Serpent Cursed (Lost Souls Series Book 2) Page 8

  Quinn hesitated. “Can I be honest?”

  “Yes.” A new tone trembled in her voice.

  “I’m not sure how I feel about it all yet. I don’t know what you are, or if there’s a way to control it. But I know I care about you.” Quinn turned his head and breathed in her scent again. It wasn’t flowery or even pleasant after several days of traveling and no showers, but it was her. That thought made his head rush.

  Becca shifted in his arms and looked into his eyes. Quinn faced her. They were a breath away from kissing when Tarkik’s footsteps sounded on the path. Quinn pulled back, swallowing. He locked his gaze with Becca’s, hoping she saw the assurance there. His feelings for her hadn’t changed. He just needed time to get used to how things were now.

  And figure out a way to save her life.

  Quinn watched the two men stomp out the fire. The sun had gone down, but twilight remained. Quinn felt his exhaustion. It must be late, even though the sun didn’t agree.

  “Things are different now, aren’t they? Whether we want them to be or not.” Becca watched Tarkik sit down beside Silla. “Your people will never approve of us.”

  “If it came to that, I’d choose you.” The lie slid off his tongue, and Quinn swallowed, regretting the words as soon as he spoke them. Just be honest next time, okay? Becca’s words from earlier came to mind, when they shared a sandwich in the van. He shook his head, clearing his throat. “Listen, I don’t know what’s going to happen—”

  “You don’t have to make any promises,” Becca said, putting her hand on his arm, then let it slide away, her heat lingering on his skin.

  It only made Quinn feel worse.

  ⇺ ⇻

  Chapter Eight

  Tyson

  “How do you know they’re goblins?” Tyson climbed off the bed, still holding the ulu knife with shimmering ribbons of colored light coming off it. The goblins screeched and scooted to the back wall, cowering and covering their eyes with spindly fingers. Their chubby bodies trembled, and they kept whimpering.

  Harper looked a bit pale, but it could have been the light coming off the knife. “Can you put that thing somewhere else? It’s blinding.”

  Tyson put it behind him. As soon as the light dimmed, the goblins surged forward with angry clicking noises.

  “Don’t put it away!” Harper screamed.

  Tyson whipped the knife around, slicing easily into the fabric of the hide-a-bed couch fabric next to him. The goblins scampered back, chittering and groaning, hiding their faces in the corner.

  “I take it they don’t like light.”

  “Light, fire, salt, and apparently smooth peanut butter and cold beverages.”

  Tyson barked a laugh at Harper’s dry humor. His hand felt sweaty on the handle of the knife, so he switched hands and wiped off his right hand. The goblin’s eyes followed the knife.

  Harper backed away from the goblins under the bed and stumbled through the dark RV. Did she expect Tyson to just hold the goblins here while she…?

  The lights flickered on, and the goblins hissed, crowding closer under the shadow of the bed.

  “Do you really think this is Wendy and Fred? Or did these guys attack them outside first?” Tyson asked, gesturing with the knife. Harper’s wings rustled as she knelt back down next to him, pinned tightly against her back. She pointed at the goblin on the left.

  “That one has hair. I’d wager it’s Wendy.”

  Tyson squinted. When the goblin turned its ugly, squat face toward him, the scraggly strands of filthy brown hair that sprouted from the top of its head like a sad, droopy plant flopped over its eyes.

  “I don’t know, Harper. Are goblins shapeshifters? I thought they stayed in one form, and lived in caves.”

  “Caves, sure, but also laundromats, gas stations, alleyways, greasy cafes, bars. If it’s a grimy, lowly place that should probably be shut down, you’ll find goblins nearby. They’re usually more of a pack, so I’m surprised to find these two wandering around by themselves.” She eyed the two goblins, who had fallen still.

  “You know a lot about goblins.”

  “There was a pack in one of the neighborhoods I lived in once,” Harper said. She bit her lip and chewed it a minute, her eyes drifting as if she remembered something. Judging by the look on her face, it wasn’t pleasant.

