Dangerous Creatures

CHAPTER 26 Back in Black

Looks bad. Worse, even. You think there’s some kinda hex on her or somethin’?” Link was wide-eyed, staring at Necro as she lay on the bed. He looked horrified.

Lucille Ball, circling him, looked even more so.

Floyd scrambled to her feet to look at the wound. She nodded. “It looks way worse than yesterday.”

“Bigger. Blacker.” Sampson nodded. “A hex would be my bet.” He examined the wound more closely. “I’m guessing the blade that did this was Charmed. And that the cut isn’t what’s making her sick. The Cast is. All it would take would be a nick.”

He shrugged. Floyd and Link looked at each other.

“He’s got a point,” Link said. “Nec might not have noticed an itty-bitty cut. She probably would have noticed slittin’ her own throat, if it had looked like this when she first got it.”

“Either way, we can’t help her until we know what’s wrong with her,” said Floyd.

“But if she’s all hexed up, how are we goin’ to be able to figure it out?” Link glanced over at Sampson. He didn’t like the guy, and he didn’t understand him. But he was in the band, so as far as Link was concerned, he was one of them.

Wasn’t that how it worked?

“You got any ideas, Sammy?” Link asked the Darkborn. “If you do, speak up. ’Cause I got nothin’.”

Sampson’s eyes flickered from Necro to Link. “I don’t get involved with Caster business.”

Link was flabbergasted. “But she’s your friend.”

Sampson stared straight ahead. “Not really.”

Link shook his head. “What’s wrong with you, man?”

Sampson shrugged. “It’s the Darkborn way. We aren’t Casters.”

“Yeah, well, your way sucks.” Link was pretty clear on that point.

“You can say whatever you want, but I know you’re my friend,” Floyd said. “I know you’re Necro’s friend. You’ve been with us for too long, at too many clubs now—”

“Two. It’s been two clubs,” Sampson corrected her. He folded his arms, obstinate.

“It doesn’t matter. She’d do it for you, and so would I.” She glanced at Link. “And so would Link.”

Link looked at her. “That’s right. I’m here for you, man. And I’d do just about anythin’ if you were the one lyin’ on that bed.”

Sampson didn’t say anything.

Floyd nodded at Link.

He tried again. “Yeah, so. There’s that. And… you know… whenever this world is cruel to me, I got you to help me forgive.”

Sampson raised an eyebrow. “Says Queen. Now you’re just quoting song lyrics.”

Link clapped him on the back. “Awesome. You got it. And that, my main man, is why we’re in a band together.”

Silence.

Floyd nodded again. Well?

Link shrugged. I got nothin’.

Sampson sighed. “Fine. But don’t get me involved. You don’t owe me, and I don’t owe you. And we aren’t friends.”

“Fine.” Link held out his hand. “We aren’t friends. Let’s shake on it.”

Sampson ignored him and glanced back at Necro. Then he looked Floyd dead in the eye. “I don’t know how to help her. But I can tell you who did this to her.”

“Who?” Floyd swallowed.

“More like what,” Sampson said. “I might be immune to Incubus and Caster powers, but I can still feel them. Your powers make you all feel different, and I can sense it.”

“What are you talkin’ about?” Link frowned.

Sampson nodded at Floyd. “Floyd feels like a roller coaster. If I pick up something she’s touched, I feel sick to my stomach. Dizzy.”

“Gee, thanks. I love you, too, Frankenstein.”

“Link, you feel more like a bad rash.”

Floyd’s mouth twisted into a smile, short-lived as it was. Link glared at her.

Sampson ignored both of them. “You make me itch—it’s uncomfortable. Like poison oak. I think it’s the clash between your powers and your powerlessness. Hybrids always feel like that.”

“Maybe you’re just allergic to good looks and musical genius?” Part of Link wanted to beat the guy up. But the rest of Link wanted to hear what he had to say, even more.

“Maybe.” Sampson shrugged. “I don’t like Incubuses much, either.”

“Okay. We’re gettin’ somewhere.”

“What about Necro?” Floyd asked.

