FIC: Some Practical Magick, Part Four
Title: Some Practical Magick, Part Four
Pairings: Chris Pine/Zachary Quinto, Joe Quinto/Karl Urban, Eric Bana/Zachary Quinto
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: A brief mention of animal abuse, domestic violence and senseless brutality, murder and mayhem, language, sex of dubious consent and with consent, blood-letting, four not-Pinto character deaths, and religious and occult subjects.
Parts: One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Author Notes
Zach was up at seven, going to the garden to cull the last of the autumn herbs and flowers. Someone had to do it-and maybe after today he wouldn’t be around to continue the tradition.
Not that Zach thought he’d be led away in handcuffs, but Chris kept coming around for a reason. Maybe that reason was only building a case against him, and he shouldn’t be so calm with the athame pruning lovage and angelica in their wilting splendor.
He put them in separate canisters, not quite aware that he was being watched.
“Which ones are you gathering?”
Zach didn’t turn his head at Chris’ voice, instead opening another container for sunflowers. “Well, I just did angelica and lovage. Gathering seeds now for next year.”
He finished doing so in silence, the idea of being observed not entirely disconcerting. His children weeded that discomfort out of him-Zoe being the worst in her younger years, quiet and practically unblinking. But now she was set to be an excellent herbalist herself, so he supposed it had paid off. Maybe she would tend the garden when he was gone.
Zach gathered the containers, standing to turn and see Chris in a white t-shirt and jeans. Not dressed in the way Zach expected, and even more so, not with the soft look in his eyes turned towards him, so different from their last meeting.
“Want help carrying those?”
Zach wordlessly nodded, handing over the sunflower seeds.
They walked to the spell parlor, passing the empty kitchen, where Zach finally noticed the clock-8:30.
“Sorry. I got lost in time out there, I guess.”
Chris waved a hand. “No worries. Zoe told me where you were.”
Zach nodded. “Are her and Joey still watching cartoons?”
“Yep-and making our pancakes, I guess?” Chris placed the canister down gently. “Although I think they were eating the batter more than mixing-or perhaps that was just the homemade syrup. Anton said it was made of crushed berries and herbs.”
Zach placed his canisters on the table, mildly impressed that Chris remembered their names. “He’s kind of impossible.”
“They’re great, Zach. Zoe was very gracious.”
Of course Zoe was-Zach never worried a moment about her. “I think she’s going to be a politician or diplomat someday.”
He bent over for a crate of jars, pulling them up to set on the table. They were all organized and labeled, filled with tiny seeds.
“Yeah,” Chris finally said. “Although I would never wish politics on her.”
Zach cracked a smile. “You and me both.”
Chris peered curiously at the jars. “You guys are really organized.”
Zach shrugged. “Have to be. We’ve been growing here for generations-it kind of happened over time, I’m guessing.”
Chris looked along the alphabet, his eyes squinting to read the labels. “I’m not seeing some of the things you had at the shop.”
“Climate can prevent that.” Zach sealed the jar. “The northeast isn’t entirely forgiving. We keep thinking of building a greenhouse. The shop is doing okay, but it would save expense down the line to grow some stuff I usually import.”
“Like belladonna.”
Zach looked up sharply, seeing that Chris was still looking at the jars.
“Belladonna is illegal in some states.” Zach pulled the crate abruptly towards him, and lowered it underneath the cabinets. “I don’t sell it at the shop.”
Zach wouldn’t trust anyone with it, certainly. Anyone wanting it that badly could get it through other means. Thankfully possessing it wasn’t illegal, but the FDA didn’t endorse its use.
“So how would you get it?” Chris asked, looking at a line of small drawers and cabinets, some with clear labels.
Zach’s mind raced with all the possibilities, each one leading to the only one possible.
“Internet or mail-order.” Zach put away his supplies, slipping the athame in a drawer. “But there are many substitutions, so most people just don’t use it anymore.” Except old-schoolers like his mother, of course.
Chris nodded absently. “You have an impressive herbal collection here.”
“You’re in our laboratory, of sorts.”
Chris faced him, his arms braced against the table as he leaned in, giving Zach a pinning stare. Under any other circumstances, Zach could confess to himself how appealing the image was-how appealing Chris was. Close enough to meet across the table if Zach wanted to, but would not.
Chris said softly, “Do you know where Karl Urban is?”
Zach took a deep breath. “No.” Heaven or hell, one couldn’t guarantee these things.
Chris smiled, a small smile-the one of some intimate knowledge that Zach would probably like to have.
“I don’t believe that.”
Zach braced against the table himself, daring himself to lean in. “If you know where he is, then why are you here?”
“Because I’m pretty sure you, or your brother, did something to Mr. Urban.”
Zach felt something inside him break-the cage for a desperate animal perhaps, now wandering the edges of his mind for escape.
“We did nothing but drive ourselves home,” Zach said lowly. “If you can somehow disprove that, then I’d really like to know.”
Chris didn’t back down from his stare, but his mouth formed a wan expression. “The problem is-I believe you.”
Zach blinked, unsure of what that meant.
“But I can’t exactly prove that.” Chris sighed, the breath traveling the distance closing between them. “I’ll be honest, Zach-you have a case building against you, and it’s really convincing.”
Zach watched as Chris’ gaze traveled his face, seeming to settle on his lips. “But I would never cart you away in front of your children. Just… so you know.”
Zach considered that a moment, gazing back with the same sort intensity that Chris laid on him. There was a desire to reach out a hand-cup the back of his neck, feel the fine hairs there-but this was not the time to do that. Maybe there never would be.
Instead Zach leaned back, wiping imaginary dust from the table. “Well,” he said in a voice that broke the quiet. “You’re still invited to breakfast.”
Chris also stepped from the table, his eyes downcast as if mentally shaking himself. “I don’t have to stay-“
“Nonsense.” Zach tried to smile as he reached the doorway. “We’re having pancakes. Plenty for everybody.”
As Zach was about to head into the kitchen, Chris softly whispered, “Did you kill Karl Urban, Zach?”
Zach leaned on the doorframe, answering him earnestly. “Yes. Yes, I did.”
Chris gaped.
“Twice, in fact.”
And Zach left him there, walking to the living room to gather what possibly remained of pancake batter.
***
A lot did remain, surprisingly. Joey had been too engrossed in Scooby-Doo and in making the syrup to touch it, apparently.
“Not too much butter, Zo,” Zach warned from the other end of the kitchen, pulling down dishes for Anton to set the table with. “Then they’ll never cook.”
“I know, Dad-“
“Hey, Zoe,” Chris moseyed up beside her. “Ever seen a saguaro cactus?”
She frowned at him. “What?”
Zach wasn’t sure of this himself, but Chris took the spoonful of batter from her and went at it.
“It looks kind of like this.” He dropped the spoon back in the bowl, and held out a hand to stop Zoe peering too closely. “It usually hangs out in the desert, but they’re making a special appearance in Pittsburgh today.”
Zoe watched with evident glee, then stood back in awe as Chris took the handle and flipped the pancake straight upward.
Even Zach did a “Whoa”-especially when Chris caught it deftly in the pan again, Zach’s kitchen none the worse for wear.
“How- how did you-“
Chris shrugged, slipping the odd-shaped pancake onto a plate. “Magic, you could say.”
Zoe giggled at that one, then held the bowl as Chris dumped more butter and batter into the pan.
“Hey guys-“ Joey walked in, placing the syrup carefully in the center of the table. “Are you almost done? I’m starving here!”
“Chris is making cactuses!” Zoe shrieked, and Anton ran over to look.
