Black Heart bw-3 Page 10

  “I’m sensing a big ‘but’ here,” I said, growing angry.

  “But all magic leaves a trace. And that trace of my magic left in you may be enough to keep you from harming me should the day ever come when you should wish to do such a thing.”

  “That day is now,” I growled. “I’m not some toy for you—or Lucifer—to play with.”

  “I only meant to help,” Puck said. I could not see his eyes because of the veil, but I was sure they were twinkling.

  He may have intended to help, but he couldn’t resist the chance to help himself, as well.

  “Next time you feel the urge to aid me, resist,” I said. “I don’t need any more assistance from you.”

  “If you say so,” Puck said.

  “I do,” I said, and stomped away with much more energy than I’d had before Puck’s boost.

  7

  BECAUSE I WAS ANGRY, AND MY ANGER OFTEN MADE me blind and deaf to everything around me, I blundered over the crest of a hill and nearly walked into a troop of patrolling Cimice.

  I skidded to a stop, the loose gravel shifting beneath my boots. The lead insect called a halt just a few feet away, its mantislike head twisting this way and that. I stayed perfectly still, pulling my veil tighter around me, and hoped the Cimice would not be able to sniff me out. My veil would never have fooled a werewolf, but I knew nothing about an insect’s ability to smell. I had no idea where Puck was, but presumably he had more sense than I did and hadn’t practically walked into the Cimice’s arms.

  After a few long and tense minutes in which the little band of six crawled all over the immediate area looking for signs of intruders, they finally decided to continue on their way.

  I exhaled the breath I’d been holding and waited for Puck to reveal himself. His voice at my ear almost startled a little scream out of me, but I swallowed it. I did not want to draw the Cimice back to me.

  “We must proceed with caution from here,” he said. “No more temper tantrums.”

  I wanted to say that a temper tantrum implied my anger was unjustified, and that was definitely not the case. I wanted to say that I would not have been angry at all were it not for his behavior. But I did neither of those things. I did not feel like being drawn any further into Puck’s logic. Plus, even when I was right, I always had the vague sense that I was losing when I argued with him.

  That happened a lot with Lucifer, too.

  We continued in silence for a while, passing two more small Cimice patrols. The cicada-like buzzing had started up again, but this time I was able to block out the noise by concentrating on my will and my magic.

  We went farther into the mountain, surrounded by rock and the noise of the Cimice. Every so often Puck would put his hand on my shoulder so I would know he was still present. And then, suddenly, we were there.

  It looked like a hive because it was a hive. There was a great gash torn in the mountain, and from it the Cimice spilled forth. The giant insects crawled all over the side of the mountain.

  We drew off behind a series of large rocks and dropped the veil so we could counsel.

  I wasn’t sure what the Cimice were doing, but the place hummed with activity. All of the creatures moved with a purpose in and out of the cave. I could see the problem immediately.

  “How do we kill them all?” I murmured.

  According to the fae, the Cimice bred like city rats. One or two breeding pairs could replace the whole population within a few months. So the only way to do the job thoroughly was to make sure every last Cimice was eliminated. But how could I possibly do that?

  “How did you kill all the vampires?” Puck asked.

  “The vampires had all taken Azazel’s serum in order to walk in daylight. Azazel had infused the serum with his magic, and his magic was also in me, since I was his daughter. So I called the vampires to me using that link, and once the magic was activated and we were bound, I sent a spell of destruction out through them.”

  “Blood,” Puck said. “So mundane and yet so powerful. I suppose that does mean that you are, in fact, Azazel’s daughter and not Lucifer’s.”

  “Off topic,” I said. “We already covered that. So how do I make sure to get all of the Cimice?”

  “You’ve already presented the answer,” Puck said.

  “Blood?” I asked. “How will that work? I don’t have the blood of the Cimice inside me.”

  “So crude,” Puck chided. “You just need some of the Cimice’s blood to direct the spell. Since only a few of the creatures settled here, all of the subsequent generations will share genes from the first group.”

  “So I just need to catch one of them, take its blood, and then use the blood to push the spell through?” I asked skeptically. “I’m not sure about that. I don’t know if I can do that kind of magic. All of the spells I’ve used thus far have been internally motivated—you know what I mean?”

  “Just because you have not done something like this before does not mean you cannot,” Puck said. “Madeline, now that you have fully opened yourself to Lucifer’s legacy, you have a vast, untapped store of power. You have not even begun to plumb the depths of that power.”

  “If you say so,” I said.

  It was extremely scary to think that I was sitting on a massive well of power. What if I lost control? I could go off like a nuclear bomb. More than once I’d suspected that I’d barely skimmed the surface of my magic, but I didn’t like to think that I had unlimited abilities sitting at my fingertips. That would make me like Lucifer, and I did not want to be like Lucifer.

  Even if I had crossed a few lines in defense of my life, I still believed I was on the side of good. I was still trying to be something better than my grandfather wanted me to be. But every time I went deeper into that pool, every time I drew a little bit more of that power and made it my own, I was also drawn a little deeper into Lucifer’s web. Puck may have known, or at least suspected, most of my feelings on that count.

