Never (22 page)

“Why would she do that?” Elle asked, interested despite herself.

“It was either that or they both died, yeah? Her execution was one of the only times I ever left the mansion. I hitched a ride and I…I was there, hiding, watching it all. They had Reapers all around ready to force her but Tracey voluntarily knelt down in that circle of theirs, threw her arms wide, and bared her belly. Just waited for her little sister to rip her Light out whole. Kept her eyes open the entire time.”

“This was up at Fort Funston?” Wendy whispered.

“Yes'm. They've got a shed out there, part of—”

“I know it,” Wendy said sharply, forcing down the sick feeling in her gut, remembering how, only the day before, she'd been examining the faded circle on the floor and the gull excrement splattered on the walls. The fact that Wendy'd stripped down and trained in the same spot where her mother killed her aunt was disconcerting and sickening.

“But how…how, after all that, did Mom manage to convince them to let her take control of the Bay Area by herself?” Wendy wondered, shaking free the memory of Jane and Emma gauging her naked body, how they'd discussed her tattoos and what she'd need to become more like them. “I mean, it's ridiculous that after both her
mother and her sister were executed that Elise'd go for something like that.”

Clyde looked at Piotr and smirking knowingly. “That truly is a question for the ages, huh comrade? How does such a black sheep get her way despite all the death that followed her like a plague?”

Piotr frowned. “I do not follow your meaning.”

“Touched any living folk lately?” Clyde asked, holding up a hand and flexing his fingers. “Maybe went in a little deeper than you normally would? You do remember doing that, don't you, comrade?”

“What the hell!” Jon said, voice shaking roughly. He spun back to the beast. It was gone. “What the HELL, Chel!”

“Dreamscape, dummy,” Chel said, patting Jon familiarly on the arm. “Wendy told us about ’em, remember? I'm sorry about the beastie, but I couldn't resist when I realized that we were sharing a dreamscape.”

Jon frowned. “Wendy said it wasn't easy to build a dreamscape. How'd you manage it? Wait, are we still asleep?”

“Yeah, we are.” Her voice dipped as Chel, glancing around, drew Jon closer and whispered. “But here's the thing…I didn't make this place. I woke up here just like you.”

“That's because
I
made it,” murmured a quiet voice from behind them. The twins turned as a woman, white-haired and slim, stepped out from behind the car. She was regal, playing with a thin strand of pearls, and the faded, intricate ink at her neck and wrists spoke louder than any words.
Reaper
.

“You two are quite difficult to trace, by the way,” she added. “Your signatures are much more subtle than Winifred's. She…blazes.”

“You're Elise,” Jon said, fear nailing his feet to the earth. He knew that he ought to do something, spit in her face possibly, but the woman radiated self-assurance and poise. She held all the terrible sway of the unknown.

“You are correct,” Elise said. “Look, my time with you is short. You two are barely napping, we must make this—”

Chel, unburdened with Jon's passive nature, punched Elise in the face.

Elise stumbled back, her hands pressed to her freely flowing nose, eyes wide with shock. “You…you hit me!”

“That is for putting my sister in the hospital, you bitch,” Chel said, shaking her hand. “Come another step closer and I'll tack on chasing us away from San Ramon.”

“She—and now you, apparently—must be kept aside, away from the machinations of the Lady Walker,” Elise growled, her voice muffled from behind her hands. “You cannot expect me to leave souls of such unbridled power just
laying around
where anyone could access you!”

“Speaking as one of the, you know,
owners
of the souls, you can shove it, lady,” Jon protested sharply. “People aren't
things
. You can't just put us where you want us and expect us to be there when you get back. We're not one of your bullied ghosts, Elise. We're—and I really hate saying this—supposed to be
family
. You don't do this to family.”

“I am the matriarch of the Reapers!” Elise snapped, dropping her hands and exposing a clear and untouched face. “If you wish to learn to control your powers, to not begin burning yourself up from the inside, then you need us! You need our help. You need
my
help, to live a long and productive life! All you have to do is follow orders! Is it really that onerous, that difficult?”

“If those orders are coming from you,” Chel pointed out dryly, “yeah, it really is that hard. We weren't raised in your little death-cult, lady. We want nothing from you.”

Elise stilled. “Fine. You have a point. Perhaps you have no need of the Reapers yet. However—”

“However nothing,” Chel growled, crossing her arms over her chest. Jon was startled to realize that the pavement at her feet was
starting to crackle and crack in ever widening circles. “You're in
our
dream, Elise. What do you want? Really want?”

