Chapter Fourteen
Will blinked, disturbed by the sudden thought… even though he meant it.
A chuckle from where Darryl was resting against the far bench drew Will’s attention. It was impressive that he could hear the zombie over the volume of the music, but then Darryl was practically king of magic these days. If he wanted to be heard, he no doubt could.
He was watching Will with keen eyes and a discerning expression.
Will felt the need to clear his throat. But he didn’t. Instead, he stared right back. And Darryl’s grin broadened. He turned his attention to Liam. “I told you you’d love it,” the zombie warlock said, looking from one cousin to the other. “And she’s only getting started.”
Once the car’s working mechanisms and body were repaired, new tires flew from a pile on a shelf and affixed themselves to its rims. Next came the windows. That was a sight to behold.
First, the main garage metal door slid open, its well-oiled wheels slipping almost soundlessly in their grooves. Then tiny diamond-like chunks of shattered windows from a hundred different cars came flying in from all around the dark junkyard. For this, Will and Liam stepped as far back against the walls as they could get.
The glass shimmered into place in the frames on the car, and filled in the spaces like puzzle pieces. Before long, every inch was complete. There was a flash, and the shards smoothed magically out to become a solid windshield, a solid back window, and four perfect side windows.
Liam’s jaw was hanging open, his eyes wide as saucers. Will had no idea where this magic of Helena’s was coming from. As far as he’d learned in his thirteen years of being a warden, what she was doing was impossible. It wasn’t doable magic to conjure something out of nothing. But as he watched, the paint job on the vehicle slowly reappeared. Inch by inch, as sparks flew and fire was drawn in shimmering shades of green on the vehicles sides, the ’67 Shelby went from the sheer underside of metal to the mat gray of primer and finally the liquid perfect shine of a professional black paint job. It was at last completed with metal flake green flames eating up either door and half the hood. Emerald fire.
That full, familiar, and uncomfortable buzzing was back in Will’s head as he stared at the rebuilt vehicle. But it fortunately passed quickly.
The reconstruction of the classic car seemed to have been timed perfectly with the music. Just as the song was fading out, the vehicle lowered steadily to the ground, the glow left Helena’s outstretched upturned hands, and her eyes opened. When all was silent and still once more, it felt like a vacuum had sucked the air out of the room. It was tense. Quiet. Everyone watched the smiling miracle worker as she flicked her hand casually at the record player, lifting the arm off the vinyl to replace it in its cradle. She then made her way around the now absolutely stunning piece of art that was the 1967 Mustang Shelby.
“There now,” she said softly, her voice like music of its own. “That wasn’t so bad, was it Angel? And you’ve got a few upgrades,” she said, chuckling. The sound sent warm, delicious sensations through Will. He felt his gaze darken. He felt himself darken, changing inside. Just watching her, just listening to her. At that moment in time, if he’d had one wish and one wish only, it would have been that he and Helena could be together. That she was his gift – not Cain’s. They could get married. Buy a house somewhere next to a river or a lake or the goddamned ocean. Get a dog.
Start a family.
“She named the car,” he whispered. She was the kind of girl who named cars. The extra similarity between Helena and Liam was like an ice pick through some previously unnoticed part of his soul. He swallowed hard against the pain it caused and glanced at his cousin. But Liam was moving to the passenger side door, his attention one hundred and twenty percent focused on what was happening at the center of the garage.
Helena popped open the driver’s side door and climbed into the car with practiced and fluid grace, then leaned over to manually roll down the passenger side window. She rolled down her own next, and closed her door. Everything fit tight and perfect. She’d done an impossibly good job renovating the vehicle.
Liam grasped the top of the passenger side door, curling his fingers over it. He leaned against it and looked back over his shoulder at Darryl. “She’s about to take it for a test drive, isn’t she?” he asked the warlock.
“Most likely,” said Darryl. He pushed off the work bench and squinted at Helena and the situation. “But if you’re thinking of joining her, you’ve forgotten that you’re solid. You can’t very well open that door without her noticing.”
“So transport us inside,” he said. “I call shotgun.” Liam turned around and pinned Will with a hard look over the hood of the car. I dare you to argue, the look said.
Will felt torn. Something was waking up inside him.
Darryl seemed to consider the request a moment. He gave the car a long look. “You realize the risks. I mean, she so much as notices the indentation in the seat next to her and you’re screwed.”
Liam turned and leaned back into the car, slipping his head through the now-open window. He looked in the back seat, then down at the passenger seat. “Leather bucket, tight weave. There won’t be an indentation. And I’ll make sure the music is loud enough any creaking leather won’t be heard.” He stood again and faced Darryl once more. “Sound good?”
Darryl sighed. “Very well.” He lifted his hand and snapped his fingers.
Will found himself in the back seat of the newly renovated vehicle, directly behind his cousin. The position set off a dichotomous reaction in Will. He was strangely irritated with Liam taking charge despite the fact that Will had all but begged him to do so when he’d told him he should be the one to work the spell on Helena. Plus behind Liam, his legs were a little squished. Well, a lot squished. But he was also pleasantly surprised to find that from this position behind Liam, he had an unobstructed view of Helena.
Beside him on the left sat the warlock, and when Will glanced at him it was to find Darryl smiling knowingly. The undead magic user leaned over and whispered in Will’s ear. “Personally, I think she’s more like you than you realize.”
Will didn’t have a chance to respond, because Helena turned the key and ignited the engine at that moment, and the roar filled the garage. It was a gas-guzzling sound, one he knew Liam was particularly fond of, and apparently so was Helena, because she grinned ear to ear. Then she popped a cassette tape into the car’s stereo – old school car and old school renovation – and turned up the volume. AC/DC’s Thunderstruck blasted over the speakers, filling up what was left of any silence in the garage.
