Stone Cold

  Okay, so maybe I had underestimated how close to the edge of insanity he’d been.

  If I let go of Death magic, I’d probably have a second or two of pure bliss as my body became completely and fully alive. After that?

  Probably oblivion. Or obliteration.

  Plus, that would mean Terric had won, Life magic had won.

  Since I am a terrible loser, I wasn’t going to let that happen. Time to tip the scales the best way I knew how: cheat.

  I pulled a knife out of my pocket, cut my left palm. It instantly healed.

  Thanks, Life magic.

  I cut myself again, deeper. Got a few drops of blood before that healed too. Tried to think of my next move.

  Jesus. I was getting a little drunk off all this Soul Complementy magic flying between us.

  Spell. I needed a spell.

  I carved the air with the blood-covered knife. It was not graceful. It was not precise.

  Okay, so it took me two tries, because, damn. The amount of magic in this car. What a way to go.

  Finally got it, got the glyph drawn. Laughed.

  Terric, or rather, that inhuman vessel of magic over there, frowned.

  I set the spell spinning with the tip of my blade.

  Time.

  It wasn’t a spell I liked to use. You had to be connected to the other person in some way for Time to manipulate both you and your opponent’s perception of it. Blood magic was the easiest way to accomplish that.

  But as I said, Ter and I were joined by more than blood.

  I had his soul.

  The other problem here was that Time was a damn hard spell to end. Instead of just canceling the spell, you had to make sure you were coming back into the reality of time exactly in sync with the natural flow of it.

  That was as easy as landing a jumbo jet on the head of a pin.

  Time washed out like a curling pinwheel of smoke, crashed over his head, crashed over mine, surrounded us.

  Since I was the one who had cast the spell, I theoretically had control over whether it would speed things up or slow things down.

  I opted for slow.

  “Terric,” I said as a year crawled by. “You need to listen to me, mate.”

  “You. Attacked. Me.”

  “I thought you’d block. You attacked me back. We’re even. Except you have completely lost your mind. Control yourself, mate. Haul back on that Life magic.”

  “I . . . ,” he started.

  “Have gone crazy,” I finished for him. Then a month or so later, “And if you can’t get a grip, I will shut you down.”

  Something moved behind his eyes, something that looked a lot more like the man I knew. “You’d try,” he said.

  “You bet your weet sass I would,” I said.

  Even though Time was stretching each second so that it felt as if it were days and weeks, the overload of magic and hit of pleasure from using Life and Death was drunking me up a bit.

  “We both put the magic down,” I said. “On three.”

  I lifted my hand, so very, very slowly. He did the same, mirroring my movements.

  “One,” I said.

  “Two.” I waited, held my breath. Wasted a heartbeat or two savoring the high. Needed this to be right. Needed to get the alignment of our reality of time and time’s real reality correct so I didn’t kill us.

  “Three.”

  He canceled Life magic, hauling back on it, controlling it. White fire snaked around his hand, a lightning storm come to rest in his fist.

  While he was doing that, I was wrestling for control of my own magic. Not easy. Not fun. Blackness whipped around me, lashing hard enough to break skin.

  It hurt. Everything hurt.

  So: normal.

  I flicked fingers and broke the Time spell. There was that thunder crack ringing and foot-off-the-cliff lurch of our perception of time readjusting.

  I fell forever.

  I’d missed the landing. I’d screwed it completely.

  Nope. I nailed it.

  We were sitting in the car, along the side of the road. Eventually I could hear the soft patter of rain over my pulse, which beat steady and strong.

  Terric was breathing hard too.

  But neither of us was exploded.

  So: all good.

  “What were you thinking?” he said.

  I gave him a grin, licked the blood off my split lip, wondered how many more little cuts Death magic had left me with this time.

  “You wanted to use magic with me but were afraid we couldn’t control it. Which we did, I’d like to point out. I was tired of listening to you whine about it.”

  “I wasn’t afraid of our control.”

  “Yes. You were. You’d be stupid if you weren’t.”

  He swore softly, didn’t meet my eyes. I wasn’t the one who ususally told the truth in this relationship.

  “So we’re good now, right?” I wiped the side of my face on my arm. No blood. Maybe I’d gotten out of this one relatively unscathed. Or maybe there had been enough Life magic still in me it had healed up all the nicks. I licked my lip again. Blood was gone.

  One point for Life magic, then.

  “No,” Terric said. “We are not good. Using like this . . . uncontrolled . . .”

  “Speak for yourself, mate. I was plenty controlled.”

  He pressed his head back into the headrest and stared out at the rain. “You hit me with Death magic, Shame,” he said. “I could have killed you.”

  “Already dead. Also, good luck with that. Also, also, we’re late for that baby shindig you wanted to go to.”

  He focused on something over my shoulder and out the door, as if he’d just noticed we were still in his car.

  “One last thing,” I said. “I think some of the people passing us called the cops. So getting the hell out of here might be in order. Unless you want to explain that magical explosion you just set off to Detective Stotts?”

  “I set off?” He sat forward, turned the key. The engine purred. “You hit me in the face with Death.” He glanced out his side window. “And you broke my window with my head.”

