Chapter 15
Dima
Iexit the car, hurrying to get Kristie’s door but she’s already on the sidewalk, checking her weapons.
She gives me a wink and then brazenly walks through the front gate, up the path.
She pastes a brilliant smile on her face, the last beams of the day’s sun highlighting her huge eyes.
There is mischief in them as she moves to make her way to the front door, not bothering to hide from cameras or any type of security.
In fact, she stops, turns to a camera and winks at it before coming to a stop at the front door.
Instead of knocking she stills, head tilted to the side. “Stay here, watch the front,” she murmurs, her back melting into the wall, edging her way around the corner of the house.
With every step she takes away from me my head throbs. “No, no, no, no,” I chant. Not now.
My vision turns hazy and there is Kristie, my Kristie, gasping for air, pinned to the ground by something or someone.
I rush to move toward her, the unfinished vision playing in my mind but I’m slammed back into something hard, pinned in place by a force that is so strong it feels like it’s crushing my chest. I fight not only for breath, but for freedom, needing to get to my woman.
I’ve only just found her, I can’t lose her now.
A whimper is torn from my body when Kristie’s lips turn blue, the blood vessels in her eyes burst and the clawing of her hands starts to turn sluggish.
She’s dying, killed by a foe I can’t see.
My sight is still hazy as my vision continues to play, but I’m no longer paying attention, not when tears fall down my cheeks and my heart feels like it’s been torn from my chest.
The throbbing lessens, my vision clears as much as it can with tears blinding me, and whatever was holding me hostage has broken their hold on me.
I’m surrounded by silence. No birds, no sounds of children’s laughter or fake witches in front yards cackling at passers by.
Nothing. Until a whisper in the air. Kristiana Ferrone.
Turning, I will my feet to move, I have to find her.
I follow her path around the side of the house, eyes darting around the well manicured gardens looking for a sign of her.
On quiet feet I drift, my heart still aching from what I’ve seen.
What I’ve felt. I know that whoever we are searching for is powerful.
Maddigan’s curse was to enhance joy, or in his case, feed off it.
Whoever has it has fed off more souls than just his.
The power I felt when I was pinned to the pillar, that was the strength of more than one sliver of a soul. That was the power of many.
A white flash at the corner of my eye has me spinning in that direction, back toward the front of the property.
Shit. My head says I need to find my woman, help her, save her, but everything in me screams at me to follow.
My vision, the one I share with Kristie, she’s there to witness Maddigan and Fake Kristie.
I have to trust that the fates haven’t got this wrong and that whatever I saw was an illusion, perhaps a trick of the much more cursed individual.
I have to hope that I can save everyone that needs to be saved.
Kristie. Gabe. Innocent children who for too long have been used as play things by depraved men.
I take one last look at my surroundings, the pull to follow too strong to ignore. Moving swiftly I drift in the same direction as the flash I saw. I move like the ghost I am, aware that something else is here with me. They can probably feel me as much as I can feel them. Cold. Suffocating. Eerie.
Standing in the shadows my eyes finally land on her.
Not La Strega, dressed all in black, scowl on her face, gun in hand.
No, this is Kristie. Dressed in white, nipples pebbled in the cool breeze.
Eyes wide and wary, but not afraid. She’s steady.
Reserved. Shy almost. She turns this way and that, as if looking for something.
She keeps clutching at her chest, then her head. She’s confused.
Dead leaves swirl in the breeze and the whisper of voices follows the same path. Not secrets, prayers. My eyelids close, ear tilted to the wind to try and decipher what they’re saying.
“Please don’t go. I need you.”
“Mommy? Daddy?”
“I don’t want to say good bye!”
“Why does everyone leave me?”
“Everyone dies! They keep dying!”
“When will you stop taking people away from me!”
My heart aches when I decipher Kristie’s prayers. The woman dressed in white in front of me, her eyes sad as she watches the realization on my face. Her lips move but I can’t hear a word she’s saying. Her brows pinch and she tries again, desperately trying to tell me something.
