Indelible Ink (11 page)

28

Deena watched as Avi slid to the floor, his eyes staring blankly upward. Ramirez turned with his blade dripping blood and smiled at Deena. He’d seen she was still conscious and he began to advance.

The black ooze that was coming out of her gunshot wound had stopped flowing, and as she watched, it seemed to pull itself back in. The pain turned to numbness flanked by a tingling sensation. It was becoming easier to breathe with every inhalation. Her right arm still seemed heavy, and a glance told her it had turned completely black.

She looked over at the men next to her. The one who’d shot her, the one with a bullet in him, was hanging on. He was leaning on his elbow with his gun still in his hand. The man that she’d fought with and almost beaten was catching his breath and looking from her face to the rapidly closing wound on her belly.

With the wall of the train car to help her, Deena pushed her way to her feet, letting her body make some final adjustments. She reached deep within herself and thought of the words and images she’d used to control the Energy when she was doing work for Marsh. The images of power and the images of strings and ribbons. She thought of the words ‘Sharp’ and ‘Cut’. She pictured a boiling pot bubbling over. Her body, the energy within, felt sluggish, but it was responding.

She let go of the wall as the man with the gun fired. He was five feet away, but she reached for him anyway, commanding the darkness within her to grab him. Long strips of blackness pulled themselves from her arm and wrapped around him. She pulled the man off the ground and slammed him against the wall, breaking the windows and sending spider web lines of cracks in the glass around him. His terrified cry was cut off after a second. Deena could feel the power building in her quickly, faster than she’d ever experienced it.

She heard a shot from the other end of the car; the man next to Ramirez had pulled his weapon and was shooting at her. She could feel the bullets hit her and exit the other side, but it didn’t hurt, it was more of an annoyance. She looked down at the wounds in her body, where the bullets had entered, and saw the holes closing up with black liquid. Deena pulled the first man’s limp body from the windows and threw it at the other end of the car, hitting the newest gunman and pinning him to the floor beneath what was left of his cohort. Ramirez managed to dodge and hide himself between the rows.

Behind Deena, Limb reached out and grabbed her right leg. She looked down at the man as he wrapped both hands around her knee. She thought of thorns and suddenly, thin, black spikes popped out of her jeans, forcing themselves through Limb’s palms and fingers. As he shouted in pain, she extended the points further, until they pierced his face and further into his head. She withdrew the thorns and Limb’s body fell to the floor.

“So I guess you didn’t forget who you are after all,” Ramirez said. He was still advancing on her with his knife, though more slowly. “I thought it was awfully easy for us to beat you.”

No words came to Deena’s mind, she just lashed out. She swung her hand in front of her and a whip’s length of darkness issued from her left hand. She swung it in front of her and it sliced along the windows, leaving a cut in the glass and filling the air with a smell like burning wire.

“I’ve seen your tricks before. I’m not impressed.”

Deena swung her arm again and the black line sliced the tops off the row of seats in front of Ramirez. It had sliced through the metal frames with ease.

Ramirez’s face didn’t register the fear that Deena knew he had to be feeling. Even she was surprised by what she could do. When she’d given him that scar on his face years ago, she’d been unfamiliar with her powers and still learning. But now she was more practiced, more deadly.

Deena reached out with both hands and grabbed Ramirez with the half a dozen tentacles that reached from her of their own volition and threw him into a row of seats behind her. She ran to Avi and dropped to her knees, scooping him up with her dark arms. Her body strength was amazingly increased and she lifted him with little effort. She stared down at him. “Avi? Avi? Talk to me.” The darkness receded from her hand as she put her fingers to his neck to feel for a pulse. She couldn’t find one. “Damn it.” She felt his chest for movement, but all she found there was blood. “No.” She wouldn’t cry. Her body wouldn’t let her. Instead, it covered up her hand in darkness again. She turned to see the man who’d been trapped by the body she threw. He was staring at her in shock. Not moving, his eyes wide.

As she advanced on him, he began shaking his head.

