Tales from Null City by Barb Taub

Author:Barb Taub [Taub, Barb]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Young Adult Urban Fantasy
Publisher: Hartwood Publishing
Published: 2014-12-10T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Six

“Claire! You will look at me.”

No, please, I need to get to Peter… But her head turned obediently to the Worm. He moved closer, and he was holding another knife to her throat with hands that shook. Peter… Her mind sobbed but her lips only shaped sounds that never emerged. It was every nightmare she’d ever had, the screams in her head moaned out in only the smallest of breaths.

The Worm heard her tiny whimper, and his mouth stretched in a grotesque parody of his earlier grin as he raised his voice in a shout. “Listen to me, Goddess. If you can hear this, you know that I’ll kill Claire. Come now or she dies.” He pressed the point of his knife against her throat. It pierced the skin, and the jolt of pain pushed the snakes back further from her brain.

He tore his eyes from her and screamed, “Bygul!”

He’s not talking to me, so not controlling me. She concentrated on blocking the snakes, forcing herself to think only of Peter. The Worm pressed his knife further against her throat, the point entering slightly, and Claire felt the same shock she saw mirrored in his eyes as her own hand holding her athame smoothly parted the skin of his throat and entered. It slid in so fast she didn’t even feel any resistance as she slashed sideways. Destroy the vocal cords and he loses his control.

She staggered back, bloody hand clutching her knife. He was gargling as he collapsed into a chair. As blood ran down his throat—not enough, damn it—he tried to talk but couldn’t. He couldn’t control her! With a sob, she pulled back her arm, whirled, and hit his jaw with every ounce of the fury boiling in her. He folded over the back of the chair.

She raced to Peter and turned him over. Blood soaked the floor beneath him, and the wound was still bleeding. She whispered his name, but his beautiful eyes didn’t open. With her own knife, she slit his T-shirt open. Think, Claire. Pressure on the wound. Don’t pull out the knife. She rolled him to his side in the recovery position, and raced to her kitchen for towels and her first aid kit. Packing towels around the wound, she taped them in place as tightly as she could.

For long moments she watched as both Peter and the Worm continued to bleed. A trickle ran down her own neck and she remembered his knife there. Mechanically, she ripped a piece off her shirt to tie around the cut. Thoughts swam through her mind like fish trying to move through molasses. I should do something about the Worm. He’s not quite dead. Tie him up. She could hear the others outside, a sullen murmur on the wind. They know he’s still alive. They’re not trying to come in because they think he’s still stronger than them. Okay…he needs to stay not-quite-dead.

She should move, do something. Don’t just sit here. But the memory of

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