Our Lady Chaos, page 47
part #5 of Bloodletter Series
“I’ll have to check. Water?”
“How badly am I hurt?”
The nurse’s smile turned professional. “That’s something to discuss with your doctor.”
“Who is?”
“Doctor Walker. She was your Life Flight physician.”
“Yes, I remember.”
“She took an interest in your case. Admitted you under her care.”
Shannon closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. “Headache.”
“I’ll just bet. Can I get you some cold water?”
Suppressing a sigh, Shannon nodded. “When does Doctor Walker make her rounds?”
“I’m not sure when she will be in. She doesn’t do rounds, per se. She only has a few patients, and with being on call for Life Flight…”
“I understand. Please tell her I’d like to see her as soon as possible.”
“I’d be happy to. In the meantime, there’s someone in the waiting room who’d like to see you. Feeling up to it?”
Benny? Shannon sent. “Who?”
“Your husband, silly. I’ll go get him.”
Shannon nodded and closed her eyes.
5
The twisted little clash of melodies wormed inside his head as he walked, and though Toby tried to ignore it, he found himself anticipating the song, the rhythmic changes, the dissonant notes. It was as if he’d heard the song before, as though the song had grown into his personal earworm.
“Where are you going?”
Toby flinched. The words had been whispered in his ear, like a lover’s endearment. “I’m getting out of here.”
“Are you sure that’s the right way?”
“I suppose you would tell me if I asked you for help?”
“No. Not yet. We have things to do out here.”
“Then, does it matter if I walk in the wrong direction?”
Lily laughed her mechanical machine-gun laugh that went on and on without pausing for breath for the time it took him to walk twenty paces. “It doesn’t matter to me, chavo. I’m immortal.”
Toby hesitated mid-step. “Are we really in a desert, then?” Lily stepped out of thin air beside him, and he felt the warm rush of the air she displaced. She was naked from head to toe, and Toby couldn’t help but gawk at her.
A little smile appeared on her lips, and her orange eyes took a break from whirling and twirling so that they could sparkle with amusement. “See something you like?”
Toby gulped a breath. “Jesus Christ,” he murmured.
“Not quite. I didn’t care for that one. So holy, so righteous.” She stroked her sides, going from her ribcage to her hips. “He could never rock your world the way I can. I’m better than any man, woman, or drug you’ve ever had, Tobes. I can make you forget everything that happened to you as a child—and you will thank me for it. I can give you food. I can give you water. I can give you anything you want. All you have to do is ask for it.”
Toby’s gaze traversed her perfect creamy skin, and while it did, his face burned as though he had a fever. Her breasts rode high on her chest, small and round and perfect. She had thin hips and long, beautiful legs.
“Anything you want, papi.”
He tore his gaze away. Even her cartoon-hair seemed sexy. “You are going to get a sunburn, walking around like that.”
“Want to bet?”
“Could you…”
“Don’t you like me, vato? Am I not your type? I can appear however you’d like. Just—”
“Just ask,” he said. “I know.”
She lay her hand on his arm, and the first thing he noticed was the heat. The desert air was already almost too hot to breathe, but standing next to her was akin to sitting in an open-air forge. Beyond that, his body reacted to her touch as if he had been waiting his entire life for Lily to appear.
“Oh, that’s sweet, Tobikins.” She reached up and patted his cheek, letting her blood-red painted nails trail lasciviously behind.
“I didn’t say anything,” he said.
She flashed a mischievous grin and put her other hand on the waistband of his jeans. “Didn’t you?”
“What the hell are you?” he gasped, fighting the temptation to lean into her and press his lips to hers with all his strength.
“Hmm. I’m going to take that as a compliment.”
6
“Is there more bacon?” Benny asked, going to the refrigerator.
“Yeah, there are a couple of packs in the meat drawer.”
“I’ll help you with breakfast.” Benny opened the fridge door and slid the meat drawer open. He grabbed two packs of bacon and joined Mike at the stove.