“Dima, turn around.” Kristie’s hoarse voice calls out to me from my right, and there, there she stands like my vision. Only this time she has bruises on her throat, eyes bloodshot.
I move to take a step toward her and she shakes her head, eyes over my shoulder.
“Turn around, Dima!” she demands as loud as she can, her voice coming out in a rough whisper.
I do as she asks, slowly turning and coming face to face with a person not much taller than Kristie.
Their face isn’t clear though. Instead, there seem to be a series of masks that it flicks between, all different, all evil.
It flickers between them, like an old television stuck between two channels, yet the one that seems to stand out the most is the one I suspect is Kristie’s foster brother.
The smirk practiced from years of tormenting others.
“Ah, there she is. Exactly what I was looking for.” Maddigan’s voice comes out warped. The lips moving at different times, the words fading in and out of different voices.
“You’ll have to go through me to get to her.”
“Fine. I’ll take your gift just as I will take hers.”
Kristie
I swallow, trying to ease the burning in my throat. I really shouldn’t have called out to Dima, but I needed him to be aware of what was standing directly behind him. Maddigan. Or at least some semblance of him. A thing wearing the face of my brother.
My hand moves to my neck and I massage it a little.
I’m still pissed that someone, or something managed to get the jump on me.
It has to be a something. I’m not the best hitwoman the Mancini family has ever seen because I have shit situational awareness.
One minute I was pressed to the side of the building, following the sound of familiar voices, the next I was on the ground having the life choked out of me.
I know it was the life choked out of me because I saw my parents.
My aunt. My uncle who went up in flames at his surprise birthday party.
And, clear as day, I saw the part of Maddigan I was meant to have killed.
The part that twisted his gift and turned it into a curse to whoever came into contact with him.
I saw them all, and for once, I felt free of my own curse.
I felt a lightness flow through me, like I was floating toward something better, something blindingly hopefully.
My name whispered on many lips, as if calling me home.
All the voices of people I have loved in my life, all but one.
The one who appeared in a shitty warehouse out of nowhere.
The one who looks at me as if I’m not a curse.
The one who treats me like a gift. Dima.
He’s the reason I never went further into the light, into the embrace of my family waiting for me on the other side.
He’s the reason I’m here now, with an aching throat ready to send Maddigan’s soul straight to fucking hell.
You think you can control men to hurt and maim and abuse children all so you can feed off the misery? Not on my watch.
The thing half wearing Maddigan’s face steps forward, out of the shadows of the veranda. That’s when I notice it. There are more in there than just Maddigan. Glimpses of men I don’t know flicker across its face, never settling on one for too long before locking back into the face I know well.
It’s moving close to Dima, to the man who saves me with his presence and I want to rush forward, to move Dima out of its way, but the speed at which the thing moves is shocking.
One moment it’s there, nearing Dima, the next it’s in front of me.
I jolt at the shock of it being in my face, and also at the familiarity of it.
There’s more than just Maddigan in there, someone else I know is hiding there, but I’m just not sure who.
The thing tilts its head, as if studying me.
“You still think you can win this don’t you?
Your little guns and knives wont work against me, Krissssstiana.
” It moves behind me, the coldness of it seeping into my bones as it leans forward, its tongue darting out to lick my ear.
“Your little toyboy isn’t going to help you either. ”
Dima opens his mouth but nothing comes out.
He’s frozen as the thing wearing Maddigan’s face rushes to him, circling him and sniffing at his groin like a dog.
It turns to me, a lascivious smile on its face, “I can see why you like him.” Its hand darts out to rub Dima’s crotch, his cock soft behind his trousers.
“Ugh. Can’t get it up, huh? No matter. I’m not after that anyway.
I’m after this. Little. Gift. Right. Here.
” The thing walks its fingers up Dima’s body, tapping away on every word until its finger stops right at Dima’s temple before waving its hand in the air, slamming Dima into one of the huge white columns and pinning him against it.