Sampson reached for her hand and took it. “She feels still and cold, usually. Calm. It’s not a bad feeling. More like floating, maybe in a lake.”

“Have you ever been in a lake?” Link looked at him. “Because it’s pretty much none a those things.”

“Let the man talk,” Floyd said. She looked at Sampson. “What do you feel now?”

“She’s still there, cold as the Underground. But I can feel the Charm. It’s heat and fire—sharp and strong. And something else.”

“What?” Floyd sounded anxious.

Link reached out his hand and put it on Sampson’s shoulder. “Seriously, man. You’re killin’ us. Spit it out.”

“Sweet,” Sampson said. “It’s sweet. Like burning sugar. I think—”

“Don’t say it.” Link sounded grim. “You don’t have to say it.”

“A Siren,” Sampson said. “And we’ve only been around one of those.”

“That we know of,” Link snapped.

“Would she do something like that?” Floyd was wide-eyed. She stepped away from Link, as if the fact of his knowing Ridley was itself somehow contagious.

“No. Never.” Link was sure of it.

“Your Siren’s never hurt anyone before? Even if she didn’t mean to?” Floyd looked doubtful.

Link didn’t answer.

She never means any harm.

Much.

“Because if that’s true, Link, she’s the first Siren in the history of the world who could say that.” Floyd sounded bitter.

“It wasn’t her, Floyd, I know it. She wouldn’t have done it.”

“You’re just whipped. You can’t even see it.”

Link brushed her off. “What does it matter, anyway? Rid’s gone now. Knowing if she did it doesn’t help Necro.”

“Of course it matters. I need to know whose ass to kick,” Floyd snapped.

Sampson shook his head. “Floyd’s right, Link. You don’t get it. Only the Siren who did this to Necro can undo it. You can’t save her if you can’t find the person who tricked out that knife.” He looked at Link. “Necro’s running out of time.”

“You think you can find her? Ridley?” Floyd asked.

Link looked bummed. “She just took off. I have no idea where she is. But I’m telling you, it wasn’t her.”

Sampson practically growled. “You’re sweet, Incubus.”

Link grabbed Sampson by the collar of his shirt. “Listen up, Maybelline. I know Rid, and she didn’t do this. I swear on my life.”

Sampson looked at him calmly. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

Link flexed his hands, releasing Sampson’s shirt. “Sorry, man.”

As he pulled his hand away, his Binding Ring began to glow again—this time turning from red to a pulsing golden color.

Link stared at it, holding it in front of his face. Floyd and Sampson watched the ring change colors.

“What’s that?” Floyd reached out for it, letting pink glow spill across her fingers. “It’s sort of beautiful.”

“Old magic,” Sampson said. “And powerful. It doesn’t feel like anything else. Not that I’ve encountered.”

Link held up his hand. It glowed color after color, as if it had suddenly come to life. “I think this thing is tryin’ to tell me somethin’. That, or it just wants to burn my finger off.”

“Let it tell you, whatever it is.” Floyd stared at the ring like it really was made of fire.

Link held his arm with his other hand. “It’s pullin’ me out the door.”

“Whoa,” Floyd said.

“Then follow it,” Sampson said as the ring lit up the room.

“I think I know how to find Ridley,” Link said slowly. “Or at least, I think the ring does.”

Floyd turned toward the bed. “Don’t worry, Necro. We’ll be right back.” She straightened Necro’s blankets, then grabbed her leather jacket. “Let’s go.”

“You’ll stay with her?” Link looked at Sampson, who nodded.

“One thing.” Floyd stopped Link when they got to the door. “I don’t care if she’s your girlfriend or not. We’re going to find that Siren and kick her ass.”

Link didn’t say a word.

He didn’t have to.

If Ridley had anything to do with this, it wouldn’t be Floyd who dealt with her.

“Hold on.”

Link stopped for his backpack. He just needed to get one thing. Burning ring or impatient Illusionist or wounded Necromancer—or not.

A rusty old pair of gardening shears.

If Ridley was involved in something this Dark, there had to be a reason. And if there was a reason, well, it wasn’t likely it was a good one.

Better to be prepared.