Mathieu (27 page)

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Authors: Irene Ferris

BOOK: Mathieu
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Jenn
stood and numbly walked back to her husband. “There has got to be another way,” Marcus was repeating. “Dwayne, what other endings did you see?”

“Lots of them. Some bad. Some very bad. Some very, very bad.” Dwayne put his hands in his pockets and began to rock back and forth.

“Dwayne, focus.” Jenn took a deep breath so she too could focus. “Did you see any good endings? How about mediocre? I’ll take that.”

Dwayne’s rocking paused and then started up again. “Maybe. Maybe something kind of good, but only if you redefine ‘good’ into something else.”

“Like what? What did you see?”

“Possibilities. How many times do I have to tell you that?” Dwayne’s voice got shriller and he began to dance in place as he rocked. “Possibilities on possibilities on top of possibilities and I can’t do anything to help anyone and people are gonna die and I can’t stop any of it and…”

“DWAYNE!” Both Jenn and Marcus yelled the name at the same time but Marcus was the one who kept talking after the other man stilled. “What do we do?”

A small weak voice answered him. “Do the right thing.” Amanda’s head was only a few inches from the floor but her eyes were open and clear. “That’s what he told me to tell you: Tell them to do the right thing.” She closed her eyes and rested her head on the floor again.

Dwayne turned to Marcus. “You know what he thinks the right thing is.” He jerked his head again in the direction of the woods. “You know he wants you to hurry.”

“He’s crazier than you are. No offense. His idea of the right thing is completely fucked.” Marcus stood and started pacing.

“No offense taken.” Dwayne shrugged and then spoke again, “There’s a chance—I’m not saying it’s a big one—but a chance that you can make this right. But you’re going to have to sacrifice some of your high and mighty morals to make it happen.”


I think a few lofty ideals are a small sacrifice to make, especially after what he sacrificed to get her back.” Carol wandered over to wrap an arm around Dwayne’s waist. “What do we need to do? We’re all behind you.”

Marcus ran a hand though his sweaty hair, making it stand up in sharp spikes. He took a deep breath, straightened and nodded. “Okay. I’m going to need a shovel and some flashlights. Dwayne and Eddie are with me. Carol, I need your experience with the forbidden knowledge. We need to take an old spell and alter it for our use.

He pointed at Susan and Jenn. “You two need to go find a place that’s open all night and get us some yellow, red and green paint. Enough of it to make a good sized circle and cover the walls down here.” He swiveled his finger to Hugh, pointed once, then twice as he thought. “You need to not be an asshole. I’ve had enough of you for the rest of my life. Get out of my sight. Help your daughter.”

He paused and then pointed back at Dwayne. “And before we do anything else, I need you to brew coffee. The strongest, nastiest, most vile brew you can come up with. It’s going to be a long night and we’ll need it.”

C
hapter Thirty - Seven

There
was as cold and gray and featureless as Mathieu remembered. Possibly even colder.

He knelt in the circle, waiting for his master to return from wherever it had gone. The chains on his wrists bit cruelly into the flesh, but he was able to mostly ignore that pain.

The chain around his neck was another story. It was heavy and tight. Where the chains on his wrists merely bit, the one around his throat burrowed, burying itself into his very soul.

“Did you miss me?” A voice sounded from behind Mathieu.

“Of course.” Mathieu had learned long ago to keep sarcasm from his voice when dealing with Gadreel. Somehow he didn’t think it would work as well with Gaap.

There was dry chuckle from behind. “I can see why some like to keep their property lively. It certainly does add a little spice to an otherwise dreary existence.”

Mathieu kept his eyes to the ground as Gaap walked to stand in front of him. “You realize why we’re here like this, don’t you?”

“Yes.” Mathieu whispered the word and dared a look up through his eyelashes.

Gaap smiled down beatifically. “I figured you would. You seem fairly intelligent for one of your kind. You’d eventually realize that the binding you have isn’t yours at all. You might even think to try and escape it.”

“The thought had occurred,” Mathieu admitted as he twisted his left arm, testing the chain to no avail.


Of course it had. I already knew that.” Gaap knelt down and tipped Mathieu’s chin to look directly in his eyes. “Just like I now know how you got all that lovely power and what you had to do to get it.”

