Sacrifice (Dylan Hart Odyssey of the Occult) (11 page)

“Calm your tits!” I yelled over the music and jerked my arm
from his grip. “What the shit is this?” I held up the makeshift necklace. “I
was expecting fire and blood and magic. Not jewelry!” I shook it in my fist.
“Fuck, did she go to Jared?”

He snatched it from my grasp. “This,” he shook it back at
me, “is all you’re going to get so deal with it! Or-“

“Or what?” I hissed at him.

“Or find yourself in a world of shit.” He sighed heavily and
closed his eyes. “You know, for such a clever woman you are quite dumb.”

My face contorted with anger.

“You never know when to shut up,” he elaborated. “You are
very good at getting yourself into trouble.”

“Yeah, well, until I met you, I was pretty good at getting
right back out of it. Myths and legends were never part of the bullshit
equation before. It’s like a whole new social sect I have to find a filter for.
At this point, I’ve been involved in more deaths than I’m okay with and I’d
like that not to happen anymore.” I stopped and thought a moment, “With one
exception of course.”

He didn’t say anything, just grabbed me by the hair and pulled
me close to him. Judging by his force and track record for inappropriate
kissing moments, I was half expecting him to lay one on me. Instead, he pulled
me to his chest and held me there while he tied the ugly piece of metal around
my neck.

“Don’t take it off,” he said through clenched teeth into my
ear.

“What the hell is it?”

“I’m pretty certain it’s a Devil’s Trap”

“A what?” I raised one brow in disbelief. A piece of metal
no bigger than a silver dollar was supposed to protect me from the likes of the
devil?
Puh
-lease.

“It’s a talisman. Just wear it.”

“And this is supposed to stop Azelie from hurting me?”

He hesitated too long and I knew he didn’t really know. He
didn’t know shit. Vampire shit maybe; but not voodoo witch shit. I doubted then
that he was even capable of keeping me safe at all. I trusted him not to
intentionally hurt me and allow me to get hurt, but my faith in his ass kicking
abilities was faulty at best. Beside his crossed paths with Azelie ages ago,
his knowledge of the occult and witchcraft seemed no more extensive than a
Google search.
Fuck me in the goat ass.

His eyes darted around at all the people. “We should go.”

“Where?” I asked. “I mean what now? I followed you here
under the impression that I’d be helped, that someone was going to actually do
something. I assisted in kidnapping a grown man and dropping him off to be
slaughtered by his own grandmother. What the fuck do I do now? Wear this piece
of tin and pray Azelie doesn’t come beating down my door one day. Shit, how long
am I supposed to be afraid? How long is this going to go on?”

I wasn’t frantic or panicking, I should have been, but I
wasn’t. It was a legit concern and I was voicing it calmly. It was only a
matter of time before all that changed and I was a raving lunatic. Again.

“Let’s go,” Cyrus said as he held the passenger door open
for me.

“Are you going to answer my question?” I asked as he shoved
me in the car.

He let out a heavy breath and closed the door in my face. I
didn’t think I was being unreasonable. My concerns were valid and deserved an
answer.

I waited until he was buckled and we were safely through the
hoard of people before I let the bitch out. No need to aggravate the driver
while it was still plausible to leave me at Lupe’s doorstep. “Look, I know
you’re trying to help me out. And I understand I’m not the easiest person to
manage.” He started to interrupt, but I didn’t let him. “And I know I brought
all of this on myself; but I’m really trying not to freak the fuck out right
now. It’s been hard and I’m exhausted, and all I want to do is sleep and eat.
Can you please just answer me? What should I expect from here on out?”

He stayed quiet for a long time, just watching the road
ahead. The sun was setting and the golden light shined right through his green
eyes. From my angle, they appeared so vibrant they shimmered yellow. It
reminded me of the black lion and I resisted the urge to change the subject and
pester him about it. I told myself it was only a dream, a manifestation of some
subconscious bullshit hidden in the recesses. Or some shit like that.