“A trade,” Elise said, pursing her lips as she regarded them steadily. “If your sister won't treat with me, perhaps you will. For all our sakes.”

Chel's reply cracked, whip-like, across the space between them, setting up echoes that hurt Jon's ears. “No deal.”

Elise scowled and Jon realized why Wendy shifted uneasily whenever she spoke of Elise's displeasure. Her expression promised terrible pain for any who would thwart her. “You haven't listened to—”

“Don't want to. If Wendy won't deal with you, then you need to get lost. And now. Before I try to rearrange your face for real.” Chel turned her back on Elise.

“Not even if I will free your friend Edward from his bonds?” Her voice dipped low and Jon shivered at how the words seemed to ooze their way around them, pulling them close. “He's dying. I was at his body only an hour ago. He will not last the night. It's truly a miracle he's lasted this long, you know. Someone has obviously been helping him. Giving him their will.”

“And whose fault is that?” Jon was surprised. He hadn't meant the words to blurt out like that but there they were, hanging in the air, accusing and pointed.
Oh well
, he thought,
in for a penny
. “Get out,” he demanded. The world around them trembled and Jon remembered Wendy telling him that the original dreamer had the real power in a dreamscape. Jon raised his voice. “Get out.” The pavement shook harder. “Get out, Elise! This is my dream! You're not welcome here! GET OUT!”

Jon shoved his hand forward, demanding the Light, cupping all his anger and pain in a ball between his hands. It filled his palms like hot putty before flaring into a blaze of flame so fierce it blinded him. Hands ablaze, Jon knew he had to get rid of the Light before it scarred him.

He blindly blasted at Elise's feet.

Or it would have. When the smoke cleared the pavement was a melted pile of tar and goo, but Elise…

Elise was gone.

None of them moved. Piotr's trick with the ER doctor was still too fresh in their memories, and the fact that Clyde apparently knew Piotr was capable of swaying the living with a touch was disconcerting for all of them. Wendy stared at Clyde, unblinking, wondering just why this man was here, at the Winchester, instead of on the Council and running the city. He seemed to have an innate understanding of the way the Reapers worked that Frank didn't. Why was he
here
instead of
there
?

Piotr cleared his throat. “You are suggesting that I—”

“Suggesting nothing. Stating a fact.”

“Is that possible?” Lily asked, playing with the teacup, running the pads of her fingers along the rim. “For Piotr to sway a Reaper in that manner?”

“Sure it is!” Clyde said jovially. “Mary even bragged to me about it. She made sure that Elise was too busy to notice Piotr sneaking up on her. Afterward Elise had half the family packed and gone within the week, and the other half on their way by time the moon had waned. When a few decided to protest, Mary already had the city sewn up tight, didn't she?”

“Like a shroud,” Piotr agreed, holding out his hands and frowning at his extended fingers. “I have lost so much,” he murmured in a voice so low that Wendy had to strain to hear him. “So much that I am still recalling, relearning, layers and layers of memory that wash upon me in moments, unexpected and often unwanted but still…still needed. And I fear that I am running out of time to discover the rest.”

“Always so impatient, Piotr! Your recollections will return,” Lily assured Piotr firmly, reaching forward and brushing a hand
across his cheek, eyes warm and wise. The gesture was so comforting and kind that Wendy wasn't jealous; her worries over Lily's friendship with Piotr seemed shallow and petty now in the face of that instant, intimate understanding. “They will come in time. Abide until then.”

Clyde turned back to the filthy hole in the wall and reached inside. “Mary left this here a few years back. She said I'd know when it was time to let it go,” Clyde said, drawing back. When he opened his hand a thin chain tumbled from his palm, catching the dim light and glittering in the faint security lights of the Never. A key dangled from the chain.

“What is it?” Wendy asked. For some reason the sight of the key was setting warnings off in her head.

“Nothing much, just a key,” Clyde said, but he was grinning. “I hear tell it opens a door.”

“Truly, for that is the nature of keys,” Lily said dryly. Elle snickered.

Clyde chuckled. “You know what, girl? I like you. You've got spunk.” He cleared his throat and spun the chain so the key swung wildly on the end. “Fine, fine. This key opens up a door out on Russian Hill. Kind of hard for you to make your way there now, I understand, what with the spirit web forest and all, but if you can find the door it goes to, well, there might be some sort of reward in it.”

Piotr shook his head. “We care not for rewards. That is not our goal.”

