THE BAZAAR (The Devany Miller Series) (24 page)

With Arsinua breaking down and Neutria cheering me on, I focused my attention on Yarnell. If I had to have a soul, then I was going to collect that evil bastard's first.

A flare of bright pain shot through my skull, then the hook appeared—not as a doorway this time, but a tunnel on the ground. I wondered at the difference, shrugged it off and jumped into the swirling hole at my feet.

TWENTY-EIGHT

I
didn't land. I entered. Yeah, I entered a person. It was such an oogy, awful sensation I would've scrambled out without Neutria holding me in place. She was happy. 

You took a skin.

"No. No." As I spoke I felt the startled jerk of the man whose body I was inside.

Skin. But not skin.

"Oh that's helpful, Neutria."

I felt her mental shrug.
It should take their mind. This one kept his.

A mad urge to giggle burbled up inside me. Ha. I was a walking matryoshka doll. Neutria and Arsinua were in me. I was in—I rummaged around in my host's brain—Yarnell's body. Another question answered. I'd found Yarnell and I could hook to a person. Of course, it wasn't the result I'd wanted. I'd wanted to pop up right before him and snatch the fucker out of the air like a cool ass assassin.

Instead I had invaded his body. "Does this mean I can root around here and snatch his soul?" 

Arsinua refused to talk to me. Neutria didn't know. She had some bloodthirsty suggestions though. The simplest?
Change. Let me free.

Split the guy open. Guts and blood. Spatter and gore. Not  pleasant. And since I wasn't wearing the guy as Neutria would, then what had happened to my body? Was it in stasis somewhere, floating around in the ether? Still by Marantha's house, drooling as my mind dithered here?

My life was shit. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. For a moment I turned that over in my head. Then I laughed and damn it, it felt good. So good I had to hold my belly. It was then I noticed I'd moved Yarnell's arm to his stomach. I had done that.

He said, "What in the Slip?"

That was funny and I laughed harder. Doubled over. Obviously I was having a nervous breakdown. Or would that be a humorous breakdown? Snorting, I realized I'd reached Yarnell's hand up to wipe tears from his cheeks. I blinked his eyes and looked out through them. A group of men and women stared back. The creepy Skriven wasn't there and I was grateful. He might have been able to sense me.

As it was, I could feel Yarnell's body amping up his adrenaline in response to the unknown danger I represented. He wanted to spin and I stopped him. And then I figured out a way to get the souls without killing anyone myself. Technically.

I opened Yarnell's mouth and said, "You are pathetic wastes. The Skriven and I have plans to kill you all.”

Their expressions ranged from astonishment to amusement. I raised Yarnell's hands and conjured up some of his magic, sending it into the chest of the nearest person. It wasn't enough to kill the woman but her clothes caught on fire and faces quickly contorted to hate. Yarnell struggled to take back control of his body. It was embarrassing how easily I kept him from doing so. Then to him, I said, 'Remember me?'

Awash with horror, he managed a strangled, “I’m being possessed,” that I cut off, making him sound like he was about to throw up. I raised his hands for another volley when his terror-stricken mind dredged up pictures of his family.

What the hell kind of bad guy had a family?

But I saw them and worse, felt his love for them as he jabbered in horror. His wife, seven months pregnant with her health failing because she wasn’t getting enough magic to protect the baby. His other son, two years old and also sick. I saw where they lived, how they lived: on the fringes of society, fighting for their food, their homes, their right to life.

Sickened, I let control of him go but it was too late. The woman he’d hit was screaming. Bright blue orbs of energy dripping sparks flashed through the air at him. He threw himself to one side as someone landed a shot, sending a searing bolt of pain through his leg.

I pulled back through the tunnel. In my mind, I opened a door in a corner of the room while flashes of magic cracked the walls and knocked out windows. Arsinua roused herself to help me construct a shield as I crouched behind a thick wooden chest. I covered my mouth with both hands as I watched the battle I’d started.

Yarnell screamed, “It wasn’t me! It was the cow. She somehow—” but he never finished his sentence. Adamante swirled his arms, a sickly green energy flashing between his hands. He flung them forward, stomping his foot to the ground as he blasted Yarnell. It sizzled across his skin, flashing and popping. Wherever it touched, the skin burned away, the stink of burning flesh rising.