“Well?” I pushed.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing what? Nothing will happen?” I hoped.

“Expect nothing. Prepare for anything.”

I should put that on
a fucking t-shirt.

Chapter Nine

With all the protection I was going to get for the night,
there was nothing left to do but try to get some sleep. And a fucking beer.
Against his urging, I made Cyrus drop me off at home. I swore to him I’d just
collect my things and leave right away to go to my mom’s house.

He walked me to my door. My surprisingly new door. I’d half
expected police tape and an armed guard waiting for me, knowing Mike. However,
all I found was a brand spanking new door and a note, in Mike’s own chicken
scratch, to pick up my new house keys at my mom’s.

Fan-fucking-
tastic
.

He walked me to my car, even pulled leaves from my wild
ponytail after my millionth limb attack. Although he pushed, I didn’t let Cyrus
drive me to my mom’s. The last thing I wanted was my mom and Cyrus in the same
room together. In my head, those two would be a worse duo than her and Mike.
Mostly because she’d hate him from the get go. Not because he was an ass, but
because he wasn’t Mike. Although, it could be worth it, Cyrus did allow me to
live a life I choose to live unlike the
Bobbsey
twins
who regularly felt I was incapable of making decisions. Okay, maybe I was.
Regardless, I was pushing thirty and it was my life to fuck up.

“Be safe, please.” Cyrus’s face had concern written all over
it.

“Do I have any other choice? Besides, I have this bad boy
now. I’m like Wonder Woman.
PewPewPew
!” I pretended
to deflect imaginary bullets with my new bling. Laughter was the only thing I
could think of to keep the monsters at bay. The monsters in my own head anyway.
Real monsters would see through my façade and attack me accordingly.

He hugged me without warning and I hugged back. I could
honestly say I didn’t know the man well, but he was a good guy to have around.
So far. Kind of. Well, shit, if this were a movie, I’d be in love him and never
let him leave my side by now, but it wasn’t and that wasn’t going to happen. It
was just not how life worked and I was just not
that
girl.

He didn’t try to kiss me or make a move that said anything
other than I’m your friend and I care about whether you live or die. I was
grateful for that. The day had been too wild for any human being to take, even
Wonder Woman Dylan Hart, and I just didn’t have it in me to show my goodies to
someone new. Regardless of my previous indiscretions, sex just wasn’t on the
docket. Not here, not with Cyrus, not today.

Having no other choice, I got in my car with the intention
of heading to my mom’s for the night. He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes,
and closed my shitty car door behind me. The old bitch started right up. I gave
one last wave before I pulled away from the curb and left him standing there.
Alone. Not him, me. I was alone, truly alone, for the first time in twelve
hours. Last time I was alone, naked dead things came to play.

My heart skipped and thumped but kept right on ticking. The
idea of being joined by one of my headless friends while driving was unnerving
to say the least. I kept my eyes on the road. Memories of every horror flick
I’d ever seen popped in my head at random.

I refused to look in the rearview mirror for fear I’d see a
dead bloody stump atop a pair of lovely pale shoulders. I’m sure there could
have been a fiery crash and bodies everywhere behind me but I wasn’t looking.
No sir.

I made it to my mom’s in record time. I pulled into her
driveway and cringed at the sight of Mike’s SUV parked next to mom’s white
pick-up in the driveway.

“I should have known,” I said out loud to no one but myself.
I closed my eyes and shook my head.

I smelled like death and shit, no joke, and was not in the
mood for either of those two worrywarts. The last thing I needed to pile on to
my shit heap was instructions for living from the peanut gallery.

I didn’t have much to carry in with me, besides my trusty
messenger bag, just my big sweaty ass and my car keys. I had a key to my mom’s
door, but I wouldn’t need it. Her door would be unlocked. It always was.

