious, I thought. But breathing. Carved up with spells. New spells squirming amid the old.

I nearly lost my concentration from the surprise of finding him. I didn't think it'd be that easy. Didn't think Sunny had really tracked him down.

But he was there.

And so was someone else.

Faint, faint heartbeat, too long between each pump, so close to death there wasn't enough life left in him to fill a thimble.

Terric. That was Terric's heart. I'd know it anywhere.

Terric was in there. Alive.

Concentration slipped, control shattered. Death wanted its due.

I gasped, frantically pulling Death back to me in fear it would touch Terric. Kill Terric. Terric, who was already almost dead.

Magic roared back into me so fast and hard I lost my knees and fell to the ground.

Hands helped me up. Dash's hands.

“Shame?”

“He's there,” I said, pushing his hands away, pushing his help away, not trusting my control. “He's there.”

“Davy?” Sunny asked. “Where?”

“Both,” I said. “Both of them. Bottom floor. Main room.” Dash let go, took all his heat and living and energy I refused to drain away from me.

Good. Smart.

“Guns. We need guns.”

“We have them,” Cody said, walking around to the back of the SUV.

“Are you sure?” Dash asked.

“He's there, Dash,” I said. “Terric's there.”

And I watched something change in him. Dash had thought Terric was dead from the moment he'd found me corpsed out in the kitchen. He hadn't expected us to find Terric. Not alive. Not after all this time.

“Alive,” I added just to make sure he understood. Understood why we needed to be moving. Now. “Get moving, lover boy.”

I didn't have a gun on me. Luckily, Sunny had thought of that. She pressed a Glock in my hand. Good God. Did a loaded weapon need a loaded weapon?

“Can you keep that pointed the right way?” she asked.

“You mean at Eli's head? I got that.”

“Is he in there?” she asked, her heart kicking up a couple of notches. Oh, she wanted him dead.

Get in line, sister.

“I'm not sure,” I lied. “Let's just assume he is.”

“How many guards?” Dash asked.

“As soon as I'm close enough?” I said, striding down the road toward the compound. “None.”

I chambered a round and tipped my head down. Sure, bullets are faster than magic. But Death never needs to reload.

SHAME

No chain-link fence around the lot, just a vast spread of dirt and gravel set out between the low rise of hills.

The warehouse stood in the center of the gravel, a monstrous structure several stories high that might have once been part of a gravel pit operation. Metal on metal on concrete, it appeared mostly abandoned from the outside, but I knew differently. I could count how many lives were ticking down inside those walls.

Security? Yes. Six men spotted me, walking straight down the middle of the parking lot. I wasn't hiding; I wasn't hurrying. I was getting this job done.

Before they could squeeze triggers, I reached down into the center of the Death magic roiling in me and cut the chain.

Six hearts pumped out their last beats. Six lives filled me, fed me, fed the monster inside me. A monster that wanted more.

I knew where Dash and Sunny and Cody were—just behind me, guns drawn, taking care not to be seen. I didn't let the monster touch them, hurt them.

So far the deaths had been silent. So far there had been no need for guns.

That was about to change. I walked up to the front door—a thick slab of metal and warning signs. Pressed my palm there and let Death magic have at it. Rust ate away at the hinges until they crumbled. I pushed and the door fell inward, tripping the alarms.

An explosion of bullets from above hissed around us.

I did not care, did not pause, did not stop. Davy was in this building, and I was bringing him back for Sunny. Terric was in this building, and I was bringing him back for me.

No matter how many people I'd have to kill to make that happen.

The place was set up surprisingly like an actual warehouse. Crates of product stacked down long aisles, forklifts and dollies resting along walls. I didn't see any workers. Could be they didn't have a graveyard shift. Could be they'd seen us coming and run.

I turned left, strode down the aisle. Davy's heart was easy to track, easy to find. More gunshots cracked through the air around us. Didn't matter. The gunmen's hearts were easy to find. Hearts were easy to squeeze, to stop.

I flicked my wrist like throwing a knife. Death magic followed my will, and did what it was meant to do: kill.

Dash shouted behind me. Sunny yelled something back.

More hearts, beating faster, coming our way, stopped by bullets. That was fine with me. Easy to drink their lives, easy to drain them down.

Davy's heart pumped away, leading me on. Death magic stretched out in me, numbing and pushing aside my emotions, my worry, my control of my mind and body.

I pushed back, a part of my mind screaming, a part of my mind knowing I was losing ground to Death, losing control.

Death didn't listen. Death didn't care.

Another left, this time to a hallway that led to a metal door. Locked. I threw magic at it and it buckled, rusted, fell, sending up a cloud of dust.

Death was getting stronger. I was working hard just to stay conscious.

