Jeanne Stein - Retribution

The witches are waiting when I come off the elevator. It’s quiet in the big anteroom that is the nerve center of the compound. Only a half dozen psychics are on duty. They pay us no heed when we disappear down the hall.

Once the door is closed behind us, Susan Powers speaks first, taking the bowl I hold out to her. “You are sure you want to do this?”

She looks at the bowl with its ruby liquid —Sophie’s blood—and places it on a table. “It is very dangerous. Once we get you to your destination, you have only ten minutes before we lose our ability to pull you back. After that, you will be on your own. Our magic will no longer be able to help you.”

“Or protect you,” Min Liu adds. “You will be a human with no powers on a ghostly plane. It’s a foolish risk, Anna. We have no way of knowing what form Belinda has taken. Williams said she was hurt badly, but she survived what would have killed a lesser witch. We beg you to think this through carefully. There must be another way.”

I draw a breath. “There is no other way. I can’t afford to wait for her to get strong enough to come back. I’ve beaten her twice. Next time, she may strike without warning at people I love, at me. This is my only chance to strike first.”

Ariela approaches, takes my hand. “Then if you’re sure, we will prepare you for the journey.”

I nod and let her lead me to the center of the room. She takes a brush and paints a circle around me with Sophie ’s blood. At the same time, Min dips her fingers into the bowl and dabs my face—forehead, cheeks, lips.

The blood neither awakens the beast nor excites it.

“Are you wearing the amulet?” Min asks.

I pull the charm from under my T-shirt and let it fall between my breasts.

She touches the amulet with the blood. “This will be your guide. It will lead you to Burke and after, back to us.”

“What should I expect?” I ask. “What will this ‘ghostly plane’ be like?”

Susan has been at the table, first arranging candles, then mixing some kind of potion in a golden goblet. She looks up. “We don’t know.

None of us are powerful enough to attempt the journey.”

She says it while holding my gaze with her own and with a kind of awe that makes my eagerness for what may come even more intense.

I want to do this.

Min is still holding the bowl. “Give me your weapon. I’ll anoint it, also.”

“Weapon?” I repeat. “I have no weapon with me. I am vampire. I thought that would be enough.”

Min’s eyes widen. “I told you,” she says. “You will be human on the ghostly plane. You will not be vampire. You can only pass through the portal as a human.”

Susan frowns. “Williams didn’t explain that to you?”

I press my fingertips against my eyes for a moment, seeing Williams on his back with that spear of rebar in his chest. “No. It doesn’t matter. Weapon or no weapon, I’ve got to do this now.”

The three exchange concerned glances. Ariela crosses to the table and picks up a dagger Susan had used to strip herbs from a slender twig. She touches the blade with the blood and brings it to me.

The dagger is about ten inches long, the blade tapering from a leather-bound handle to a fine point. Its weight lies heavy in my hand. I hold it up, watch light dance along the blade, nod to the witches. Ariela hands me the sheath. I secure it around my waist with a cord, slip the knife inside. Close my jacket around it.

“I’m ready.”

The three move to the outside of the circle. Susan picks up the goblet, begins to chant. Smoke rises from the goblet, first white, then black. Min and Ariela join hands, adding their voices to the song, a simple phrase in a language unknown to me, a single rhythmic note repeated over and over.

I watch and listen, fascinated, waiting. I don’t know what to expect—what will the journey be like? Will I fly? Will I sense movement?

A thrill runs through my body, prickly as electric current.

I am not afraid. I’m excited. Every cell in my body thrums with anticipation.

The smoke grows darker and denser. How could so much smoke come from that tiny goblet? The witches are a dim shadow lost in the haze. Their voices fade, receding as if it is they who are moving through time and space.

A tiny sensation. The floor shifting beneath my feet. A rumble of distant thunder. The room gone black as night. I close my eyes. For an instant.

When I open them, the world has changed.

I’M IN A ROOM. DAZZLING WHITE. NO WINDOWS or doors. Now what?

I touch the amulet.

It warms and begins to glow. As it does, shapes form out of nothingness. A table. A round globe in the center.

I approach it. I know what I’m supposed to do. Something deep in my subconscious guides me. I place both hands on the globe.

Beneath my fingertips, it stirs as if alive. Beneath my fingertips . . . My physical senses are sharper. I watch, fascinated, excited, as clouds form in the sphere, then clear.

I see a room. A bed. An old woman lying still beneath a quilt of grass. She opens her eyes and looks up at me. Awareness blooms behind cataractous eyes. No fear. A smile. She beckons with a crooked finger.

A whirl of movement.

I’m at the bedside.

Belinda Burke is sitting up. She is bent with age and stoop-shouldered. Her face is lined. She is squinting at me through lenses shrouded in the opaque film of age. But she recognizes me. Her bitter malevolence permeates the air like moisture after a summer storm.

“You came, Anna. Not Williams. But I shouldn’t be surprised. Did you kill him?”

She shakes her head without waiting for me to answer. “No. Of course not. It’s not in you to kill. You still fight the animal within. It will be your downfall, you know.”

She stirs, one gnarly hand grasping the blanket as if to throw it off.

I move faster, grab that hand, still it.

She smiles up at me. “You have no power here.”

“From what I see, neither do you.”

A breath stirs the hair on the back of my neck. It’s like the breeze from an open door. I whirl around.

The guy from the restaurant, the one I assumed was Burke ’s bodyguard, is behind me. He looks bigger than I remembered. He ’s dressed exactly like before, oddly tailored black suit. The only difference this time is his eyes. They are opaque like Burke’s.

Her laugh is high-pitched, malicious. “You didn’t think I’d be without protection, did you?” She waves a hand.

The man advances on me. He’s snarling, snapping at the air like a dog.

I know I should be scared. In this place, I have no vampire strength or speed. And yet, I was a bounty hunter long before I got those powers. I’d learned to protect myself as a human. He’s human, too. He’s used to his size intimidating people. It doesn’t intimidate me.

I step away from him. A side kick to the solar plexus catches him off guard. A follow -up elbow to the face and he staggers back. He shakes his head. Roars in outrage.

His hand moves to open his jacket.

Shit. Weapons do work here. I rush him. He’s too big to get my arms around. He’s male. The kick catches him square in the groin. It staggers him. But it’s not enough. I put every bit of strength I have into a follow-up.

That works.

He gasps, doubles over, grabs at himself. Color floods his face.

My chance. I use the heel of my palm to strike the deathblow. An upward blow fueled by the pain and desperation of eighteen young girls. A blow that smashes the cartilage in his nose and forces bone into his brain with a satisfying crunch.

He goes down like a rock.

Now for Belinda.

I draw the blade from the sheath at my waist and show it to her.