Adamante didn’t get to crow about his victory; a screaming woman ran forward and took his feet from under him with a super-charged walking stick decorated with human fingers.

The ring on my finger pulsed. It glowed a malevolent purple and urged me onto the battlefield. It wanted to drink. My stomach lurched. I wanted to go home. Arsinua was right. This was evil and I’d instigated the whole thing.

But I didn’t have a choice, did I? If I wanted my kids to be safe, if I wanted to see them again, I had to collect the souls.

The air was thick with smoke and screams. No one paid me any attention. Creeping behind the shield Arsinua helped me make, I crouched-ran to Yarnell’s body. His mouth was still open, glaring even as he died. I laid my hand on his chest. Felt a rush of energy that hurt like a live-wire. Then the ring dulled. Pulsed again. I saw another body and ran to it. I repeated the procedure and then a sizzle of magic slammed into my side. Not one blast but a steady stream. I tripped over the body and the magic pushed me into the wall as effectively as water from a fireman's hose.

Gasping, I pushed back, trying to get out from under the cloying wetness of it. I drew on the magic of the heart, sent it out in a pulse at my attacker. The stream stopped. I dared look and saw a hole in the wall. A crowd of people ran through it, shoving at each other to get away. I saw a head full of purple dreadlocks vanish. Only one living person remained.

Me.

The ring glowed again. It wanted more. Tough, I told it. I needed two souls and that's what I had. I'd also effectively torn a hole in the Theleoni leadership. Hopefully the group would disband without their rabid boss. I straightened, looked around once more and saw my new boss. Talk about rabid.

She appeared this time in rather unremarkable form for her. No smoke, no shadows. Of course, she was naked, but she looked like a normal naked female. I leaned forward, squinting. Hell, she even had cellulite on her thighs.

"Ah, Devany. My sweet child. So efficient. Tricky, tricky. I said souls, you collected souls. But you didn't kill anything." She sounded disappointed.

I pulled off the ring and tossed it to her. "All yours."

She slipped it onto her finger. A look of ecstasy overcame her face. I averted my gaze. Ick. I wasn't a prude and if it had been a plain old orgasm I might have been less grossed out. But of course, it wasn't. She was coming over death, over eating souls.

"Take it." Her hand blurred, sending the ring spinning at me.

It hit my collar bone hard, making me wince. "I don't want it." A touch on my shoulder made me jump. In a blink, she appeared before me, her mad eyes burning.  

"What are you?"

Pressing my fingers against my temples, I said, "A human mother of two who desperately wants to see her children. So, if you don't mind ..."

"I mind." Madness made her features contort, reminding me of my first look at the Slip. "You took a Skriven as a servant."

"I've been doing what I need to in order to get home. So if it gets me there faster, I'm sorry."

"No need to apologize. It's delicious. Amara was apoplectic." She touched me again, her finger trailing a molten path along my jaw. 

It hurt so badly I imagined blisters were rising in her finger's wake. I kept from yanking myself away. "You weren't going to take from me anymore."

She slowly withdrew her finger. "Not taking. Wondering. You excite me, Devany, mother of two." She bared her teeth. They didn't look human. They looked sharp. "I want to eat you."

What did you do in a situation like this, faced with an insane demon god who wanted to consume you? Flee? Didn't seem a good choice. Fight? Nope. I'd seen what she'd done to Tytan. And if I couldn't beat Tytan, I certainly couldn't hope to win against her. What could I do?

I reached out and traced a figure on her forehead.

Oh yeah, I did it.

Nope. She didn't like it one bit.

For once, though, she didn't have a ready response. She didn't do anything, even while the green magic flashed between us. I gasped. My head felt like it was going to blow apart at the energy suddenly at my disposal. It beat, beat, beat against the shores of my head like an endless ocean.

I was dead. I was. I couldn't even move. My heart fluttered but evened out, my knees wobbled but held. I waited. I let my lids sweep shut.

Still nothing.

Cautiously I opened one eye. Nothing. I opened the other and looked around. Dead bodies. Check. Crazy demon god. Gone. I sat down, which happened to be on a body. I apologized as I moved, even though he was dead and had no use for sorries anymore. Then I hugged my knees to my chest.

