Seanan McGuire - Rosemary and Rue

Apparently it did, because it stalked toward her, still snarling. She didn’t flinch, but flung another knife, this time aiming for the throat. The creature batted it aside without a pause. I think that’s when Dare realized that maybe insulting something that large when it’s close enough to catch you isn’t a good idea, because she started backing away, eyes wide.

My shoulder wasn’t just bleeding anymore, it was gushing, blood soaking my robe and running freely down my arm. I forced myself to stand, squinting past the pain that threatened to knock me down again. Four of Dare’s knives were embedded in the thing’s back. Two were stuck in the lower back, and one in the side of its arm, but the fourth was at an angle that might put it through the rib cage if somebody grabbed hold of the hilt and shoved upward.

I’ve always made a pretty good somebody. Moving as fast as I could still manage, I wrapped my hands around the knife’s hilt, slippery with almost black blood. My left hand didn’t want to close, but I forced it, gritting my teeth as the Doppelganger’s blood started burning my skin. Dare was whimpering somewhere in front of me, blocked from sight by the bulk of the thing’s body.

That did it. My hand finally caught a good grip, and I shoved the knife up as hard as I could.The Doppelganger bellowed, whipping halfway around, but I managed to keep hold of the knife, twisting it and driving it deeper in. One clawed fist hit my right arm as the creature tried to rip me off its back, slashing through the muscle of my bicep. It didn’t matter anymore. I was committed: I couldn’t have let go of that knife if I’d wanted to.

“Dare, the front!” I shouted.

She didn’t say anything, but I heard her high heels hitting the floor as she launched herself at the thing. The Doppelganger kept bellowing, lashing out in all directions as it tried to get away. I twisted the knife harder, not letting the pain of the blood washing over my hands force me to let go. It felt like the skin was being eaten off my bones. At least if that happened, it would probably stop hurting. I heard Dare strike again, screaming and cursing, and the Doppelganger fell. It landed unmoving, with me still clinging to its back.

When I was certain it had thrashed its last, I pried my unwilling hands away from the hilt of Dare’s knife, forcing myself to my feet. Dare’s last strike had opened its throat in a ghoulish parody of Evening’s death, bathing her in a veil of acidic gore. She was clutching her last knife in one hand, eyes wide and glassy with shock.

Manuel stumbled back into the doorway, apparently having just gotten up; combats never last as long as they feel from the inside. Four parallel slashes ran down his chest, marking where the Doppelganger hit him. Con grats, kid. You’ve got your first scars. “What . . .”

The Doppelganger’s edges were starting to smoke and blur. I stepped away from it. “This is the part where it melts.” And it was doing just that, dissolving into a pool of sticky slime that was never going to come out of the carpet.

“Ms. Daye?” Dare said, in a surprisingly meek voice. Was this her first kill? Oberon’s blood, had I just watched her lose the last of her innocence? “Ms. Daye, are you okay?”

I turned to look at her, part of my brain noting idly that her eyes were even greener when I was dizzy with iron poisoning and blood loss. “No,” I said, almost smiling as I felt the pain finally start to fade. Shock will do that for you. “I’m pretty sure I’m not okay. But it was nice of you to ask.” Then I collapsed. This losing consciousness thing was becoming a habit.

VOICES DRIFTED THROUGH the haze. I tried not to react, waiting for the things they were saying to come clear before I took the irrevocable step of opening my eyes. Once you’ve admitted you’re alive, you usually aren’t allowed to go back to playing dead.

“I thought I told you two to take care of her!” shouted Devin. His voice sounded like it was coming from just a few feet away—and it sounded like he was pretty pissed. If it was possible for a changeling to die of high blood pressure, he’d probably manage it one day. When did Devin come back to the apartment? I sorted through my recollections of the day and couldn’t remember letting him in.

The air smelled like cigarettes. I’ve never been a smoker, and that thought introduced the revolutionary idea that maybe we weren’t in my apartment. I tensed, then relaxed, waiting. If Devin was there, I wasn’t in danger. Well, not much danger, anyway.

“We got there in time!” Dare protested, voice desperate. Poor kid. She was a brat, but she’d done her best. If nothing else, she’d saved my ass, and I appreciated it.

“In time for what? In time to watch her get slaughtered? What a great idea! Why didn’t you bring a camera? You could have taken pictures!”

“She’s not dead!” Dare yelled, sounding like she was on the verge of tears. Devin never taught his kids to defend themselves from him; instead, he taught them that submission was a virtue. If you wanted to keep him off your back, you learned how to do it on your own time and without any outside help. That was the first lesson you needed to learn before you could leave him.

“No thanks to the two of you!”

The two of them? I’d only heard Dare speak—where was Manuel? Frowning, I opened one eye, treating myself to a blurry view of Devin’s office. I bet the neighbors enjoyed watching a pair of blood-spattered teenagers carry me out down the walkway. It was probably the most entertaining thing they’d seen all week.

Opening the other eye, I blinked until the room came into focus. Dare and Manuel were sitting on folding chairs in front of Devin’s desk, watching as he stalked back and forth. The kids looked almost sick, and Dare was clinging to Manuel’s arm like it was some kind of lifeline.

“But we—” she said.

Devin lunged, shoving her shoulders against the back of the chair. It rocked up onto its rear legs. She whimpered, and he yelled, “Be quiet! You were stupid! You should have been there hours before you were!”

“Manuel said we had time—” she protested weakly.

That was enough. Maybe I loved the man and maybe I didn’t, but no matter how scared he was, there was no reason for him to go taking it out on Dare. Using my right arm as a brace, I pushed myself upright. “Be nice to them, Devin. They did their job.” It felt like I was talking through a mouthful of cotton, but nothing hurt—at least not yet. I was sure the pain would be catching up with me soon.

“Toby!” Devin let go of Dare and rushed to kneel beside me, anxiously scanning my face. “Toby, what happened? Why did that thing attack you? Are you all right? What did it want? You’re awake!”

“Talking usually indicates consciousness,” I said, reaching out to gingerly pat his shoulder. “I’m okay. For meanings of the word that include ‘just got the crap kicked out of me by a Doppelganger,’ that is.”

Manuel turned toward us, smiling wanly. “Hello, ma’am.” Dare just kept clinging to his arm, shivering. She looked terrified, and I couldn’t blame her. Devin could be pretty scary when he put his mind to it.

“Hey, guys,” I said, matching Manuel’s smile with one of my own. Looking back to Devin, I added, “Those two saved my life, so knock it off. Stop yelling at them.”

His expression twisted, turning dark. “They were the ones that let your life be put in danger in the first place. If they’d been there when they were supposed to be . . .”

“I would have still been in bed,” I said, and shook my head. “It used my daughter’s face to get into the apartment, Devin. It was Gillian. I’d have let it in whether or not they were there. Hell, if they’d been there when it showed up, I would’ve thrown them out. If they’d been there when you wanted them to be, I’d be dead now.”