“They look like hooks,” Anton muttered, confused.
“It’s a cactus with arms,” Zoe huffed, then stared back at Chris with adoration. “They’re so cool.”
“Anton-set the table, please?”
Zach handed the dishes off, then grabbed silverware and napkins as he eavesdropped on the pancake crew.
“My dad sings that song,” Zoe commented, and Zach caught the end of the hummed tune. “It’s by the Beatles, isn’t it? They’re kind of old.”
Chris flipped another pancake - apparently the last - and then searched for the buttons to turn the oven off. “Yep, and I’d say your dad has good taste.”
Zoe beamed, and Zach wondered a moment if he should worry about that-until Zoe pulled out two chairs and instructed Chris to sit next to him.
“Thank you,” Chris said, then whispered to Zach. “I think your kids like cacti.”
Zach whispered coyly back, “Well, usually our pancakes look like demolished moons.”
“Okay, let’s dish up the guest of honor, first!” Joey said, throwing a few pancakes on Chris’ plate. “Zoe, slide over the syrup.”
Chris leaned back, protesting with a hand. “Really, I’m usually just good with coffee-“
“Nonsense, eat up-hey, Zo?”
Zach was tied between giving Chris an apologetic look and glancing at Zoe’s wide-eyed expression.
Joey held out a hand. “Zoe, the syrup, pass it-hey!”
Zoe lifted the ceramic syrup boat from the table and ran away with it-with Anton yelling and running close behind.
Zach got up. “Zo?”
They all followed, reaching the outside garden which both kids ran passed-with Zoe shrieking with excitement as she threw the syrup boat into a line of trees.
“Zoe!” Joey shouted in frustration, but gave up his pursuit at the garden bushes. “You goddamn traitor!”
Zach and Chris both looked at him, then glanced at each other- where Zach was surprised by the look of anger on Chris’ face.
His eyes were ice blue. “You’re kidding me, right?”
Zach shook his head. “I don’t, I don’t get what-“
“Berries and herbs, huh? Is that what you fed Karl?”
Zach still shook his head, not quite comprehending. “I don’t get what you mean-Chris!”
“’Bye Zach. I’ll call if I need you for further questioning.”
“Wait-wait a minute!”
But by then Chris had already marched off to his car, slammed the door with a dirty look, and raced out of the driveway towards town.
Joey stood beside Zach and watched him go.
“What’s that about?” Joey said, still slightly out of breath.
It finally dawned on Zach and he gritted his teeth. “I don’t know. You tell me.”
Joey looked wide-eyed. “Why are you mad at me for?”
But Zach shoved past him with a glare, not missing a triumphant Zoe and Anton dancing in the periphery as he stormed into the house.
***
“I don’t understand what the big deal is.” Joey rushed from behind, almost smacking into Zach when he stopped in the kitchen.
“The big deal is that Chris-you know, the cop who could throw both our asses in jail?-is pissed off at us.”
“So? He’s been on our tail all week. If he had something, he’d have done it by now.”
“Not true, Joe.” Zach resisted the urge to punch him. “Not true.”
Joey looked skeptical, crossing his arms. “Okay Zach, fucking enlighten me.”
Zach let out a hiss of exasperation. “He’s building a case, all right? Practically insinuated that he won’t arrest me now in front of the kids, but probably will later.”
Joey’s eyes went wide. “Excuse me? For what?”
Zach smacked around the pans, throwing them one by one in the kitchen sink. “What do you think?”
Joey shook his head. “There’s no way-with what? I don’t understand.”
Zach went to the dining room table and picked up the cacti, angrily throwing them into a bin. “He knows about the belladonna. He must have found it in the damn car.”
Joey rubbed a hand over his face. “Fuck.”
“So you know what? I’m a tad pissed, because that all seems off the table now. You fucking do one of your goddamn spells, and now he thinks we’re both heartless criminals!”
“Wait a minute-wait a fucking minute.” Joey charged forward, pointing a finger. “I was trying to get him away from us, away from this damn house. I wanted him out of here-gone.” Joey sneered, getting into Zach’s face. “I haven’t been making friends with him.”
“Don’t you even go there-”
“I know he’s good-looking Zach, but-fuck.” Joey laughed. “Are you that desperate?”
Zach smacked a stack of plates against the table, hearing a strained crack. “That’s not it.”
“Well, you could’ve fooled me.” Joey looked straight into his eyes. “I bet if we had left him, you both would’ve gone all footsie under the damn table.”
Zach shoved him. “Shut up.”
“What? For telling the truth?” Joey held his hands up, staring wildly as Zach retreated to the kitchen sink. “You get all high and mighty on me, then get all offended when I throw it back?”
“You’re such a selfish fucking prick,” Zach snapped. “I’m just trying to do what doesn’t get us both thrown in jail.”
“Right, right,” Joey crooned sarcastically. “Then go fucking do that, Zach-go fucking run to your boyfriend.”
Zach whipped a towel at him, contemplating a mug next. “I fucking will.”
“Have fun, Zach. Have fun being a goddamn traitor.”
“You’re using that word a lot today. Projecting much?”
Zach spat the last out, just as Zoe and Anton walked into the kitchen.
“Dad?” Zoe said, looking around. “Where’s Chris?”
Joey and Zach still glared at each other, with Zach taking a deep breath to not let his over-whelming need to strangle Joey show.
“He went back to town, Zo,” Zach said lowly.
“Where he belongs,” Joey growled between clenched teeth.
“What?” Zoe walked between them, turning to Zach. “You need to go after him.”
“Oh, he will Zo.”
She turned to Joey. “You don’t understand! That’s the man in Dad’s spell.”
She rushed towards Zach, just as both men diffused in confusion.
“He has the hair, and the eyes, and can hum your favorite song-“
“Babe,” Zach said, his mind still trying to catch up. “I know you like him, but-“
“He hummed your favorite song!” Zoe repeated, louder. “And he flips pancakes, and knows Spanish, and-and-“ her hands waved in front of her face, exasperated. “Dad, just trust me on this one, you need to find him!”
“Zoe, I’d hate to break it to you,” Joey called from behind her. “But Chris isn’t exactly our friend right now.”
“Not your friend,” Zach countered, “We were doing just fine.” He missed Joey’s death glare as he gently patted Zoe’s hair. “I was going to talk to him right now, actually. I promise I’ll find him.”
“Please, Dad,” she said, anxiousness clear on her face. “It’s important.”
“Run to him, Zach. Go tell him everything.”
Zach made at face at Joey, but started walking towards the back door. “I love you, Zoe-Anton.” He grabbed his keys on a hanger, biting back that he’d be back later, for them not to worry. “’Bye, you guys.”
As he opened the back door he felt arms grab him from behind. Zach looked down surprised, smiling at the dark hand around his waist before he turned to hug Zoe properly.
“You are so good to me,” Zach whispered in her ear. “Take care of your brother.”
She kissed his cheek. “Bring Chris back with you.”
He didn’t want to pull away and show his worried expression, but she knew it anyway.
“Dad, trust the Universe for once.” She gave him a small smile. “Now go.”
Zach swallowed, wondering when Zoe had grown up on him-but did exactly as she said.
When he started the car and started to back up, he glanced towards the house - only Zoe and Anton were on the back steps, waving goodbye.
***
Zach had an inkling which tourist hotels to look for, but wasn’t sure until he saw Chris leaving one of the main offices.
“I’m not talking to you,” Chris said, drinking coffee from a styrofoam cup as Zach rushed to catch up with him.
“Please, I need to tell you something-“
“Unless you have a lawyer, that’s not wise.”