Mathieu met the gaze steadily but did not answer.

Gaap’s smile turned so sharp and cold it seemed to cut the air. “And you won’t be doing such a thing again. I was tempted to keep you lively for a while for the sheer novelty of it. You’re not what I would normally choose for type or gender, but the variety could have been interesting. Sadly, you’re much too dangerous.”

The grip on Mathieu’s chin grew tighter and then shifted to his chain at his throat--pulling it even tighter, making breathing painful. Gaap continued, “You’ve already experienced so much that I’ll have to be especially brutal, I think. I need to drive you so deep inside that you’ll never come back.” It cocked its head and said, “If it makes this any easier for you, I’ll tell you that I’m displeased that I have to do such a thing.”

“Don’t lie on my account,” Mathieu gasped.

The smile only got colder. “You’re not worth a lie. It really is a pity. You would have been interesting for the first few centuries.”

The first blow took Mathieu by surprise, catching him across his temple. He rocked back, caught by his neck. The second blow fell in the same place and this time Gaap released the chain, allowing him to fall backwards while stepping on the shackles on his wrist.

The next blow caused him to fall away and wrench his shoulder because there was no slack in the chain. He heard the small pain sound escape his lips before he realized he’d made it.

Gaap paused and licked blood from its knuckles. “They won’t save you, you know. I don’t know why you keep thinking that.”

Mathieu closed his eyes and focused on the throbbing pain in his face, turning his thoughts inward to ride the waves of sensation.

Hissing in frustration, Gaap kicked him in the ribs. “Stop that. Stop hiding things from me.” Gaap kicked again and Mathieu felt something
snap
in his chest. “They got what they wanted when they got that useless girl back. You’re not worth it. You’re nothing to them.”

Gasping for breath, Mathieu curled into as much of a ball as the chains would allow.
There
was still gray, but now it was limned with red and black around the edges.

Gaap made an irritated noise as it stepped on Mathieu’s left hand, grinding its heel hard into the ground. Mathieu gasped in pain but bit back the cry at the last minute. Gaap continued, “You’re filthy, you know. Even I can see the stain on your soul. No matter how much you wash, no matter how hard you scrub, no matter how clean you are, you’ll always be covered in it.” The heel continued grinding and Mathieu could feel the pop of small bones breaking one by one under the pressure. He concentrated on the sensation, moaning softly in pain. “You’ll always
be
nothing but filth.”

The Demon stepped back, the scales fluttering up and down as it considered its next move. “They don’t want you,” it finally said. “Even if you feel something for them, they feel nothing for you.” It picked Mathieu up by his hair and hissed, “What are you hiding? You have no reason to protect them. You’re nothing but a used, soiled whore to them. If even I can see what you’ve done, what do you think they see? I’m amazed they weren’t nauseated by just looking at you.”

Mathieu struggled to stay on his knees, looked at Gaap with immeasurably old eyes and then spat blood deliberately at the Demon. “Fuck you,” Mathieu rasped.

Gaap paused in surprise and then smiled that same cold, sharp smile. “An excellent idea. After all, that’s what you’re best suited for, isn’t it?” It pushed Mathieu back to the cold, cold ground and straddled his unresisting body.

Mathieu stared at a specific patch of gray to the left of and behind Gaap’s ear. This he could withstand. He’d withstood it countless times with Gadreel, and even though his skin crawled and his soul wept at the thought, he could withstand it again. The cold of the earth seeped up
through
his back and into his chest, making everything seem even more distant.

“Oh, no.” Gaap slapped Mathieu hard, breaking his concentration. “You’re not going anywhere for this.” It leaned forward and delicately lapped blood from Mathieu’s lower lip. “You’re going to stay right here with me.”

Mathieu focused on the Demon and watched with a growing sense of horror as the scales at first undulated and then slowly, gently stood up, revealing what was underneath. At first it seemed to merely be something glistening and white. Then it became clear that each scale covered a small mouth filled with gleaming, razor sharp teeth. Hundreds of them covered Gaap’s body and each mouth stretched forward, reaching and yearning for Mathieu’s flesh. The teeth made small clicking noises as they snapped and closed in mid-air and ropes of saliva flew wildly.

