Knell Page 13

  “Napping is the kindest way I can put it.”

  “We should get up there, then,” Benedict said, pushing to his feet as if he was simply on his way to get lunch before the rush started.

  “We don’t have a key to even get up the elevator,” Finn pointed out, knowing it was still tucked in Gil’s pocket.

  “I’ve got one,” Benedict said, as if it were no stranger than carrying a bottle opener on one’s keychain.

  “How?” Finn asked.

  Ignoring the question, Benedict fixed his gaze on Veruca, waiting for her input.

  “Why?” she asked.

  “Well, this isn’t how we wanted things to go, but now she doesn’t really have a choice but to come with us to Fairy, now does she?”

  Veruca frowned up at him, quiet and still for long enough that Finn wondered if she’d make them all sit and wait for the siren to come to, rather than taking action. Finally, she sighed, nodded once, and got to her feet as well.

  “I can’t say if she’ll be out for long, so we should hurry.”

  “As long as we get up there before she wakes up, I can cover it,” Benedict said, patting the leather pack strapped to his left thigh.

  “So we’re just kidnapping this poor girl?” Donald asked, getting to his feet slowly.

  Finn could tell Benedict was the only one without reservations about the situation, but he also knew that whatever Veruca decided would be the end of any discussion.

  “She didn’t really give us a choice,” Veruca said slowly. After a moment, she took a deep breath and pointed to the elevator bay through the doorway between the hotel and the attached café. “Let’s see what the situation is before we start feeling sorry for our collective sense of ethics, okay?”

  ****

  Veruca waited patiently for Gil to open the door, peering around his portly middle to survey the damage done by Finn’s puppeteering. To her surprise, the damage was minimal, confined to a slightly off-center couch and the siren herself. Benedict rushed in, having pulled a capped syringe out of a leather pack of them once they’d stepped up to the door. Without hesitation, he leaned in, pressed the needle to the siren’s arm, and depressed the plunger.

  “Now she won’t wake up for at least an hour. Could be longer, but I’ve used this stuff on werewolves, and it lasts for them, so I’ll assume similar effectiveness. We’ve got time to decide how to proceed, but I think there’s really only one way.”

  “I agree with Benny,” Finn spoke up, surprising Veruca.

  “Why’s that?” she asked, curious for his input.

  “She was pretty angry to have a zombie in her midst, angrier than seems warranted, honestly. If I didn’t know better, I’d say this isn’t the first time someone’s come after her with the undead. I don’t think waiting around for her to wake up is going to go well for us.”

  “We could tie her up, leave, and have Gil talk to her once she comes around,” Donald suggested.

  “To what end?” Veruca asked with a sigh. “She wasn’t keen on listening to us before we attacked her. I think our best bet is to haul her back to Fairy and let Ankyati talk to her. Maybe being faced with someone that powerful, of her own kind, will make her more receptive.”

  “Good call,” Benedict said. Veruca noted a sliver of condescension in his tone but didn’t mention it. “Now the fun part: how do we remove a sleeping siren and a zombie whose face is badly mangled without getting caught?”

  “Luck,” Finn said.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Won’t someone think it’s weird all her stuff is still here?” Finn asked as they forced Gil—clad in a heavy, hooded jacket—to haul the siren out one of the side entrances to the hotel. They’d managed to find a massive bag that her tiny form could be gently folded into, but they’d had to empty her things out of it for her to fit. No one had come running up from the front desk or security so Finn could assume any surveillance was blind to what they were doing.

  “I’ll have someone come collect them if it comes to that,” Veruca said absently. “The real issue’s going to be getting her to Ankyati before she wakes up, while also getting Gil back to the mortuary in a speedy manner.”

  “Why’s he got to get back?” Finn asked, looking the poor sap up and down. “He’s been a help so far. Won’t we need someone to haul her around once we get there?”

  “We can manage. Besides, I’m not sure how getting through the barrier between here and Fairy will affect your necromancy.”

  “Is that a thing?” Donald asked, holding the door open as Gil marched through single-mindedly. Benedict was waiting a few spots down, leaning against the side of the car, looking intently at his phone.

