Vicki Pettersson - Cheat the Grave

Solange straightened, eyes alight with black fury. She lifted another stone to her mouth, and I bolted, burying myself in greenery, but not before I felt the wind lash my back…and heard Hunter’s deep wail.

I saw nothing between the mist and deepening sky. I tripped over roots and rocks, but kept sprinting in one direction. If it was a room, it had to have walls, right? Meanwhile, Solange’s blown kiss chased me, surrounding me like the waves of a dozen oceans, pushing and pulling me at the same time, seeking entry to what remained of my soul.

Hitting the ground, I kept low as the alive, seeking air blasted overhead, and moved beneath the verdant ferns until I found an ancient poplar. It was so dark now that even squinting as I pivoted around the trunk I was unable to see my body below me. So I squealed when I found myself face-to-face with Hunter.

“Listen,” he ordered, darting a glance over his shoulder. “I need to choke you out. Unconsciousness is the fastest way to get out of here. Whoever’s trying to get to you may not have an anchor, but they’ve got willpower and your corporeal body next to them.”

Did I want to go back to someone like that?

Hunter wasn’t offering me a choice. “Once you’re on the other side you can’t ever come here again. Not for anything. Not at any cost. It won’t be worth it.”

“Why?”

“Because your soul is in her sky, Jo…”

No, it’s in her mouth.

“It’s just a sliver, and imperfections abound, but it’s enough to control you.”

I filed that information away for later, if there was a later, and shook my head. “I mean why are you protecting me?”

He was close enough that I saw the sadness spring up, outlining his irises. But Solange called out to him then, and though it sounded like she was still in the clearing, her voice was a bullet. It bowed him over. He fell into the mist and onto an earth as black as the sky above.

That’s what happened under Solange’s control.

I joined him, diving to where he’d disappeared. I thought he’d be unconscious himself, but his hands immediately found my neck. I startled, my first instinct to pull away, but Solange had used him to lure me here, and he’d defied her to get me back out. As his fingers tightened around my neck, I realized he was going to pay for freeing me.

And as long as he was going to pay, he was going to make it worth it. His mouth found mine like it was a target, and my eyes fluttered shut, the last strangled threads of my breath lost to his lips. The trees and bells blurred my name overhead, while Hunter’s mouth moved against mine without sound. Then his expression shifted, separated, and dissolved. Yet his final words chased me back into my world. “Don’t ever return. She wants your power, your ability to-”

A hand touched my shoulder and I located the floor beneath my back. Gasped for air.

And smelled burning sulfur.

When I opened my eyes, I froze, and thought about ignoring Hunter’s advice and calling back out to Solange. Because I’d just woken up in a tomblike room, bereft of weapon or help…and with the Tulpa looming over me like I was already dead.

“What are you doing here?”

The Tulpa’s tone was ice, his eyes narrowed, and if I could still have seen auras, I knew that his would be bright red.

When in doubt, I thought, the taste of tin still sharp at the back of my throat, answer a question with a question.

“What happened?”

“You tell me, dear.” He straightened, leaning on a cane, his voice still sharp. “I walked in and found you sleeping in the middle of the floor. I had a hard time rousing you. In fact, you seemed to be in some sort of meditative trance.”

The last two words were said in the same tone a judge might use on a defendant…one he’d already found guilty.

Pushing the fear away, I stretched and yawned loudly. “Too much wine, I guess. I was missing my father, so I came to his office to be-I don’t know, near him somehow. I was thinking how much he’d like to be at this dinner…” The Tulpa’s brows arched, and I quickly amended my statement. Xavier would have loathed the festivities and not allowed it on his grounds. I shot the Tulpa a knowing smile. “I mean, everyone who is anyone is here, and he was so smart he could probably get Arun to put up the capital for some new business venture…”

The Tulpa twisted his cane handle thoughtfully. I hurried on. “So I was looking at the pictures on the mantel when I brushed up against those poky things out there, and found this.” I motioned around the room, suddenly no more spacious than a honeycomb cell. The Tulpa’s eyes following my fingertips certainly made me feel like I was about to get stung.

I dropped my hand to my side…too fast. A shift in expression and suddenly the elderly visage he’d donned for

“Olivia’s” benefit grew into points and angles. Shit. I started speaking quickly. “So I came in, picked up one of these old toys, and suddenly I was out like Kim Kardashian on a Saturday night.”

He didn’t laugh. In fact, the word “toys” had the dark brow lowering further. I tried on an innocent smile, but it sat forced on my face. The Tulpa stilled like an empty beach minutes before a tsunami.

Kill him, Joanna, I thought, swallowing hard. Kill him, gain the aureole, free the rogue agents in Midheaven. Turn his own weapon against him.

I glanced at the singing bowls and mallets. What was I supposed to do? Bonk him over the head with a handheld prayer wheel?

“H-How did you get here?” I asked, pushing to my palms. “I didn’t see you at the party.”

Meaning I hadn’t invited him.

“I stopped by on a whim. The guard at the gate knows me. Then Helen told me you were here.”

I recalled the scraping noises earlier at the door and fought not to sag. There was simply no way a mortal could escape these people’s notice.

“It’s an interesting room,” the Tulpa said, pretending to look about. “Do you remember your father as being particularly…religious?”

I tilted my head, pretending I didn’t know what he was asking as I continued my search for a weapon. A prayer flag up the nose? Stab him with incense? “No, of course not. He was a Christian.”

He didn’t laugh. But he didn’t strike me or smite me or, like, eat me either. Instead he held out his hand to help me up.

I rubbed a hand over my face like I was clearing the cobwebs, then accepted his offer with the other. He lifted me so smoothly it was like taking a magic carpet ride to my feet. When I looked up, the Tulpa’s gaze was also smooth…and boring into mine. His fingertips played beneath mine as he traced my prints. I prayed Io’s handiwork held up under the soft scrape of his fingernail. If not, I’d next feel my bones cracking beneath his palm.

But the charming smile from the boardroom had returned, if sporting an edge it hadn’t before. “I think, my dear, that I can be a significant influence in your life.”

I almost laughed. He already had that pretty well covered.

“I have enough people telling me what to do, thanks.” I inserted a little pout in my tone, petulance topping it off like a sticky sweet cherry. “The board of directors wants me to hand control over to them, my secretary tries to hold me to my father’s rigorous work schedule…” the Tulpa snorted. Xavier hadn’t done a whole lot of work in his waning months. “Even my housekeeper keeps badgering me about responsibilities.”

There. If I got through this alive, if he thought I was becoming suspicious or annoyed or fed up at Lindy’s perceived place in this household, maybe he’d tell her to lay off. It would buy me the space I needed to inspect the mansion for more of its secrets. Sure enough, the Tulpa’s top lip thinned.