Flirting with Disaster

The plan came together in increments during a night drinking his favorite whiskey in his least favorite place. Sure, he’d needed time to recover from being possessed and slaughtering a colony of zombies, but since one of those had been a replica of my mother, and I’d processed that as best one might, he had no excuse for not returning my calls.

I packed my car, then followed the compass-shaped scar on my arm that unerringly points to my estranged brother. I found him in a pastry shop in some backwater town.

Not surprisingly, Nate wasn’t excited to see me

_________
Next

Inhuman Sacrifice

by Colleen Foley

“Light it, little brother. We gotta go see Kaia.”

“What? Why? I thought the shackles and screaming ‘til you have cottonmouth had to wait!”

I pulled away from the house, grinning, as thick rancid smoke and liquid screams poured from the windows.

“Because, you sick little shit, she removed the infection. I don’t think the priest knows that, but I need to be sure. If he still thinks I’m infected, he still thinks he can control me. I can flatter him, get close, offer him something he really wants, and then…”

“Wait! Nate…offer him what?

“You. You and that jar.”

______________
Next

Daily Grind

“We need a vacation.” I hacked off the grasping hand of a zombie girl.

Nate kicked her grandfather in the chest, then pulverized his head. “Ya think?”

I doused the room in kerosene. “I’m thinking Kaia, some shackles, and a thick cotton flogger…”

“Dude, no! I don’t need to hear this.” Nate tossed in a match and slammed shut the doors. “Besides, you flatter yourself if you think she’d beat you, much less for free.”

I grinned at his possessive tone. “Never said I’d be the one bound.”

Nate snorted. “Keep dreaming, Seth. First, we have a priest to kill.”

________________
Next

Circle of Death

How many times must I watch her die?

I knew the answer. As long as I had to sleep, I would see my mother torn apart, first by creatures still unknown, now by my chosen brother. It would not matter that this horrid thing was in no way my actual dam. Her alto croon and rolling laugh would haunt me just the same.

There was no point to histrionics. I got up, flicked a piece of the creature’s stolen heart off my sleeve, and turned to Nate.

“If you were a bomb, you’d be ticking.”

I nodded. “So I am.”

____________
Next

Dreadful Accord

by Colleen Foley

I moved closer, stepping into a rancid crosswind, so strong it threatened to rip the knife from my hand. I heard a woman’s laughter, sensual and cajoling, over the ripping sail-cloth sound.

I glanced at Seth, saw the flare as he anointed the jar. Gripping it tight to his chest, he looked at the thing in front of me. He thought to intervene, for just a second. Sadness, horror, and then pain crossed his face as he looked at me and nodded, just once. I expected him to look away. He didn’t.


I plunged the knife home and we all screamed.

_____________
Next

Art Imitating Life

The carpet smelled of death and roses, carnage, carnations...and dog – provenance of the creature above me. Stomach empty, I could add nothing to the mélange.

I choked back the spell to animate the beautiful vessel, fulfill my filial vassalage. False life was not the answer.

Nate lunged, knife ready to destroy the creation of a godforsaken magician. I couldn’t protest, but part of me died – same as when I first heard her torn to pieces.

Crawling, I reached the jar, anointed it. The soul flared, wrapping tight around the seal. Falling back, blinded, I swear I heard my mother laughing.

___________
Next

Even Dead Witches Are Dicks

by Colleen Foley

I’d thought I had the provenance of the whole mess figured. The vodun had made it clear that Seth had to be the one to bind that soul into the jar she wanted so badly.

I’d thought he was the one with the important job, chosen for his godforsaken magic. I’d been so wrong. Now I knew the answer .

Her instructions had been given in the hope of keeping him busy enough that he wouldn’t have to watch me kill his “mother.”

“You unmitigated bitch. Thank you.”

I drew my knife and moved forward, praying Seth would forgive me.