“Depends on the reward, don't it?” Clyde said, winking, before twisting back to the panel and rifling again in the hole. After a moment he pulled out a plain, wood-handled knife. Wendy squinted and could make out that the weapon existed both in the Never and the living lands. “There's also this. Little knick-knack that found its way down my branch of the family ages ago. I probably should've passed it back to the current branch, but screw ’em. My grandma left it to me. It was mine.”

Lily straightened, cocking her head as he held the blade up, glinting in the security lights. Clyde caught the movement; he smirked at Lily and held out the knife. “Go on, girl. Take it. It's a funny little trinket, yeah? It'll be solid for you just as it's solid for me.”

Frowning, Lily took the knife from him, holding it up and out as she examined it so that Wendy, leaning forward, could get a closer look. It looked like a basic knife, nothing more, a tarnished blade and wooden handle with no fancy carving or intricate knots to indicate its origin. When Wendy sat back, sharing a puzzled look with Lily, Lily then ran a finger along the dull edge and said, “Even though it can be wielded in the living lands, this knife is still worse than useless to us. What is the point? Please, elaborate.”

“Who knows? The Reaper with the funny hair was sure interested in that key, though. Kind of demanding little thing. I don't cotton to little girls ordering me around, mind, but she knew her history right enough.”

“Funny hair?” Wendy asked. It was the second time Clyde had mentioned the Reaper's hair. “What was funny about it?”

“The color.” Chuckling, Clyde shook his head. “I see some strange ones come through this place ever day but her hair was bluer than berries and bonnets, m'dear. Bluer than a summer sky.”

“Jane,” Wendy groaned, burying her face in her hands. “God, she gets around.”

“God ain't got nothing to do with it, kid. I told her to go to hell.” Clyde tossed the key and chain to Wendy, who reflexively caught it and stuffed the chain in a pocket.

“Did she?” Lily asked, grinning and rolling the handle of the knife in her palms. Wendy was glad Lily was testing its weight; if any of them could make magic with a blade it'd be Lily. It made her feel better to know Lily had Piotr's back with such a weapon. It eased Wendy's mind.

“She left pretty quickly, at that. And now, kiddies, our time is done. I have to make sure all the holes in the property are nice and closed. I don't want any Walkers wandering in. Especially now that the Lady Walker is out and about.”

Elle patted her pincurls primly, sneering, “Well maybe if you rethought your ‘not letting us stay’ stance, you wouldn't have that problem, huh? Wendy here might be temporarily neutered, but her kid sister and brother are both as natural as blooming blossoms now. Her kid sister took out one of those creatures all by herself not two hours ago! Food for thought, old man. You should let them stay.”

“Oh really? That
is
interesting news,” Jane said, stepping from the hallway leading into the dining room with a dark, vicious smile. She sinuously strode forward, tilting her head forward so that her hair fell across her forehead, obscuring her eyes. “I didn't have proof before—just a hunch—and look, it paid off! A whole
family
of blood traitors! Goody!”

“Oh lovely,” Elle said, sliding to her feet with the grace of a dancer, “the bitch returneth.”

Wendy stood also, mimicking Elle's movements. Together they squared their shoulders and circled the Reaper, attempting to hem her in. If their positioning bothered her, Jane didn't let it show. Rolling her eyes at Wendy, Jane rested one fist on her hip, her artistically shredded shirt swaying with the motion. Wendy tried to ignore the way the motion exposed the intricate swirl of tattoos that swirled all the way to her navel. Some were puffy and fresh-inked, the new scabs cracking around the edges. “Such bravado! Such gall. Do you think that I'd bother with the likes of you people if I was worried that you could hurt me?”

“What the
hell
are you doing here, Jane?” Wendy demanded, glaring at Clyde.

“Don't look at me,” he said, holding up his hands and frowning at Jane. “Last I checked, this piece of baggage was high-tailing it out of here.”

“I had a feeling,” Jane said to Clyde, “when I realized my timing was off and you genuinely hadn't seen Wendy. Well, I thought that maybe our fugitives here might come visit you after I'd left. Plus, how many chances does a girl get to tour this place at night? It's spooky as he—” Jane yelped and dodged backward as Lily, taking advantage of the lull in the conversation darted forward and slashed at Jane's throat.

“Oh, you skank,” Jane cried, massaging her neck. “You scratched me! Barely but still…” Then she frowned deeply, probing her skin with the tips of her fingers. “Wait a sec…
how
did you—”

“Cutting you is the point,” Lily said and spun left, kicking out and forcing Jane back a step.

Jane, scowling now, balled her fists and the Light began to gather in her palms. “Oh it's on like Donkey Kong. Come on, let's see what you got.”