“Listen, Benny,” said Mike. “Yesterday was…”
“Yeah, it was,” said Benny. “But I know you are right.”
Coward!
“I wish I weren’t; I really do. This waiting is—”
“Interminable.”
Mike shot him a look and chuckled. “Yes, Mr. Dictionary.”
A small smile lit on Benny’s lips. Are you going to let him diminish you that way? He cleared his throat. “This stress is getting to me. I’ve been arguing with myself all night.”
“Huh.” Mike flashed a wry grin at him. “Me, too.”
“Have you heard anything new about Greg?” Benny asked.
Mike’s gaze darted to the cabinet where his housemates kept a small stash of hard liquor. “No. Anything about Shan?”
Benny cocked his head to the side, resisting the urge to look at the liquor cabinet. “Need a meeting?”
Mike clucked his tongue. “Don’t sugarcoat it, Benny. Just come right out with whatever you’re thinking.” Despite his words, Mike blushed and dropped his gaze to the pan of burned eggs. “Is it obvious?”
You could totally fix that in him. It would be easy to remove the compulsion to drink. Benny shook his head.
“At least there’s that.” Mike peeked at him before turning and throwing the mess he’d made of the eggs in the trash can. “I… Ever since I saw him going into that helicopter, I… The urge has come back—and it’s stronger than ever. I spent the whole ride back here trying to keep from pulling over at one of the bars, trying not to salivate like one of Pavlov’s dogs every time I saw a beer sign.” He got a new carton of eggs from the fridge and came back to the stove.
“If you could…” Benny pressed his lips into a tight line.
“Yeah,” said Mike. “If I could trade places with him, I would do so in a heartbeat.”
“That’s not what I was going to ask.”
“No?”
Oh, for Chrissake, Benny! Don’t ask him! Benny shook his head. “If I could fix it so you could drink… If I could eliminate the addiction, would you want me to?”
Mike stopped adding eggs to the frying pan and slid it off the burner before he turned to Benny. He peered into his face with an intensity that made Benny want to step back. “You can do things like that?”
Benny cut his gaze away. “I…don’t know. I think so.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Maybe.”
“So, that bit about needing to decide my superpower wasn’t as much of a joke as I thought.”
“No, that was all joke. I had no inkling at the time… I’d never considered it seriously until recently.”
“But now?”
Benny stole a quick glance, but Mike had his cop face on, and Benny couldn’t read anything from the set of his face. You don’t need to read his expression, dumbass. Have you forgotten you can read his mind? Benny scrubbed his fingers through his hair. That would be rude.
“Well?” asked Mike in a hard voice.
“It occurred to me that I could, that’s all.”
“How long have you known you could do…” Mike flapped his hands. “Whatever the fuck this is.”
Benny turned his attention to the bacon. “I guess that’s a no, then.”
“You’re damn right it is.” Mike stood stock-still, staring at the side of Benny’s face until it felt as though his cheek would ignite at any moment. “Have you already done something like it? To me? To Greg?” His eyelids narrowed to mere slits. “To Shannon?”
Do you see? Your powers are like that of a god, Benny. You don’t need to justify yourself to someone who has no power at all. Anger tickled the edges of his mind. “I already answered you, Mike.”
“Oh, right.” Mike scowled. “It just occurred to you.”
“I asked if I could help you, Mike.”
“Would you like to ‘help’ me turn hetero?”
Benny tried and failed to suppress a long-winded sigh. “Forget I asked, though I would like to point out that you seemed awfully interested in whether I could teach you these tricks Shannon, Toby, and I can do.”
“That’s different.”
Benny’s laugh was sour. “No, actually, it isn’t. If I knew what the circuit looked like, I could—”
“The circuit? What are we to you? Robots?”
You could be a robot, an angry voice hissed in Benny’s mind. You could be a puppet. He shoved the frying pan to the back burner. “Not hungry anymore.” He turned and stomped into the living room.
