22. Still Saturday
STILL SATURDAY
IN WHICH DESSA IS A SWEET-TALKER
Dessa’s eyes fluttered open to find herself in what looked like a dark shed with a weak flashlight on the ground in the corner.
While pleasantly surprised to find herself alive, her mouth was dry and her head pounded.
Rope bound her hands and feet, but there, not ten feet away from her, was Carly Jowett.
“Carly!” Dessa whispered, scooting closer.
Though Carly was thinner than she’d been in the photos from three weeks ago, Dessa couldn’t see any blatant injuries, and her chest rose and fell with the evenness of sleep.
Dessa nudged her with her foot, desperately trying to get her to wake up, but the girl didn’t stir. Was she drugged?
The door to the shed slammed open, and Dessa pushed herself back against the wall, the Vampire, Jean Marc, now glaring down on her, his whole body shaking violently.
“You were smart to find one of my work houses.” Jean Marc’s words slurred together. “I told him it was only a matter of time. That I’m falling apart. But he doesn’t care. Don’t worry though, I won’t go back to that one.”
“Wait, what?” Dessa tried to process his mumbles with her foggy brain. If they weren’t at the address she’d mass-texted to half of the PC, then she was properly screwed. “Who did you tell? How’d you know I’d figured out where you were?”
“Emails, emails, emails.” Jean Marc paced in agitation, tugging at his tie as if it were strangling him. “Easy to read.”
Um, they definitely weren’t. The AzRIO used a secure server for their official emails, but of course, technically everything was hackable, and she’d contacted at least six different offices.
If there was a leak, it would be difficult to pinpoint.
Though, she’d bet a vat of coffee Werach’s password was taped to his monitor. “Okay, but why is Carly here?”
“Because you asked for her, so I brought her, didn’t I?
She said you can help.” Jean Marc scratched at his arms, his movements growing wilder.
“Because I need you to stop this. I can’t do it anymore.
” His head jerked to one side over and over as he spat out the words.
“Even now, I’m losing control again.” He raked his fingers across his face with a muted yell.
Dessa eyed him as she furiously tried to work her hands free from her bonds. “Jean Marc, why don’t you untie Carly and me, and then we’ll see how we can help you.”
“No, no, no.” Jean Marc’s head swung back and forth. “Then it will be too late. You have to help me now.”
“Why do you think I can help you?” Dessa tried not to wince as the rope cut into her skin, but the fibers were stretching, and she angled her body to shield her actions.
“Because you’re Uncanny; she said you were!” The Vampire stabbed a finger at Carly, the violence in his eyes beginning to burn.
He wasn’t making any sense, but Dessa’s hands were free.
Using slow movements, she slipped her pocketknife out and cut her feet loose.
She wouldn’t be able to outrun this guy, but at least now she had a chance.
If she could distract him, maybe she could bring back help for Carly.
As it was, there was no way Dessa would be able to carry her out on her own.
“Okay, okay, just tell me what you want me to do,” Dessa said, trying to keep her voice soothing.
Jean Marc had the grayish pallor of a Vampire that hadn’t eaten in some time, and whatever was wrong with him, she certainly didn’t want to remind him that he had two potential nutrition stores at his disposal.
“I don’t know,” Jean Marc cried, his hands tearing at his shaggy hair.
“Free me from him. I don’t want to do this anymore.
” He pulled up his sleeve, and Dessa winced at the branding spell on his arm.
Hexxer work. While she was fuzzy on the details, it basically was the physical manifestation of some kind of deal, often used to trick people into slavery.
She shifted the pocketknife in her hand, pity flitting through her. “Who did this to you? I need a name. Who’s him?”
“I don’t know!” Jean Marc bellowed, his limbs flailing like a child having a tantrum.
“I’m sorry, I can’t help you if I don’t know what you want.”
And it was the exact wrong thing to say.
Jean Marc snapped to her, his eyes now deadly calm. “If you can’t fix me, then I’ll have to deliver you.” The sigil on his arm glowed red, and Dessa’s eyes widened. She was in deep sh—
Jean Marc lunged for her, and Dessa just barely managed to spring out of the way as she buried her knife into his back.
He roared in pain, and she burst through the door.
