Slip Song (Devany Miller Series) (6 page)

If he had eyes, he would have rolled them. Not sure how he managed to look so annoyed without them. “It would cost me. You making me your Draw took every last erg of power I had and more. I’m in hock up to my eyeballs with Amara.”

“You can live with it,” Tytan said. “Don’t let him bargain with you. He’s your servant.”

Right. “Fine. Live with it. You want to have your house returned to its former unglory, you need to earn the right.”

The door jamb beside his head splintered. The rafter above mine split, sending a shower of splinters and dust on top of me. I covered my head and leaped out of the way as it crashed to the floor.

Tytan threw him against the wall, which left a dent in the peach-covered plaster the size of Medusa Head’s cranium. “Take him to Earth. He’ll cooperate after a week or two there.”

I didn’t have a week or two. Still, I didn’t want to stick around while Medusa Head had his fit. I formed the hook under his and Tytan’s struggling forms and they dropped through out of sight. I jumped in after them.

We came out downtown, near a homeless shelter. It was freezing, my flesh pebbling with the cold. No, I didn’t like Medusa Head―what was his name? I knew it once. Vasili. Right. I didn’t like Vasili, but I didn’t want him to die of exposure. One problem. He still had tentacles. “How do I camouflage him?”

Tytan put his hand on Medusa Head’s arm. There was a tugging sensation from the middle of my belly as he pulled magic through me. When he was done, Vasili looked like a sixties hippie with dreadlocks. Ty stepped back with a smirk. “Suits you.”

“
Take me back.” He reached forward, to clutch my hand or kiss my ass or something but Tytan blocked his movement. His now brown eyes pleaded. “I’ll be your devoted servant. I’ll do anything you ask. Don’t leave me here, looking like this.”

He sounded so lost, I almost gave in. Almost. “The homeless shelter is there. I’d go get in line if I were you. They only can take in so many each night. I’ll be back in a week to find you. Right here, in seven days. If you aren’t here, I won’t come looking for you and I’ll find someone else to teach me. Understand?”

Shivering, his teeth clacking together, he could only nod hopelessly. Good. I hoped he’d tow the line when I came back for him. He turned and slumped away, his shoulders rounded and small in his thick blue coat.

“
Let’s get out of here.” Tytan reached for me and I backed up a step.

“
No. You don’t need to touch me. I think I can get us back. Then I have to go home.” I shut my eyes and concentrated. It didn’t come as easily here but with the feel of it fresh on my mind the hook did come and we stepped through. All without having to touch him. Yay me.

The Slip was still set to my version of my old hometown. So strange to see it in 3D the way I always saw it in my dreams. “Why, when they were discussing my training, did they suggest I learn from Medusa Head? Why not you?”

“Because spawn aren’t willing to help their parent. It’s all about survival of the fittest up here. If I help you, I’ll never find my soul and then I won’t ever ascend.”

“
Oh.” With that light shining on the situation, I realized how much more dangerous Tytan was than I thought. I eyed him. “Why are you helping me, then?”

“
I already told you why.”

“
Because you’re horny? I don’t think so.”

His eyes clouded. “You would never understand what it was like to be Ravana’s play thing. Ellison and I were her favorites. What you saw her do to me was a gentle pat compared to the stuff she thought up over the years. Perhaps I feel like I owe you for saving my sanity.”

Don’t trust him. Don’t trust him. I chanted that over and over in my head. Abusers often used sad stories to rope in their victims. Tytan was savvy enough to do the same. I wanted to believe him, which also made me wary. “Do you think you could find Arsinua for me? I need her help to get this heart under control and I have no idea where to start looking.”

“
When she wants to hide, she does a damn good job of it. But I will find her. Count on it. I’ll come to you when I do.”

Uh. “Not when my kids are around, please.”

He nodded. “Of course.” A pause. “Will you help me find Cyres?” Seeing the look on my face, he held up his hands. “If you find her and protect her, that will be enough.”