  “You were the one who wanted an outlet for Life magic so you could be stable around Allie and the baby Beckstrom.”

  “Beckstrom-Jones. They’re hyphenating,” he said. “And there is a difference between Death magic absorbing Life magic and being a dick, Shame.”

  “Don’t I know it?” I said. “If I’d wanted to be a dick, I’d have broken more than one window.”

  “I don’t think that’s how it would go down.”

  “Oh?”

  “Life always wins. Always.”

  I felt the best I had for the last couple weeks. I was pretty sure Life had won this time.

  No need to tell Terric that, though.

  “No, I just went easy on you, mate,” I said. “If it was a fight, a real fight? I’d win.”

  “Why?”

  “Because when it comes right down to it, you won’t cheat to get your way. You’re on the side of heroes, Terric.”

  “And you’re not?”

  I didn’t say anything. I didn’t have to. Hero hadn’t been in my job description since the day I was born.

  Chapter 3

  SHAME

  Allie and Zay’s place out in St. Johns was a three-story farmhouse that backed the Willamette River, and was within spitting distance from the formerly secret crystallized well of magic.

  It was a pretty place with a rock wall fence and a garden they’d expanded again because the Hounds kept planting weird vegetables like bottle gourd, kohlrabi, and rhubarb in it when Allie wasn’t looking. An old apple tree with a tire swing claimed the corner of the yard.

  Hard to imagine two of the most powerful and dangerous magic users in the world lived
here. Hell, few other Soul Complements in the world could come close to challenging their magical mojo. If I had to put my last coin down on two people who would always, no matter the circumstance, come out on top, it was Allie and Zayvion.

  Which is why I found the whole baby-on-the-way panic they had going kind of hilarious.

  Terric parked the car next to several others in the alley behind the house. “Ready?”

  “It’s a baby bath—” I said.

  “Shower.”

  “Whatever. I’ve got nothing on the line here. How ready do I have to be?”

  I pushed out of the car, lit a cigarette, and filled my lungs with smoke. I wanted to roll up on the balls of my feet and stretch, I felt so good. That tussle with Life magic had taken the edge off the hunger inside me, steadied my heartbeat and all my other vital functions. I almost felt normal, human. Sure, it wouldn’t last. But for the moment, it was plenty good enough.

  I waited by the car, smoking, while he tried to pull his head together, tried to line up his thoughts. After he cast magic like that, he had to remind himself what a human did, and how a human acted.

  Which was why we tried not to use magic in big doses, or at all, for that matter. It was just a delay of the inevitable. There was no way to get rid of the magic inside us. All magic came at a price, and we were paying out with our souls every time we used it. One day, Terric would no longer be Terric and I would no longer be whatever I was.

  No rosy future for us. We both knew it.

  We didn’t talk about it.

  He finally got out of the car and paused before shutting the door.

  “Have your keys?” I asked.

  Took him a minute before he answered. “Yes.”

  He was still just standing there. Looked a little lost.

  “Did you bring a gift?”

  He stared at me, and I stared right back. “For the baby? Or Allie, or however this thing works.”

  The last brittle edge of light in his eyes finally slipped away, leaving the deep blue of sanity. And with it, Terric.

  Good. I relaxed a little. It was hell to see him losing ground. I knew one of these days, he wouldn’t come back from our little meetings of magic.

  “It’s in the trunk.” He walked back to get it.

  “See you inside, then.” I headed toward the house.

  The wooden gate between the stone fence had little pink and blue balloons fluttering at the top of it. They’d tied more balloons to the railing of the covered porch and over the doorway.

  I chuckled. It used to be all bullets and battles with these two. Now it was babies and balloons. My, how we’d changed. Well, at least how they’d changed.

  I took the last of the heat out of the cigarette, flicked it into the wet flower bed, and jogged up the steps to the back door.

  Eleanor was already ahead of me, grinning and excited. It didn’t matter if they were dead or alive—women had this thing about babies. Also parties. So today was win-win for her.

  I clomped across the porch, the voices from inside rolling out in that particular music of happiness and friends. I could feel their heartbeats, knew who they belonged to.

  There were about a dozen Hounds in the house. I could hear the rhythm of Nola, Allie’s best friend, Violet, her stepmother, and of course little Daniel, Allie’s only sibling. Zay and Allie were there too, two hearts beating in rhythm.

  Other than that, I quickly picked out Sunny’s pulse and my mum’s.

  Great. My mother was here.

  I paused at the screen door. Took a second to make sure the Death in me was deep-sixed. I hadn’t seen Allie for three months. I hadn’t seen my mum for at least two.

  Allie and Zay never asked why I didn’t come around. They knew. And frankly, this was going to be a short visit. No one wanted to watch what happened when a Death magic user lost control of his hunger in front of a pregnant woman.

  But my mum didn’t care that I was death walking. She insisted I show up at her dinner table occasionally.

  “. . . worry, you got this,” Terric said as he slowly climbed the stairs behind me.

  “What?” I said.

  He paused. Then, “This attention problem of yours? There’s a pill for that.”