  “I have no idea, but I’d rather not risk it. Will you two handle Gil? I don’t believe you’d be allowed in with us, in any case.”

  “I don’t think I’m equipped to handle Gil,” Donald protested, stopping by the trunk of the car before realizing it was already opened slightly. “I can go with you, and Finn and Benedict can handle Gil.”

  “Finn doesn’t need to be there to control the zombie. He’ll know when it’s time to let go. You’ll be fine.”

  “Are you sure you don’t need—”

  “It’s fine, Donny,” Finn said, stepping forward and clapping Donald on the shoulder encouragingly. “The Fairy hasn’t messed with us yet, and we’re bringing her exactly what she asked for. We’ll be okay, I promise. Oh, careful there.”

  Refocusing on Gil’s movements, Finn had the zombie adjust the siren’s bag so her head wasn’t cramped and her neck wasn’t bent at a right angle. He felt bad about her being closed in there, but he hadn’t been told explicitly that it was okay to free her, so he’d resisted the urge.

  Veruca shut the trunk, turning to face Donald, rubbing her hands briefly down his arms. “Listen to Finn. It’ll be fine.”

  “Plan?” Benedict asked, keys in hand.

  “You and Donald will drive the zombie back to the mortuary and then meet us at the entrance to Fairy. I can get you the location of the portal if—”

  “I know it,” Benedict said, before turning to Donald and jerking his head at the other rental car two spots over. “Shotgun?”

  “Sure,” Donald said with a defeated sigh, taking the keys when they were handed over. He gave Veruca one last worried glance, before frowning. “I can be of more help than you’re letting me, you know.”

  “It’s not about not letting you help,” Veruca said quietly. “It’s about keeping your involvement at an absolute minimum. If I thought you’d go, I’d send you home just to keep you safe.”

  “I wouldn’t,” Donald said, and Finn could see frustration in the taller man.

  “Then be helpful this way,” Veruca said, before turning to Finn. “Come, darling. Let’s make this as fast as possible.”

  “That’s a pair of sentences you’ve never once said to me,” Finn said with a wink.

  ****

  “She’s so heavy,” Finn grumbled as they stepped up to the door graffiti’d into the back of the building.

  “You won’t have to carry her for much longer,” Veruca said as she knocked on the door. According to what she’d been told when she’d contacted Ankyati’s strange puppet servant, that was all she’d have to do. Presumably, magic stopped them from bothering to check when any random human bothered to knock, but Veruca wasn’t going to ask for confirmation.

  The door opened almost immediately and the servant stepped out, turning her gaze blankly on the bag slung uncomfortably over Finn’s narrow shoulder. Taking a moment to compute what she was seeing like some sort of robot, she grabbed the bag, hefted it into her arms, and turned easily around to walk right back into Fairy.

  Veruca and Finn exchanged glances—though his was more impressed than hers—and followed.

  The mist had thickened, the smell of dew and moss wetting the back of Veruca’s throat unpleasantly. She coughed delicately, dismayed when the taste seemed to spread rather than recede, and followed the pupp
et along the same soft, dimly lit path as before.

  Ankyati waited beyond the stream, all smiles with a drink in her spiny hand. She eyeballed the bag curiously as the puppet passed her to drop it at the feet of her rose-bush underlings. Without checking to see if the bag contained anything interesting, she caught Veruca’s eye. “Well, this wasn’t what I expected when I sent you on your way, but I’m assuming it’ll work, one way or another. Is she dead?” Ankyati waved her free hand, took a sip, and then turned to sway over and set the cup on the stump where they’d previously sat. “No, for the moment, it doesn’t matter. Excellent work.”

  “Thank you,” Veruca said, pleased that Ankyati seemed satisfied. “Now. I’ve got my own—”

  “You deserve a reward,” Ankyati said, sauntering over to watch her puppet pull the siren out of the bag. She looked over the smaller creature, crouching down to touch her lightly with one of her less-spiny fingers, and then lifted the same hand to snap in the air. “It’ll be ready for you, if you’ll follow the sprites.”