____________
Next

Seconds

by Colleen Foley

Seth’s garish scream made me move faster . I was forced to sidestep a rapidly deconstructing Doberman as it slid past. It growled, whipping its head around to snap. It missed only because its lower jaw came completely unhinged and bounced down the stairs ahead of it. Seconds later I saw the copulating pair.

I knew instantly, which tableau had tweaked my brother. Definitely the dog. I decided not to give him grief later on.

The room and her dress were foxglove blue. Her favorite.

Seth was on the floor between her and the altar. And he wasn’t moving.

Shit!

___________
Next

Bye and Bye

The discarded pieces of former humans, garishly strewn, suddenly made sense. It wasn’t random carnage, but a selection process. Seamless before me stood the reconstruction of the one I’d loved best, lost first. The tableau, a perfect Victorian room, the sort we’d visited from time to time, seeking wisdom from crones and their cronies, sparked memories forgotten.

She smiled, almost right, almost real.

I looked beyond her, to where the jar rested on a shelf. The room turned the blue of foxglove poisoning – she’d taught me that – as I lunged past the simulacrum of my mother.

I fell, heart breaking.

__________
Next

What Should Never Be

Even my messed up life hadn’t prepared me for the reanimated hound. It might be a slavering zombie, but in my head it was a dog, so I was reluctant to “kill” it.

No such reservations, the beast lunged. My shriek was unbecoming an experienced hunter. Luckily, its lack of coordination caused it to slide past me, coming apart and bumping down the stairs, howling.

I leapt over the copulating corpses and slammed my shoulder into an already splintered door.

The drab room was absolutely ordinary, save for the nearly complete gestation of a beautiful woman.

Her eyes hadn’t changed.

______________
Next

Back in the Ring

by Colleen Foley

I heard Seth move up the stairs as I gripped the withered framework of a chair and hauled myself out of the muck. I sat astride it with my arms on the back, gasping for clean air. The same finger that had stroked my lips now began to snake across my boot, as if still searching for me. I flung it away with a kick and started up the stairs after my brother.

No matter what happened, I wouldn’t leave him alone. He was about to face his worst nightmares come true. I had to try to help.

_____________
Next

The Hole is Greater than the Some of its Parts

The house shuddered, framework groaning from so much evil. I squelched through slicks of dismembered bodies, trying not to see the bits rolling beneath my boots, clawing for purchase in a vain attempt to re-form into coherence. Not even they wanted that, but they were too dispersed to know it.

Snaking past the half-torso of a party girl, I climbed the stairs. The priest wouldn’t roll in the muck with his handiwork. Neither would he keep his weakness close. I knew I’d found the right spot when the unhinging dog left his place astride two lovers, jaws opening in pieces.

____________
Next

This For That

by Colleen Foley

I thought about screaming, but it was over too quickly to bother. She pulled her hand back and closed it, snuffing the impossibly purple-white glow in her palm.

“I leave you a bit. You goin’ to need it.”

“Where’s the priest?” Seth demanded.

“Here. Hiding.” She pointed to my chest.

“That help you find him; end him. He disrespect me…interbreed my power with unclean things. Stain my good name. I give him something. A small jar. You bring it back here when you done with him. I give you something high caliber in return.”

Her rich, throaty chuckle faded away.

______________
Next

Burnt Offerings

We emptied cans of gas and kerosene, dousing houses threshold to patio, siphoning from cars to finish the job. Shame about the luxury SUVs. I would have fit nicely in one.

With a single match, we inverted property values of an entire neighborhood of faux mansions. It should have felt better than it did. Their lifestyle creeped me out, but they had a right to actual life. Having it taken away cavalierly grated against what remained of my morality.

“I’m going to kill that voodoo fucker.”

Nate just drove, the smell of burned meat making his lead foot even heavier.

____________
Next

Primed and Ready

by Colleen Foley

Seth stared, gape-mouthed at the spot Kaia had occupied mere seconds ago.

"What the f..."

I got to my feet, hands on my knees, and grinned at him.