Her gut twinged with the guilt of leaving Carly, but she had to take care of Jean Marc first. Surely he had to have a car here, but she couldn’t see anything through the trees.
There was no road, no car, and no indication of which way civilization was. So Dessa ran blindly into the woods as the shed door slammed open behind her, and Jean Marc pursued.
He let out a bitter laugh. “Be smart, girl, you’ll never outlast me.”
And he was right. Adrenaline shot through Dessa as she scrambled for options.
Carly said she could help this guy, but she still had no idea how.
She did have one last desperation move in her arsenal though, impatiently waiting and now begging to be used.
It probably wouldn’t work, but it now stood between her and death, roaring within her not to go down without a fight.
Screaming that she hadn’t survived the bloody marshes of her senior year to let Carly die now.
She refused to live with one more Jowett’s life on her conscience, with more regrets and what-ifs.
And if she died here, at least she would die fighting.
At least she could say she died with nothing left to give.
She came to a juddering halt and spun on her heel. “You know what, I just realized I can help you.”
The Vampire closed the distance between them in the blink of an eye, his hand around her throat all over again and the sigil glowing on his arm. “Oh, no, no, Dessa McKinney, I’m afraid it’s much too late for that.”
Alone in the woods with a murderer, Dessa had no choice but to try for the impossible. This time she didn’t hesitate.
She folded her hand over the Vampire’s wrist, and her gift came alive within her, leaping with the need to be used.
Salivating at this chance. Even though this wasn’t a vulnerable Nesci, her magic swelled with her desperate adrenaline, meeting the challenge.
Like a lion hunting another lion instead of a gazelle.
More difficult, yes, but maybe still possible?
She concentrated on that living gift within her, the scent of oranges and cloves—her own unique magic scent soaking through the air. Internally, she wove it within her, sending it through her fingers and into Jean Marc.
His own magic resisted, but not enough. Not with the pain and desperation and focus bursting through her. Sweat popped on her skin as she forced herself to meet his gaze, every inch of her straining to control her gift. To force it into this one command––this one compulsion.
“Jean Marc. Go. To. Sleep,” she gritted out.
For a moment, he held her gaze, his eyes widening with something like confusion, and the panic in Dessa rose.
He was too strong; this wasn’t going to work.
“You’re so tired, Jean Marc,” she continued, infusing the magic into her voice until it came out tangy and sticky-sweet.
“Close your eyes. Curl up in the soft, cool moss. And sleep.”
A sickening beat passed between them with Dessa on the verge of passing out, either from the drain of the magic or his sharp nails still digging into her already-sore neck.
But then his eyelids dropped closed, and his hand fell limp at his side. Ever so slowly, he laid himself down on the forest floor, his chest quietly rising with smooth, steady breaths.
It worked. Holy hell—she could barely believe it.
Dessa sucked in cool air, adrenaline careening through her veins.
Her mind couldn’t even comprehend the implications of what she’d just done.
She watched him for only a second to make sure he didn’t rise before staggering back toward the shed.
Her knife was nowhere in sight, and she had no idea how long her magic would hold him.
Still, if she could wake Carly up, maybe they could—
Her legs wobbled and then buckled beneath her, leaving her sprawled on the underbrush only a few paces from Jean Marc.
Dessa tried to push herself up, but her stomach heaved with the effort.
Was this a side effect of using her power on the Vampire?
Though her compulsion on Nescients had always left her pleasantly drained, like after a good workout, it had never affected her like this.
She barely made it over to a tree trunk and pressed her back up against the smooth bark, trying to calm her fragmenting thoughts as dawn lightened the forest around her.
She and Carly had to make a break for it before Jean Marc woke up. They had to put distance between them and this place. After all, it sounded like he wasn’t working alone, and if his partner came along, they were totally screwed all over again.
Except she couldn’t move and no one, including her, knew where she was. Her gaze flicked over to where Jean Marc still lay sleeping. Any second now, he might wake up, cross the measly fifteen feet between them, and kill her.
It had to be the most underwhelming mortal race of all time—who would recover first? Her stomach sank even as the first real rays of sunlight drifted through the trees, because, though she had saved herself for a moment, the day was far from over.
Dessa slumped against the tree’s rough bark. All she could now do was sit and wait.
Worst Saturday morning ever.