The Darkest Touch

But it was the first time in a very long time she’d felt no hint of depression or anguish or distress or a thousand other variations of Misery. She closed her eyes and savored, breathing in air that suddenly smelled fresher and basking in the warmth of a sun that no longer seemed to burn too hot.

But all too soon, a plug was pulled and the anger drained. The sadness returned. Always, it returned.

Never had she been able to feel any sort of enjoyment...or amusement...or happiness for more than a few seconds. Mostly she was bombarded with little irritants throughout any given day. A sound that was too loud, too constant. A temperature that wasn’t quite right. An ache in her chest that wouldn’t go away. Each worked together to build into something truly terrible: a misery that couldn’t be fought.

It was a truly awful existence.

Why don’t you just give up?

The demon’s words, not her own. Screw you.

She wouldn’t give the bastard the pleasure.

Lazarus didn’t say a word as she pushed back into gear, and that saved his life.

They came to an abandoned grocery store that hadn’t yet toppled. Dust covered the cracked glass door. She palmed one of her weapons and brushed away the dust to peer inside. No lights. Only darkness. But no shadows were moving, and she made her way inside.

“I wonder if the pharmacy is stocked,” Lazarus said.

“Going to get high?”

“Going to grab you some of that Zoloft we talked about.”

Hate him.

She grabbed one of the carts and stalked down the aisles, forgoing the cans of fruit and bottles of water even though she hadn’t eaten in days and her stomach was grumbling with hunger. She went right to the refrigerator section, and after draining two cans of beer, threw a couple of six-packs in the cart. Then she went to the candy aisle.

Gummy bears. Red Hots. SweetTarts. Cartons of sour gumballs. But no chocolate.

Why me?

Lazarus threw in a jar of peanuts, a plastic gun and a pair of fake handcuffs.

“Seriously?” she said.

“What? I like to play cops and robbers.”

“I am not playing cops and robbers with you.”

“Like it’s really a game I’d play with you.”

I’m a calm, rational woman—her new mantra. “I don’t see anyone else around. Do you?”

“Of course I do.”

She stiffened. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He sighed as though dejected. “I thought you were freakishly brave, unconcerned by what was happening around us, but it turns out you’re just blind. It’s almost heartbreaking.” He placed a hand over his heart. “I hate to break it to you, sunshine, but your cool points just took a nosedive.”

“Tell me!” she insisted. The last time he’d told her she wasn’t really looking at what was taking place around them, there’d been a bona fide behemoth in their vicinity.

“I’ll do you one better. I’ll show you.” Suddenly serious, Lazarus bent down, putting them nose-to-nose, and peered into her eyes. “I can see spirits and I can share the ability for a short time by linking my mind to yours. You’re welcome.”

She tried to look away—he was too intense, too mesmerizing, and every instinct she possessed screamed that if she wasn’t careful, she would completely lose herself and never be found. But he gripped her by the chin and held her in place, forcing the connection to remain.

Little flames leaped to life in those black, bottomless orbs of his. Crackling, smoking. Literally smoking. Tendrils wafted from him and saturated the air between them. Every time she breathed, she caught the scent of peat and ash. Her mind fogged, and her thoughts derailed. He became all that she saw, all that she knew.

All that she wanted.

“What are you...doing... Stop,” she said, and thought she might be swaying on her feet.

He released her, breaking the spell. She blinked rapidly, and shook her head. The fog cleared. The intoxicating scent faded.

“Look,” he said, his tone grim.

“Don’t ever do—” What the hell? What were those things?

They. Were. Everywhere. Alligator bodies, human heads—human zombie heads. They were climbing the shelves, inching across the floor, and each one was staring at her as if she’d make a delicious all-you-can-eat buffet.

“Did you know that nearly two hundred thousand people die a day?” she said, voice strangely devoid of emotion. “In our world, I mean. Our other world.”

“And since there are only the two of us left in this one, we’re definitely next. Is that what you’re trying to say?”

She palmed both of her daggers. “No. I’m saying I’m going to meet today’s quota by killing those things.”

* * *

BADEN, THE FORMER keeper of Distrust, stood in the center of a circle of boulders. A jacked-up version of Stonehenge. Between each of the boulders was a wall of fog, and playing over the different areas of fog were movielike scenes. Scenes from the lives of his friends.

Cameo needed his help. She couldn’t see past her companion’s rugged exterior, didn’t know he was more of a monster than the ones surrounding her. And Baden couldn’t tell her. He was trapped here.

Life pretty much sucked because he wasn’t just trapped, he was trapped with Cronus, the former keeper of Greed, and Rhea, the former keeper of Strife, both displaced royalty on the lookout for a humble servant. Not gonna find one here. And then there was Pandora. She’d never been a demon-keeper, lucky girl, but she’d always been a pain.