The Curse Servant (The Dark Choir Book 2) (40 page)

“Hey,” she chirped.

“Hey.”

“Sorry it took so long to get here. Missed my exit, and couldn’t figure out how to turn around.”

“Yeah,” I grumbled.

She cocked her head at me. “You okay?”

“Sure.”

“You look pale.”

I stretched my neck and took another deep breath. “No, I’m fine. This has just been one hell of a month.”

“Everyone inside?”

“Yeah, but I wanted to catch you before we go in.”

“What’s up?”

I cleared my throat and tried to shake the nerves out of my arms. “I really suck at this, so I’m probably going to ramble. Bear with me.”

She frowned and leaned against her car.

“Okay, so, I feel like I owe you an apology.”

“For what?”

I held up my hand. “Just let me go with this, or I’m going to screw it up. I feel like you’ve given me a couple second chances already, and maybe it’s because I’ve been making assumptions about you. Maybe it’s my past, maybe my upbringing. I’m not sure, really. But I haven’t given you enough credit. I assumed you couldn’t handle the Life, and that’s my fault.”

Her frown melted into a thoughtful melancholy.

“It’s possible I’ve misjudged you for as long as I’ve known you. That makes me feel like shit because I could have saved us both a lot of suffering if I had just taken time to know you instead assuming I already knew.”

“This all sounds really sweet, Dorian, but I really don’t follow you.”

“Yeah, I suppose not. I have this bad habit of taking the blame for other people’s dickbaggery. I mean, look at Elle. Some rank amateur stuck this thing inside her, and they didn’t have any clue what that would do to her or the servitor.”

Ches blinked at the word, and leaned back. “The what?”

“Servitor. Cognizant thoughtform.”

“You think that’s what this is?”

“I know it is. And I blamed myself for the longest time because it was clearly sent to screw with me. I’m not entirely sure why, or why the person McHenry hired to fuck with me didn’t have the basic sense God gave an eggplant. Because if they did, they would have known children have a basic fundamental psychic shielding that makes them living soul traps. They would have known this thing would begin to starve to death inside that girl, and it would have to consume the host’s soul to survive. They would have known they were effectively murdering a thirteen-year-old girl, but they were too incredibly, unforgivably stupid to put that together. Either that, or they were so thunderously arrogant they thought they could fix this before it turned into my personal crusade. Before I got creative. And when I get creative? I get scary.”

She took a step back. “Why… why are you telling me this?”

“Because I’m curious, and I want to know. Was it arrogance or ignorance, Ches?”

“What?”

“I’m betting on ignorance because as cool as you played me this entire time, I don’t think for a second you’re capable of murder.”

Her eyes narrowed.

I pulled my phone from my pocket and flipped to the photo Carmody sent me just minutes ago… a photo of Ches receiving an envelope from McHenry. It looked like they were on a boat, probably on the Bay. A discreet meeting. A payoff.

Services rendered.

She shook her head and took another step away.

“Francesca? Is that even your name?”

“Yes.”

Bile burned in my esophagus. “Well, at least there’s that.”

She sighed and slapped her leg. “That fucking scumbag.” She worked her jaw, grinding her teeth as she stared into the distance. “For the record,” she added, “it was ignorance.”

I turned and walked a few paces to keep from blowing my top. I paused behind her Chrysler. The old blue Chrysler. I had seen it once before.

“It was you. At the campaign office. You were there watching us.”

She turned and nodded curtly.

I squinted at her license plate.

“Oregon tags?” I looked up at Ches. “You’re not even from Florida.”

Her eyes were heavy. With a ragged breath, she answered, “I went to Disneyworld, once.”

“Don’t!” I held a finger up and paced around her car, putting it between us.

Her voice drifted from across her hood. “I didn’t have a lot of choice.”

“That’s crap.”

“It’s true. Yes, I lied to you. But I had to.” Ches unfolded her arms and turned to lean against the fender. “That wasn’t supposed to happen. You’re right. I didn’t know this stupid thing would get trapped inside Elle.”

“Why did you even send it to her? What did she ever do to you?”

“It was supposed to be in and out like the other one. That was actually how it was supposed to happen. Short. Sudden. Then back out again. Just enough to rattle you. That was the job, keep you distracted. He wanted you out of the campaign.”

I growled, “McHenry.”

She nodded. “That was the plan.”

“Instead, you performed a working without full possession of the facts. And now Elle is paying for it.”

“I told you I wanted to help.” She looked over to me, her eyes weary. “And I meant that. I tried pulling it back out. It just can’t leave. It’s changed, anyway. I’ve lost my energetic affinity. I think it’s mutated. Wound too tightly around her mainline.”

“The night Elle got out. She wasn’t coming to my house. She was coming to you.”

“I tried. I really did. All I did was weaken it.”

I shook my head. “Where did you study soul magic, anyway?”

“Where do you think?”

I thought about it. “Oregon. Quinn Gillette?” Oh, fuck me. “You were her student?”

Ches’ face soured. “I was until Carmody screwed us all.”

“What happened?”

“Quinn was brokering borders with the Dead Ch’ans, dividing up the Willamette Valley, so we could stop the open fighting.”

I held up a hand. “I’m already lost, here.”

“I’m not surprised. No offense, Dorian, but you really have no idea what it’s like outside of the Presidium’s sphere of control. Out there, where every working has consequences, no matter how elementary. Where you can’t even buy reagents without permission from four cabals. Where you keep wardings sewn into your clothes in case some vodoun decides to take offense over something your lodge-mate did years ago. The Presidium has a good thing going here, which was why Carmody dragged me out here.”

“What did Carmody do?”

