16. Mabel

Chapter 16

Igasp as between one step and the next, we shift, and suddenly I'm the one in the cage, not Creepy.

But I can still see the dead.

I stop in my tracks, staring at the ghostly figures around me. I've only seen the dead once when Huck was having his nightmare, but they'd been nothing more than mist. I've never been able to see them like Creepy can. Our gifts are different. Like how Ghastly has tentacles and Zeb doesn't. We're not the same creatures, even though we live in the same skin.

Yet now Creepy and I are sharing in a way we never have before, and I think maybe it's not just because we found the others to help us have balance.

It's because of me. Because I stopped pushing her down, stopped letting myself be pulled under by unconsciousness when she was the one in control of our body.

We're not each other's alter ego anymore. We're Creepy Mabel in truth, not just name.

And she's letting me take control.

Pink light and mist flare around my hands. The energy grows, crackling like lightning around my forearms.

My eyes lift to the room again. If the rest of that asshole's crew are in this building, they almost certainly heard him screaming. So even if the traders are regrouping, they'll be in here soon.

"Will you be okay?" I ask the ghosts around me.

They smile, and the little girl with the heart-shaped face nods. She might be a fae. I can't be sure. But she glances at the others before turning back to me. "We want to help."

My brow climbs. Well, then…

The ghosts pull back, making space as I stride out of the cage. I scan the room while I descend the steps from the elevated platform to the main floor, and I spot a few little black boxes that might be cameras perched up high in the shadows.

So the bad guys could be watching us right now.

Okay.

Bright-pink lightning flies from my hands, lashing out across the room like crackling arrows shooting out around me all at the same time. The devices pop and scatter, blown apart by the blasts and leaving only smoking scorch marks on the walls where they were anchored.

In my head, Creepy smiles.

I do the same. That felt good.

Turning my attention to the little keypad by the door, I lift a hand.

The door bursts open before I can let our magic go.

People in black tactical gear rush into the room, and it's not a stretch to guess they're traders or the crew's security. It's not just the weapons or the fact they're here.

It's the misty spirits hovering above and around them, thrashing like trapped birds that can't break free.

The tactical team levels their guns at me, and the one in the lead shouts, "Get on the ground now!"

Sure.

I smile as I sink to the cold concrete, buying time, and when I speak, Creepy's singsong rattle carries through my voice. "Dead around those I see. Kill the killers and be set free."

Magic shivers through my veins.

Screams break out in the room. I press myself fully to the floor as bullets rake the chairs and walls, fired wildly by the tactical team at the attackers they can't see.

The gunfire trails off. The room stills.

I shove to my feet. My arms are speckled with blood, and my hair is too. Ordinarily, Creepy flickers in and out of view to avoid that, I recall. I should figure out if I can do that too.

But first…

I veer around the pooled blood and the bodies as I head into the hallway. Most of the doors are closed, giving me no clue whether my men are inside.

The ghosts nearest to me glance at each other, and I get the strangest sense they're communicating. But before I can ask, the girl with the heart-shaped face flashes me another smile.

And then they all scatter, drifting through the doors and returning a moment later.

"No one," the girl says.

The other ghosts echo her response.

I thank them and keep moving. More doors turn up nothing, until I round the corner at the end of the hall and hear a scream come from somewhere farther on.

Zeb. I swear that sounded like Zeb.

I run. The ghosts race ahead of me, whipping through doors and then back out, shaking their heads quickly, over and over. I dart past another corner, and then another, running onward through a maze-like building that never seems to end.

Panic starts to grip me. Was this a trick? Were the screams a recording or some other ploy to torment me, when really my men are anywhere but here?

At the end of the hall, the ghost girl dives through and then reappears quickly, her enormous eyes wide. "Here!" She points.

In a blast of pink lightning, my magic takes out the lock. I burst past the door.

It's a large room. Cement floor. Drains every few feet to catch the blood. Industrial lights blaze down, offering nowhere to hide. A truck loading dock is at one end, and a semi has been backed into place with its trailer door open and standing ready.

My men are here too. They're trapped in square cages, but smaller than the one I was held inside and not bolted to the ground either. Cages for transport.

For killing.

Puck is in one, snarling and throwing himself against bars that flare like electric firecrackers every time he makes contact with them. Blood-stained bandages haphazardly cover his bullet wounds like someone only half-heartedly tried to stop the bleeding. Burn marks score his pale skin from head to toe, evidence of how many times he's flung himself into the walls of the cage.

Beastly is wounded too, burns on his sides and chunks of fur missing. He stands in another cage, snarling as he turns this way and that like he's looking for an escape, but he's surrounded by traders with cattle prods in their fists. They're rolling his cage toward the truck.