  He wouldn’t want me belonging to Lucifer any more than I already did, unless it served his purpose. And Puck’s purpose was just as opaque as that of his brother. If I used my magic in this new way, I would get rid of the Cimice, thereby eliminating a threat to my city and thwarting Titania at the same time. But it was also possible—even probable—that I would play myself right into the middle of some scheme of Puck’s.

  Could I avoid being trapped by Lucifer’s brother? Was the risk worth it if I could save innocent lives? If I wanted to stay on the side of good, then the answer had to be yes. But maybe I could clear myself of an obligation at the same time.

  “If I do this, I want one of the favors I owe you wiped off my ledger,” I said.

  Puck shook his head, tut-tutting. “Oh, no, no, no. A favor from Lucifer’s best beloved is far too valuable a quantity to give up for something such as this. Besides, you would go after the Cimice whether I were here or not. You were going to do it when you thought I was Litarian.”

  “Yes, but it also benefits you if I do your dirty work. So I want one of my favors cleared.”

  Puck continued to shake his head. “Are you telling me you would really allow innocent humans to die just because you didn’t get what you want? I don’t believe that of you. If you did behave that way, I would say you were more like Lucifer than I thought.”

  “Of course I won’t allow anyone to die because I didn’t get my way,” I said.

  Puck spread his hands wide. “Then I rest my case.”

  “But if you don’t clear me of my obligation, then I’ll call the dragon here, and you can take your chances.”

  Puck stared, his jewel-blue eyes carefully blank. “You wouldn’t,” he said.

  “I would,” I said, and made sure he could see the conviction on my face.

  I was definitely taking a gamble. If Puck became angry that he had been boxed into a corner, he’d find a way to pay me back later—and I was certain I wouldn’t like the payback. It was always possible that he wasn’t actually scared of the dragon. Maybe he
’d feigned fear just to see what I would do.

  I was giving myself a headache, thinking in circles like this. How did Puck and Lucifer and Titania do it—weigh all the angles, contemplate all the possibilities?

  Beezle had once compared me to the Hulk, and it was an apt description. I liked to crash and bash and worry about the consequences later. The trouble was that everyone around me was playing the long game, and if I continued the way I had before, I was always going to be on the losing end of the stick.

  I watched Puck, and waited for his decision. I didn’t have a hint of what he was thinking.

  Finally, he said, “Deal.”

  I couldn’t conceal my shock. “Deal?”

  “You don’t want it?” Puck asked craftily.

  “Of course I do,” I said. “I want your word, by the blood we share, that you forfeit your right to one favor from me if I kill all the Cimice present on this world.”

  I was careful to add that last qualifier. If there were Cimice alive on other worlds, Puck could easily claim that I had not adhered to the letter of our agreement. He would then absolutely use that as a loophole to put my favor back in his ledger.

  “I give you my word, by the blood we share, that I forfeit the right to one favor from you if you kill all the Cimice present on this world,” Puck said solemnly, but his eyes twinkled.

  Had he thought of something that I hadn’t? It was very likely he had, but my brain was pretty much done with exhausting the options. I’d have to accept that I wasn’t as well equipped in that department as my relatives.

  “So now we’ve just got to catch one of these suckers so I can use its blood to direct the spell.”

  “We?” Puck said.

  “Aren’t you going to help me?” I asked.

  Puck shook his head. “You are fulfilling an obligation to me. You must perform the task on your own.”

  I bit my tongue so that I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of listening to me curse him out. “Enjoy the show, then,” I said.

  I veiled myself and stalked away, Puck chuckling softly behind me.

  I surveyed the situation. The Cimice were all pretty centrally located around the cavern. Even if I was under a veil, the Cimice would notice if I grabbed one of them. Then an alarm would be raised, and I would lose the element of surprise, and this whole enterprise would quickly become more annoying than it already was.

  If I had known I’d need the blood of one of the creatures, I would have taken out one of the patrols we had passed earlier. They were nice and isolated from the rest of the population. Now it would be too time-consuming to double back. I was just going to have to take my chances here. That was pretty much the default of my life, so at least I was in familiar territory.

  I crept carefully over the ground between me and the colony, mindful of any place where there was loose rock or dirt that I might dislodge beneath my boots. I skirted around the entrance to the cavern and took up a spot several feet away from the epicenter of activity.

  The Cimice were carrying rocks of various sizes inside the cavern. They were obviously building something, and I was really not interested in what. Understanding them was not going to help me get rid of them.

  After several moments, a Cimice drifted close to my location. First, I quickly dropped a veil over the creature. I could still see the Cimice underneath, but it seemed see-through, like a ghost. I wondered why I could see it when I couldn’t see Puck under my veil before. Was it a product of my will? Or because I hadn’t expected to see Puck then, but needed to see the Cimice now?

  There was a lot I still didn’t understand about my powers. Regardless, the insect did not seem to be aware of the veil. The creature went about its business, busily collecting rocks and loading them into the sack it had slung around its neck.

  The Cimice were well armored, with shiny green carapaces everywhere except at the soft joints. I remembered killing one before, in Chicago, under the Southport El. That creature had known I was coming, had fought me to the point of exhaustion. But I had managed to kill it by shooting electricity through it at the vulnerable exposed flesh just under its head. Using electricity now would attract a lot of attention. In any case, I needed the creature’s blood, and frying it wasn’t the best way to achieve blood loss.

