still hadn’t launched into a vicious tirade, which was almost worse. I’d expected her to be angry, but her calm clarity was more unsettling.
“Ace Dante! Open up. I know what you did.” Kenny the Witch pounded on the door. “Open this door or I’ll—”
Shu jumped to her feet and yanked the door open. “Huff and puff, witch?”
Kenny barged past my business partner and stabbed a finger into my face. “I know what you did. Where is she?”
There were many answers to that question, some more painful than others.
Behind the witch, Shu lifted her hand, cupping nothing but air. Her lips moved and her magic stirred. Sprites of energy crackled at the tips of her fingernails. I gave my head a slight shake—a near indiscernible no —and her lips stopped moving, but her eyes shone with the emergence of power, as did the witch’s glare.
Kenny hadn’t looked like much at Cujo’s, just a wide-eyed kid without a clue, but desperation rimmed those wide eyes with rage, and what little juice he had fizzled in a thin aura around him. He might have stolen his magic, but it could still pack a punch.
Shu cocked her head, waiting for my signal. Kenny had no idea of the danger he was in just by showing Shu his back.
I carefully set my drink down, planted my boots on the floor, and slowly got to my feet. There was no easy way to tell him that I’d killed his girlfriend. I was guilty. I remembered her scream, the confusion and fear in her eyes, and I remembered how I’d cut her down as though she was of no consequence. Thanks to Mafdet, the memory was clear as day.
Should I tell him straight, like a slap to the face, or let him down gently? Dressing it up with pretty explanations wouldn’t help Kenny. I’d never been very good at the gentle approach anyway. “For what I did, you have every right to be angry.”
Kenny pulled back and straightened, as though surprised. “The coven says you made eight of us disappear a few years back.” Before I could reply, he begged, “P-please, I don’t care about that. Just…just tell me you found her?”
“I have—”
“Ace,” Shu interrupted, drawing my eye. She shook her head. Don’t tell him, her dark eyes said. But I had to. Not knowing, waiting for her to return, his hope false and brittle, was worse. I couldn’t look him in the eye and lie.
“Julie Carter is dead,” I said. “I stabbed her through the heart and stole her soul. Nothing of her spirit remains in this realm or the next. She’s gone, in the truest sense of the word.”
I’ve seen men crumble before my eyes, watched their faces fall and their fears widen their eyes, and I’ve heard men wail as grief tore out their hearts. Kenny did none of those things. He took a step back and looked me over, or as much of me as he could see behind the desk. Another step back almost brought him into contact with Shu. He muttered something guttural under his breath, and the next thing I knew, my back hit the wall and I fell to my feet, facing a man with murder in his eyes as magic boiled the air around him.
Kenny flung out his right fist, his instincts pulling on the man to fight with his fists, not magic. I saw the punch coming and could have avoided it, could have hit back, could have stopped him with a single word.
His knuckles struck my jaw, whipping my head back, and then a fist buried itself in my gut. I wrapped around the pain, letting it throb hot and deep. It wasn’t enough. A knee landed in my gut, driving the vodka back up my throat.
“More.” I spat to the side and met the witch’s eye.
Tears swam in his eyes, and finally, the pain started to feel real inside. He’d lost someone, someone he loved. I knew that feeling, the intangible pain of loss. I’d felt that grief claw at my insides too. My own pain grew heavy and twisted its barbs in deep. It felt raw, as though the grief was right there with me. So many years, so many dead. Time marched over the bones, turning them to dust.
“Ace?” The
“Ace Dante! Open up. I know what you did.” Kenny the Witch pounded on the door. “Open this door or I’ll—”
Shu jumped to her feet and yanked the door open. “Huff and puff, witch?”
Kenny barged past my business partner and stabbed a finger into my face. “I know what you did. Where is she?”
There were many answers to that question, some more painful than others.
Behind the witch, Shu lifted her hand, cupping nothing but air. Her lips moved and her magic stirred. Sprites of energy crackled at the tips of her fingernails. I gave my head a slight shake—a near indiscernible no —and her lips stopped moving, but her eyes shone with the emergence of power, as did the witch’s glare.
Kenny hadn’t looked like much at Cujo’s, just a wide-eyed kid without a clue, but desperation rimmed those wide eyes with rage, and what little juice he had fizzled in a thin aura around him. He might have stolen his magic, but it could still pack a punch.
Shu cocked her head, waiting for my signal. Kenny had no idea of the danger he was in just by showing Shu his back.
I carefully set my drink down, planted my boots on the floor, and slowly got to my feet. There was no easy way to tell him that I’d killed his girlfriend. I was guilty. I remembered her scream, the confusion and fear in her eyes, and I remembered how I’d cut her down as though she was of no consequence. Thanks to Mafdet, the memory was clear as day.
Should I tell him straight, like a slap to the face, or let him down gently? Dressing it up with pretty explanations wouldn’t help Kenny. I’d never been very good at the gentle approach anyway. “For what I did, you have every right to be angry.”
Kenny pulled back and straightened, as though surprised. “The coven says you made eight of us disappear a few years back.” Before I could reply, he begged, “P-please, I don’t care about that. Just…just tell me you found her?”
“I have—”
“Ace,” Shu interrupted, drawing my eye. She shook her head. Don’t tell him, her dark eyes said. But I had to. Not knowing, waiting for her to return, his hope false and brittle, was worse. I couldn’t look him in the eye and lie.
“Julie Carter is dead,” I said. “I stabbed her through the heart and stole her soul. Nothing of her spirit remains in this realm or the next. She’s gone, in the truest sense of the word.”
I’ve seen men crumble before my eyes, watched their faces fall and their fears widen their eyes, and I’ve heard men wail as grief tore out their hearts. Kenny did none of those things. He took a step back and looked me over, or as much of me as he could see behind the desk. Another step back almost brought him into contact with Shu. He muttered something guttural under his breath, and the next thing I knew, my back hit the wall and I fell to my feet, facing a man with murder in his eyes as magic boiled the air around him.
Kenny flung out his right fist, his instincts pulling on the man to fight with his fists, not magic. I saw the punch coming and could have avoided it, could have hit back, could have stopped him with a single word.
His knuckles struck my jaw, whipping my head back, and then a fist buried itself in my gut. I wrapped around the pain, letting it throb hot and deep. It wasn’t enough. A knee landed in my gut, driving the vodka back up my throat.
“More.” I spat to the side and met the witch’s eye.
Tears swam in his eyes, and finally, the pain started to feel real inside. He’d lost someone, someone he loved. I knew that feeling, the intangible pain of loss. I’d felt that grief claw at my insides too. My own pain grew heavy and twisted its barbs in deep. It felt raw, as though the grief was right there with me. So many years, so many dead. Time marched over the bones, turning them to dust.
“Ace?” The
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