Helen squeezed the handle of her knife. Blood whooshed in her ears. Smells of dusty paper and rodent musk darkened the already dim space.
When her moment to act came, she would seize it. That moment was not now, though. The occultists outnumbered her and Brian, and she lacked a read on how the monster and clone would react if she charged their handlers.
“I order you to forsake all other masters, both worldly and beyond, giving yourself in joy and supplication to the joining,” Joe yelled in a tantrum-screech.
“It’s no use,” one of the other robed participants said. “He won’t comply. Our best bet is to attempt to control the hex generator and leverage her magic.”
“Hold up. I found something.” Masked Man Number Three waved his open book, brought it back in front of his face, and exhaled. “Hail to the four corners and the sentinels of the watchtowers. Sister Folly, I, chaos born, humbly call upon your powers. Please use your dark magic on this devil doll to give her the power to possess bodies. Muddle her essence with that of the hex generator and bend them both to our will.”
“What’s chaos born?” Joe asked.
“Shut up, I’m working. Sister Folly, I, a supplicant, bow to you and request your assistance. Meld the devil doll with the hex generator and make her porous and receptive.”
The monster raged and flew around the room in a frenzy. The clone sprang to her feet, eyes white and arms outstretched. A zombie, she lumbered toward Helen muttering in the ancient language used in the pit ceremony.
“What are you doing?” the non-Joe man without the book shouted.
“If we can bind the hex generator’s essence to the doll’s, we can get Master’s essence to possess her. Then with any luck, Master will be well-fed and strong enough to enter the target without his consent.”
“I don’t know.” Joe cowered as the smoke fiend blew past him.
“I bind you, hex generator. May our doll’s essence infiltrate your psyche and eat your soul,” Masked Man Number Three bellowed like a wizard.
“Nah, you can eat shit instead.” Clutching a death grip on the trinkets, Helen dropped the knife and grabbed the clone by the arm.
She ran to Brian, dragging the zoned-out double behind her, and pressed her body to his.
In a loud and assured tone, she recited verbatim the incantation that landed her in the storage locker.
Air rushed into Helen’s lungs as she broke through the surface of turbulent wetness. Waves crashed into her mouth in relentless, chlorinated assaults. She slurped air, blubbering out invading liquid. More water rained from the sky in merciless sheets. Electricity coursing in her veins, she swung legs in a bottomless well, flailing and panicked. Where was she? Lost at sea, floating in stormy, open ocean?
“It’s okay.” Brian’s voice was as strong as his arm, looped around her midsection. “I’ve got you. Float.”
Hacking and spitting, she allowed herself to lean into his body. They drifted until she braced her feet on the rungs of a metal ladder. Right. She bobbed in his infinity pool. And he was here, meaning she’d rescued him from the clone. Speaking of the C word…
A cushion drifted on the water’s surface. Deck furniture lay upturned. But no clone swam with her and Brian or stood amidst visual reminders of the storm’s destruction.
Brian climbed out of the pool and hoisted Helen out behind him, her body a soaked rag doll in his arms. They sat on the concrete and hugged each other for a moment, each both a life raft and a drowning person. Rain drilled, gathering warm beneath their molded bodies.
“Quite a monumental end to the California drought.” Brian forced a chuckle and flung water from his face.
“It’s not over.” The masked men cast a spell. During her journey back to the pool with Brian and the clone, the double vanished. But Helen hadn’t sent her anywhere intentionally. Not good.
“It is for now.” He spoke with hope. “You saved me, Helen, saved my life. Thank you. I was a bloody fool not to see that it wasn’t you who approached me in the studio and led me to that locker.”
“No, the problem wasn’t foolishness. She’s adapting faster than we can keep up, and she’ll continue to learn. I need to work. I need to make sure she’s permanently banished.” Her circles and talismans were crucial, but the rain had washed them away. Shit, shit, shit. Upon feeling a lump in her balled fist, she calmed some. At least she’d recovered one of the clear crystals.
Brian stood and pulled her free hand, bringing her upright. “Where’s Tilly?”
“She’s with Jonas and his family, staying the night until I get this sorted out. Brutus is with her. I have to work. There are six circles, and something about chaos born. It’s significant. Meaningful.”
“No. Rest for the night. As of right this minute, the clone is dormant. Tilly is safe, and we’re safe together. After you get a good night’s sleep you can try some new things, but for now you’ve done enough.” He cupped her face in both hands, the look in his eyes a haven.
“It’s not enough, Brian. I can’t slow down. I can’t rest. Not until it’s over. Not until you’re saved.” Her voice broke, and tears wobbled in her vision.
The onslaught of rain continued, stinging her exposed skin as needling drops landed in a rapid blaze.
“Enough for now, love.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead, the tenderness cracking what remained of her defenses. “Good enough.”
Those last words he spoke penetrated to her core. There, they went to work detonating years of residue and demolishing hurtful buildup. Brian spoke those words with a sincerity that ruined her. A cry broke from her throat, deepening into a sob to accompany the warm streams sliding down her cold cheeks.
“I’m sorry. I’m so, so, sorry. If I could, I would go back in time to that day at Nerissa’s house and do everything differently.”
“Don’t apologize,” he whispered into the skin between her