I pushed Death back, shoved the magic away, put it behind me just enough to see where we were.

A storeroom or workroom. Heavily soundproofed, wired up the yang. Magic glyphs painted on the walls up to the ceiling, and across the ceiling, glowing with faint blue light.

The walls were lined with bars. Cages. Jail cells. In each cell were people. The kidnapped, spell-carved people. Mindless as zombies.

In the center of the room stood a larger cage. Magic poured down the bars of the cage, too bright, and smelling of kerosene. I couldn't see what was in that cage, couldn't hear anything from it. If I were operating off my senses alone, I'd say there wasn't anything in there.

But my gut told me otherwise. Said it was an Illusion surrounding that cage. My soul told me who was trapped in there, dying in there.

“Terric?” I whispered, everything in my head going suddenly shock-blank.

“Shame!”

I turned. Dash ran my way. Behind him, Sunny supported a very bloody Cody in her arms.

“Dash! Two o'clock,” Sunny yelled. She turned and half dragged Cody behind something that looked like a generator.

Bullets sprayed around us.

Jesus. Someone was shooting at us.

Dash tackled me. Yes, it hurt. I bitched him out about it as we crawled across stained concrete to a supply shelf.

He was bleeding. So was I. But bullets couldn't kill me. I was already dead.

“Fucking suicide,” Dash yelled as he took aim across the warehouse to where the gunmen were gathered. “Walking right into the line of fire, in a warehouse full of guns. Fucking stupid fucking ass.”

It was possible he was talking about me. Reality was knocking on my brain box and I was doing everything I could to open the door and let it in.

We were surrounded. Injured. Worse, the cage in the middle of the room had taken bullets too. If Terric was in there, if Davy was in there, they could have been hit.

No, they most certainly would have been hit.

Possibly dead. Probably dead.

“Can't just walk into a fucking gunfight in the middle of the enemy's fucking living room,” Dash said.

I'd give him a hard time about his language going to crap when he was being shot at, but, well, we were being shot at.

“Stay here,” I said.

“Fuck that. Where the fuck do you think you're going?” he said.

“To save them,” I said. It was hard to talk, to make my thoughts fit inside words. Death snarled and howled and chuckled behind every pulse beat, behind every breath. It scratched claws against the core of me, against my mind, my sanity.

“Trust me,” I think I said.

“Like hell. You're going to get yourself killed,” Dash said. “They have guns.”

“I'll take care of that. Stay back.”

He reloaded, swearing the entire time, but didn't try to stop me. He put down some covering fire.

I strode out from behind the storage shelf. Death magic reached for hearts. Reached for pulse points. Greedy, hungry, it shut them down one by one, each life feeding the monster in me, making the monster stronger.

Almost stronger than me. Almost out of my control.

The magic-drenched cage was only a few yards away. I made for it as quickly as I could.

“You got this?” Sunny was suddenly at my side. What the hell was she doing here?

Death wanted that. Wanted her. Pulsing bright. Her life burning like a bonfire in the darkness.

No.

“Go back, Sunny,” I said. “Get away from me. Now.”

“Bite me,” she said. “Where's Davy?”

“I'll get him. I'll bring him to you.”
Alive,
I thought while Death magic churned and growled, hungry for killing. “Back off before I lose control.”

“If you kill him, I will kill you, Flynn. Are you listening to me?” She grabbed my arm.

Death magic paused, a predator zeroing in on the scent of prey—on the scent of her.

No.
I closed my eyes, jerked my arm away. Built walls in my mind as fast and hard and solid as I could. Walls I could trap the Death magic behind.

“Go!”

But it was too late. Death magic slipped my hold.

The pulse of Sunny filled me. I tried to pull back, couldn't. Tried to yell, but Death stole my breath.

Son of a bitch.

Death put my hand over hers, gazed in her eyes. At the worry there. The anger, the need.

I tugged and pulled, fought to move my hand away, move my body at all.

No!

And then Death drank her down.

Something inside me broke, shattered like brittle glass beneath a bootheel as I screamed and screamed and watched her die. I couldn't stop it. Couldn't save her.

Death magic did not care.

Sunny slumped to the warehouse floor, empty, dead.

Death used my mouth, my air, to laugh.

Fucking hell.

Death was drunk from the high of killing someone I cared for. My pain, fear, and anger had made her death all the sweeter.

If I had control of my body, I'd be puking.

Instead I focused my thoughts. Quiet, calm. Calm enough to recite a spell. Calm enough to draw the spell in my memory, deep within my mind.

Bind.

Death's heavy gaze turned inward. To me, my life, my soul, and the spell I was drawing.

I concentrated on the Bind spell, making it as whole and real as any other spell I'd ever carved. Then I pushed it outward from my center, to surround my body and the Death magic that held the wheel.