“I don’t want a lawyer.”
“Also not wise.”
“I waive the right to an attorney, dammit!” Zach spat, just as Chris stopped in front of his room.
They were a mere foot apart, and Chris looked him up and down with a raised brow. “Why?”
Zach struggled to find the words, with none of the right ones seeming to come out. “I’m-I’m tired of hiding, I guess.” He said softly, under his breath. “Lying.”
Chris had the key in the lock. “That’s nice.”
“Please believe me.” Zach reached out a hand, and on impulse touched Chris’ arm. “I’m sorry about what happened. I’m just trying to make it right.”
Chris looked away, contemplating a moment. But then turned the lock and gestured with an arm for Zach to walk in.
“You still have the right to an attorney.”
Zach passed him. “And I still have a right to waive it.”
As Chris sighed behind him and closed the door, Zach noticed the room was not that big-a single bed with a table and small bathroom. It barely looked lived in, except for the various papers and articles spread across a long dresser.
Zach walked slowly to the middle of the room, and Chris crossed to the small table and set his cup down.
“Well, let me grab my tape recorder,” Chris said, bending over to grab a duffel bag. “It’ll take a minute to set up.”
Which felt so official. As much as Chris didn’t seem angry anymore, Zach still glanced around the room nervously. The future seemed to start crowding him in-panic started to crush his chest.
Zach turned to the long dresser, begging for anything to distract him. There were a few photos, some bottles and clear plastic baggies. All looked like someone’s personal effects, laid out and categorized.
It was a cop’s room, all right-which didn’t help the panic.
Zach glanced at the photos, recognizing pieces of New York City. His eyes continued scanning, landing on a piece of folded notebook paper, handwritten words jumping out at him.
Words that seemed awfully familiar.
Dear Joey -
“Wait,” Zach said softly, picking up the folded paper. “These are all-” He unfolded it, the handwriting and words so clear. “This is my letter.”
Oh Gods, oh gods. I am so tired. So tired. I cannot believe a human being can function on how little sleep I've gotten in the last two weeks. But then, every time I look at Anton's curls and his tiny finger wraps around mine, my heart bursts and sleep is the furthest thing from my mind.
“These were private,” Zach growled, grabbing more folded pieces of paper. “I sent these to Joe!”
He turned-whirling on a Chris that was closer than he expected, the face apprehensive.
“Zach-“
“How did you get these?” Zach waved them in his face. “Did you take Joey’s stuff?”
“They were at the hotel,” Chris countered, his voice calm. “When the department got called about Karl Urban’s disappearance on a hotel bill, they handed over his bag. It was considered evidence.”
Zach looked back at the dresser, and sure enough-a woven knapsack was folded towards the end, labeled and numbered.
“Zach…” Chris started, his voice low. “I read them. I’m sorry, but I read them.”
Zach felt a breath stutter in his chest, the idea that-that Chris had known about Eric. Known about them. The life he had idly led some five years ago, almost a distant memory. Known about all the times he had pleaded with Joey-talked about how they’d do anything for him.
“Then you know everything,” Zach said quietly. “You know I’d do anything for my brother.”
Chris’ eyes went soft. “I do.” He moved slowly towards Zach, swallowing before he said, “I have to admit I admire that.”
His body was too close-Zach’s skin hummed at the proximity.
Zach looked away. “I need to make my confession.”
“I don’t want your confession,” Chris said, too close for comfort. “The only person in the LAPD who didn’t consider this case already closed was me. So get yourself a lawyer and then get the hell out of here.”
Zach narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean-“
“Ask me instead-“ his breath was a whisper on Zach’s cheek. “Ask me how many times I read your letters.”
Zach turned his head, their faces so close together. “How many?”
“Dozens of times.” Chris watched his face. “They led me to Pittsburgh.”
“Chris, I killed-“
Their lips smashed together, Chris’ hand grabbing the back of Zach’s neck to bring them impossibly close. It was warm and sparking-a heat building in Zach’s gut as their mouths opened, rekindling a memory of what this felt like, what it felt like to feel desire.
It had been a long time-Zach had forgotten so much of this. The way somebody felt as they leaned into him, crowding his space until Zach could think of nothing else. The hunger as Zach succumbed to a good kiss-someone possessing his mouth, his head tilted as Chris tasted all of him, fingers tracing his jaw. How thoughts flew from his mind as hands roved his sides, and Zach’s fingers itched to touch flesh-to grab and demand and explore.
Zach reached under the white t-shirt as Chris hummed into his mouth, the angle causing their bodies to fall and collide with a wall. Chris braced an arm as Zach bent into him-his neck exposed as he leaned backwards, sucking in breath as Chris mouthed his pulse, a tongue tracing to collarbone.
A feverish moment and Chris impatiently pressed him into the wall, changing the angle entirely, and clacked their belt buckles together. The sound was so jarring that Zach snapped out him, despite still parting his legs-despite still wanting the close proximity.
.
“We can’t-“ Zach licked his lower lip. “We shouldn’t do this.”
Zach pressed a hand against Chris’ chest, his fingers happily feeling the mucles there. But Chris stopped, panting for breath, eyes blown in mirrored desire.
But after a moment of clearing his head, Chris raised his hands in surrender and backed up. “You’re right-you’re right. We shouldn’t.”
Zach looked at their feet, the toes of their shoes touching. He felt his body sway as he looked up, catching that heart-stopping blue gaze upon him.
Zach took a deep breath, his brain struggling to remember exactly why this was a bad idea. His eyes scanned those lips-soft and pliant moments before-and then saw as Chris nervously darted a tongue out, licking a chapped edge.
Goddamn, Zach loved that. He wondered how it would feel on his cock.
Zach threw himself forward, and Chris caught him as they tumbled to the bed, barely missing falling to the floor. Chris was on top, then Zach rolled him over, straddling hips as he pressed down, eager to feel if Chris was as desperate as he was.
He had forgotten, too, this power that sex had over people. Zach wanted this so bad that his legs ached for it, his stomach like a dropped weight from a very tall building. He wanted the rushing and pain and discomfort so bad that he wanted to rip clothes off, wanted to smack bodies together and hear Chris grunt and moan out loud, all because of him.
Zach’s hands went under the hem of the white t-shirt and he impatiently whined, “Off-off!”
Chris bit Zach’s impatient lips, then sat up to do just that-Zach’s hands quickly replacing cotton to caress the freckled and pale skin. It was soft and beautiful in its own way, the kind that showed bruises better.
Chris threw Zach’s shirt off, and they both made hurried work of their jeans-convoluted and twisting, with Zach getting mad with a pant leg as Chris rolled him over, regaining the top. He mercifully palmed Zach through his underwear to make it worth it, and Zach’s eyes rolled to the top of his head, keening softly at the sensation of a hand finally touching his dick. But Zach sucked on Chris’ bottom lip, waiting for the moment of distraction-Zach wanted to torture this man, see him writhe beneath him. See Chris come because he was riding him, hips lifting as they both pounded into each other.
But the moment Zach made his move Chris countered, and instead of Zach pinning Chris to the bed Zach was pinned to the floor, hands above his head as Chris moved between his legs, hovering above him.
It was sweet surrender really, their cocks brushing together as Zach spread his legs wide. He heard noises pour from his mouth, heard Chris’ name babbled from his lips as they jerked their hips against each other, rutting helplessly.
Chris reached down and pulled them both out, and fuck it was perfect-Chris’ hard dick fisted with Zach’s, painful friction that would never be enough, but still making Zach come. He moaned loud as he came hard, the back of his head smacking the ground as his body shook. Chris looked just as lost and ridiculous above him, and Zach pulled him down for a rough kiss on the mouth, swallowing his moans as he felt Chris come across his stomach.