  What I needed to do was use the sword to slit the thing’s neck. There were a couple of logistical issues I needed to work out first, though.

  For one, the Cimice were tall—like, NBA-player tall. I am decidedly un-tall. I could fly up behind the insect in order to reach its neck, but it’s a lot harder to be stealthy that way. The Cimice might sense my presence behind it—feel the breeze from my wings or something like that. It seemed better to do it from the front, especially if the insect was distracted into looking up. Which gave me an idea.

  Sheer rock rose above the Cimice’s cavern, and above the place where I stood. If I very carefully caused a small piece of rock to break off and tumble down . . . Yes, that could work.

  I moved into position. I was close enough to where the Cimice worked to lunge forward and slice its neck. It was kind enough to help me in this regard by suddenly deciding to work on all fours, which made it a lot easier for me to reach the soft throat with my blade.

  Now the tricky part. I needed to hold the veil over myself and over the Cimice while using a very small, focused amount of power to dislodge an eensy bit of the rock wall above. I didn’t want to start an avalanche, although that would have been better suited to my skill set.

  I took a deep breath, focused my magic and my will to hold the veils steady, and then shot a tiny amount of nightfire at the rock wall. A chunk the size of a potato was dislodged, and it tumbled down in front of the Cimice. It then immediately did the logical thing and looked up.

  And when it did, I pounced. The blade sliced through the Cimice’s neck. I put a lot of force into it, nearly taking the thing’s head off entirely. As it was, the creature’s head flapped backward, bending the remains of its neck in an unpleasant way and exposing the cut muscle and veins.

  Blood spurted, covering my sword. And my arm and chest and face and hair. This thing had a lot of blood. But at least I had what I hoped was enough of the stuff to perform the necessary spell.

  I was congratulating myself on a job well-done when a nearby Cimice let out a high-pitched cry of alarm. And then pointed one of its pincers right at me.

  The veils still held steady, so I couldn’t figure out what had given me away. Then I noticed the blood spatter all over the rock. Ah. Yes. That would attract some attention, wouldn’t it?

  I raised the sword up, ready to take down any Cimice that came for me. But the creature who had raised the alarm wasn’t actually pointing at me.

  It was pointing at the splattered blood, which was behind me. My veils were holding. The insects gathering now could see neither me nor their fallen brethren. They saw the blood, and didn’t understand where it came from. It frightened them.

  Good, let them be scared, I thought. It was such an un-Maddy-like thought, such a dark-side impulse that I shook my head immediately. No, I was not going to enjoy their fear. I was going to get the job done and then make sure Puck got me out of this place.

  Puck had been adamant that flying was a bad idea, but it was the fastest way for me to get out of the corner I was boxed in. More Cimice were gathering, pointing at the spattered blood and chittering among themselves. I really needed to get away before they approached the wall. They would bump right into me, veil or no veil.

  I lifted off, debating whether or not I should drop the veil on the dead Cimice’s body. There were already on to the fact that something was amiss. I would have an easier time with the blood spell if I could focus all of my attention on it. That settled the question.

  I dropped the veil on the dead one and flew away. Behind me was an explosion of noise and activity as the body was revealed.

  I went straight to the spot where Puck waited, still hidden behind the rock. He laughed out loud wh
en he saw me.

  “I told you to get blood, Madeline,” he said, his eyes crinkling with merriment. “I didn’t tell you to roll in it.”

  “Shut it,” I said. The Cimice’s blood was drying stickily all over me. I felt like I’d been dipped in a vat of caramel sauce. Except I didn’t smell that good. “Okay, obviously I’ve got the thing’s blood. Now what?”

  “I’m sure if you think about it, a solution will come to you,” Puck said.

  “You . . . are . . . useless,” I said.

  “We could renegotiate our deal,” Puck said.

  “No way,” I said. “I’ll sort it out without you.”

  “Just as I thought,” he said, but he looked a little disappointed that I hadn’t changed my mind.

  I studied the grayish-green substance clinging to the blade of the sword. When I had called the vampires to me I’d used the magic in their blood, the traces of magic Azazel had left on the serum the vamps had swallowed.

  But there was no magic for me to latch on to here. All the Cimice had in common were their genes.

  Although creating life is its own kind of magic, isn’t it? I thought. And magic always leaves a trace of itself behind.

  I touched the tip of my finger to the blade, brushed some of the blood onto it. Then I sent my power through that drop of blood, just a little questing thread looking for a spark of magic. And I found it.

  Deep inside the blood of the Cimice was a minuscule remnant of magic, the magic that was life itself. And this magic bound all of the Cimice together. I knew it with the same certainty that I knew my own name. My power welled up inside me, knowing instinctively what to do.

  It surged through the magical spark in the Cimice’s blood, searching for the next connection, the next link in the chain.

  It touched that Cimice, and sped through its bloodstream. And then it stopped the insect’s heart.

  Once my power had done that, it looked for the next link, and the next. And the next. And so on and on.