7
His pulse thundered in his throat, and he found it hard to draw breath. Lily stood there smiling at him, naked and fractions of an inch away, her body promising him pleasure beyond anything he could imagine. The desert air had dried his mouth, but his nerves turned his tissues into sawdust. “What are you?” he croaked.
She cocked her head to the side and looked him in the eye. Her magnetic eyes seemed to pulse with a regular tempo. She moved her hand to the button of his jeans, spreading her lips a tiny bit.
From within her, came the twining strains of discord he’d heard before, but where he’d been able to resist them before, standing in front of her, gazing into her pulsing eyes, the heat of her flesh baking him, he could resist no longer.
He dropped his head, and in an instant, she was pressed against him, her lips locked on his own, her hands fighting the clasp of his pants. For a moment, he wanted nothing other than to allow her to strip him, nothing more than to plunge into her and revel in the world of Lily, in the world of perfection.
I can give you anything you want. All you have to do is ask for it. The memory of her words worked on him like a bucket of ice water. He stepped back, a rueful grin on his face. She stepped closer, and he stepped back again. “No.”
She dropped her head, and her luxurious candy-colored hair fell forward to hide her face like a waterfall of arterial blood. “It’s okay, kisa. You’ll get used to the idea of us being together.”
The scene of her arrival to the macadam warzone where they’d fought Brigitta and the rest replayed in his mind, the black and red plume of smoke intertwining to form the shape of a woman. “I can see past the illusions of the other demons.” He paused and pursed his lips. “Though I never would have guessed Brigitta had yet another hidden form.”
Lily sniffed and turned away. “Naamah is her name.” She snapped her fingers and was fully dressed in an instant. “And don’t compare us to the mazzikim. It would be like me comparing you to a cow or a pig.”
“Are you and Brigitta and the gold fire lady all the same kind of…”
“Naamah and Abyzou are ifrit. Lamia is a djinn.”
“And what is Lily?”
“I’m the Morning Star, cazador.”
“You’re…Lucifer?”
Lily threw back her head and laughed. “Yeah, bizcocho. I’m the fucking devil.” Her laughter echoed off the surrounding dunes, seeming to fill the entire desert. When she wound down to a smile, she patted his cheek. “Sorry about that, Tobes. I was thinking of the last person I had this discussion with. After I explained, he said, ‘You’re really creepy sometimes, Lily.’ Isn’t that funny?”
“And where is your friend now?” As soon as he asked the question, he knew it was a horrible idea.
All the mirth, all the reminiscence left her face as though someone had drained them out of her. The planes of her face hardened, and her mouth settled into a grim, hateful line. But her eyes were the worst.
Her pupils seemed to expand and contract, swell and subside, pulsing blackness encroaching on the orange. It seemed as though Lily fought to control it, struggled to contain the stygian darkness. “I ate his soul,” she said in an emotionless voice. “He betrayed me.”’
She turned her back on him and stood staring north, her blood-red hair dancing in the desert wind.
After what seemed like a long time, Toby cleared his throat. “Sorry I brought that back to you.” His voice shook with fear. The demons in Oneka Falls—the mazzikim—had scared him from time to time, but this was different.
Lily was different.
8
Benny shoved the door open hard enough to make it bounce back at him. He stepped out onto the terrace, letting the crisp morning air waft across his skin. Why is Mike acting like such an ass? Yeah, his lover is away in Rochester, condition unknown, but so is Shannon.
He walked to the edge of the fieldstone patio and stood with his toes curling into the dew-covered grass, staring out at the lake. I could fix him. I could make him straight, eliminate his addiction. Would that be so wrong?
His mind rebelled at the idea. To tamper with someone’s mind—even with their permission—risked too much. It’s not as though Benny had any training, any education. Anything he did would be a hack.
What’s wrong with that?
What’s wrong with it? What’s right with it?
The sun painted pinks and oranges on the surface of Lake Erie, dancing on the small waves produced by the southward wind. He walked to the landing of the steps that snaked their way down the cliff to Toby’s boat landing. His powerboat sat in its berth, as did four jet skis. Benny sat on the top step, elbows on his knees.