It was so fucking dirty. But Zach felt lighter than he had in a long time, his heart beating rapidly at the dead weight on top of him, sweaty and gross-probably as sweaty and gross as Zach, who hadn’t even bothered to shower that morning.
Zach panted, needing to breathe. He pushed a groaning Chris off of him, looking down at his chest-hair clumped and sticky. But as Zach motioned to get up to clean himself, Chris put out a hand-his eyes half-lidded as a damp lock stuck to his forehead.
“Stay-talking. Later.”
That was good enough reason for Zach to fall backwards, pulling the motel comforter down on top of them as he drowsed next to the warm and slick body beside him.
***
The light had shifted in the room when Zach finally woke up. Beyond feeling drowsy and sticky and gross, now his back hurt like hell from sleeping on the floor, and his neck cracked when he twisted it.
But on the other hand, Chris was still lying beside him-also on the floor, also looking satisfyingly uncomfortable. As Zach shifted closer, Chris opened his eyes and mumbled an incoherent and gravelly, “Mornin’.”
Zach quirked a lip. “Close, but no cigar.”
Chris breathed deeply, blinking to look at the shadows on the wall. “Okay, afternoon then.”
They were naked and cold beneath the motel bedspread, and Chris’ goosebumps were rough against sensitive flesh.
Zach stretched out an arm to grab more of the comforter, and he tucked it in around them. “We should probably get up.”
“Yeah.” Chris closed his eyes, grabbing Zach’s hip. “In a minute.”
Zach couldn’t complain as they stayed like that, wrapped around each other, undignified adults doing forbidden things.
He recalled that the last time he had slept during the day was, well-back when he had been depressed. And even earlier, way before Zoe and Anton had been born.
”Dad, trust the Universe for once.”
Zach’s eyes flew open, meeting the lazy gaze of sky blue.
Zoe was right-too right. He had begged the Universe with good intentions, but the Universe had the sadistic humor to deliver it to him, regardless of that intent.
Chris frowned. “What’s that face for?”
Zach wrapped the blanket closer to him, sitting up. “We can’t do this.”
“Hate to break it to you, but we just did.”
Zach shook his head, leaning against the bed. “I mean, we can’t-“ Zach looked around for his clothes, then threw the blanket off. “You don’t understand.”
As Zach gathered his things, Chris aimed him with a skeptical stare. “What do you mean?”
Zach stood up, naked-spine cracking and back sore. But those things didn’t quite matter as much with Chris Pine also naked and looking hurt, still sprawled across the floor.
Zach put on a pants leg, wondering where to start. “Magick.” He zipped himself up. “You’re here because I did a love spell when I was too young to know better, thinking you’d never happen and possibly exist.” He unfolded his t-shirt. “I’m really, really sorry-I didn’t think anything would come of it.”
When the shirt went over and fabric cleared from his vision, he saw Chris wickedly grinning up at him-not the upset or severe Chris he’d expected.
Zach balked. “You don’t get it.”
“Oh, I think I do.” Chris sat up, his legs still wide open and beckoning. “You’re saying you’re running away because I’m exactly what you want.”
Zach slipped on his shoes. “Don’t be an ass.”
“Then don’t be obtuse.” Chris tilted his head. “Zach, you’re saying I want you because of a spell.”
“I know it is.”
“Then you’re not giving me enough credit.”
Zach patted his pockets, searching. “It’s not a matter of willpower.”
“Then what is it?”
Zach huffed, looking at the floor near the dresser. “Okay-spell supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.”
Chris looked up, taking a moment before his fingertips seemed to tick off the letters. “S-u-p-e-r-c-a-l-i-f- “
“I rest my case.”
“What, because I can spell?”
“It’s a part of what I asked for.”
“Then you’re in luck.” Chris’ eyes twinkled. “That word may have won me the fourth grade spelling bee championship.”
“Where are my keys?”
“Come on-this magic stuff is much more than just manipulating, isn’t it? Didn’t you say something about the power of intent?”
A naked arm crossed into Zach’s vision. He looked up to see Chris standing in front of him, dangling his car keys as he wore only a wan smile.
Zach had to remember to breathe. “Yeah, my intent. You didn’t have any choice.”
“Wrong, Zach.” Chris swallowed. “I chose to come here. Don’t I get any credit for that?”
Zach passed him, reaching the door. “Not when I called you here.”
“What, some twenty years ago?”
“’Bye, Chris.”
“Wait a fucking minute, I’m not dres-“
But Zach closed the door behind him and bolted to his car-not running away, he told himself, but obeying the foreboding feeling in his gut.
As he started the engine and raced out of the parking lot, he thought, It’s for the best.
***
Zach pulled into the long driveway, the digital clock on the dash saying 4:34. It was almost a shameful number-not doubt Joey, and perhaps Zoe, would know what he’d been up to. He still walked stiffly and a bit funny, and if either of them noticed-well, Zach had no idea what to say.
The feelings still drowned his chest, and he didn’t want to label them. Eric had been with him-some of the best years of his life-because of a love spell. The dilemma was that why would he ever choose to trap Chris into the same thing? That wasn’t fair-and certainly not love. Not love given under someone's free will.
He shoved open the car door, not anxious to go back inside. Joey was probably still mad at him-maybe more so-and Zach didn’t want to argue right now. What he wanted most was a shower and to lie in his bed, wondering whether he actually did need a lawyer, or if he could just blissfully fall asleep.
He entered through the backway, closing the screendoor slowly before he ambled inside, hoping to catch no one’s notice.
But instead Joey leaned against a kitchen counter, watching him.
Zach sighed. “Joe, whatever you’ve got to say, can it wait-“
But Joey met him halfway, an arm encircling for a wordless embrace.
It was almost too much-in any other time of their lives Zach would’ve fallen to Joey just like this, telling him about what had just happened and how he felt. He placed his chin on a shoulder, wondering if he still could-closing his eyes as Joey rubbed a circle into his lower back.
Maybe he could still have some semblance of his old life before it all went to hell. Maybe it wasn't over yet.
But when he turned his head he felt a long, wet stripe of the tongue paint his cheek, the arms grasping him tight.
“I like brothers,” Joey whispered, the cold breath skating across Zach's ear.
The voice was foreign, the body smelling too much of alcohol and dirt-things he would never associate with his brother.
Zach jerked away, and fists gripped his shoulders tightly. Coal-darkened eyes burrowed into his with a maniacal and dangerous stare.
Zach tried to calm his breathing. “You’re not Joe.”
“Nope,” Joey said, then grinned. “But his body will suffice.”
Zach shoved him in the chest, then smacked back with an elbow to break the grip. Joey coughed and fell into the stove, holding his chest as he sputtered a laugh.
“You pansy bitch.”
“I’m not the one stealing somebody’s body right now,” Zach said, putting himself behind the dining room table. “Talk about being somebody’s bitch.”
Joey growled, an exaggerated sneer of cartoon villains stretching his face. If it weren’t for the fact his brother was possessed, Zach would probably have laughed.
Joey fell against the opposite side of the table, his lips pale and taunting. “Wanna fuck here? You’re ready-I can smell it on you.”
Zach shoved the table with all his might, punching Joey in the solar plexus and making him unsteady. While Zach didn’t want to maim his brother, he grabbed a broom and smacked Joey down to the ground-a foot on his chest as the body was caught off-guard.