“He sold the Ch’ans a list of our addresses. People like Quinn and her seconds were safe. People like me? Not so much. They came after us. Our families. After the third ‘accident,’ we realized what was happening, but all I could do was beg Quinn to intervene. By then, she was hip-deep in a war with the Ch’ans, and my brother and his family had a curse carved into their door.”

My shoulders wilted. I took a seat on her hood, back-to-back with Ches as she continued.

“I knew a few unmaking spells.”

“Proto-Egyptian?”

“Uh, yeah. How did you―”

“Go on.”

“I tried to unwind the Ch’an curse, but it was too strong. I saved their lives, but not their marriage. I moved my brother to a safe house, but without an address, he couldn’t fight for custody of his kids. I had to make a deal with the Ch’ans to keep him safe.”

“Let me guess. Carmody brokered the deal?”

“When Quinn found out, we were both screwed. Coming to the East Coast was Carmody’s idea. We’d be safe from Quinn, and as long as we kept our heads down, we wouldn’t have to worry about the Presidium.” She sighed. “But he got restless. Started nosing around the practitioner community from Atlanta to New York, looking for work. He couldn’t do any business without crossing the line into Netherwork. It seems there’s only one Curse Merchant on the East Coast, and he doesn’t take on many clients.”

I looked over my shoulder, but held my tongue.

“Yes, I know it’s you.”

I turned away.

She continued, “Then my brother sent me an email. He was broke and couldn’t pay the lawyer. I mean, I got him into this. He didn’t ask for any of it, and here he was about to lose his kids.”

“So you went to Carmody.”

“He got me together with McHenry. By the time I sent the money to my brother, I realized McHenry was just as scary as Quinn. There wasn’t anything I could do.”

I sighed and pushed off of the car, walking around to face Ches.

“Is your brother still in danger?”

“No. He’s safe from the Ch’ans and Quinn. It’s not her style to go after innocents.”

“What about you? You’re in school under your real name. You don’t think Gillette will find you here?”

She took a deep breath and looked up at the side of the Swain’s building. “I’m sure she could if she really tried. I suppose I’m banking on it being too much trouble for her. I’m small potatoes.”

Clearing my throat, I offered, “She’s way more pissed at Carmody. I can tell you that much.”

Ches nodded. “That’s not surprising. He’s a genuine pile of shit.” She looked over at me. “Dorian, you can believe me or not. But I had no idea this would happen to your friends. To Elle. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone.”

“I do believe you, as a matter of fact. But as scary as Gillette is, as scary as McHenry is… do you have any idea what the Presidium would do to you if they knew you had created a servitor and sicced it on innocent people?”

She scowled and looked back down to her lap.

I took a step forward. “And that’s not the worst of it.” I pointed up to the side of the building. “There’s a mother in there who is probably the most frightening force of nature I’ve ever encountered. If she ever finds out you’re responsible for this, you’d better find a god to pray to.”

“If?”

I shook my head and leaned against the car beside her.

“What the hell was with you jumping me at the café?”

She started and stopped the same sentence a few times before finally saying, “I needed distance.”

“I’m listening.”

“We kept talking. And you invited me over. And then you asked me out, and then you got kicked out of that horrible Club. I was happy for you, but you were crushed.” She let slip a single laugh. “You’re so much more likable when you’re not trying to be.”

We stayed there in silence for a while before she asked, “Are you going to tell them? About me?”

I chewed on my lip for a minute, pondering the question.

“The way I see it,” I answered, “that won’t help anyone. Look, Carmody can still go to the Presidium with this, and you’ll end up with a black bag over your face. And no one will ever hear from you again. Carmody has to go away. For good. And happily, that was more or less my plan to begin with.”

“I want to be there.”

“You can’t.”

She hopped off the car and faced me with a frown. “Why not? This is still my thoughtform. I still have some affinity with it. Together, maybe we can―”

“Gillette’s coming.”

She closed her mouth and took a step back.

I continued, “She’s going to remove it. So the best thing you can do is stay here in Frederick and just keep Eddie safe while she cleans up your mess.”

“And then?”

“And then we’ll see.”

She nodded, then peered up at me. “I actually thought you’d be more pissed off than this.”

I had to think about that for a second. “I am, in fact, pissed off. But you’re right about something. I don’t know what it’s like out there. I don’t know what it was like to live like that, and I have no idea what it’s like to be you. So right now, we’re going to go up there and help the Swains pack up. Then you’re going to be a charming, nurturing, and as perfect a companion for Eddie as is physically possible. Nothing… absolutely nothing… is going to happen to Eddie. Are we on the same page here?”

Ches nodded slowly.

“I’m trusting you with him, Ches.”

“I understand.”

She extended her hand.

I shook it, adding, “I’m not sure I do.”

I turned and led her around the corner and into the shop. The bags were packed, and all that remained was to situate Ches and Eddie, and to feel out the best method for coaxing Elle into a car and down the freeway.

The time came for Edgar to guide Elle out of her room. She looked alarmingly thin like she had been starved for a month. Her sunken eyes twisted up at my face, and they set with as much edge as Elle’s body could muster. But there was no taunting or invective. No posturing. Just anger and slow death.

I heard a voice gasp “Oh, my God” over my shoulder. I turned to find Ches covering her mouth, her eyes red-rimmed.

Elle’s eyes transferred to Ches, and her lips pulled back to reveal a hard sneer. It knew where to assign blame. Ches had created the thing and sent it to its death. And now it stared its creator in the face, neither one capable of solving the problem.

Wren put an arm around Ches. “Thank you for coming.”

Ches turned away from Wren and nodded quietly.

Elle sucked in a rasping breath, probably preparing to release some kind of indictment in bile against Ches. But I stepped in front of her and lifted a finger. Elle’s sneer melted into a frown.

“Tomorrow morning, you’ll be free.”

Both Elle and the servitor seemed to understand.