  “If you need to talk about it—”

  The words snapped Harper out of her reverie, and she scowled at him. “I don’t need therapy, Tyson. We need to decide what we’re doing with these things and figure out where we’re going. Because no offense, but ‘head north’ isn’t doing it for me right now.” She pressed off the floor and stood. She kept her wings out despite the cramped space, folded against her back like a soft shell.

  Tyson looked back at the goblins. He looked at his knife. The colors were duller in the bright light of the RV, but still drifted off the blade in tiny multi-hued streams. He stared at the goblins again. “Harper, they can understand us, right?”

  “Mhm,” Harper responded. Tyson heard rustling sounds as she rummaged through cupboards.

  “Any idea what they intended to do to us?”

  “They sit on your chest and paralyze you while they slowly drain your soul.” Harper’s manner-of-fact voice was punctuated by the slamming of two cupboard doors. She walked over and dropped something next to him. “Usually takes a month or so to finish it, longer with just the two of them. I wouldn’t be surprised if this is their gig. How they survive. They drive up and down the state, taking in hitchhikers. It’s pretty smart for goblins.”

  Tyson eyed the objects next to her. Plastic zip ties. “Hope those aren’t for me.”

  Harper’s scowl showed she didn’t appreciate the joke. She jutted her chin at the goblins. “I figure we have two choices. Kick them out and steal the RV, or tie them up and bring them with us. Either way, we have a vehicle. One of us will have to stay awake, keep watch.”

  “Safer for us to leave them on the side of the road.” Tyson glanced back under the bed. The goblins were eerily quiet, no more chittering, no more shrieks or hisses. Just huddled under the bed like bedraggled alley cats. “Do you know how to drive an RV?”

  “Never have before. How hard can it be?”

  Something in her tone made Tyson raise an eyebrow at her. “Did you ever learn to drive?”

  “Officially?”

  Tyson rolled his eyes. “Any chance we could convince them to return to human form?”

  “In goblin form they can’t come into the light. Their skin is extremely sensitive. Better to keep them under the bed.”

  The goblins looked like they were trembling. The larger, rounder goblin with no hair clutched at the other goblin’s hand. They managed to look pitiful.

  “They know the area,” Tyson offered. “They could be useful.” His back ached. He sat up and stretched it. He put the knife behind his back without thinking, but the goblins didn’t move. Huh. Really must be scared of light. Which was good since the knife had stopped letting off streams of light. It looked like it had before with the carved bone handle and gleaming blade. He had nowhere to put it, so he held it loosely in one hand, feeling awkward.

  Harper leaned against the countertop slightly behind where Tyson sat on the floor. “Where are we even going? Do you know? Have you had any more visions?”

  Tyson shook his head.

  “Maybe we should find someone who knows more about this stuff. A seer, or a soothsayer or something. They might know about your powers, and we could get a more clear direction.”

  “I know of one.” A muffled voice came from beneath the bed. Tyson jerked his head down to look into the shadows, and saw Fred in human form, smashed in the narrow space between the murphy bed and the floor.

  Tyson blinked. Harper’s wings rattled against her back in a warning manner, and she crouched low in a defensive position. “If you’re smart, you’ll stay under there,” she growled.

  “Do you want
a soothsayer or not? Let me and my wife return to human form. We’ll drive the RV, take you where you want to go. This one’s real, I promise.”

  Tyson considered the man lying under the bed. “It sounds pretty reasonable, Harper. As long as at least one of us stays awake, right?”

  Harper’s hair brushed her cheeks as she shook her head. “No way. Two of them could overpower us.” She looked at Fred, whose cheeks were flushed. He grimaced, apparently feeling the tight squeeze. “You can come out, but the other one stays. We’ll keep the lights on in here, and no funny business or my friend takes that knife to your wife.” Harper’s lip curled at the word, as if she couldn’t imagine goblins honoring a marriage contract. Tyson cringed at the threat. Harper seemed to sway. She looked exhausted. The grief of Fletcher’s death, followed quickly by use of strong magic and being on the run were taking their toll.

  “You sleep first,” Tyson said, standing up and moving out of the way as Fred inched his way out from beneath the bed.

  “Like hell. You’ll sympathize with him and get us in deep shit.”