Zach pressed down with his shoe, with Joey’s arms flailing as Zach aimed the broom handle at his throat. “Get the fuck out of my brother.”
“No way.”
Zach pressed harder, the boot precariously close to cracking ribs. “If you’re Karl, I swear to Gods-“
“Your brother was like a ragdoll,” Joey wheezed, aiming Zach with a wicked grin. “I could throw him the fuck around, and he never said nothin’.”
Zach pressed harder, but then remembered who he was hurting and eased off.
Joey laughed. “You won’t kill me.”
Zach pressed again, but it was the truth. He swallowed the fear of how far they might have to play this-visions of blood and cracked bones playing in his head-while trying to remember everything he knew about possessions.
Joey gave him a coy glance. “If you suck me off, I’ll think of leaving.”
Zach swiped the broom end, hitting Joey in the face with straw. He kicked a hip as Joey rubbed his eyes, smacking the top of his head against a table leg as Zach ran to the spell parlor, wondering if the lock still worked.
There was a fervent moment where Zach hoped Zoe and Anton were outside, or that Joey hadn’t noticed their existence in the house. If Zach could lure Joey to the parlor, it could start and end there, with nobody else involved.
Except when Zach skidded past the threshold he saw Zoe and Anton cowering under the table, clutching a shaking Noah between them, all guarded within a heavy ring of consecrated sea salt.
“Dad!” Zoe yelled, yet clutched Anton and Noah closer.
Zach shook his head in panicked silence-then made the split-second decision to run back out and lock the door.
“Dad!”
Zach turned around and saw that Joey had staggered upright again-and he was laughing. Hell, who knew devils laughed so often?
“That was stupid, Zach.”
Zach had to agree-all the supplies in the house were locked behind him. And worse, now Zoe and Anton couldn’t get out if something happened to him.
But Zach stood his ground, his mind trying to recall all the shielding spells he had used in school. He imagined the wall of white light between him and Joey, powerful enough to keep the evil out.
But Joey shook his head. “You fucking kidding me?” Then he barreled towards him-smashing through the white wall and throwing Zach against the door.
Zach could hear Zoe pounding on the glass as Joey crawled over him, hands immediately going for his throat.
“You’re taller,” Joey hissed, teeth mere inches from Zach’s face. “Might wanna be you for a while.”
Zach felt a crowding of the brain, just as breath started to become scarce. Panic and adrenaline flew through his bloodstream, his legs kicking behind Joey as the devil’s hands pressed down, unconcerned.
The room was tunneling-Zoe’s voice becoming dimmer-when he heard a snarl above him.
It sounded like a cat fight, the hissing loud and shrill. Zach tried to blink and focus his eyes, but all he saw was a dark whirl-Joey staggering backwards due the object near his face.
When Joey fell against a counter and changed position, Zach saw that Joey was pushing against it-and that the object had long claws digging into Joey’s face and neck
Zach gasped as he realized who it was. “Siouxsie.”
Zach gained his legs back under him, looking around for a heavy object to help Siouxsie Sioux finish the job. He crawled to the cabinet of pots and pans, ripping open the door, only to hear a loud yowl-and a sickening thump and crack of a body against the wall.
Zach swallowed the bile in his throat, standing up with an iron pan-his mouth dropping in horror as he saw Siouxsie Sioux on the ground, her body bent in an odd position.
That fucking demon cat-but poor Siouxsie Sioux. Poor, poor Siouxsie.
Zach held the pan near his chest, strengthening his resolve against the grinning Joey across from him, separated by nothing but empty linoleum floor. Joey would never have done that to a cat, no matter the pain he was in. It only made the person across from him that more horrifying-and nothing like his brother.
Joey lept at him, and Zach swung and aimed for an arm. And while he whacked and made contact, it made absolutely no difference-Joey still going for his throat, causing the pan to drop on their feet.
Zach yelped in pain, causing Joey to grin as he pinned Zach against the counter, the edge digging into his lower back. Air was constricted again, and Zach could’ve laughed-there they were again, and this time Zach was really fucking screwed.
Until a shoe hit Joey in the head.
The pressure eased off his throat, and Zach fell to the ground as he heaved shallow breaths, blacking in and out.
“What the hell are you doing?”
Zach registered the voice, his eyelids fluttering as he fought for consciousness to see what was happening to Chris-his heart catching in his throat at what might happen to Chris.
Joey seemed to find Chris amusing. “Well-never fucking mind. You’re prettier.”
There was scuffling as Joey rushed past him, and Zach fell on his back to see where he went. His blurred vision focused to see Chris backed against the dining table, pointing his gun.
Joey kept rushing, and Zach prayed to the Gods that Chris wouldn’t actually shoot.
“Stop, stop it right there-“
But when Joey moved with superhuman strength and kicked the gun out of his hands, Chris seemed to get a clue.
Chris stared dumbfounded, the impetus pushing him backwards. “The fuck-“
“What you gonna do about your boyfriend now?” Joey stalked forward, confident in his prey. “Think he’ll fuck you when I’ve got ya?”
Joey made a grab for Chris’ arm, but instead Chris flinched backward and balled his fist.
“Who are you?” Chris spat out, his posture taut and ready to punch.
Joey quirked a lip, coy and wicked, before answering lowly, “Why, I think you’ve been looking for me.”
Chris tripped over a chair, gawking. “Fuck me.”
“With pleasure.” And with that Joey raced forward-his feet too quick to avoid slamming into the raised chair in Chris’ hands, the wooden legs stabbing a shoulder and causing Joey to snarl in pain.
It gave Chris a moment to move towards Zach.
“Hey-“
Zach shook his head, looking at Joey regaining strength behind them. As Chris followed Zach’s gaze he positioned himself in front of him, a hand grabbing Zach’s as Chris became a barrier.
The spirit was pissed now. Blood was caked and gushing from cuts along his face and arms, yet muscles strained so tensely that Zach worried they might burst from skin.
Joey bared his teeth. “Fuck you both-and when I’m done, I’m fucking ripping apart those stupid children.”
Just as Joey flashed forward, a thought passed through Zach’s mind. He squeezed Chris’ hand and yelled out, “Badge!”
And to Chris’ credit, he quickly remembered that conversation. He whipped out the gold star from his breast pocket, his talisman, and the metal caught the light. He held it out right in front of them, and glinted light became a white arrow in the darkness of Karl’s roaring spirit.
A grotesque face burst from Joey’s head into a swarm of black dust. Just as Joey’s body dropped to the kitchen floor, a dark flash winked and snapped out of existence. But the dust remained as it fell heavy-the body a magnet as all of it reabsorbed and burrowed into the lifeless form below.
Zach crawled forward, leaning over the feverish body as the last of dust disappeared in the whites of Joey’s eyes.
“Joe?” He poked. “Joey?”
Zach touched the sweat-sheened skin and felt Joey’s forehead, clammy and pale. Rolling Joey onto his back Zach could see his lips were moving, murmuring incomprehensibly, his body trembling and restless.
Zach looked up at Chris, who was still staring with wide-eyed disbelief at Joey. His focus was only broken when Zoe rattled the door and called out again.
“Dad?”
Chris turned and twisted the doorknob. He looked at the pinhole in the handle with confusion, before glancing back at Zach.
Zach shook his head. “Use a bobby pin from the drawer.”
“Don’t worry Zoe,” Chris said, fumbling through a kitchen drawer. “We’ll break you out of there.”
“Chris?”
Zach turned back to Joey, letting Chris reassure Zoe and Anton in the background as he analyzed his brother.
It wasn’t good.
