Page 21 of Ghoul Huntress (Maelstrom Duology #2)

21

Something pitter-pattered through her brain.

She woke to them injecting more of whatever froze her blood and screamed, trying to batter them away, but they had her restrained. Her hands and legs would not move. She swore and swore until another substance felled her, ice in her veins, washing away reality.

Days of such torture seemed to follow, in fits and starts. Her eyes were sometimes open but unable to see or swivel. The actors in this play of horrors were her previous friends and lovers, and though she begged them to stop, they did not.

More injections. Food forced into her mouth when she could not see the spoon. The metal clinked on her teeth.

She swallowed, determined to get stronger so she could do very bad things to them all.

Until one day, or night, she opened her eyes, and the world stayed in place.

“Cyn?”

She blinked and looked at who this was, recognized them.

“Vargr?”

“Yes. We’re here. Been here all the time. It’s been five days. Maura says your demon nanites are finally in balance.”

“You…” She coughed, remembered the words. “You gave me angel nanites?”

“You heard that? She heard that.”

“Yeah.”

She licked her lips. “You are in so much trouble.” It came out croaky but was a nice threat.

He leaned sideways and spoke to another beaster, a huge horned one.

Rutger, oh, of course.

“Does she sound sane?”

“Too sane.”

Everything came flooding back. The battle, Willow, the queen taking off, and what she’d done to poor Mo. She’d killed him.

“I melted Mo,” she whispered squeakily. “Fuck.”

“Yeah. You also let a queen go. A scout saw it happen. Why?”

“Willow. Willow was there. God, I’m tired.”

She started to drift into sleep.

“Undo the restraints.”

“Hey, don’t worry about Little Mo. He’s okay.”

“Impoffible,” she whispered through numb lips, before drifting off.

“Not impossible. Or impoffible either.”

Next time she woke, they lifted her into a sitting position, and she realized she was on a rooftop with the stars out above.

“Nice.” Then a mechanical creature trotted up, clicking softly, blocking out the sky, shoving its cold nose into her face. Half the size of a pre-apocalypse puma, with twitching metal ears and yellow eyes, it withdrew but thumped a paw on her chest. Someone had coated it with a velvety black fur.

“Good morning, Miss Cyn,” it said in an almost familiar voice.

She squinted, held up her shaking hand and grabbed its ear. “Mo? Little Mo?”

It wriggled loose its ear and sat on its haunches, making it too short to see properly unless she sat higher. So she did, sliding her back up the lounge.

“It is I. Despite your apparent attempt to melt me I survived, due to a back-up. I cannot remember the attempted murder, actually.”

She smiled but remembered and grieved again at what she’d done to him.

“I’m so sorry, but so glad you’re alive! Do you… do you remember saying you would keep my soul safe?”

“I do.”

“Well, it worked. You saved it for me.” Someday, she would explain this better, because it was so very true, even if he had the comprehension of a child. Then she added quietly, “Thank you.”

“You are welcome.” Mo nodded slowly, looking wiser than the bot ever had as a spidery bot.

“Meet MechaMo. Remember the design Kiko was drawing?” Vargr leaned down and kissed her on the mouth before ceding position to Rutger who pushed him aside and kissed her too.

“Hi there, babe.”

“Babe? That again?” She rubbed over her face with her hands then put those hands on both of them—on their asses to be exact. “What did you all do to me?”

“Well. We saved you from becoming bad.” Vargr straightened, spine cracking, wings shifting. He reached back to scratch at his neck. “Angel nanites for one, though that was Maura’s idea. When we found you, did you know you’d gone stripy red all over?”

“No.”

“Well, you were. Scary chick. Fire was dripping off you everywhere…” He waved his arms like some swaying underwater seaweed. “Your eyes were this pure mean-ass red. Well, you’re not that now.” He folded his arms.

“No?”

“Yeah. Prettier now. Definitely. Now you’ve half angel and half demon nanites. It took days for them to stabilize.” He looked across her to Rutger, who nodded.

This was sounding ominous. She lay back into the sun lounge. A sun lounge beneath a starry sky. But she was alive. “So what color am I now? My arms are more white than anything. Though when she looked closer, she had scattered fronds of paler pink, like she’d rested against a wall of freshly painted pink plants.

“You’re…” He glanced at Rutger. “You?”

“Coward. You’re very pale with other bits. Sort of.”

They both looked nervous. “Fuck. Get me a mirror STAT.”

“Here.” Maura strolled up. “I thought you might want one.”

“The lady with the ice sword.” Cyn narrowed her eyes but took the offered circular hand-mirror. “Any other secrets?”

“No. Not yet. It was the bastardium in the etched blade. It has some weird but interesting effects.”

“Do tell.”

“I’m glad this worked on you, Cyn. I would’ve missed you, my friend.” Maura smiled and the joy in that smile became her, changed her.

She was a beautiful woman with her blue-and-white living hair, blue-threaded skin, and that strong but elegant way of walking and holding herself. Somewhen, somehow, Maura had turned into a fae ice princess.

“I’m sorry, but I told no one about the sword. It seemed too dangerous, and I wasn’t sure it meant anything at first. Fae plus bastardium leads to all sorts of other things.”

Things ? She wanted to know more about the things.

She held up the mirror. Vampire level paleness, check. And pink whorls that ran across her face and neck like one of those contour maps of the land but drawn in pink. Pink? Fuck. She pursed her lips, tilted her head this way and that. Really, it looked like she was a badass toy doll.

It must be the angel nanites? She recalled a brilliant white in the syringes used to inject her. Mix red and white and she guessed it gave you pink.

There were probably worse side-effects one could have. Death, for example.

Cyn inhaled, thought about how she felt internally. Not that different. Good. Pretty heroic, considering her traumas. But was the world a better place with her in it?

“I let a Ghoul Lord go free to spread its vileness across the universe. Damn.” Frowning, she screwed up her mouth and looked from Maura to Vargr to Rutger.

Little MechaMo butted under her arm and peered at her with those creepy yellow eyes.

Smirking, she gave him a pat. “I’m okay.”

Rutger shrugged. “It’s in the past. Let it go. Look to the future.”

“I guess?” Then she sat up, shooing away all their hands, swung her legs off the lounge, and slowly she stood. Not one bit of shake, no unsteadiness. She raised her right hand to eye level and wiggled her fingers.

Would it be asking too much to get pink fire?

“I haven’t said thank you, properly, for not abandoning me.” She felt almost shy looking from Rutger to Vargr, as if this was wrong or weird.

“Abandoning you? What?” Vargr angled his head, looked to Rutger. “We should spank her, yes?”

She laughed then smiled at them and opened her arms. They came to her and she kissed them everywhere she could reach as she said thank you, over and over, and hugged them as if she would never let them go.