It was quiet when I walked through the front door. The house
smelled like coffee like it always did. Under the wafts of coffee and musk, was
Mike’s scent. Soap, cologne and spearmint gum. He hated the smell of cigarettes
but he wouldn’t quit. He’d just continue burying the stench with manly perfume
and gum until the day it killed him. The smoke, not the gum. Oh, wouldn’t that
be ironic? Choking on a piece of gum you’re only chewing to hide the smell of
smoke on your breath.

In the living room, pictures of me were plastered on every
wall. Mom and Mike, a match made in heaven. Maybe he should just marry
her
.

“Mom?” I called into the house.

I dropped my keys on the table in the entryway. “Mom?” I
called again.

I heard shuffling from deep in the house. Back bathroom if I
had to guess. “Mike?”

No answer. My soft sneakers hit the carpet and I stopped in
my tracks. Scarier than dead things in your living room? Shoes on Mom’s carpet.
I kicked them off and left them on the small rug she kept by the door for
company shoes. There, where they always were, were my slippers. Nothing
special, but they were mine. I slipped into them and wriggled my toes. It was
the first slice of home and comfort in what seemed like years, but had only
been days.

Another rustling of clothes and carpet rolled through the
house. “Guys?” I asked, but still no answer.

In my slippers, I made my way to the living room. The TV was
off. Only the gold lamp on the other side of the couch was on. The house was so
quiet I could hear the old clock on the mantel tick.

My muscles where achy
and
 
I
felt like I’d been playing tackle
football all day. As I stood in Mom’s living room looking at pictures of me
when I was little, I could literally feel each muscle loosen. I’d been so tense
all day I hadn’t even noticed it in all the bullshit. Not until they started to
relax. I felt safe at home with my mommy. And yes, even Mike. It was where I
grew up. It was where I lived with my dad. My room was just down the hall and
to the left. Mom hadn’t even moved my bed. The dresser even still held my old
clothes. I smiled at a photo of Tatum and me, we must have been twelve; our
teeth were too big for our faces and each of us had God-awful hair. So awkward
and young. Innocent, if you could believe that. Tatum was taller than me then
too. So pretty, even with big teeth. I grabbed my phone, checking for any
missed calls. Nothing. Like literally nothing. It was dead.

“Shit,” I said to myself.

The rustle sound came from the hall behind me. The sound of
someone coming from the back bathroom, like I’d thought.

I palmed my phone and sighed. Feet shuffled across the floor,
my memory told me those feet where likely just coming out of the hall and into
the living room.

“Hey-
“ I
turned to greet my mom, or
Mike, or anyone other than what I met instead.

Bile rose in my throat instantly. I took a breath at the
same time and choked on it. My eyes watered as I choked back my vomit. My legs
trembled, and all safety and security I’d felt was gone, and would likely never
come back.

“Not again,” my shaky voice whispered.

Pale legs and bare feet shuffled along the carpeted floor.
Big boobs with pierced nipples were squished between two slender arms. Hands,
of course, bound by hair. Black. Carpet matched the drapes, if you know what I
mean.

She walked on wobbling legs toward me. She looked like a
baby giraffe on brand new legs. Her gory stump bobbed up and around as she
teetered.

I didn’t remember this incoordination when the lot of them
mobbed through my door. Any other walking corpse I’d witnessed, had been lying
on the ground or seen from afar, and promptly turned to dissipated fog when
disturbed. I knew this was not always the case because I’d successfully, sort
of, put a bullet in quite a few of them.

It moved closer. Wobbly or not, the bitch had forward
momentum. I stepped back, but I didn’t have anywhere to go. There was a wall to
my back and a couch nearly touching my right knee. To my left was the dog bed
and Mom’s TV chair. I eyed the couch as a possible escape. I’d jumped over that
thing plenty of times in my life, but most of them I was a non-smoking,
lightweight adolescent. The dog was fairly new, so the dog bed wasn’t in my
scope of familiarity. It was raised from the ground to help with the big guy’s
aging hips so leaping gracefully over it was not likely. I had no gun. I had no
phone. I had nothing.