Another of his favorite songs. Maybe Darryl was right.
Next she shoved the clutch down with a strong leg, shifted into a new gear, took her foot slowly off the brake, and smoothly pulled them out of the garage.
Liam turned around in the front seat and shot Will a killer smile before mouthing the easily discernible words, “That’s my girl.”
Will’s jaw clenched.
There were trees lining the driveway outside the garage, and when they hit the street, the road they were on was a single lane. The speed limit was relatively low. Will glanced out the window to find deep darkness punctuated by relatively few street and home lights. “Where are we?” he asked, his voice tight. It definitely didn’t look like Chicago out there.
“Just outside Davenport, Illinois,” replied Darryl.
Will frowned. “Isn’t that about a hundred miles away from Chicago?”
“Yes, it is,” he said.
“So… it takes her two hours to drive into and home from work every day?”
Darryl chuckled. “Not the way she drives.”
As if to prove his point, Helena then leaned over and patted the car’s dashboard. “Buckle up, Angel,” she said softly. “We’re going for a ride.”
There was something about the way she said it.
In the front seat, Liam’s eyes widened a little, and in a completely non-Liam manner, he glanced to his right for a seatbelt. Will found himself doing the same. But the back seat didn’t have any. And as for the front, the belt was divided between a shoulder strap and a separate lap strap. Either of which would become a dead giveaway to their ghostly presence in the car if Liam were to utilize them.
So Liam grabbed the “Oh shit” bar on the ceiling of the car, and Will braced himself with an arm against the door and a hand against the seat beside him, and both men swallowed hard.
Helena leaned back in her seat, down-shifted, and just as her right boot sent the car into a growling acceleration, she took her hand off the gearshift, reaching out ahead toward the highway in front of them. Will watched in shocked silence as the road ahead began to blur, followed by the street lights, which stretched into lines on either side of the car. It was like being in the Millennium Falcon as Han shifted into light speed.
“What the –” His sentence went unfinished. There was a blinding flash that made him recoil and shut his eyes. When he opened them again, the car was roaring with unhindered speed beneath them, and the highway ahead dissected a vast desert under a clear night sky, complete with a bright full moon.
The occupants of the car for the most part sat in wonder of the sudden, inexplicable change. Helena quietly drove, kicking the vehicle into thoroughly illegal speeds, but handling it as if she’d done it a thousand times. The stereo continued to blare, wind whipped through the open windows, and the dry night air was almost relaxing.
“So,” Liam finally said, breaking the silence. “She can teleport.” He looked over the seat at Darryl. “Like a sentinel. And you.”
Darryl smiled. “Not like a sentinel,” he said. “Because she’s only coming into her powers, remember. And even now, she can transport not only herself, but a large object and everything inside.” He winked. “So you’re more apt with your second comparison.”
Something unsettling moved through Will as he watched Liam’s face. Liam looked from Darryl to Helena, who just continued to drive, enjoying the peace that must have been coming to her from the wind, the music, the freedom.
“Darryl, exactly how powerful is this woman going to get?” Liam asked.
That unsettled feeling grew stronger in Will. He knew what Liam was thinking. He knew why he was asking what he was asking. And he didn’t like it one bit. Liam was the kind of warden who liked to nip trouble in the bud, in effect stopping it at its roots to prevent it from doing any further harm once and for all. In other words, when something was too frightening – i.e., too powerful – it was Liam’s preference to simply destroy it.
The undead warlock sighed. “How strong is fate, Spiky? If you think about it, it’s the strongest thing in the multiverse. Because it always wins. It’s basically what happens. Every time. It’s the end, the outcome, good or bad. So I’d say… pretty bloody strong.”
Will absolutely knew what Liam was going to say next, and every muscle in his body tensed hard against it. He felt as though he were ready to reach across the seat and punch his cousin in the back of the head just for thinking it, and when Liam finally gave his words voice, it took everything Will had not to attack.
“Then shouldn’t she be able to defeat Cain?” Liam asked without taking his eyes off Helena.
Will went still. He felt utterly floored.
That was not what he’d expected Liam to say. Not at all. He’d been positive Liam was feeling threatened by Helena. He’d been certain his cousin was going to consider her a dangerous monster and tell them all they had no choice but to end her before she ended someone else.
“Well now that’s the bugger of the situation, isn’t it?” asked Darryl calmly. He leaned further back in the leather seat and pinned Liam with a look. “If the situation were different, she probably could. Hell, she could probably kick the shit out of all three of us and still take on Cain.” He shrugged. “But she won’t. Because she was made for him. And therein lies her weakness.” He leaned forward now, and closed his eyes to inhale the scent of Helena’s hair.
Will and Liam watched in mounting discomfort as he did this.
“She can’t. Against him, she’s utterly, positively helpless.” He grinned and glanced over at them. “That’s why we’re here, remember?” he said, leaning back once more. “To protect her from him.”
“Damn it,” he and Liam said at the same time. Probably because they realized the same thing simultaneously.
“You’re playing both sides,” Will said.
“As long as she remains unclaimed, she can be sold,” Liam said, putting two and two together. “You fully planned to betray her for the right price.”
“Well now,” said Darryl defensively, but dismissively. “That’s the very definition of the right price, is it not?”
Will glared, and his eyes began to hurt. It was as if they were literally heating in his skull. When Darryl looked over at him, he blinked in something like surprise. But Will was too focused on his anger to pay it much heed. “What exactly is the right price for you, Darryl? Do you think Cain can bring you all the way back into the world of the living?”
Darryl stared at him a long moment, and for all the world it appeared he grew even paler in the dim light. Then he said, “If anyone can… it’s him.”