Not only did Zach clearly see the dust get soaked back into the body, but it also seemed to grip Joey more fiercely. Whatever that flash was, it was if it took consciousness with it, the dust an anchor for whatever evil touched his brother. While it left no visible mark or stain, Zach felt the negative vibes like an itch beneath the skin.
Zach got to his knees, feeling sore, but bent over the body.
“Joey,” he whispered, “Come back. Come back to us.” He lightly slapped a cheek. “Fight him off. Kick him out of your life for good.”
“Is he going to be okay?”
Zach looked up, meeting Chris’ concerned gaze. There was a moment when a part of him wanted to crumble to the worry-let Chris know that this was freaking him out, even as a witch. But instead he swallowed it and looked back down with resolve.
“He’s still possessed.”
He heard Chris sharply inhale. “Shouldn’t we take him to a hospital?”
Zach shook his head. “He’d be on a machine forever and we’d never save him. Nobody would know what to do, except us.”
Except Zach had no clear idea either.
Zach felt Zoe at his side, and when she leaned into him, he felt her trembling. “Dad, Siouxsie is dead.”
Zach swallowed, the emotions of seeing it happen hitting him hard again. Zach held out his arm for Zoe to fall into, but she shook her head, staring with fear down at Joey.
“He killed Siouxsie Sioux, didn’t he?” Her anxious eyes met his. “He killed a cat.”
Chris looked at confusion at the lot of them, but Anton burrowed under Zach’s arm, clearly understanding the danger.
Chris shook his head. “I don’t-?”
Zach closed his eyes a moment, wondering how he could explain it. That while they weren’t ancient Egyptians, there was a certain level of awareness and respect. That cats were considered to have one foot in this world and one foot in the next, connected to the fairies-that they were a different level of spirit on the Earth, definitely set apart from Noah still cowering in the spell parlor.
To kill a cat was to have no respect for magick at all-for everything that him and Joey and their enture family believed in.
“It’s bad,” Zach admitted. And when he opened up his arm again Zoe fell into it, hugging him close.
Anton tilted his face. “Dad, shouldn't we put Uncle Joey to bed?
Anton’s eyes were red and on the verge of tears again, and Zach’s heart clenched.
“Uncle Joey is going to be okay, I promise.” He kissed Anton’s forehead. “Both of you were so brave-I’m proud of you.”
“When you left, Uncle Joey went upstairs,” Zoe started. “We hung out watching TV, and-“ she glanced in Chris’ direction. “Well, we just watched stuff.”
“When did things turn weird?”
Zoe gripped Zach’s shirt. “Lunchtime, maybe.”
Zach felt the guilt overwhelm him. He should have been here protecting them and watching out for Joey. Not making love-having sex-with the guy who was going to arrest him.
But Chris reached out a hand and touched Zoe’s shoulder. “That must have been really scary.”
Zoe turned to him, and Zach could read the nod without her doing it.
She bit her lip. “He started walking around the house, muttering-it’s like he didn’t even notice us. He was pulling on his hair and singing this one song.”
Zach winced, having an idea of which one.
Zoe looked to Zach, leaning over to squeeze Anton’s arm. “When he started to cuss and yell, I took Anton into the spell parlor.”
Zach couldn’t help but hate himself in that moment. But he leaned forward and touched their foreheads together. “You did good, Zo.” He kissed her temple, wondering if they should have escape routes like fire plans-the next time there’s soul possession, Zoe and Anton to run far, far away.
But he heard Chris hum in agreement. “You did a good thing by keeping your brother safe.”
Zoe turned her head against Zach’s shoulder and feigned a small smile. “Thank you.”
Chris looked at all them with a wan smile himself, and then glanced down at Joey. “Is there anything I can do?”
Zach and Zoe shared a glance, before Zach looked at Chris.
“We need to move Joe into the parlor.”
Part Five
Pairings: Chris Pine/Zachary Quinto, Joe Quinto/Karl Urban, Eric Bana/Zachary Quinto
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: A brief mention of animal abuse, domestic violence and senseless brutality, murder and mayhem, language, sex of dubious consent and with consent, blood-letting, four not-Pinto character deaths, and religious and occult subjects.
Parts: One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Author Notes
Zach was up at seven, going to the garden to cull the last of the autumn herbs and flowers. Someone had to do it-and maybe after today he wouldn’t be around to continue the tradition.
Not that Zach thought he’d be led away in handcuffs, but Chris kept coming around for a reason. Maybe that reason was only building a case against him, and he shouldn’t be so calm with the athame pruning lovage and angelica in their wilting splendor.
He put them in separate canisters, not quite aware that he was being watched.
“Which ones are you gathering?”
Zach didn’t turn his head at Chris’ voice, instead opening another container for sunflowers. “Well, I just did angelica and lovage. Gathering seeds now for next year.”
He finished doing so in silence, the idea of being observed not entirely disconcerting. His children weeded that discomfort out of him-Zoe being the worst in her younger years, quiet and practically unblinking. But now she was set to be an excellent herbalist herself, so he supposed it had paid off. Maybe she would tend the garden when he was gone.
Zach gathered the containers, standing to turn and see Chris in a white t-shirt and jeans. Not dressed in the way Zach expected, and even more so, not with the soft look in his eyes turned towards him, so different from their last meeting.
“Want help carrying those?”
Zach wordlessly nodded, handing over the sunflower seeds.
They walked to the spell parlor, passing the empty kitchen, where Zach finally noticed the clock-8:30.
“Sorry. I got lost in time out there, I guess.”
Chris waved a hand. “No worries. Zoe told me where you were.”
Zach nodded. “Are her and Joey still watching cartoons?”
“Yep-and making our pancakes, I guess?” Chris placed the canister down gently. “Although I think they were eating the batter more than mixing-or perhaps that was just the homemade syrup. Anton said it was made of crushed berries and herbs.”
Zach placed his canisters on the table, mildly impressed that Chris remembered their names. “He’s kind of impossible.”
“They’re great, Zach. Zoe was very gracious.”
Of course Zoe was-Zach never worried a moment about her. “I think she’s going to be a politician or diplomat someday.”
He bent over for a crate of jars, pulling them up to set on the table. They were all organized and labeled, filled with tiny seeds.
“Yeah,” Chris finally said. “Although I would never wish politics on her.”
Zach cracked a smile. “You and me both.”
Chris peered curiously at the jars. “You guys are really organized.”
Zach shrugged. “Have to be. We’ve been growing here for generations-it kind of happened over time, I’m guessing.”
Chris looked along the alphabet, his eyes squinting to read the labels. “I’m not seeing some of the things you had at the shop.”
“Climate can prevent that.” Zach sealed the jar. “The northeast isn’t entirely forgiving. We keep thinking of building a greenhouse. The shop is doing okay, but it would save expense down the line to grow some stuff I usually import.”
“Like belladonna.”
Zach looked up sharply, seeing that Chris was still looking at the jars.
“Belladonna is illegal in some states.” Zach pulled the crate abruptly towards him, and lowered it underneath the cabinets. “I don’t sell it at the shop.”
Zach wouldn’t trust anyone with it, certainly. Anyone wanting it that badly could get it through other means. Thankfully possessing it wasn’t illegal, but the FDA didn’t endorse its use.
“So how would you get it?” Chris asked, looking at a line of small drawers and cabinets, some with clear labels.
Zach’s mind raced with all the possibilities, each one leading to the only one possible.
“Internet or mail-order.” Zach put away his supplies, slipping the athame in a drawer. “But there are many substitutions, so most people just don’t use it anymore.” Except old-schoolers like his mother, of course.
Chris nodded absently. “You have an impressive herbal collection here.”