Right. “I’ll try. If I can find her and get her somewhere safe, I’ll do that.”

We stared at each other. I itched to stick my hand out so we could shake on it but damn it I had to stop touching him. Instead I slipped my hands into my back pockets. “I’ll see you in a week, if not sooner.” I formed the hook and stepped through it before he could say or do anything else that might tip my world into further imbalance.

I was back in my room and my eyes went to the clock. Five minutes had gone by, those five minutes spent dumping Vasili off outside the homeless shelter. Yawning hard enough to hurt my jaw, I fell into bed with my clothes on hoping I would go right to sleep.

But there was Tom to think about. Tom and his horrible death. Tom’s golden soul tucked safely inside my body. Who would I talk to about that? Arsinua? She would freak out. Maybe Marantha.

I sat up, my heart thudding at the sudden thought. I’d had Arsinua inside me. Marantha had helped me force Arsinua’s soul into a Skriven construct I’d named Lucy, thereby giving Arsinua a new life.

Could I get Tytan to help me make another Formless One and push Tom’s soul into it? Could I bring him back to life?

I curled into a tight ball, my mind racing along with my heart. The steady beat, beat of my blood through my veins made me feel like it would explode out of my skin at any minute. Making a Formless one was horrible, soul-wrenching work. I’d vowed I would never do it again.

How would I explain Tom’s sudden reappearance?

No. I couldn’t do it. It would be wrong. He was gone.

Still. To give the kids back their father would be the most amazing miracle. I knew how to do the transfer. The question was, could I do it again?

-SIX-

Bethy woke me early, crawling into bed, her face swollen and eyes red. “I hoped it was just a bad dream but it wasn’t, was it?”

I hugged her close and kissed the top of her head. “No. I’m so sorry.” Her ragged breathing tore at me. “He’ll always be with us. In our hearts and memories. We keep him here by talking about him and remembering the moments we spent with him.” My own breath hitched in my chest.

Grief is a funny thing. It stretches time out to agonizing slowness and yet the last moments we had with our loved ones before they died were too short, too brief. To make it worse, Tom and I hadn’t had many nice things to say to each other the last few months. He’d hurt me plenty with his cheating. I’d hurt him by ending our marriage. Why is it we lose sight of the fragility of life so easily? Get angry, stomp off to work, only to never see that person again because of a freak accident, a heart attack, a murder.

“
It won’t always hurt this bad, sweetheart.” When my mom died, I couldn’t cope with her loss. I would forget she was gone and dial her number. I’d drive halfway across town only to remember she’d died. I’d try to remember who my first grade teacher was and realize she wasn’t there to tell me anymore. “I promise.” I didn’t tell her that though it wouldn’t hurt so sharply, it would stay a deep ache inside her forever. She didn’t need to hear that from me—she’d figure it out on her own.

The alarm clock blared. I banged the snooze button, then picked it up to turn it off. We could sleep in today, though there was a lot I needed to do. Just the thought of it all made me want to hide under the covers and stay in bed.

Liam came in looking haggard. He didn’t say a word, just dropped into my bed and tucked his head in the crook of my arm. His hand slipped over Bethy’s and their fingers wove together. I hugged them both, wishing I could find a way to protect them from the world’s hurts. Stupid, I know. It’s the hurts that make us grow and sweeten the good parts of life, right?

In the middle of the hurt, it was hard to imagine anything good.

“I love you guys. Whenever you need to talk, or cry, you can come to me.”

“
Love you too Mom,” Liam said in his too-deep voice. Not my little boy anymore.

Bethy sniffed, her voice clotted. “I love you. Please don’t die, Mom. I don’t want to be an orphan. Who would we live with? We wouldn’t go into foster care, would we?”

“No honey. No. Gramma Alice and Grampa Bill would love to have you. Or Ann. Or Uncle Travis.”

“
Uncle Travis lives in Alaska! I don’t want to live there.” Her voice pitched high and I kissed her again, rubbing her back with my palm.

