Ann Aguirre - Hell Fire

Motion flickered at the edges of my vision, but I still couldn’t focus right. She must have fetched it, though, because I felt him applying the ointment to my injured palm as he’d done so many times before. His mother’s remedy soothed the worst of the pain. More than once, I’d considered the cream magickal. Now I suspected it just might be. “What happened?” I asked. That time, the words came out more or less as I intended.

“You were . . . inside a long time. And the pain—” Jesse’s voice actually broke. “Christ Almighty, Corine.”

“So we pulled your hand off the wall,” Shannon continued. “But I wasn’t sure we did it fast enough, ’cause it didn’t seem to do much good. You puked and then passed out.”

“It’s an evil place,” I said, low. “Hungry. But it’s different than what lives in the wood.”

“The site needs to be cleansed,” Jesse agreed. “But that’s not our first priority.”

I acknowledged that with a tired nod. My stomach still felt queer and queasy. I was in no condition to argue with anybody about anything.

Shannon added, “You should have seen Chance. He was freakin’ out.”

Chance gave a wry half smile, but he didn’t deny it. “So we came back here to wait it out. Butch is relieved to see you awake, let me tell you.”

The dog jumped up onto the mattress and licked the back of my uninjured hand. He yapped once as if to corroborate. In response, still too shaky to get up, I stroked his head.

Shannon sat down at the end of the mattress. “Jesse wanted to take you to the hospital. I was starting to think maybe we should. You gonna tell us what happened out there?”

“Water, first, please.” My throat ached as if I had really survived a fire.

I drained two full glasses before I felt any better and pulled away from Chance.

Jesse settled near Shannon, ready to listen. I took that as my cue and set the empty glass on the floor beside me.

“Just tell me it was worth it.” Saldana stared at his hands. His voice sounded hoarse, raw. “Tell me you learned something. Tell me you didn’t go through that for nothing.”

What he really meant was, Tell me you didn’t put me through that for nothing . I had no doubt he’d suffered everything I had. I wished I could apologize, but that would imply regret, and I’d do the same thing again.

I related what I’d seen in bare-bones terms. There was no point in expressing how bad it had been; Jesse knew, and the other two had some idea, based on my reaction after.

“So,” I concluded, “they performed a ritual around my mother’s body.” It hurt so much to speak the truth. “She killed herself before they came in.”

No wonder I’d never felt even a whisper of her. According to nearly every religion’s lore, suicides went straight to the worst circle in hell—and they didn’t get day passes to come whisper reassurances to the living.

“Why would she?” Shannon asked.

I could only shrug. “To prevent them from getting whatever they wanted from her?”

“Power?” Jesse guessed. “If so, it could be a black coven.”

I remembered my mother warning me of those who drained magickal gifts and took them as their own. She’d called them ghouls, though they began as human beings. The process awoke an incessant hunger, so once they began to eat the magick of others, they could never be satiated.

The idea didn’t wholly explain things. As far as I knew, she had never revealed how much she could do. Between the orchard and the garden, we’d been close to self-sufficient, and she only made charms and potions on request: minor things, low magick. So why would a black coven decide she had enough to risk exposure in taking her? It didn’t add up.

“Why?” I asked, frustrated. “What did they hope to gain?”

“I bet it has to do with that monster in the woods,” Shannon muttered.

“Have you seen it?” With some effort, I hauled myself into a sitting position.

Shannon hesitated. “Yeah. Well, sort of. I felt it more than saw anything. We cut school and meant to get wasted out there. When it got all dark and still, Robert Walker pissed his pants. He was small and slow, kind of timid. We all ran back to where we’d parked the cars and they wouldn’t start.” She shivered, remembering. “I thought we’d never get out. It felt like the thing was playing with us, enjoying it more when we ran.”

“Did you all make it out?” Jesse asked.

She shook her head slowly. “Rob never came home.”

Poor kid. She’s had a hell of a life.

“When was this?” Chance sat forward, carrying me with him.

“Last April.” She considered for a moment. “April nineteenth. With all the weirdness and disappearances, it’s just not safe here anymore.”

As if it ever was.

But Dale Graham was right about one thing. Events were definitely escalating.

“In my experience,” Jesse murmured, “you just don’t get an evil monster running amok without somebody raising it.”

I sensed Chance’s agreement even before he spoke. “So the question is, who summoned it, and why?”

I intended to ask Miss Minnie that very question tonight.

To my amazement, Shannon brought me a present before I ever stumbled out of bed. The silver chain glimmered in my hand like a sliver of starlight. Somehow, she’d managed to remove all the years of tarnish and filth. My mother’s necklace looked like new—even the delicate curves of the flower pentacle.

“Thank you so much. But how did you—”

“Jesse gave it to me while you were out. He thought you might like to wear it.”

A sensitive, yet practical gift. Yeah, that was Jesse all the way down to the ground. He’d known I’d love to have the necklace restored, but giving it to Shannon to deal with made her feel useful and distracted her from worrying about me.

“It looks beautiful. I can’t believe how good you made it look.”

“Basic science,” she said with a shrug. “All you need is baking soda, salt, boiling water, and aluminum foil in a pan.” I could tell she was pleased with my reaction, though, despite her ostensible indifference.

“Would you mind helping me put it on?”

In answer, she leaned in and deftly fastened it around my neck. A little spark ran through me at her touch, reminding me that I needed to talk to her about her gift. “Did you notice that when we touched?”

“The static?”

I shook my head. “Wrong. That’s how Gifted people identify one another. If you touch Jesse, you’d get the same reaction.”

She seemed skeptical. “Yeah? It looked like static to me.”

Reminding myself to be patient, I explained, “Growing up in Kilmer, you wouldn’t know this any more than I did, but there’s a subsection of the populace who can do weird and amazing things, just like we can. If you let me, I can put you in touch with them.”

“You’re for real about this.” Despite her amazement, it wasn’t a question.

“Absolutely. You saw what I can do. Jesse feels what other people feel.”

“Duh. Empathy.” She spoke with a scorn that emphasized her youth.

Ah, bravado. I remembered it well. “Right. And there are more folks like us out there. If you accept me, I’ll be your mentor, teaching you as Jesse teaches me. We’re both fresh out of the woods, so to speak.”

“What does that even mean? Mentor?”

Not too long ago, I’d been asking the same thing. “I’ll help you when you need it. Answer questions. Basically it means I’ve got your back.”

A rare smile creased her thin cheeks. “I’m down with that.”

That taken care of, I hauled myself off the mattress. I shuffled toward the bathroom. I needed a shower to wash away the stench of the ruin that had nearly claimed me. As I came out of the bedroom, I heard the low murmur of voices that told me the guys were in the parlor.