“You’re in our laboratory, of sorts.”
Chris faced him, his arms braced against the table as he leaned in, giving Zach a pinning stare. Under any other circumstances, Zach could confess to himself how appealing the image was-how appealing Chris was. Close enough to meet across the table if Zach wanted to, but would not.
Chris said softly, “Do you know where Karl Urban is?”
Zach took a deep breath. “No.” Heaven or hell, one couldn’t guarantee these things.
Chris smiled, a small smile-the one of some intimate knowledge that Zach would probably like to have.
“I don’t believe that.”
Zach braced against the table himself, daring himself to lean in. “If you know where he is, then why are you here?”
“Because I’m pretty sure you, or your brother, did something to Mr. Urban.”
Zach felt something inside him break-the cage for a desperate animal perhaps, now wandering the edges of his mind for escape.
“We did nothing but drive ourselves home,” Zach said lowly. “If you can somehow disprove that, then I’d really like to know.”
Chris didn’t back down from his stare, but his mouth formed a wan expression. “The problem is-I believe you.”
Zach blinked, unsure of what that meant.
“But I can’t exactly prove that.” Chris sighed, the breath traveling the distance closing between them. “I’ll be honest, Zach-you have a case building against you, and it’s really convincing.”
Zach watched as Chris’ gaze traveled his face, seeming to settle on his lips. “But I would never cart you away in front of your children. Just… so you know.”
Zach considered that a moment, gazing back with the same sort intensity that Chris laid on him. There was a desire to reach out a hand-cup the back of his neck, feel the fine hairs there-but this was not the time to do that. Maybe there never would be.
Instead Zach leaned back, wiping imaginary dust from the table. “Well,” he said in a voice that broke the quiet. “You’re still invited to breakfast.”
Chris also stepped from the table, his eyes downcast as if mentally shaking himself. “I don’t have to stay-“
“Nonsense.” Zach tried to smile as he reached the doorway. “We’re having pancakes. Plenty for everybody.”
As Zach was about to head into the kitchen, Chris softly whispered, “Did you kill Karl Urban, Zach?”
Zach leaned on the doorframe, answering him earnestly. “Yes. Yes, I did.”
Chris gaped.
“Twice, in fact.”
And Zach left him there, walking to the living room to gather what possibly remained of pancake batter.
***
A lot did remain, surprisingly. Joey had been too engrossed in Scooby-Doo and in making the syrup to touch it, apparently.
“Not too much butter, Zo,” Zach warned from the other end of the kitchen, pulling down dishes for Anton to set the table with. “Then they’ll never cook.”
“I know, Dad-“
“Hey, Zoe,” Chris moseyed up beside her. “Ever seen a saguaro cactus?”
She frowned at him. “What?”
Zach wasn’t sure of this himself, but Chris took the spoonful of batter from her and went at it.
“It looks kind of like this.” He dropped the spoon back in the bowl, and held out a hand to stop Zoe peering too closely. “It usually hangs out in the desert, but they’re making a special appearance in Pittsburgh today.”
Zoe watched with evident glee, then stood back in awe as Chris took the handle and flipped the pancake straight upward.
Even Zach did a “Whoa”-especially when Chris caught it deftly in the pan again, Zach’s kitchen none the worse for wear.
“How- how did you-“
Chris shrugged, slipping the odd-shaped pancake onto a plate. “Magic, you could say.”
Zoe giggled at that one, then held the bowl as Chris dumped more butter and batter into the pan.
“Hey guys-“ Joey walked in, placing the syrup carefully in the center of the table. “Are you almost done? I’m starving here!”
“Chris is making cactuses!” Zoe shrieked, and Anton ran over to look.
“They look like hooks,” Anton muttered, confused.
“It’s a cactus with arms,” Zoe huffed, then stared back at Chris with adoration. “They’re so cool.”
“Anton-set the table, please?”
Zach handed the dishes off, then grabbed silverware and napkins as he eavesdropped on the pancake crew.
“My dad sings that song,” Zoe commented, and Zach caught the end of the hummed tune. “It’s by the Beatles, isn’t it? They’re kind of old.”
Chris flipped another pancake - apparently the last - and then searched for the buttons to turn the oven off. “Yep, and I’d say your dad has good taste.”
Zoe beamed, and Zach wondered a moment if he should worry about that-until Zoe pulled out two chairs and instructed Chris to sit next to him.
“Thank you,” Chris said, then whispered to Zach. “I think your kids like cacti.”
Zach whispered coyly back, “Well, usually our pancakes look like demolished moons.”
“Okay, let’s dish up the guest of honor, first!” Joey said, throwing a few pancakes on Chris’ plate. “Zoe, slide over the syrup.”
Chris leaned back, protesting with a hand. “Really, I’m usually just good with coffee-“
“Nonsense, eat up-hey, Zo?”
Zach was tied between giving Chris an apologetic look and glancing at Zoe’s wide-eyed expression.
Joey held out a hand. “Zoe, the syrup, pass it-hey!”
Zoe lifted the ceramic syrup boat from the table and ran away with it-with Anton yelling and running close behind.
Zach got up. “Zo?”
They all followed, reaching the outside garden which both kids ran passed-with Zoe shrieking with excitement as she threw the syrup boat into a line of trees.
“Zoe!” Joey shouted in frustration, but gave up his pursuit at the garden bushes. “You goddamn traitor!”
Zach and Chris both looked at him, then glanced at each other- where Zach was surprised by the look of anger on Chris’ face.
His eyes were ice blue. “You’re kidding me, right?”
Zach shook his head. “I don’t, I don’t get what-“
“Berries and herbs, huh? Is that what you fed Karl?”
Zach still shook his head, not quite comprehending. “I don’t get what you mean-Chris!”
“’Bye Zach. I’ll call if I need you for further questioning.”
“Wait-wait a minute!”
But by then Chris had already marched off to his car, slammed the door with a dirty look, and raced out of the driveway towards town.
Joey stood beside Zach and watched him go.
“What’s that about?” Joey said, still slightly out of breath.
It finally dawned on Zach and he gritted his teeth. “I don’t know. You tell me.”
Joey looked wide-eyed. “Why are you mad at me for?”
But Zach shoved past him with a glare, not missing a triumphant Zoe and Anton dancing in the periphery as he stormed into the house.
***
“I don’t understand what the big deal is.” Joey rushed from behind, almost smacking into Zach when he stopped in the kitchen.
“The big deal is that Chris-you know, the cop who could throw both our asses in jail?-is pissed off at us.”
“So? He’s been on our tail all week. If he had something, he’d have done it by now.”
“Not true, Joe.” Zach resisted the urge to punch him. “Not true.”
Joey looked skeptical, crossing his arms. “Okay Zach, fucking enlighten me.”
Zach let out a hiss of exasperation. “He’s building a case, all right? Practically insinuated that he won’t arrest me now in front of the kids, but probably will later.”
Joey’s eyes went wide. “Excuse me? For what?”
Zach smacked around the pans, throwing them one by one in the kitchen sink. “What do you think?”
Joey shook his head. “There’s no way-with what? I don’t understand.”
Zach went to the dining room table and picked up the cacti, angrily throwing them into a bin. “He knows about the belladonna. He must have found it in the damn car.”
Joey rubbed a hand over his face. “Fuck.”
“So you know what? I’m a tad pissed, because that all seems off the table now. You fucking do one of your goddamn spells, and now he thinks we’re both heartless criminals!”
“Wait a minute-wait a fucking minute.” Joey charged forward, pointing a finger. “I was trying to get him away from us, away from this damn house. I wanted him out of here-gone.” Joey sneered, getting into Zach’s face. “I haven’t been making friends with him.”