“
It’s all right, Bethy. Gramma and Grampa live here and they would be glad to keep you. But I’m here and I don’t plan on going anywhere.”

“
Mom. They grabbed him and dragged him to the park. They killed him there in front of us. For a reason.” Liam’s voice was steady, but it wasn’t his natural voice, his happy-go-lucky cadence.

He was right on the money. I just couldn’t tell him how right he was. “Yes. And I’m sure the cops are working hard to figure out why and who they were.” Bethy was trembling. “Why don’t you and I talk about it later, okay?” I tipped my head down to catch his eye, then jerked my eyes toward his sister.

He looked at me then Bethy, and nodded. “Okay.”

“
Okay. Why don’t we go down and get breakfast? I’ll bet Ann is starving and we can show her how we make pink pancakes, okay?”

“
She doesn’t know how to make pink pancakes?” Bethy sounded so incredulous, I smiled despite the sorrow pinned to my heart.

“
I know, it’s a travesty. We really need to educate the poor woman. Come on. Let’s save her.”

“
Mom.” She drew out the word so it had several more syllables than it should. The pain had lifted, at least for now. We went downstairs talking about inconsequential things, forcing light and smiles into our conversation to keep the sadness at bay.

Ann was sipping hot cocoa, bracelets tinkling on each arm. Her eyes went to mine first, gauging the emotional atmosphere, I guessed. I raised my hand behind my kids’ heads and waggled it. So so. She set her mug down as Bethy sat on the bar stool next to her at the kitchen counter. “Do you really not know how to make pink pancakes?”

More jingling as her hand went to her chest. “Pink pancakes? Ew. No.”

“
How could you not know what pink pancakes are? Mom, she does need help.”

I lifted a pan down off the rack. “I told you.”

“I’ve lived a sheltered life,” Ann said.

For a while, all was normal in our kitchen. Liam stirred, Bethany poured and flipped. Ann and I buttered, syruped and ate. When the kids started complaining, I spelled them, making a show of teaching Ann each step with the next batch. She looked as shocked as Bethany wanted her to when I added a packet of Kool-aid to the batter.

When the last bite of pancake disappeared into Liam’s mouth, we dumped everything into the dishwasher and cleaned up our mess. There would be a lot of company later in the day. Tom’s mom was sweet but his dad always managed to say something snarky. First time he’d visited our home after Tom and I married, he stood in the doorway and gazed down the hall. “When I was in the army, I went through the house with white gloves on and if the fingertip turned even the slightest bit grey, we cleaned everything again. Tops of doorjambs included.” He gave me a look I figured meant he didn’t even need to do the white glove trick to know my doorjambs were dirty. Alice had smiled and patted her husband on the chest. “You aren’t in the army any more, Bill. Quit bitching.”

Her strategic use of profanity instantly endeared her to me the first time I ever met them. “Don’t mind Tom’s father. He’s a real son-of-a-bastard.” She looked like Mrs. Claus so when she did let one rip, it usually made an impression.

Someone banging on the door confirmed my fears of visitors. Ann rose. “I can get it. Do you want me to tell them to come back another time?”

I was tempted to say yes. “No, that’s all right. It might be Tom’s parents.” I gave her a quick hug then went out to the door, taking a deep breath before I opened it. Not sure why I didn’t check the peephole first but I didn’t. The man on the porch had pale grey eyes and messy, shoulder length hair. He leaned against the house as if he didn’t have enough strength to stand on his own. Deep in my gut I knew he had something to do with the heart, Midia, or the Slip so I opened my Magic Eye. Brilliant light exploded, dulling everything else in comparison. I slammed shut my senses and stumbled outside, shutting the door behind me. I realized I was barefoot the minute my foot hit a patch of unmelted snow we hadn’t gotten scraped off the stoop. “Who are you?” I danced from foot to foot, breathing shallowly as I tried to ignore the icicles that used to be my feet.

His eyes shone before he bowed his head and fell to his knees. “Mistress. I come. To beg for your protection.”