“Stab her, Lily!” Piotr ordered. “In the shoulder, in the arm…where doesn't matter, but cut her!”

Moving like liquid, Lily shot forward in a precisely timed roll and sliced across Jane's forearm as she came up and bounded to her feet. Jane yelped and the Light blazed for a brief moment before dying down.

“What the…oh you mother—”

The Light blazed again…and petered out, the normally brilliant glow only a faint ember at the tips of her fingers. Jane shook her arm as the Light sputtered, expression swerving from annoyed to frightened to pissed all in a split second.

“What's happening?” Wendy demanded and Jane's lips curled back from her teeth and her eyes darkened. She was
furious
. “Piotr?”

“I recognize the blade now,” Piotr explained, loud and insistent, grinning at Jane like a shark as he spoke. His hand was pressed flat against his chest again; Wendy could see the pain in his eyes. “I recognize it and know it for what it is. The effect will not last long, Lily! Press your advantage!”

Piotr didn't need to tell her twice. Spinning the blade expertly in one hand, Lily darted forward again and Jane, unable to call on her Light to lull Lily with a siren song, was forced to dodge again. Elle, smirking, reached to her shoulder for her arrows to help, only to find them gone. Wendy groaned; now she remembered that they'd all left the rest of their weapons out front on Clyde's orders.

“What happened?” Elle demanded of Piotr, edging toward the door and her weaponry, but unwilling to not watch Lily's fight. “What'd that thing do to her?”

“It's cut her off from her Light,” Wendy said. “But how? Why?”

“How is for another day,” Piotr said. “It matters not, you have my word on this. Why? It is a cursed thing, taken from the world by the Reapers to protect their own skin. A murderer's blade, it only works for a short time. However brief though it may be, that time is often enough.” His hand reached up and brushed his shoulder.

“Pete, you know more than you're letting on,” Elle grumbled.

“According to the Reapers, he always has,” Clyde said, scowling at the way Lily and Jane circled one another and the way Wendy and Elle had flanked to the edges of the room. Jane wasn't giving as good as she got but she was managing to keep Lily from cutting her again. “Part of being unending and all that.”

Suddenly Jane smiled and straightened.

Wendy knew that look.

“LILY!” she shouted, sprinting forward, “GET DOWN!”

The blast of dark Light was like inhaling ice. Wendy tried to scream and failed, feeling the cold roll over her in a freezing wave, the sheer intensity of it drawing the air from her lungs and flinging her back.

Spun around, Wendy's head cracked against the doorway. She tumbled to the floor and Jane's foot clipped through her face as Jane fled through the doorway. Across the room Clyde shoved open the door and Piotr and Elle ran through—Elle shouting for Jon to fetch her bow and Piotr shouting for Chel.

Wendy, catching her breath, forced herself to stagger to her feet as Lily, running fleetly and brandishing the knife, slid around Wendy and ran after Jane past glassed in rooms and doors, sprinting all the way to the grand ballroom.

Clyde, chasing Lily, shoved Wendy aside and shouted, “Don't break anything! DON'T BREAK ANYTHING!”

The ballroom was better lit than the dining room. The glinting lights reflected off the fresh-polished wooden floors and walls and ceiling even in the Never. Wendy, limping after Clyde, stumbled aside as Lily kicked out and Jane staggered back, nearly elbowing Wendy in the face. Wendy made a belated grab for Jane, willing to risk both the burning heat of the girl and the freezing cold of the dark Light, but Jane was too quick and twisted out of reach.

Dark Light. Dark Light.

Wiping the back of her hand across her mouth and wincing in pain as her bruised and battered ribs reminded her that she still had a living, breathing body somewhere, Wendy tried to remember what little she knew about the dark Light. Emma had used it to weave the barrier around Wendy's Light. It was cold to the touch—colder than Piotr's embrace had ever been—and slippery. Before, Wendy had been able to pry open only the thinnest sliver between a section of dark Light and the normal weave she kept over her soul to protect herself…but the darkness had expanded to fill the gap she'd left.

That was it. That was all she knew.

Crap.

Jane, at least, seemed to be having difficulty controlling the dark Light. Her hands, glowing fiercely, were shaking, her expression was grim and tight. She flung an arm out and a ball of dark Light separated from her hand and flew across the room, pounding into Lily's chest and downing the lithe girl with a heavy thud.

Coughing harshly, Lily bounced to her feet and, brandishing the knife, advanced again, strafing left to pin Jane between the organ and the wall. Jane pushed forward and Lily leaned in, grabbing Jane by the back of her head and shoving down, yanking her knee into Jane's gut and her elbow into the back of Jane's neck.

