The Hearts We Sold(41)

They walked and they walked, until the night closed in around them. Dee could barely see the outline of the Daemon in the pale light of the half-moon. A hand touched her arm and she jumped, only to see James next to her. “Sorry,” he whispered. “Just making sure you’re still there.”

And then, the Daemon went still and the teenagers stumbled to a halt behind him. Glimmers of light shone through cracks in the air, catching on motes of dust, making it look as though reality had cracked open and bled starlight.

A woman stood beside the void, stopped so still that Dee did not notice her at first. She was slim, with a shaven head and dark skin. Like the void, like the Daemon, she was ethereally lovely.

A demon, then.

“Heart-Monger,” the woman said. “What are you doing here?”

The Daemon answered smoothly, “Taking the pets out for a walk.”

“Do not trifle with me.” The female demon’s voice sharpened. “They are not needed.”

The Daemon sneered. “Your tools have failed.”

“You can’t know that.”

“Then why is the door still half-open?” he replied. He nodded at the void. “Let me use mine.”

“Hey.” This time it was Cora who spoke. Dee felt a thrill of fear for her, and she wished the other girl had the sense to remain silent. No good ever came of interrupting feuding adults—she’d learned that young. “We are not his,” said Cora. “We don’t belong to anyone.”

The female demon gave Cora a flat look. “He holds your memories, your very core, hostage, and you say you are not his?”

James drew in a breath. His fingers wrapped around Dee’s wrist, as if he needed something to anchor himself—or perhaps he thought she might say something.

“Fine, then,” said the female demon. “Send your hollow creatures inside. See how they fare against a burrower.”

The Daemon inclined his head, as if in mocking thanks. Then he looked back at the four teenagers behind him. The glimmer of the void’s light reflected in his eyes. “Come along,” he said quietly.

Like they truly were his. Animals to be collared and ordered about. For a moment, they all balked. But Dee realized the futility of it. She was the first heartless to step forward. James hastened after her.

Cora stepped closer to the void, wobbling on the unsteady ground. In her heels, she was nearly as tall as Cal. She glanced about the small group. “Let’s get this done. Cal, you’re the doorman. Dee, you stay out here—”

“No.” The word broke free of her.

James and Cora looked at her.

“I—I can’t stay out here,” said Dee. She would rather face whatever lay inside that void, terrible memories and all, than remain out there.

“We could use the backup,” said James gently.

Cora looked as though she wanted to protest, but then she shook her head. “All right. James and I will take the duffel bag. Dee, stay close and keep an eye out. If that demon already sent a team in, we might run into them. If we can help them, we will.”

Dee could smell the void—the scent of sand and burning metal joined that of dried grass and earth. The edges between this world and the void were blurring, and she thought she could see past the blur and the ripples, into the void itself.

Cal was the first to get into position; he stepped into the void, turned so that he was half in, half out. Then he held up his one visible hand and motioned for the others to go through.

“Come on,” said Cora. She had one strap of the duffel bag and James took the other.

Dee shook her arms, as if readying for a run, and stepped forward. If she’d had a heart, she thought her pulse would have been ripping through her. As it was, the fear was bad enough. It tasted bitter on her tongue and she felt her body draw in on itself, readying for fight or flight.

“Listen,” Cal said, seeing her face. “I’ve only had to go in there a few times, but—try to center yourself. Don’t lose yourself to the memories. The void will yank out anything close to the surface. Try to stay calm.”

She nodded at him. He was trying to help; it didn’t matter if the words slipped through her like water through cupped fingers.

Dee watched as Cora and James strode through the mouth of the void first.

The world rippled, and they vanished into nothing.





TWENTY-ONE


I t was like last time—she felt the sweeping gusts of the wind, the grit of sand in her hair, the raw newness of the world and—

She is fourteen, home for Christmas break from her first semester at Brannigan. Her father is screaming, about how shit their life is, how he was cheated, and she goes outside and sits in the yard, lets the freezing rain lash at her face and hands, sits beneath the oak tree and waits for her parents to fall asleep—

Dee shook. Frantic little trembles ran through her. Her hands were clenched so hard that her nails had broken skin. Blood stained her left hand.

She is five and she cannot understand why her mother won’t stop crying—

This must be why the demon took their hearts. Because it was the only way a human might survive this—by hollowing themselves out.

“I chose this,” she said, and the wind whipped the words from her mouth.

She forced herself to look up, to wrench herself away from the memories.