  “I won’t. Look, I’ll keep the knife out the entire time. I won’t talk to him unless I have to. But you have to sleep.”

  “Are you saying I can’t handle staying awake?” Her eyes narrowed.

  Tyson put his hands up. “I’m saying that you’re tired. Let me take the first shift. I’ll wake you in a few hours.”

  “Two. Exactly two,” Harper snarled.

  Fred stood up, brushing off his rumpled clothes. A wave of the sickly-sweet goblin stench rolled off of him. “Ah, that’s better!” He grinned, his too-straight, too white teeth gleaming in the fluorescent lighting.

  Tyson gestured toward the front of the RV. “If you have a map, I want to see where you’re taking us.”

  Fred shuffled down the narrow corridor of the RV. Harper grabbed the goblin-man’s arm, and despite her short stature, managed to get right up in his face.

  “If you try anything that could get me or my friend here killed, anything at all, I will fly you straight up as high as I can and…” She made a fist and released it in a dropping motion.

  Fred nodded frantically and Harper released him. She glared at his back as he headed for the driver’s seat, then glanced at Tyson.

  “What? You look like you just saw me kick a puppy.”

  Tyson swallowed what he wanted to say. Despite what Wendy and Fred had tried to do, they were sentient creatures with thoughts and feelings, and maybe they could work together toward a common goal. Instead, he shrugged. “What were the zip ties for?”

  Harper examined her fingernails. “Just in case.” She leaned down and picked them up off the floor. Wendy the goblin hissed when she came into view, and Harper bared her teeth back.

  Tyson watched the exchange. It was far from an ideal situation, but so far no one had died. If the goblins cooperated, Harper and Tyson could get what they needed and be on their way, no harm done.

  Behind him, Harper snatched pillows and the blanket off the bed and laid them out on the floor in the kitchen area. Tyson hurried past her ‘nest’ as she punched a pillow, and approached the front of the RV, where Fred muttered at the steering wheel.

  “Can you get her moving again?” Tyson asked, taking the passenger seat.

  Fred’s forehead creases smoothed. He grinned. “She wasn’t ever broken. I took her out of gear and slid her to the shoulder so you’d think she was a goner.”

  “Very tricky,” Tyson said, watching Fred’s grin widen. He wasn’t sure he should be encouraging nefarious acts, but getting Fred in a good mood would go a long way. Tyson slapped his thighs. “So, where to?”

  “The soothsayer we know, she lives on the edge of this wood, and about twenty miles east. An hour’s drive and we’re there. I’ll warn you though, she ain’t cheap.” He chuckled so deep in his throat it was almost like a gag.

  “What does she charge?”

  Fred looked at him, mouth quirking upward to one side. “Not money.”

  Tyson nearly swore. He should have expected it. Magical beings rarely dealt on human terms. He’d had a semester of classes on this while getting his paranormal psychology degree. Paranormals dealt in blood and bone and hair and the things that were most important to you. Fairytales spoke often of the deals fairies and witches made that went south for the heroes. They were textbook examples, now, of how not to deal with otherworldly beings. Most of those types of deals were illegal, but that didn’t stop some from practicing.

  “Is she licensed?” The words tumbled out of Tyson’s mouth before he could stop them.

  “Why, are you?” Fred cackled, beating the steering wheel with a fist.

  “Never mind,” Tyson mumbled. “Where’s the map?”

  Fred pointed to his head, tapping against his skull. “In here.”

  “You said you had one I could see!”

  Fred gestured at the wide RV window and the road beyond. “You can see where we’re headed clear enough.”

  Tyson shifted uneasily in his seat. From the back of the RV came a hissing sound, and Harper hissed right back. When Tyson glanced over his shoulder, he saw Harper crouched in her nest, facing off with Wendy the goblin. Harper turned around and curled back up in her makeshift bed on the floor, throwing an arm over her face to combat the bright overhead light that kept the goblin trapped beneath her.

  “You aren’t married,” Fred stated.

  Tyson jerked his head back around. “How could you tell?”

  “There’s a certain glow missing. But you like her.”

  “What?”