Arsinua was shrieking. Even Neutria seemed subdued. Great. I'd freaked out a spider. That had to be a first. I balled up my fists and pressed them against my temples. "Shut. Up."

They did. For once in a long while, I heard nothing. Mouth dry, I pushed myself off the ground, slipping once in a spill of blood. I apologized again, rubbing my palm on my pants to wipe off the liquid. I started to make a hook when I remembered the Bazaar and the people there. Could I save them?

I spun, searching until I found the corridor that led to the horror that was the marketplace. This time I ran, not wanting to be in the room any longer. I would lead the captives out and then I'd let the Abilene police department sort out how they appeared in the warehouse.

My feet slowed when I saw the curtain—it hung in tatters. “No.” Bile burned my throat. “No!” I yanked the curtains aside, screaming as I took in the room. No tents. No victims. No bloodthirsty crowd. Empty. Quiet.

I focused the same way I'd materialized Yarnell's hideout before but no matter how hard I tried the scene before me stayed empty. Tears threatened but I choked them back, forcing them down to the burning pit in my stomach that wouldn't stop aching.

Before I could tip into insanity, I called up a door and focused on my house, on the backyard specifically. I didn't know if it was day or night back home. I didn't know how my kids were, what Tom was doing, what Lucy was doing.

I hoped she hadn't made up with Tom. 

I stepped through the hook, chastising myself for not concentrating on what was important. Liam and Bethany. Bethany and Liam. I stepped out into the yard. Morning, it appeared. I stared at the house, but couldn't make my feet move.  

I needed to get Lucy's attention. Glean from her what had happened in my absence. My hands shook so I stuffed them in my pockets. Looked up at the house and concentrated on Lucy. I was afraid to use the heart for fear of whose attention I would attract.

What in the hell had possessed me to bind her to me? As if I wasn't in enough trouble. A click of the lock made me scramble backward. I didn't have anywhere to hide, so I held my breath, as if that would somehow help explain my presence to anyone but Lucy.

I/Lucy stepped out of the house, my/her brow wrinkled. Wrinkled. Huh. I didn't realize I had that many wrinkles when I frowned. "Lucy, thank goodness. I was hoping it would be you."

"I'm sorry?" My voice sounded puzzled. Her voice. Whatever.

"Thank you so much for being here. How are my kids?" I tried pushing past her but she blocked me.

"I don't know who you are, but you can't come barging in my house."

I frowned. "Excuse me? It's me. The real Devany. Let me in." I tried again to go around her and again she blocked my path, this time with a firm shove.

"I don't know what you're talking about. My name is Devany and you have seconds to get off my property before I call the cops." Her voice—my voice—had risen to a shout. Anytime now, Tom or the kids would hear her and come out to see what was going on.

"Lucy, damn it." I paused, taking a breath. "Sorry. Please, it's been awful but I don't have a right to take that out on you. Thank you for caring for my family." I didn't see any give in her expression. Desperate I said, "Please. I want to see my kids."

Fear blossomed over her features. She looked exactly how I would look if a crazy person had shown up on my doorstep wanting to see my kids. "Tom!"

"No," I moaned. This wasn't supposed to happen. But why was I surprised? Since I'd wandered into the hook way back at the beginning of time, my life had gone down the crapper.

'Tytan. I need you here now.'

To Lucy, I said, "I'm Devany Miller. You are Lucy. You have been filling in for me. You volunteered.” Sorta. “You work for Tytan. The Slip. Remember?"

She shook her head, backing into the house. She swung the door but I shoved my arm through the gap, wincing at the pain. She pushed, wrenching another yelp from me. She shouted at me to go away.

My patience was rapidly deteriorating. "Let me in, Lucy. Give me back my family. Do you hear me?" The heart inside me throbbed as if it wanted me to use it.

Then Tom was there, his face full of concern. "What's going on Dev?"

I shoved at the door, knocking Lucy back a few steps. "Tom, how are Liam and Bethany?"

He frowned at me and his next words floored me, as did the perplexed expression on his face. "Who the hell are you?"