Why have power if the fear of using it is so great? Why not just wish it away. The idea was so foreign, so strange to Benny’s manner of thought that he glanced around, expecting to find someone nearby. But he was alone.
He shook his head and gazed out over the water. He’d never give up his power. The very idea was ludicrous. He’d earned his power, and he meant to use it to one day ensure that no one else would ever suffer as he and his friends had at Herlequin and Brigitta’s hands.
Is that what you’re doing? Is that your goal?
Benny shook his head. Of course! Memories began to flash in his mind’s eye. Images of him wearing a smug smile as he explained his abilities to Eddie and Amanda, of preening for Shannon, of his expression as he used his power to bat at Brigitta. That doesn’t mean anything. That isn’t me.
Isn’t it?
Benny squinted down at the water. The voice in his head sounded less and less like his own. Again, he peered around the backyard of Toby’s mansion on the cliff. No dark figures hid in the slowly disappearing shadows. No animals were visible, let alone animals acting contrary to their natures. There was nothing there.
Shannon?
You don’t need her.
That sealed it. Benny would never have entertained such a thought. Who are you? he sent.
No one answered him.
9
Dan Delo relaxed in a majestic ash tree forty feet above the terrace where Benny Cartwright fumed and glared at the lake. As he walked, the bearded psychic gestured as if in the middle of an animated conversation.
She’s got him, he thought. And McBride has Richards, and all because of me. Glee sparkled in his eyes. This is precisely the kind of currency I needed to buy my way back into Oneka Falls. This is proof of my loyalties.
10
Mike stood next to the rolling cart they’d fancied up to be a mobile bar. His right hand rested lightly on the bottle of scotch, his face blank, his gaze distant and unfocused. After Benny left the kitchen, a feeling of grief and sorrow had descended on him. Greg is gone, he thought.
He could smell something burning but had no idea what. Every time he tried to think of anything but Greg’s demise, every time he tried to distract himself, an image beset him. An image of Greg in a cheap coffin, his eyelids and lips sewn shut. Every time that image flashed through his mind, Mike’s grip on the bottle of scotch tightened.
He hadn’t picked it up yet, though, and that was good. He fought the urge to pick up the bottle and carry it into his bedroom, fought the urge to spin the cap off and pour a gallon of the stuff down his throat.
Time enough for that after I get the call, he thought.
What call, Mike?
The mental voice belonged to Benny, and Mike latched onto it like a life ring. The door to the terrace banged open, and Benny dashed through. He glanced at Mike and shook his head. “Don’t do it. It’s not you.”
Mike turned a numb gaze in his direction, but still, his fingers whitened around the neck of the bottle of Swing.
“Well, it is you, but not all of it. Like all that nonsense before wasn’t me.” Benny stepped to his side and put his hand on top of the one Mike held the scotch bottle with. “We’re being manipulated.”
The word jarred through Mike’s psyche, waking him up, and he jerked his hand away from the booze. “Manipulated?”
“Maybe tempted is a better word.” Benny shook his head. “I can’t understand it. I don’t sense anything, and I can’t spot anyone, but I’ve got this voice in my head… At first, I thought it was my own, you know? But it… It told me to take control of your mind, to change you without your consent.” Benny’s eyes widened. “It told me I don’t need Shannon.”
“Demons,” hissed Mike.
Benny nodded. “I think those two new ones we saw yesterday. Or maybe Brigitta and the Snake-lady.”
“How?” Moving as if against a strong tide, Mike turned away from the liquor cart. “And why haven’t they done this before?”
“Maybe it has to do with Brigitta’s cover.”
“Her cover?”
Benny nodded. “She’s an ifrit—a demon of fire—but she’s always pretended to be an undead demon. She was hiding among the demons of Oneka Falls.”
“Hiding from what?”
“Don’t know.” Benny peered at him, his gaze boring into Mike’s. “Are you okay now? I need to get my phone.”
Mike turned his back on the booze cart and walked toward the kitchen. “Go. I’ll throw the burnt food away.”