Ghastly's cage is off to one side. He lies on the ground, not moving. A savage cut mars one of his legs, torn straight through his pants like someone wanted to test how well he handled being sliced and diced. His tentacles lie limp on the cage floor around him, burned in places like they were scorched by electricity.

But one tentacle is missing. The stump seeps black blood where the appendage was sliced away, coating his back in the dark liquid. Dressed in butcher's smocks, three of the traders have his severed tentacle trapped between them. It thrashes of its own accord, but still they carry it toward a glass case like a science experiment they intend to put on display.

I scream.

The dead with me race at the traders, while the ghosts hovering around the bastards pause.

There are so many dead surrounding them that it's hard to distinguish one from the other. But at my scream, pink smoke and lightning surge around me, and all those dead turn too, as if they suddenly are energized.

And then they attack.

Traders scream and try to run. They grab for weapons, but there's nothing to shoot. Nothing to slash their knives at or attack at all.

Some of them turn and rush at me.

They don't make it more than a few steps. The dead tear into them, knocking them to the ground and ripping at the traders as they scream. Others try to make a break for the door to escape the carnage, only to be driven back by the dead waiting there. I stride through the chaos quickly, heading for Ghastly and Zeb's cage, and the ghost girl and several others come with me.

"Ghastly?" I wait but he doesn't move. "Zeb? Please, answer me."

Nothing.

I lash out at the lock with my lightning. Before it even reaches the metal, the energy breaks apart, pink electricity snarling over the bars but changing nothing, like it can't get inside.

Within the cage, Ghastly doesn't stir.

Desperate, I turn to the ghosts. "Can you open it?"

The ghost girl doesn't waste a second, instantly shattering the lock on the door. I want to lunge forward to reach Ghastly right now, but I make myself pause long enough to check that the bars don't burn when I go near them.

But like the cage I was in, the defenses on this one seem to have died when the gate opened.

I rush inside. "Ghastly." I press my fingers to his neck and then gasp with relief to feel his pulse fluttering weakly beneath my fingertips.

If he was dead…

I can't tolerate the thought, not even for a millisecond. Quickly, I place a hand to the side of the stump of his severed tentacle, murmuring a spell under my breath.

The bleeding slows, but my body shakes hard with a chill as if from a fever.

I'm helping the ghosts and expending magical energy to help Ghastly too. Attempting to do both feels like trying to balance two cups of water on top of each other. I'm only going to end up losing one of them.

But I'm not on my own, either.

"Get Phineas!" I tell the ghosts, pointing. "There!"

The dead race over to him and break open the door. Shifting back quickly from Beastly into his Jekyll form, Phineas stares like the door is possessed.

"Puck too," I call.

The Hyde is out the door the instant the dead break the locks. Both Phineas and Puck spare a fast look around like they can't see any of the ghosts helping us, but they only bother to worry about that for a moment before they're rushing across the room and past the bodies of the fallen traders to my side.

"We're going to get you out of here," I assure Ghastly.

Phineas arrives at the opening of the cage.

"Heal him," I beg as I move to the side to give Phineas space to reach into the cage. "Please."

He doesn't hesitate. Cupping a hand over the severed stump on Ghastly's back, he murmurs spells under his breath.

Relief floods through me as the wounds seal, the slow ooze of blood tapering off entirely. I carefully lift the tentacle where Zeb's arm would be and loop it over my shoulders, trying to lever him upright without causing him more pain.

Ghastly groans, but after a moment, several of his tentacles move to help push him away from the ground.

But he's so ashen. A sheen of cold sweat covers his skin wherever it's not also coated in drying blood like black ink.

Phineas takes over when I emerge from the cage, hoisting Ghastly's tentacle and holding him upright.

Puck pulls me to him and nuzzles the top of my head. "Go home."

I nod and then look at the ghosts. "Thank you."

All around me, the dead smile as they fade into a light only I can see. The ghost girl is the last to leave. She waves to me like a little kid as she fades away, her voice so happy as she says, "Bye-bye."

Phineas and Puck are watching me when I look back at them. I don't know quite what to say, and now doesn't feel like the time. Not when we're still standing in the middle of a trader facility with dozens of their crew's corpses around us.

Strong shudders roll through Ghastly, and then he shifts back to Zeb's form. The Jekyll's face is haggard with pain and exhaustion, but he still manages a weak smile at me. "Hey, beautiful."

A sob catches in my throat, driven by relief and pain and fear, but I smile back while my eyes sting. "Hey."

He glances around at the destruction. "You all have a party without me?"

I choke on a laugh. "Not exactly."

"We'll explain later," Phineas says with a pointed look at me that definitely means I'm going to be the one doing the explaining. "We need to get out of here before any more of these bastards arrive."

That sobers Zeb up quickly. With Puck's arm around me and Phineas helping Zeb, we head for the door.