"Marie Laveau. Voodoo Queen of The Big Easy. We have to go to Marie Laveau."

"Nate, Marie Laveau is dead."

"Yep, they buried her in Eighteen Dickety-Two - St. Louis Cemetery #1 – and that’s where we’re going. Kaia gave me the key. It's gonna take some vibrato, little brother, but we can do this."

"I think you mean bravado."

"Shut up."

Seth sighed. "Before we go, we need to clean this mess."

___________
Next

Just Desserts

Kaia dragged the boy out the door and dropped him in a coppice at the end of a suburban cul de sac. His hands and feet were bound with zip strips, the modern bilbo a delightful innovation.

He’d be gibbering if she hadn’t slapped tape over his mouth. She was unwilling to suffer prosaic denials of his complicity in great acts of evil. She’d seen the rancid corpses and his dead dog, raised to feed and spread plague.  She’d noted the scrofula-ridden remnants of the ladies’ book club, now dismembered, as it was the only way to stop them moving.

He offered tears, expecting her to believe him an innocent mistakenly taken by brutal thugs. Unfortunately for him, she accepted the intrinsic violence of the hunters.

“I bring you the justice of the Erinyes. For your parents, sister, hound.”

Hours later, he continued to suffer, as was meet and good.

______________

Written for the Monday Mixer. Exactly 150 words, sans title. I opted to use five prompts, because I am an overachiever. Also, I really liked the words.

ETA: And lo! it won. I am so pleased!

This is a sidebar for the Nate and Seth series. Kaia is, in fact, a force of nature.

Roll the Dice

Soaked with effluvia, I had barely enough control to nod. Nate seemed so damned proud of his accomplishment. And dismissive of the wound that had my insides bristling, tiny pinpricks catching fire. All he need do was make a single ejective move – free the knife or bury it deeper – and I’d be done. It would present a crossroads for him: save me or end the prophecy, thus saving the world from my eventual progeny. Naturally, I didn’t mention this.

“Called for help. Might heal me. Might kill me.”

“What? Who?”

Glass doors shattered, and Kaia flew in on black wings.

___________
Next

Retrieval

By Colleen Foley

Submissive, my happy ass. Kid had pissed me off with that, and somehow I’d been freed of both magic and hive. Go me. I’d stabbed Seth with bristling good cheer and then, knowing exactly where the brat was, pelted off to explain things to him.

One ejective shot to the temple knocked him out cold. I deposited him at Seth’s feet like a puppy returning a tossed ball.

I nodded at the slowly bleeding wound I’d inflicted and shrugged.

“Really sorry about that. What say we sell the little shit to a crossroad demon and go find Big Bad, eh?”

________________
Next

Turning the Tables

Nate slipped my knife free, then sheathed it in my side.

Voice low, a distortion of intimacy, “Your new skin’s untarnished. Wanted to be first to pollute you.”

He winked, then sprinted from the room, no longer bespelled. Implausibly, the priest’s snide comment had freed Nate. As proven, he’d rather stab me than appear submissive.

Lifeblood mingling with that of the dead, I recognized his genius. Untrammeled by conscience, my magic inflamed the sigils.

A man’s scream choked off. Nate dragged him down the stairs. Fading, I saw the truth. The practitioner was Hounsi, no Voudoun priest, just half-trained boy.

_________________
Next

Master and Servant

I wove a makeshift hobble on Nate’s legs, then moved to his wrists.

“I heard you two were… close, but didn’t expect the bondage thing. So, Nate’s your submissive? Interesting.” Either the big, bad, voodoo priest was a teenager, or he was using distortion to mask his voice.

Blood from the hive suffused the sigils I’d drawn. I pulled the threads that should lead back to their maker and end him.

“Funny how one kind of magic trammels another.” His voice was everywhere. “If you’d studied like your daddy wanted, you might have lived.”

Nate lunged. Grinning. Lost to me.

_____________
Next