  “I don’t require another payment, Ankyati,” Veruca said, putting as much into the pronunciation as she could, trying to make sure it matched the way Ankyati herself had said her own name when they’d been introduced.

  The Fairy just chuckled, still smiling down at the siren, appearing curious about the sleeping girl. “But this is something I can promise you’ll like—well, perhaps you won’t like it, but you will want it.” She met Veruca’s eye, her expression sly in a way that sent Veruca’s heart racing.

  Stepping close to Finn, she took his hand, suddenly lost and worried about what the future here in Fairy held.

  Ankyati laughed again, pushing to her gnarled feet and closing in on them both. “You needn’t worry about your boy. He’ll be safe with me while you’re gone. As I’ve said, there are plans afoot and you’re very much part of them. Now, run along, the sprites are waiting.”

  Veruca turned to Finn, holding his gaze for a moment, not comforted even by his encouraging nod and flirty wink.

  “Go, my love. I’ll keep these ladies entertained while you’re gone. Maybe they can teach me to dance. Whadd’ya say, girls?” Finn asked, always at home where lovely ladies were concerned.

  Veruca sighed, feeling the weight of the sprites all around, the pressure slowly morphing as her resolve crumbled. Before she knew it, the sprites were urging her toward a break in the foliage at the back of the clearing. Moving, despite not knowing what was beyond, Veruca held strong, hoping that her self-defense training would be enough to deal with anything that might mistake her for a threat.

  It was a while before she felt anything worth noting. There were creatures here and there, souls both complex and simple, still and in motion, though none seemed interested in Veruca. She moved, ducking branches and leaves, waving away vines, and feeling more frustrated by the moment, wondering what it was that Ankyati had set out to tease her. She was starting to suspect it had been a ruse, just another way to vex a servant of Belial, when something entirely new and strange touched the edges of her power.

  There was a familiarity to it, even as Veruca could tell she’d never come across anything like it before. The color of it was curious, similar to the gold of souls she was used to encountering, but distinct just the same. Rose-tinted and soft, less substantial than the threads that wove within most living beings, it called her, fascinating her enough that she hurried, eager to discover it up close. Not unlike the sprites, this being was fuzzy. There wasn’t a rope she could clearly see, easily grasp and examine with her power, but she could read it, hear it, feel it just the same.

  A weight pressed against her as she closed in and searched for something that she wasn’t even entirely sure her eyes would be able to perceive. Souls weren’t something visible to the naked eye, not glowing knots that she saw the way she saw Finn’s lovely face, but more an extra layer to what her senses were processing.

  “Hello?” Veruca asked, though she could tell from the way the creature appeared to her that it wouldn’t have been able to answer back. It had the same wooly feeling as the sprites, though, so perhaps there was a chance it had the same ability to telegraph communication directly into Veruca’s mind.

  There was no answer, no sense that the creature recognized her presence, but it did shift slightly, as if her being there had some affect.

  “Can you see her?” Ankyati asked, still deep into the brush, making Veruca blink and take stock of her surroundings. At some point she’d stepped into another clearing, this one much smaller than the one in which Finn undoubtedly danced and flirted.

  “I … not exactly. It’s a her?”

  “She has no gender, really, but as I understand, she was often a lady before she was banished. It’s something she got used to. I’ve brought the siren.”

  “I know,” Veruca said absently, still focused on the creature, recognition and worry blossoming inside her. “Is this… Have you had her the whole time?”

  “Of course,” Ankyati said, closing in and having her servants set the siren in the bluish grass. “Though, she can’t stay. Which is why you’re here. And her.”

  Pointing to the siren, Ankyati switched her focus to the imperceptible cloud, gesturing to the girl at her feet.

  “She’ll be awake soon and once you’re all settled, you two can go.”

  “You’re just giving her to me?” Veruca asked, watching the creature shift downward, hovering hesitantly over the siren.

  “Time to come clean: there’s no gift here,” Ankyati said, grinning slyly at Veruca. “Help her, will you?”

  “Help her what?”

