Page 6 of All Hallows Trick

He’s nothing, a shrew to your mighty lioness. Snap his fragile bones and snuff out the poisoned light he calls a soul.

Run. Get up and run and don’t stop running until this cursed building is far behind you. Move, lioness!

For a moment I stared into space as memories collided in my bruised mind, then a sudden flurry of activity startled me out of my frozen state. A silver man with a shock of fuzzy white hair had arrived, with a heavy-looking black bag in his hand, a stern-cut blue coat draped over him, and a scowling face I looked straight through. He was utterly transparent, not quite walking but floating, and for some reason that made me colder with fear than anything Madness had done.

“Careful,” Madness warned, his voice glacial and deep. “You’re scaring my lioness.Smile.”

It said a lot about what kind of man Madness was, and how much fear he inspired, that the ghost doctor’s lined face immediately stretched into a smile as he looked around the room. I shook myself out of my fear and rushed to Tor, Death and I laying him on a velvet sofa so deep red it was almost black.

“What happened to him?” the doctor asked in a crisp voice, keeping a respectful distance, still smiling. I shot Madness a look. He widened his eyes innocently.

“He was hurt by…” My voice dried up.By a monster,I was going to say. My face burned, ears prickling, the sensation moving down my neck. A monster like me.

“I can tell you more,” Virgil offered, stepping forward, his hand falling on my shoulder before I could burst into tears. I ignored the lump in my throat and remained there, staring at Tor, trailing my eyes over his beautiful face, both soft and stern even in sleep, his brow knotted, his mouth pursed. Was he in pain? He had to be; there was so much blood soaking through his suit pants and starched shirt.

I choked back tears, struggling to believe that Byron’s memorial had been only hours ago. It was surreal that we were all in our finery, mine ripped and dirty, my legs covered in muck.It was a sign of how bad the night was when I didn’t know if the dirt came from Phil dragging me through the forest or because I—because of when I changed into.

“He was harmed by a hybrid animal that was engineered especially to hurt death gods,” Virgil explained, making my head snap up, watery eyes locking on him. I’d been engineered to hurt my death gods? My lungs compressed, forcing out the last scrap of air. “There’s a serum, don’t ask me to explain what it is because I don’t know. But it can change an ordinary person into a wild animal. A predator. Each one is different, I don’t know what influences our forms, but we come with claws and teeth and venom, and that venom is dangerous to the gods.” He glanced across me to Death. “I don’t know how long it’ll make you weak. I don’t know if it can be cured.”

“It can,” I said in a voice of raw darkness.

I looked from Virgil to the doctor, my heart beating so hard I felt each crash against my ribs. Heat and fury roared through my head, quieting everything else. My hands shook; I curled them into fists.

“Itcanbe cured,” I said, looking at the doctor until he glanced away, “because I refuse to lose him. And if you don’t heal him, you’ll wish you were truly dead. You’ll wish there wasn’t a single speck of you left in this domain, because I don’t know how to torture a spirit, but if you don’t heal my men,I will find out.”

“Cat,” Misery breathed, brushing my back with a firm hand, his scent surrounding my senses with calming violets and snow.

I should have regretted the threat, but there was too much howling noise inside me to regret anything. And the threat got the doctor rushing to Tor, opening his bag to search through his instruments, so I didn’t apologise.

“It’s because it’s so soon after your change, Cat,” Virgil said sombrely. “Your emotions will be in flux for a while.”

“How long is a while?” Death asked, his voice even in a way I knew was forced.

Virgil didn’t answer. I couldn’t worry about that right now. For the moment, my panic at what I’d become got swept firmly behind a wall of protective rage, and I was happy to leave it there.

“Lioness,” Madness said, appearing on my left so suddenly that I jumped. “There’s no emotional wound a cup of tea can’t miraculously heal. Here, it’ll help.”

“I don’t want tea,” I muttered, returning my attention to Tor as the doctor reached for Tor’s trousers. A noise came from me that I had no way of making, low and guttural and inhuman. It cut off instantly when I choked on a gasp, my fear rushing back to the surface, icy and cold.

“Tough titties,” Madness argued, gentle as he grabbed my numb hands and wrapped them around a garish mug that said MADDE’S NUMBER ONE GIRL in green against the hot pink background. “Drink.”

“What’s in it?” Death demanded, his hand catching mine, halting me from drinking.

“Chamomile, passion flower, peppermint, lemon, and a special ingredient.”

Death never looked away from Madness. I kept my eyes on Tor as the doctor very timidly stripped off his trousers to get a good look at the wound. My eyes watered, stabbing with tears when I saw the vicious gouge in the back of his thigh. Worse, so much worse than Miz’s. Darkness oozed from it like tar.

“What’s the special ingredient?” I barely even knew what Death was talking about. I couldn’t take my eyes away from Tor’s wound.

Firm hands prised Death’s fingers off of mine. “Love. Now let her drink.”

I didn’t protest as the mug was lifted to my lips. He could drug me; I didn’t care right now. I was a monster, exactly like the creature that had ripped Tor’s thigh open, carved a slash through Miz’s arm and—

I swallowed and looked at Death. “Where are you hurt?”

“I’m fine, little one,” he replied, and I could have sunk into the warmth of his voice, could have let it soothe me, but he was sallow and sweat dotted his face and Iknewhim. He was hurt but pretending everything was okay so he could take care of us.

“Where?” I insisted, pushing through my panic and numb horror to meet his eyes. “Tell me.”

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