The Gates of Winter - Mark Anthony [124]
“I know about him,” said another young woman, sliding off a bench. She twirled a lock of greasy blond hair. “If you light nine black candles in a circle at midnight and face west and pledge your soul to him, you'll see him.”
“And have you ever done it, Tiffany?” Jessie asked, turning on her.
The other young woman stared, then shook her head.
“That's because you're chicken shit,” Jessie said. “So shut your face already.”
The blond girl slunk back to her bench.
Travis tried to swallow the sick lump in his throat. “So you've seen him, then?”
Jessie flicked her hair back over her shoulder. “Why should I tell you?”
He said nothing. She wanted to tell him; she would speak if he waited.
It didn't take long. “You can't see him anyway, not really. He's like a shadow in the night, that's all.” The calculating light fled her eyes, and a haunted expression took its place. She folded her skinny arms over her chest, as if suddenly feeling the cold. “But you can see his eye, burning like fire in the dark. He wanted me to give myself to him.”
The others were staring at her, mouths open.
“Did you?” Travis said.
She looked up, the haunted look gone, a fierce grin cutting across her face. “I don't take orders from anybody. My mom told me to stay away from my stepfather, but just like that I had him wrapped around my little finger. She wanted to kick me out of the house when she found out, but I told her I'd go to the police and tell them he touched me. That shut her up. I got out of that pit anyway a few months later, but I still make her give me money when I want it.”
Travis sucked in a breath. She was like Kyrene indeed. He chose his next question carefully.
“So what do they want—these Brights, as you call them?”
She shrugged. “How should I know? All I know is that they're looking for something—something He wants. And they'll bring it to Him when they find it.”
All warmth fled him. He reached into his right pocket, gripping the iron box.
Her eyes narrowed into dark slits. “You know something, don't you, old man? Don't lie—I can tell. That's part of my power. I think maybe I'll tell them about you. I bet they'll give me something good if I do.”
He could hardly speak the words. “Tell who?”
“The Deadies. They work for him like the Brights do. Only they hate the Brights. I did it with one once. He showed me his scar. It was totally awesome.” She ran a finger down her chest, between her breasts. “His skin was hot to the touch, but when we were done, I put my head against his chest and listened, and I didn't hear anything. No heartbeat.”
The others let out squeals of horror and delight at this story, but Travis hardly heard them. He could only stare at the young woman. Beings who came in light, searching for something precious. Men without hearts. A master who gazed from shadows with one fiery eye . . .
Cold fingers caressed Travis's spine. It wasn't just Duratek behind the abductions. He was in grave danger.
Jessie eyed him. “Shit, you really do know something, don't you?”
Her fingers fluttered, and he knew she was weaving a spell. A moment later he felt it—a presence pushing against his mind, probing for knowledge.
Travis didn't even have to speak the rune of breaking. He merely thought it and gave his hand a flick. Her spell unraveled like a cheap cloth, and her eyes flew wide as she staggered back, gasping for breath.
He grinned, a fierce expression. “You're not the only one who can do magic.”
Rage flashed across her face, followed by fear. Yes, she sensed the power humming on the air. Without even thinking to, Travis had opened the iron box in his pocket. His fingers brushed the Stones. “Go before I hurt you.”
“They'll find you,” she snarled. “You can't win against them. That's the one thing I do know.”
He raised his left hand. Silver-blue light crackled around his fingers. “I said get out of here.”
The others let out yelps of fear, then they were running, leaving their boom box behind. Jessie glared at him, her eyes full of hate. She made a hissing, animal sound, then