Page 53 of Changeling
Faust was standing beside the chair now—a chair onwheelsbeside a roller desk in the corner. Nathan fired his gun, hitting one of the wheels of the chair and moving it just enough to hit the back of Faust’s knees and trip him, also successfully re-aiming the rifle to shoot into the ceiling instead of at Nathan or Shiarra.
Nathan moved in immediately, but he had been right about Faust being fast, because the guy was steady again by the time Nathan reached him. Faust tried to reposition his gun, but Nathan grabbed the barrel with his free hand to keep it pointing up and tried to jerk it away. The barrel was hot from having just fired, making Nathan grit his teeth.
While Nathan tried to reposition his own gun onto Faust, Faust took one hand away from the rifle to grab at that too. Evenly matched, Nathan head-butted the blond in the forehead and ripped the rifle free. Faust recovered quickly, however, and charged Nathan, causing him to back-peddle away from the desk and for both guns to slip from their fingers.
Using Faust’s own momentum against him, Nathan spun them around and threw Faust towards the back of the couch where he struck hard and all but crumbled straight to the floor. Part of Nathan wanted to go for one of the guns again but that would put his back to Faust. Before Nathan could think of something else, Faust was already coming at him again.
Nathan hunkered low and swerved to avoid the first of Faust’s blows. He came up with an uppercut of his own right into Faust’s stomach, winding the other man, but even with that, Faust managed to drag Nathan down with him by hanging onto Nathan’s jacket and going limp. They fell to the floor together and, with wild struggles, Faust finally managed to get Nathan into a very experienced and effective hold.
“Nathan!” Shiarra called from what seemed like so far away within the runic trap. Walter still stood beside her, looking just as helpless.
“You have…what? Less than thirty years life experience? And you think you can beat almosttwo-hundred?” Faust sneered.
He had an arm hooking both of Nathan’s arms behind him, which made Nathan’s eyes water with the pressure on hisinjured shoulder. All of Faust’s weight was centered on a leg that was thrown over Nathan to keep him pinned to the floor.
“When you’ve seen what I’ve seen, touched magic and fae as much as I have, you start seeing everything differently,” Faust said. “Like being able to recognize a succubus and fool her senses. Or weave tapestries of memory just to steal a few meager years. The Veil is coming to an end,boy, and only an immortal will be able to keep up with the dark fae once they retake this world. They already have everything in motion. The chosen changeling has already been tapped. It is only a matter of time.”
Nathan felt a chill run through his body at the mention of the ‘chosen changeling’. His sore shoulder was screaming in pain, and he knew he was being self-conscious of the wounds on his chest, which was slowing him down.
“Ah, butyou…I knew there was something about you,” Faust continued. “The house wouldn’t have taken you even if you had chosen the other door like your friends. Because the thing is…” Faust’s voice fell to a whisper beside Nathan’s ear, “…you can’t steal life from the damned.”
Nathan’s eyes went wide with fury, so angry that Faustknew, that he could tell as if‘this life belongs to somebody else’was written across Nathan’s forehead. He could see Shiarra from his position too, and he knew she had heard Faust. Her face was filled with the most awful confusion. Nathan didn’t want her to understand. He didn’t want pity from her, too. He was not something topity.
Nathan struggled as hard as he could, and when he was sure Faust was confident in his ability to keep him pinned, Nathan went suddenly limp—just like Faust had done to him. This unbalanced and surprised Faust enough for Nathan to slip just one arm free. That was more than he needed.
Reaching back, Nathan grabbed a handful of Faust’s hair and pulled as hard as he could, rolling forward at the same time sothat Faust flipped over onto his back in front of Nathan. Quickly, Nathan straddled Faust to hold him down, using one of his own effective pinning moves.
“Guess that makes me more Faust than you,” Nathan said dangerously. “You didn’t sell your soul to the Devil. You didn’t have to. You’re just like those damn dark sidhe bastards.”
Faust surprised Nathan by responding with a laugh. “The thing about Faust,kid, is that even though he makes a pact with the Devil in that story, he still receives the gift of everlasting life.” With a broad grin, Faust slammed his body upwards, managing to get one limb free just as Nathan had, and sending further pain shooting through Nathan’s body at the contact to his chest.
Before Nathan knew it, they were struggling again, but Nathan was sick of this. He was done. Some crazy youth-stealing geezer was not about to one-up him. Nathan got in a good kick to Faust’s stomach, scrambled to his feet, hauled Faust up with him, and rushed for the nearest wall, slamming Faust back hard. They were both breathing heavily now, but Nathan could tell that Faust was much more dazed than he was.
“For the record…” Nathan gasped, “Faust gets…redemption…you limp-dick. Not the same thing.” Nathan held Faust with one hand while the other reached into his jacket for where he’d stashed his ankle blade after opening the window.
Faust immediately tried to struggle again, one of his hands grabbing Nathan’s wrist to prevent the knife from coming at him.
“You know…with the right weapon…you can kill just about anything if you stab it in the heart,” Nathan said in a low voice, fighting against Faust’s hold on his wrist as he brought the knife closer and closer to Faust’s chest, “even a man.”
Nathan wasn’t entirely certain how he found the strength, but one final surge forward was all it took, as if his arm had been aided by some unseen force, and cool metal slid cleanly intoFaust’s body. He stared at Nathan wide-eyed, but he would get no sympathy in the replying look. Nathan may not take joy in killing, but there were some people you just couldn’t feel sorry for.
Faust slid slowly to the floor when Nathan pulled the knife free again and stepped back. He turned to find Walter standing just behind him, looking stunned. Nathan merely shrugged, hoping his Spirit Guide didn’t think any less of him. But Walter smiled, shaking his head as if to dismiss Nathan’s unspoken fears, almost as if his shock was from something else entirely.
When Nathan turned back to the wall, the actual moment of Faust’s death was made quite clear as his body turned ashen, aging years within moments until there was bone, and then nothing but dust that settled on the floor.
“How veryPortrait of Dorian Gray,” came Shiarra's voice from behind Nathan.
Nathan turned back with a start, but managed a half grin. He had almost forgotten she was there. “Well…I was gonna say, how veryIndiana Jones and the Last Crusade, but whatever floats your boat.” Nathan wiped his knife clean on his jeans, retrieved his lost gun, and then walked over to the runic trap. He sliced through the circle with the blade, flicking the paint until the seal was broken.
“Thank you,” Shiarra said simply. Nathan didn’t miss how her voice was softer than usual.
“I’ll…get things set here so we can burn the place. Better if there’s nothing left. You call Sasha and see if killing Faust did the trick.”
“No,” Shiarra said, touching Nathan’s arm with a firm hold. “You call. I’ll take care of this.” Her tone allowed for no objection, and Nathan had the silliest urge to hug her.
She could say anything right now; ask him about what Faust meant—even though he had a feeling she’d already figured it out—say something about how cold he had been while killing Faust—though he was pretty sure she didn’t mind one bit—or who knows what else. But she just took the last of his burdens and told him to call home.
Because wherever Jim and Sasha were would always be home.