“Let’s go, bitch,” Ramirez had gotten himself out of the seats and was again standing in the aisle. A bloody cut had formed on his chin from his impact. He had his knife in his hand. Deena turned to face him and offhandedly a long jagged tendril shot out from her back and stabbed Ramirez’s other goon. She heard a gurgle and then nothing.

“This is how it’s going to be? Just us?”

When Deena spoke, her voice was almost a sigh. “There won’t be two for long.”

Ramirez began running at her and she did nothing to stop him or slow his progress. He was there in just four steps and she brought her arm up to block his slashing knife hand. She wrapped a tendril around that hand and tied it to her own and soon the blackness was reaching out from all over her body to grab his and bond it to hers. Their faces were just inches apart when she closed her eyes and thought of a buzz saw that would reach out to cut Ramirez to bits.

There was a screech that echoed in Deena’s ears and a thud that shook the whole train car. When Deena opened her eyes, she was flat on her back, looking up at the ceiling of the car. She could see open air through a wide slice in the car above her. There were lines on either side of it where ragged swaths were also cut. She could hear the whistle of air coming in as the train continued on. Deena stood and found a wide cut had been gouged in the car below her. There was blood on the floor, but no sign of Ramirez. She walked toward Avi again, and noticed there were broad slices in the sides of the car as well. Apparently, whatever she’d done, whatever her power had done, had nearly cut the car in half. She got within a few feet of Avi and the car lurched. She heard the high-pitched squeal of metal on metal as someone applied the brakes to stop the train.

Deena put her hands on Avi’s chest and kissed his forehead. She knew her powers still worked and that she was more or less in charge of them. She stared at Avi and considered how she would use those powers to get revenge for Avi and freedom for Harper. She’d done a lot of messy jobs for Marsh, but fighting her way through whatever he threw at her would likely top them all.

She looked at her torn clothing and saw that the Shadow Energy had withdrawn. The wound where she’d been shot was completely gone. It was healed over without a scar or a scratch. Expending that kind of power should have torn her apart. It should have regressed her back into diapers, but she felt fine. No, not fine. Just not like she was slipping back into the abyss of darkness she’d lived in for too long.

29

Deena at 16 the first time around

Deena could hear the words coming out of her mouth, feel her tongue forming the words. The more she looked at this man, the surer she was that she wanted to be a part of his world. She felt like a hand puppet with someone else calling the shots. The idea that Deena was actually angling for a job with this killer was unbelievable, and yet there was some desperate logic in it. They had nowhere to go, and instead of trying to find some menial job and slide by in the ugly world of fast food prep, to Deena working for a killer was the next step. And considering she’d just killed at least one of the criminal’s men, Deena wasn’t sure that was far from wrong. She had turned an accidental meeting into an all-or-nothing prospect. Guided the whole time by pushes and pulls from inside her head. Even if they had managed to get away, Deena feared the man would find them and kill them as witnesses.

“What are you doing?” Harper whispered to Deena. “These guys aren’t fucking around.”

Deena made a show of looking at the blood on her own shirt and the pistol at her side. “Duh.”

Harper still looked vacant and spoke in a low monotone as she turned to the men. “We can do all kinds of things.” She took a moment, and Deena hoped her sister could think of something worthwhile. “I’m a good driver.”

There was still that odd smile on the old man’s face; it looked a little pained as he responded. “My dear, I already have a driver,” he nodded at the other man. “And he’s rather good.”

The other man nodded, a confident smirk on his lips.

“Surely you have other…” Harper jumped as a gunshot cut through the quiet forest.

The big man next to the boss took a step, as his head jerked back. The gun in his hand dropped slowly, and two reports issued from it, the muzzle flashes almost blinding to Harper. Bits of the earth and leaves between the two groups flew up as the shots landed harmlessly on the ground.

Deena’s gun was smoking, pointed level again. “Looks like you’re going to need a lift home,” she said as the driver’s knees gave out beneath him. He fell hard and didn’t get up. Deena turned to her sister and winked. “Good thinking. Great idea.” Deena could feel a difference in herself, like her body was filling with a new sense of purpose and accomplishment. Harper’s face sank.

The old man and his last man standing didn’t change their expressions one bit in light of the new circumstances. None of the carnage seemed to faze them in the least.