Instinctively, but no less surprisingly, I reached for the
piece of metal on my neck. I clutched it like it was a life preserver in the
middle of a stormy ocean.

“Go away,” I said slowly. “You can’t hurt me,” I told the
thing shambling toward me. “You take your stump back to that bitch and let her
know this is finished.
She
is
finished.” I took a deep fulfilling breath. “If I see you or your skank army
again, I’ll bury her.”

The naked thing slowed feet from me. She rocked up on tiptoe
and back to her heels as she stopped completely. I smiled inside. This chunk of
tin tied to me was actually working. I’d willed the dead thing to stop. I felt
my courage gaining. The fear and desperation were rolling away and leaving
behind a raw, tattered bitch in its wake.

“This is finished. You are not allowed here anymore. Go!” I
yelled.

“What are you screaming about?” Mike asked from just outside
the room.

My eyes slid to him for a second. He stood in the shadows
watching me yell at a headless body. I sucked in air and shifted my eyes back
to the dead thing. Or the space the dead thing once occupied. With my free
hand, I pointed to the empty area. No words came out, just noises. Vowel sounds
mostly.

“When did you get here?” he asked, as if nothing out of the
ordinary had occurred.

“Uh…what?” I shook my head and blinked away my confusion.

Did I send her away?
Did I beat the bitch?

“Where have you been?” Mike asked.

I sighed, “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” I looked
around the room, glanced behind the TV, and eyed the space behind Mike. I found
nothing, no trace of death to be found.

“You look like shit.”

“Makes sense,” I agreed. I felt like I looked.

He didn’t say anything else. He crossed the space between us
in three long strides. His arms where around me before I could protest. And
before I could resist, my arms where around him. His wide body made mine seem
small if you could believe it. He’s not fat. He’s not Mr. December either. He’s
just a man. He’s what I think a true man is intended to be shaped like, built
for hunting and protecting.

A sense of relief washed over me. I’d shoved that dead shit
away from me. I’d shoved that bitch away from me. I’d spent a weekend learning
new things. New things about the world. About the underworld. About me. Who I
was. What I did. How I felt. It sucked and I wanted no part of it for the rest
of the night. Sleep was what I needed. Sleep and food. And my mom.

I buried my face in his chest. He let me. We’d only been
this close a few times since we split, and neither of the others ended well.

“I miss you
more than you will ever know,” he said.

And here we are
. It usually started out like that
and just got worse.

“Please shut
up.” I shook my head and pulled myself away from him. All I wanted was a hug. A
safe place to rebuild my courage and prepare myself for the fight I knew was
yet to come.

“No. You’re
not going to stop me this time. I’ve kept my mouth shut too damn long now, and
I’m not going to anymore. I love you, Dylan Hart. Regardless of…anything...fuck,
anyone
, I don’t care. I’ve never
loved another soul more than you and I never will.” He’d said things similar to
this, but this time, his voice held conviction I hadn’t heard before. Perhaps
it was my imminent death and dismemberment he was sensing.

“Yes, you
will. You just have to remove yourself from my ass first. Girls tend to not
like guys who have ex-girlfriends firmly attached to them.” I was making a joke
out of a not so funny situation. Have you come to know me for anything but?
Well, maybe you should. Onion, baby. Just remember that.

 
He stopped me with strong hands on my arms.
“Stop making everything a damn joke.” See? “I won’t stop loving you. No matter
how much of a bitch you choose to be.”

I wasn’t
offended, not in the least. I was acting like a bitch. I’d been acting like a
bitch for going on two years, and he had put up with it every day without
hesitation. Moreover, to my chagrin, he made sure I knew it.

“Shouldn’t
you hate me by now?” Really, he should.
I
promise.

“Why would I
hate you?”

“Do we
really need to get into this discussion again? I’d hate
you
if the roles were reversed. Honestly, if you were me and I you,
you’d likely be dead by now.” That was one-hundred percent factual.