  “Shut up.”

  I opened the door and braced myself for the wash of living—the heat, the tangle of emotions, laughter, and conversation.

  I stepped into the kitchen. “Somebody pour me a drink. It’s time to party!”

  My mother, Maeve, turned from where she was pulling a platter of strawberries out of the refrigerator. “There’s no booze at a baby shower. Wipe your feet, then give me a kiss and a hand.”

  “No booze? This isn’t a prebaby kegger?”

  “It’s a party for Allie and the baby, son. Not for you.” She set the strawberries on the counter and turned to give me a long look.

  Mum was looking good, strong, just a sliver of silver catching in her long red hair, which was pulled back away from her face. She had on jeans, and a dark green sweater over a white T-shirt. Resigning as the head of Blood magic, and spending a few months with her boyfriend, Hayden, in Alaska had done good for her.

  I hadn’t seen her happier.

  She put her hands on her hips and tilted her head. “You are looking better, Shamus. Whatever you’ve been doing lately, it sits well with you.”

  “Clean living and dirty work,” I said. I reached over and popped one of the strawberries in my mouth and moaned a little in amazement. “What’s in this?”

  “Cheesecake. No more until after the presents.”

  I swiped two more from the platter before she slapped my hands away.

  “Hello, Maeve,” Terric said as he finally stepped into the room.

  She pointed at me. “There’s a bowl up in that cupboard. Fetch it down. Hello, Terric. How are you?”

  “I thought my indentured servitude ended when you kicked me out of the house,” I muttered.

  “I kicked you out of the house when you were nineteen,” she said.

  “I’m well,” Terric said, a little shakily. “Thank you.”

  Pitiful. The man could not lie to save his life.

  “Nineteen? You did not.” I handed Mum the glass bowl.

  “Yes, I did. You just didn’t listen to me.”

  “Pills,” Terric said.

  I flipped him off.

  “So, is there fun out there?” I grabbed another strawberry while pointing toward the living room. “’Cause the fun in here isn’t.”

  Mum swiveled with the tray and dumped the berries into the bowl, her back to me, blocking my reach. I couldn’t count the number of times she’d done that to try to keep me out of her cooking.

  Unfortunately for her, I was taller than her now.

  “Here,” Terric said, “let me take that for you, Maeve.” He lifted the bowl out of her hands, and out of my reach.

  “Teacher’s pet,” I said.

  “Thank you, Terric,” she said. “There’s a table set out in the dining room. Just put it down anywhere it fits.”

  “Got it,” he said.

  I started after him.

  “Shamus,” Mum said. “Stay for a cup.”

  I stared wistfully after the strawberries but knew better than to push my luck. She had on that serious face that meant we could have this talk either here in the relative privacy of the kitchen or out there in front of everyone.

  I poured myself a cup of coffee, added half a cup of cream, and a few tablespoons of sugar.

  “You’ve been avoiding me,” Mum said as she wiped her hands on a towel and turned to get more food out of the refrigerator. Deli platter. Looked delicious.

  “I’ve been avoiding everyone, Mum.” I took a drink of coffee, then walked over and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. Not long enough for her t
o feel how cold my skin was, or how completely Death filled the shell of me. “Doesn’t mean I don’t love you.”

  That made her smile. I pushed the monster further away. Covered it with my best Shame face. Hoped she wouldn’t see what I was now and how much ground I’d lost.

  “Well, I’m given to understand people who love each other sit down to dinner every once in a while,” she said. “Come by Friday. Bring Terric.”

  “Sure, okay. I’ll do that.” I was so not going to do that.

  “Good,” she said. “See that you do. Now, go on.” She nodded toward the living room. “It’s all friends here.”

  “I know.” That’s what made this harder. I walked through the door.

  The living room was packed with people. Just about every Hound who had stood by Allie when the world had been about to end was lounging around the place.

  Jamar, who still rocked the intellectual-tough-guy look, leaned against the bookcase talking to Sid, who was easy to mistake as a typical middle-aged accountant. Theresa and Beatrice were a study of opposites, Theresa being the kind of gal who looked as if she belonged in a military workout video, and Bea flying her boho, bright-colored scarves, frilly skirt, and easy laughter. I didn’t see her whiskey-soaked boyfriend, Jack, around anywhere.

  But Sunny was here, lingering in the shadows and giving off leave-me-alone vibes. She had stroked her dark hair back off her face into a single braid down her back. She wasn’t wearing a stitch of makeup, had on black jeans, a gray long-sleeve shirt, and a black short jacket. The whole thing together should have made her look badass, which she was because—hello, Blood magic user and head of the Portland Hounds—but as the days and months had marched on without us finding where Eli and the government had taken her boyfriend, Davy, the sorrow was starting to crack her hard exterior, leaving her pale and pained.

  All the Hounds except Sunny were holding plates predictably piled high with food. And also predictably, they all glanced up when I walked into the room.

  I so hated that.

  Dashiell Spade, the guy who used to work for Terric and me, had once said Death magic surrounded me like a dark shadow. He’d said anyone who had a brain in their head could see I was dangerous. Unpredictable.