“Now is usually when the screaming starts. I hope you don’t. It’s very tiresome.” Gaap leaned forward and covered Mathieu’s body with its own, bending and contorting to allow each small mouth to make contact.

The pain was immeasurable. Each bite burned as if acid and salt together were being rubbed into the wounds as they were being made. Mathieu struggled against the creature on top of him but the only response was a deep chuckle and more pain as more of his body came into contact with the stretching, yearning mouths. Venom worked its way into his muscles, tracing fire as it went.

Mathieu wasn’t aware that he’d started screaming. He’d felt the tears running down his face, but the pain made the blood roar in his ears so loudly that he could hear nothing else until Gaap grabbed him by the neck and squeezed so that he could no longer breathe. “I told you I loathe screaming,” it gritted into his ear.

Mathieu choked and gagged, the gray world around him now taking on colored spots as well as the hues of black and red. The grip loosened enough for him to take a breath and then tightened again. The
small
mouths ripped at his clothing and gnawed at his flesh as he struggled.

It was only when he glanced down that he realized that Gaap was all hungry mouths and teeth all over its body, even there. His screams were strangled by the hand at his throat, but the assault continued, tender flesh inside torn and rent as cruelly, if not more so, than that on the outside.

He could hear his strangled sobs escaping his throat, but he could no longer see. The world spun into blackness, into a place that he knew well. Deep inside, where there was no pain, no fear, no sensation. He fell into that place inside his mind and pulled the door in after him, cowering in the dark.

He didn’t notice that the violation of his body continued long after his mind was gone, even to the point of being turned onto his stomach so the hungry mouths could have fresh, unmarked flesh. He didn’t notice when Gaap finished and carelessly healed the worst of the hurts so that his shell could live on. He didn’t notice when he was dragged onto his feet and forced to draw the circle to go to their next destination. As far as he knew he was curled into a small, sobbing ball in the dark, praying for the others to hurry. Praying for death.

C
hapter Thirty - Eight

Marcus wiped sweat from his brow and leaned back against the side of the hole he’d dug.

Amanda’s garden spade was small and inefficient but it was all he had and he’d made the best of it. He and Eddie had moved a significant amount of dirt between the two of them while Carol stood and held the flashlight on the side of the house. The beam wavered a little in the dark. If Carol was as tired as he was, it was only to be expected.

“We’re getting close.” Marcus threw the spade out of the hole and dropped down to move the dirt away with his hands. “We have to be careful. I don’t want to ruin the paint.”

Eddie jumped out of the hole behind him and started shifting dirt up and away from Marcus with his hands. “How deep is it?”

“About three feet. Maybe a little more.” Marcus started probing down the side the house with his fingers. “Carol, hold the light here.”

The beam of light had started to slowly creep sideways but at Marcus’ request it jerked back into position. Under his fingers he could see the slightest tinge of red.

“Here. Help me.” At the command, Eddie jumped into the hole and rapidly shoveled the dirt a few inches away from the foundation, leaving a gap for Marcus to brush the layer closest to the house down and away, leaving the painted design intact.

They worked in tense silence until Marcus finally sighed and said, “Okay. Carol, take a look at this and tell me what you think.”

Carol squatted down at the edge of the hole and shone the light on the wall. A circular pattern of reds, greens and yellows seemed to dance
in
the light, and not because the hand holding the flashlight was shaking.

Marcus heard her sharp intake of breath and quietly asked, “Do you know what this is?”

There was a pause before she answered. “I’m pretty sure I can figure it out. I’ve seen something similar in the older records.”

With a nod, Marcus said, “Good. We need to adapt this to use it tonight.”

Carol leaned closer as she studied the symbols. “I’ll need to copy this down and study it first. It could take days to do this right, Marcus. It won’t be tonight.”

“Tonight,” Marcus repeated.

With a sigh, Carol shook her head. “I don’t know enough about the spell yet.”

“Tonight.” Marcus was implacable.

Carol turned the flashlight on his grim face and watched as he winced in the light. “This wasn’t your fault, Marcus. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Marcus paused and then turned away from the light. “I failed in leadership. I failed to read the signs properly.”

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