“You think this prepares you to come work for me? You think this qualifies you?” The old man gestured around the forest. “You think killing a few poorly-compensated thugs is some sort of initiation? My name is Mr. Marsh. I control a very sizable portion of criminal activities in Los Angeles.”

As the man spoke, Deena had trouble concentrating on what he was saying. She felt compelled to be with him and see to anything he wanted done. She looked at the ground, searching for a weapon one of the nearby men might have dropped in the scuffle, just in case someone else got antsy. She tried to keep her eyes on Mr. Marsh as she did. “I think you’ve got other problems than reading over my resume.” Deena gestured with her own gun.

“What’s to say I don’t let you take me home and then have my doorman take you out into the alley behind my building and shoot you in the back of the head? And your sister, of course.”

Harper looked like she was going to throw up. “All right. Let’s just calm down here and decide how we’re going to end this.”

“I’m calm,” Marsh said. And Deena felt it was true. He wasn’t emotional, didn’t raise his voice.

“Same here,” Deena agreed. Her face was tense and her voice was tight, but her hand didn’t shake and she seemed perfectly in control. There was just one of the man’s goons left; the one he’d called Morgan. He stood with his arms crossed, looking just as passive as his boss.

“I run a number of businesses. Somewhat legitimate businesses. You can work for me in one of those,” Marsh said.

Deena stared at him and thought about the gun in her hand. “I think we can do something more for you.”

Marsh sighed. “What you’ve done here is quite impressive, but puts me in a tight spot as to what to do with the mess. I think girls of your age should take the time to grow up a bit before you so rashly start wishing for things you can’t undo.”

Deena looked around her and knew he was right. “There are already a number of things I can’t undo.”

Marsh nodded and pointed to the car. “I’m offering you a chance. We can each go our separate ways right now, or you can get in this car and come with me. You’re obviously scared and confused and looking for something that will bring you some sort of stability. How long have you been living out here in these God-forsaken woods? The bugs, the animals. Ugh. You want a job? Get in the car and I’ll find something for you to do. It may not be what you want, but it’ll be a roof over your head and a little money until you figure out your life. I’ll admit you have me intrigued.”

“We’re not signing up to be whores or anything. You understand that, right?” Deena said.

“I think we understand each other. That’s an enterprise I’ve never found profitable to get involved with,” Marsh said.

Deena started nodding and was ready to agree when Harper spoke up. “Wait a minute. You’re making a deal for both of us? I get some say in this.” Marsh turned to look at her and raised his eyebrows expectantly. “You say one of your legitimate businesses, what are you talking about?”

“We’ll find something for you to do.”

“For example, where?”

Deena watched them and couldn’t help but be suddenly amused by the situation. It was an eighteen-year-old girl bargaining with a mobster over where he was going to let them work in his organization since they wouldn’t be allowed to kill for him. They could leave. They could walk away right now, just as he said and find some life doing something else. Hiding somewhere else. But she didn’t like living on the run. She couldn’t imagine scrounging for food the way they had been. She’d told him they wouldn’t be whores, but how long could they survive on the streets without turning to that?

And there was something about Marsh that made something within Deena complete. She’d stopped looking for another gun and found she couldn’t take her eyes off of him. His voice had a quality that made her want to listen. Made her want to ingest all of his words, bit by bit.

“I have a restaurant in mid-town. They always need waitresses,” Marsh said. “You can start there and we’ll see where that takes you.”

“Legitimate business?”

“Are you bargaining, now?” Morgan asked. “Take the damn jobs or hit the road.”

Deena glared at him. Something made her want to fight—made her want to fight everyone. She felt like she could attack a whole army and win. Her heart felt like a stone rattling around in her chest and her arm was heavy. She looked at the little dot that had caused her so much concern as she was growing up. It had settled and almost resembled a smiley face.

“I don’t know what you’re doing,” Harper said. “
You
don’t know what you’re doing.”

“Then go home. Tell Dad I’m sorry for whatever shit I may have caused.” For a moment, Harper looked like she might actually turn and go. But then, something sank in her and her shoulders dropped, arms unfolded and her hands fell to her side. “I can’t let you go alone.”