It wants Dima’s gift. With a power like that it’ll be able to find whoever it wants. Catering for the tastes of depraved men willing to pay enough. Then it’ll feed off the terror.
“You’re sick. And mark my words. I will kill you.” I hoarsely sneer out. My throat is killing me but I will never show weakness.
“I don’t know how you can when I have your little gift.” it points to the virgin looking version of me, still standing like a dumbass in the middle of the garden. She could have run, and got some help, but no.
It curls its finger in a come hither motion but White Kristie stays rooted to the spot. And that’s when I see it. First, a spot of red on her gown. Then the spot grows, a dark red stain blooming across her chest. A look of peace comes over her face, and then turns to me, smiling softly.
My hand rises to my chest, as a slight ache begins there.
“Ved’ma Moya,” Dima calls, his voice returned. “Look at me.”
My gaze finds his, blazing blue staring into me, grounding me as I feel something pull me towards White Kristie, away from Dima.
“Stay with me, Kristie, stay with me.” Dima’s broken voice carries on the wind and terror flows through me because I’m right here. I’m right in front of him. I’m not going anywhere even if the pull toward the woman in white feels overwhelming.
A car door slams in the background, Dima’s head snapping in that direction.
His eyes widen and something akin to hope flares in his eyes.
The thing wearing Maddigan’s face drops its hand in surprise, a gross sneer pulling at its messed up features as my brother Gabe painfully shuffles closer, his leg dragging behind him as he places himself between The Thing and White Kristie.
The ache in my chest grows and my knees start to buckle, the only thing keeping me standing is Dima’s voice on the wind urging me to fight. Urging me to stay with him. I lock my knees, planting my feet even though the pain in my chest feels as if my heart is being torn out.
“Kristie! Ved’ma moya! Stay with me! Stay with me!” Dima screams.
The pain intensifies and then…nothing. Everything stops. The way it does just before a storm hits. Dima’s large hands wrap around my biceps, pulling me into his large body, his arm banding around me, hand over the residual ache in my chest.
“I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” he whispers over and over.
I’m not sure what happened, but I do know it has something to do with Gabe.
He’s standing between us and the thing, his lips moving, but I can’t hear a word he’s saying.
His gold eyes glow impossibly bright and the wind picks up, swirling around us, my hair whipping around my face, in stark contrast to Other Kristie.
Her gown and hair still, as if she is standing in the eye of the storm.
A pained screech fills the air, echoing off into the fading sun as the thing with all the faces rises in the air, limbs bent at impossible angles, back bowed as its bones crack, fingers curled with pain.
“It’s time for you all to leave,” Gabe commands, his voice strong as his gold eyes glow impossibly bright in the dimming light.
Shadows swirl around the thing’s body, darting this way and that, sulphur permeating the air until all that is left is Maddigan’s face on a small body, crumpling to the ground.
Gabe nods once at the form, then turns and shuffles toward white Kristie.
She smiles gently at him, allowing him to wrap her in his arms. He whispers something in her ear, and she nods, pulling back grinning at him.
Pressing his lips to her forehead she disappears in a puff of white, like a dandelion, floating away on the breeze.
The ache in my chest dissipates as I watch her float away, a feeling of pure joy working its way through my veins.
“You’re free to live now, little sister,” Gabe says, his gold eyes holding mine as a tear tracks down my cheek.
A whine and a splutter draws our attention to the broken figure on the ground, Gabe’s face morphing from gentle to pissed.
“You stole what wasn’t yours to take.” Gabe roars, his strength coming back to him with the release of those souls as he stands tall and raises a hand, willing the broken figure to stand on its shaky legs. “Time to rest now, brother,” he says quietly, slowly curling his hand into a fist.
I suck in a breath as Maddigan’s face crumbles and falls away from the form below it, like black sand, landing on the wooden boards of the grand house veranda, sifting between the cracks, leaving in its place someone I know very well.