Jane, stunned, side-staggered and fell to one hand and a knee, breathing harshly, her blue hair hanging in her face and obscuring her expression. Lily kicked her under the ribs and Jane jerked to the side, shoulder banging against the organ and sending up a discordant crash as her flailing arm slapped the keys. The knife whipped down and Jane rolled forward, sliding through Lily's legs at last second. Lily hissed in pain.

“It's wearing off,” Wendy realized aloud. “Whatever that knife did to Jane, it's wearing off. CRAP.”

Jane either heard Wendy, or had come to her same conclusion. Popping up from her roll and staggering as if punch-drunk, Jane gathered the dark Light in her palms once again and flung the balls of energy at Lily.

Clyde yelled as Lily dodged and the balls scoured a large black hole in the far side of the room, setting the Never ablaze with chilling, freezing blue-white fire. Stripping off his shirt, Clyde rushed to the blaze and pounded on the edges of it with the cloth, cussing at the top of his lungs as the blue-white blaze burned his palms.

It looks like the hole in the horizon
, Wendy thought, squinting at the purpling edges of the hole. Staring too closely made her eyes water and ache and the cold thrumming from the rip in the Never was teeth-achingly intense.
Is that what the hole in the horizon is made of? Dark Light?

A harsh grunt behind her brought Wendy back to the fight in a vivid burst. She spun on her heel as Clyde, fire smothered, pushed past her, growling under his breath.

“LILY!” Wendy yelled when Clyde, cursing, strode over to Jane. He reached for the Reaper's upper arm, grabbed her and spun her around. So enraged was he over the damage to the mansion that he didn't see the white glow at Jane's chest or the grin spreading across her face.

“LILY, MOVE!”

“You! You Reapers! You don't care about nothing important! NONE of you! You keep this up, young lady, and I'm going to—
HURK
!”

Clyde staggered back, gripping his chest, as Jane slowly pulled her spear of Light from the gaping hole she had made. He frowned and looked at the wound, fell to his knees, and burned to ash before their eyes.

“Awesome,” Jane said and wet her lips. She was shaking heavily. “You two…you almost had me there.” She held up both hands. “I…I wonder…” Light glowed in each palm—normal, silvery-white Light in her left and the dark Light in her right. “Oh yeah,” Jane laughed. “That's the ticket.”

Lily, growling, dove at Jane, and the retaliation as Jane let go with both barrels was blindingly fierce. Wendy screamed as Lily
jerked and went down, essence pouring freely from the corners of her mouth and her battered nose. Her eyes were already bruising, the left-hand side of her jaw swelling and purpling.

Jane strode up and grabbed Lily by the back of her blouse, yanking the spirit to her feet one-handed. No sooner had Lily's feet touched the ground than she shoved forward, arms and knife outstretched. Jane pinwheeled her arms backward, flailing slightly, and Lily snatched Jane by her shifting shirt, yanking back until Jane was off balance and stumbled forward.

Once she was sure Jane was firmly caught, Lily fell backward, using her momentum to drop into a roll and jerking Jane with her, pinioning her legs outward to jam Jane in the gut, flinging the Reaper up and over her back as Lily rolled to a kneeling crouch. Jane, flying high over Lily's head, slammed above the fireplace, cracking the mirror in both the Never and the real world.

Lily strode to Jane and lifted the knife high, prepared to stab down, when Jane's hand shot out and wrapped around Lily's long, sagging braid, loosened in the battle. Lily began stabbing and kicking, but was lifted by her hair and flung against the far wall. The Never was so dense here; rather than flying through the brick and mortar, Lily slammed hard against it, her head cracking against the corner of the organ.

“Lily, hang on!” Wendy shouted, skidding across the slick ballroom floor. Her feet went out from under her and she slid into the wall. In the distance she heard Piotr shouting and Elle cursing.

“Wendy…Wendy…run,” moaned Lily. She slid the knife toward Wendy; it skidded across the polished floor and landed at Wendy's feet.

“No, I can't!” Wendy protested. Without thinking she knelt down and snatched up the knife.

“WENDY! RUN!” screamed Lily as Jane slipped completely into the Never, the Light blazing from her core. Wendy knew that Lily had no chance now; the siren song was sweet and clear, the Light
fierce and burning. If she stayed, Jane would go after Piotr and Elle next. She might call in reinforcements to attack Chel and Jon.

As the tendrils of Light stabbed Lily through, Wendy, weeping, turned tail and ran.