  “You’ll figure it out.” Ankyati’s gaze darted beyond Veruca, her eyes narrowing. Sighing, she shook her head, a familiar frustration overtaking her foreign features. “Your boy’s more trouble than he’s worth.”

  Without another word, the Fairy strode off, back into the foliage, leaving Veruca to watch the banshee she’d been seeking coalesce, compacting down to a single, frayed and fuzzy thread, wiggling awkwardly in through the inner corner of the siren’s closed eye.

  ****

  Finn wobbled, struggled, flailed, and finally tried what seemed the least likely to have any effect: he asked the kelp creature that was lovingly caressing him to let him down. Surprisingly, despite the fact that he couldn’t see ears or a head anywhere, it worked. Gently, and with a few longing strokes to his torso, the slimy creature set Finn back on the river bank, retreating into the soupy water almost reluctantly.

  “Nice to meet you,” Finn said, adjusting his suit, re-buttoning where necessary, and twisting his crooked pants around so they weren’t digging into his manhood. The kelp creature shimmied one limb up through the surface and waved Finn’s way daintily before disappearing again. Finn chuckled, turning back toward the clearing, and was startled to find Ankyati had silently reappeared.

  “Oh, ehm, hey,” Finn said, good-naturedly, peering behind her to see if Veruca had come back too. “I met your friend, down there.”

  “It seems to like you,” Ankyati said, leaning in slightly as if inspecting Finn like a novel but deranged propaganda poster tacked to the side of a dingy building. “I’m assuming that’s not uncommon, however.”

  “Nah,” Finn said with a single-shoulder shrug. “I get along pretty well.”

  “You’ve certainly charmed the Reaper.”

  “Ah, now, that was all her doing.” Finn grinned, fully aware he’d get a little sloppy if led into a long discussion of the love he shared with Veruca. “I stumbled into her life and she decided she liked having me around. Veruca’s not the type to be charmed into something she wouldn’t otherwise do on her own. Threatened, maybe, but not charmed.”

  Ankyati’s smile was slow and canny, her gaze fixing intently on Finn’s for longer than was comfortable. After a moment, she laughed, stepping to the side and gesturing toward the area where they’d all initially sat under the guise of a friendly meeting over tea. “You’re more perceptive than you let on, aren�
��t you little necromancer?”

  “Nah,” Finn said with a wave of his hand. “Dumb as a stump and proud of it. Ignorance is bliss, as they say.”

  “So you know nothing about why you’re here, why your lady’s been tasked with finding a banshee and bringing it back to her boss?”

  “I’m just here as arm candy is all,” Finn said, smoothing his hands down his suit, jolting when he hit a patch of slime that he could only be reasonably sure had come from the kelp creature. “I hope this can be washed out.”

  “It’ll dissipate when you two make your way home.”

  “When will that be?” Finn asked, taking a seat in the same spot he had before, noticing the brownie hustling over with a cup of bright green liquid that looked like it had equal chances of being window cleaner or booze.

  “That’s entirely up to your lady. In the meantime, have some Queen’s Tea.” Evidently noticing the discomfort on Finn’s face, Ankyati jerked a brow, slightly irritated by his distrust. “This is not a bargain or an agreement, it is an offering. I trust that, from here on out, you two shall willingly choose to do exactly as I’d like you to do.”

  “Perhaps that makes us friends, then,” Finn said hopefully, though he knew the statement to be naïve.

  Ankyati only smiled.

  ****

  Veruca watched the banshee settle into place in the siren’s chest, the act reminding her of watching a demon slip a bit of borrowed soul into the chest of an individual who’d signed a shiny, new contract. It grasped the threads of life encasing the siren’s heart, gripping tightly, looping and weaving, finding its place like sand settling in an hourglass. It was easy, almost natural at first, though Veruca could see that the power in the banshee’s soul was more intense, brighter and more assertive than the siren’s.

  The siren had, according to Ankyati, been on the brink of waking up but Veruca could tell that was no longer an issue. The eyes that fluttered open were technically those of the siren but she had no control over her own form. The banshee had moved in and her soul—her essence, Veruca reconsidered—had taken over.