  A deep-throated chuckle came from Fred again. He shook his head and rubbed at his greying beard. “You got it bad, kid. You think goblins don’t know love? We live on love. We drain its essence from our victim’s souls every night as they fall asleep. We feast on it. And we mate for life, unlike most humans.” He scowled.

  Tyson blinked. Fascinating.

  Fred sighed and shook his head. “Anyway. It’s there.” He jabbed a finger into Tyson’s chest, taking his eyes off the road for a moment to look at Tyson. “A delicious, barely acknowledged spark.”

  Tyson’s hand went to his chest automatically, as if he could feel the warmth of a literal candle flame through his skin. He turned around in his chair to glance back at Harper again. She’d fallen asleep, mouth open as she breathed deeply, chest rising and falling. She looked small without her wings, but Tyson would never forget how it looked to see her soar through the sky. She had grace and control in the sky.

  And as he looked, he caught his heart skipping in its rhythm, accelerating until heat flushed his cheeks.

  Fred made a smacking sound and Tyson turned and caught him licking his lips. He focused his eyes forward and tried not to think about Harper, just in case the goblin driving the crazy bus got it in his mind to pull over and drain the love out of Tyson completely.

  Despite his resolve to stay on guard, Tyson caught himself drifting off. He adjusted his grip on the ulu knife, then placed it in his lap, one hand on top to keep it from being stolen. His head nodded onto his chest. His fingers touched the naked blade of the knife, thrusting him into a vision.

  He stood over the steaming entrails of a dead polar bear, hand gripping the ulu knife dripping with blood. Tyson’s breath fogged as exhaled and knelt down, examining the entrails. It wasn’t him, but it was him. He’d never slain a polar bear, but part of him was familiar with what to do. He thanked the bear and sliced chunks of meat away. Several other men joined in, talking in a language Tyson didn’t understand, only he did here.

  “What message does the bear have for us?”

  Tyson glanced down at the pile of steaming entrails. The bloody lines made pictures appear in his mind that somehow made sense. Go north. Go north and find the snake. Go north. Go north and meet the gods.

  The men nodded soberly when Tyson told them the message. They packed the meat, the bones, and the skin on the sled and drov
e it back toward their families, a journey of days.

  A sense of strength flew through the arctic air with Tyson.

  I am purpose. I am protection. I am provider.

  A fierce, firm tapping on Tyson’s shoulder woke him. He sucked in the bit of drool at the edge of his mouth and looked up into Harper’s cross face. Tyson didn’t attempt to apologize, or even greet her. Instead, he stood and slid past her, walking through the RV to the makeshift bed. Wendy made agitated sounds from beneath the fold-out murphy bed across from him, but she didn’t make an appearance. Tyson curled up in the blankets still warm from Harper’s body. His bones felt chilled, as if they had experienced more than just a dream through the frozen tundra.

  Go north. Go north and find the snake. Go north. Go north and meet the gods.

  He meant to puzzle over the phrase, to work at it and dissect every part until he understood what implications it held for his own journey. Because he knew it held some importance, if he could stay awake long enough to figure it out…

  “You snore.” A sharp elbow dug into Tyson’s side. He groaned and rolled over. Harper poked him again. “Come on, we’re here.”

  Tyson opened one eye, looking into Harper’s face. He peeled the other open and sat up, rubbing both. A tiny growl came from under the bed, and without looking, Harper swung one leg forward and struck the goblin beneath, eliciting a squeal.

  “You don’t have to be so mean,” Tyson said.

  “Says the man who nearly had all of the feeling sucked out of his soul,” Harper retorted.

  “Fred mentioned that. It’s kind of neat, in a way. Did you know they mate for life?”

  “Are you flirting with me?” A smile flickered across her face, then turned into a grimace. He’d said something to irritate her. Or maybe she just really hated goblins.

  Tyson scrambled off the bed and brushed his clothes. “We’re at the soothsayer’s? What does it look like?”

  Harper leaned across the bed and pulled open one of the brown and orange gingham curtains. “See for yourself.”

  Tyson had expected a broken down cottage in the woods. Or a tent at a carnival. Anything other than the busy auto shop outside the window. “Here?” He frowned.