Page 42 of Soulbound Shadows: Part 2

There was a ‘mrrp!’ and a small green blur rocketed into the room, charging straight at Evangeline. Pure instinct had me throwing myself in front of her, but the blur simply scrabbled up me and threw itself over my shoulder at Evangeline, who cooed.

“Hi, sweet boy,” she murmured. I turned and saw she was cradling Pothos in her arms. The cat was slamming his head against her chin and purring like a brand-new engine. “I missed you, too, sweetie. Yeah, hi, sweetheart. Oh, wow, that was pretty soggy.” That last bit was in response to Pothos sneezing happily into her face.

I stifled a sigh and took my hat off, smoothing a hand over my hair. It was an old habit—one I hadn’t been able to shake. It simply felt wrong to wear a hat indoors. As I inspected the damage, I saw the cushions hadn’t been slashed with a knife as I’d first thought, but instead bore the telltale signs of claw marks and a smattering of grass-green fur. At least part of the chaos was due to Pothos’s boredom.

Evangeline, still cradling Pothos, looked around the apartment. She was keeping it together, but it was taking its toll. Her lips were pressed into a firm line, probably pale behind the disguise’s lipstick. Then she spotted something, and her face went blank, her eyes flashing with fury.

The cause of her rage seemed to be a large gray box on the coffee table. It was plastic, with a few dials and switches on it, and it looked like some sort of mass-produced piece of technology. One of the panels had been removed, and its insides were modified with strips of wire and ribbon. Runes had been painted onto the interior.

“Fucking hell.” Evangeline snarled. “Gabriel, open the window.”

I barely had time to get the window open before she snatched the thing up and threw it out onto the street below. It smashed into pieces, letting out a cloud of yellow smoke.

“What is that?” I asked, then looked down at the heap of plastic and metal on the street and corrected myself. “What was that?”

“A DIY magic sponge,” Evangeline said. Pothos was winding around her ankles while she pressed her hands against the surfaces of the apartment. She swept her palms over the walls, the window frame, and the kitchen counter. “If you know what you’re doing, you can modify a dehumidifier to suck up excess magic instead of water. They have more official-looking ones in museums with magical artifacts to keep stray magic from getting rowdy.”

“Isn’t Chanel powered by stray magic?” I thought I already knew the answer, but I was hoping I was wrong. I thought of the dead and dying plants. How much would it take to strip the magic from Chanel?”

Evangeline spared me a glance over her shoulder, eyes furious. “Yes,” she spat. “That’s how they managed to get in. They must have brought it along to neutralize her, keep her from putting up a fight. If whoever made that thing had done a better job, they could have killed her.” The familiar scent of Evangeline’s magic filled the air. “Luckily for us, they were pretty shit at it. I can fix this, but it’s a goddamn good thing we got here when we did.” She gritted her teeth, pushing magic into the building.

Pothos meowed at her feet, and Evangeline pulled one hand away from the cabinet to pat her shoulder. The cat sprang up and settled across her shoulders like a luxurious stole capable of malice. A bright vegetal smell began to mingle with the paper and jasmine scent that I knew to be Evangeline’s. Pothos was helping, I realized, as a familiar should. There was a faint rustling from one corner—a book rising and wobbling back to its place on one of the shelves.

Chanel was awake.

“It’s working,” I said.

Evangeline grinned viciously and pushed out a final burst of energy, then sagged against the counter, rubbing at her chest.

“Hey, Chanel,” she said softly, patting the linoleum countertop. A faded mug that read: MY FRIEND WENT TO THE MARITIME WITCHCRAFT MUSEUM AND ALL I GOT WAS THIS LOUSY T-SHIRT, wobbled to the sink, filled itself with water, and scooted across the countertop to butt against her hand. Evangeline let out a breath that might, under other circumstances, have been considered a laugh and drank the water.

“Thanks,” she murmured.

I wanted to go to her, but I had no idea what she needed. I also had no idea what she would allow. So, I opted to give her privacy and gathered the scattered papers.

“I wonder what they were looking for,” I said.

“No clue,” Evangeline replied. “Me? The ascendancy array? A way to track me down?” She hesitated. “Maybe they were looking for you.”

I kept moving, building my stack of papers. “We are known associates.” I didn’t relish the thought that this might have happened because of me. If it had been my fault, however obliquely, the least I could do was clean up.

“Known associates,” Evangeline echoed in amusement. “Is that what we are?”

I glanced up at her. She was smiling, the curve of her lips half-hidden by the ghastly. “Among other things,” I said, giving her a smile in return.

Now that Chanel had enough energy to repair the damage, Evangeline shifted her focus to finding the things she needed. She disappeared into the bedroom for a few minutes, returning with a half-full duffel bag and Pothos asleep on her shoulders. His green fur wasn’t completely out of place with the coat, and he looked like a bold, if somewhat out of place, design statement. Evangeline rummaged through the books that had shelved themselves and grabbed a few. Once or twice she picked one up, scanned the index, and slid it back onto the shelf. For the most part, though, it seemed she knew the contents of her books by heart.

Once Evangeline had gotten what she needed, we went back out into the streets, side-stepping the smashed magic absorber. Pothos was still curled around Evangeline’s neck. I was carrying the bag of books and clothes, mostly because I had won the race to pick it up before Evangeline could. I’d had an argument ready about the benefits of vampiric strength, but I hadn’t needed it, for which I was grateful.

We made it two and a half blocks before I realized I’d left my hat—and therefore my disguise—in Evangeline’s apartment.

“I forgot my disguise,” I said, irritated at my own sloppiness. “I can run back and get it if you think Chanel is likely to let me back in.”

“I think we should stick together,” Evangeline said, keeping an eye on the streets around us. “We can go back for it, but it’s not like?—”

Before she could tell me what it wasn’t like, a skinny vampire darted out from a side street. He was tall, wild-eyed, holding a long knife, and charging right at us.

I moved without thinking, sweeping forward and knocking his legs out from under him. From behind me came a snarl, then a roar. The vampire stumbled forward a few more steps, then fell, and Pothos pinned him down with one huge green paw on his chest. In the time I’d moved, the little plant beast had become massive and grown a leonine mane bristling with poisonous flowers.

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