I had no idea if this would work. It probably shouldn't. But if Death was me, then I was it. The magic I called up from deep beneath the earth to fill a spell in me should answer me.

Maybe.

I mentally traced the last line in the Bind spell, angling it to catch up and bind the Death magic possessing me. I filled the spell with the magic that pooled deep in the earth beneath the warehouse.

A shotgun crack whipped through my brain. Pain flashed black, then hot white.

Then I was in control of my body again. Death magic squirmed and chewed at the Bind spell inside my head.

This was not good. Not good at all.

But better than a moment ago.

I wiped the blood off my face and took a second to get my bearings.

No more gunfire. But I could feel more hearts, more people coming, rushing this way. Maybe with bombs, maybe with magic.

They weren't here yet. And when they were, I'd kill them too.

I had to get the hell out of here.

“Shame!” Dash yelled.

I didn't look, didn't answer, too afraid I'd lose control and drink him down.

I jogged to the bars of the cage and wrapped my hands around them. They were filthy with magic, spells tied to spells that refreshed and renewed the current of magic that powered the spells carved into the bars.

It was horrifyingly beautiful. Genius. Someone knew his shit. Knew how to make magic bend to his will.

Eli Collins. He'd made this cage, set this magic. He'd been here.

I searched for his heart, didn't feel it. Not near.

I couldn't break magic and make it do what I wanted. Not without Terric using magic with me. Using the Death inside me was a very bad idea.

But there were other forces that could break a lock. Guns, for instance. I pulled the Glock Sunny had given me . . .

...
don't think about Sunny. Don't think about what Death did to her . . .

...took aim at the lock, and fired.

Unloaded half the clip. Enough bullets, it broke metal and interrupted the stream of spells.

And then it was just a metal cage in the center of a warehouse.

With two men bleeding on the floor.

Davy Silvers.

Terric Conley.

Oh God. No. Terric.

The Bind spell in my head wavered as my concentration slipped.

One step at a time. Get them out of here before the Death magic in my head broke free, or the rush of people coming our way with guns showed up and killed us.

I couldn't carry them both out. Wasn't sure if I could even carry one out. Probably shouldn't touch them at all.

I should get Davy. I'd promised Sunny I would find him, bring him to her.

She was counting on me to come through for her.

...
her eyes wide, as Death pressed my hand over her hand and she crumpled to the floor . . .

I looked around for her.

“Sunny?”

She stood a short distance from me, next to Eleanor. who had gained some slack on her rope. Sunny seemed a little faded, a little see-through, just like Eleanor. Her eyes were wild, and a black rope around her neck tied her to my arm.

I'd caught up her soul just like Eleanor, which meant I'd used her, killed her, and stood aside while Death magic ate her alive.

Fuck. Me.

Eleanor floated over to me and pressed her fingers against my cheek.
Save them,
she said.

Right. Davy and Terric. My guilt, my horror would have to wait.

I walked over to Terric. He was curled on his side, bullet holes in his chest. The pool of blood beneath him was not new.

I knelt, the knees of my jeans soaking up blood, his blood. Turned him onto his back. His face was swollen, bruised. His shirt was bulky from bandages soaked in blood. His bare arms were burned, cut, and bloody.

Not just shot. Torn apart.

Tortured.

Fury caught fire in my chest and burned through me. Not a clean anger. This was a ragged, tearing rage. A rage that would break my hold on Death.

I pressed my hand against Terric's heart, felt the stagnant beat there.

He was alive.

Still alive.

Death magic wasn't going to make him better. Death magic was the worst thing to have around him right now.

I was the worst thing to have around him.

He was dying, even though he carried Life magic. He was in too much pain to heal himself.

I could take that on. Some of that pain. Give the Life magic inside him a chance to work.

I'd never done it before. Never heard of anyone taking on another's wounds like this. Back in the old days, we Proxied pain all the time.

But I was . . . different now. A small part of my mind—probably that thing called “reason”— knew this was a bad idea. A very bad idea.

I didn't care.

I drew a Proxy spell in the air between us, tying it tight. His pain was my pain. Enough of it was mine that his heart could beat. Enough that he could breathe.

I relaxed my hold on Death magic, just enough it could feed the spell, then tightened my fist around that Bind spell again.

The glyph between Terric and me crackled with black lightning. His pain rushed into me.

Holy mother of God, that hurt.

But I'd just killed a few dozen people. Like it or not, I was filled with their lives. I was strong enough to endure his pain.

I pulled Terric's arm up over my shoulder, got him sitting.

Dash was yelling again. I still couldn't understand what he was saying. Caught a couple of words:
hurry
, and
out
, and
now
.