“Don’t you even go there-”
“I know he’s good-looking Zach, but-fuck.” Joey laughed. “Are you that desperate?”
Zach smacked a stack of plates against the table, hearing a strained crack. “That’s not it.”
“Well, you could’ve fooled me.” Joey looked straight into his eyes. “I bet if we had left him, you both would’ve gone all footsie under the damn table.”
Zach shoved him. “Shut up.”
“What? For telling the truth?” Joey held his hands up, staring wildly as Zach retreated to the kitchen sink. “You get all high and mighty on me, then get all offended when I throw it back?”
“You’re such a selfish fucking prick,” Zach snapped. “I’m just trying to do what doesn’t get us both thrown in jail.”
“Right, right,” Joey crooned sarcastically. “Then go fucking do that, Zach-go fucking run to your boyfriend.”
Zach whipped a towel at him, contemplating a mug next. “I fucking will.”
“Have fun, Zach. Have fun being a goddamn traitor.”
“You’re using that word a lot today. Projecting much?”
Zach spat the last out, just as Zoe and Anton walked into the kitchen.
“Dad?” Zoe said, looking around. “Where’s Chris?”
Joey and Zach still glared at each other, with Zach taking a deep breath to not let his over-whelming need to strangle Joey show.
“He went back to town, Zo,” Zach said lowly.
“Where he belongs,” Joey growled between clenched teeth.
“What?” Zoe walked between them, turning to Zach. “You need to go after him.”
“Oh, he will Zo.”
She turned to Joey. “You don’t understand! That’s the man in Dad’s spell.”
She rushed towards Zach, just as both men diffused in confusion.
“He has the hair, and the eyes, and can hum your favorite song-“
“Babe,” Zach said, his mind still trying to catch up. “I know you like him, but-“
“He hummed your favorite song!” Zoe repeated, louder. “And he flips pancakes, and knows Spanish, and-and-“ her hands waved in front of her face, exasperated. “Dad, just trust me on this one, you need to find him!”
“Zoe, I’d hate to break it to you,” Joey called from behind her. “But Chris isn’t exactly our friend right now.”
“Not your friend,” Zach countered, “We were doing just fine.” He missed Joey’s death glare as he gently patted Zoe’s hair. “I was going to talk to him right now, actually. I promise I’ll find him.”
“Please, Dad,” she said, anxiousness clear on her face. “It’s important.”
“Run to him, Zach. Go tell him everything.”
Zach made at face at Joey, but started walking towards the back door. “I love you, Zoe-Anton.” He grabbed his keys on a hanger, biting back that he’d be back later, for them not to worry. “’Bye, you guys.”
As he opened the back door he felt arms grab him from behind. Zach looked down surprised, smiling at the dark hand around his waist before he turned to hug Zoe properly.
“You are so good to me,” Zach whispered in her ear. “Take care of your brother.”
She kissed his cheek. “Bring Chris back with you.”
He didn’t want to pull away and show his worried expression, but she knew it anyway.
“Dad, trust the Universe for once.” She gave him a small smile. “Now go.”
Zach swallowed, wondering when Zoe had grown up on him-but did exactly as she said.
When he started the car and started to back up, he glanced towards the house - only Zoe and Anton were on the back steps, waving goodbye.
***
Zach had an inkling which tourist hotels to look for, but wasn’t sure until he saw Chris leaving one of the main offices.
“I’m not talking to you,” Chris said, drinking coffee from a styrofoam cup as Zach rushed to catch up with him.
“Please, I need to tell you something-“
“Unless you have a lawyer, that’s not wise.”
“I don’t want a lawyer.”
“Also not wise.”
“I waive the right to an attorney, dammit!” Zach spat, just as Chris stopped in front of his room.
They were a mere foot apart, and Chris looked him up and down with a raised brow. “Why?”
Zach struggled to find the words, with none of the right ones seeming to come out. “I’m-I’m tired of hiding, I guess.” He said softly, under his breath. “Lying.”
Chris had the key in the lock. “That’s nice.”
“Please believe me.” Zach reached out a hand, and on impulse touched Chris’ arm. “I’m sorry about what happened. I’m just trying to make it right.”
Chris looked away, contemplating a moment. But then turned the lock and gestured with an arm for Zach to walk in.
“You still have the right to an attorney.”
Zach passed him. “And I still have a right to waive it.”
As Chris sighed behind him and closed the door, Zach noticed the room was not that big-a single bed with a table and small bathroom. It barely looked lived in, except for the various papers and articles spread across a long dresser.
Zach walked slowly to the middle of the room, and Chris crossed to the small table and set his cup down.
“Well, let me grab my tape recorder,” Chris said, bending over to grab a duffel bag. “It’ll take a minute to set up.”
Which felt so official. As much as Chris didn’t seem angry anymore, Zach still glanced around the room nervously. The future seemed to start crowding him in-panic started to crush his chest.
Zach turned to the long dresser, begging for anything to distract him. There were a few photos, some bottles and clear plastic baggies. All looked like someone’s personal effects, laid out and categorized.
It was a cop’s room, all right-which didn’t help the panic.
Zach glanced at the photos, recognizing pieces of New York City. His eyes continued scanning, landing on a piece of folded notebook paper, handwritten words jumping out at him.
Words that seemed awfully familiar.
Dear Joey -
“Wait,” Zach said softly, picking up the folded paper. “These are all-” He unfolded it, the handwriting and words so clear. “This is my letter.”
Oh Gods, oh gods. I am so tired. So tired. I cannot believe a human being can function on how little sleep I've gotten in the last two weeks. But then, every time I look at Anton's curls and his tiny finger wraps around mine, my heart bursts and sleep is the furthest thing from my mind.
“These were private,” Zach growled, grabbing more folded pieces of paper. “I sent these to Joe!”
He turned-whirling on a Chris that was closer than he expected, the face apprehensive.
“Zach-“
“How did you get these?” Zach waved them in his face. “Did you take Joey’s stuff?”
“They were at the hotel,” Chris countered, his voice calm. “When the department got called about Karl Urban’s disappearance on a hotel bill, they handed over his bag. It was considered evidence.”
Zach looked back at the dresser, and sure enough-a woven knapsack was folded towards the end, labeled and numbered.
“Zach…” Chris started, his voice low. “I read them. I’m sorry, but I read them.”
Zach felt a breath stutter in his chest, the idea that-that Chris had known about Eric. Known about them. The life he had idly led some five years ago, almost a distant memory. Known about all the times he had pleaded with Joey-talked about how they’d do anything for him.
“Then you know everything,” Zach said quietly. “You know I’d do anything for my brother.”
Chris’ eyes went soft. “I do.” He moved slowly towards Zach, swallowing before he said, “I have to admit I admire that.”
His body was too close-Zach’s skin hummed at the proximity.
Zach looked away. “I need to make my confession.”
“I don’t want your confession,” Chris said, too close for comfort. “The only person in the LAPD who didn’t consider this case already closed was me. So get yourself a lawyer and then get the hell out of here.”
Zach narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean-“
“Ask me instead-“ his breath was a whisper on Zach’s cheek. “Ask me how many times I read your letters.”
Zach turned his head, their faces so close together. “How many?”
“Dozens of times.” Chris watched his face. “They led me to Pittsburgh.”
“Chris, I killed-“
Their lips smashed together, Chris’ hand grabbing the back of Zach’s neck to bring them impossibly close. It was warm and sparking-a heat building in Zach’s gut as their mouths opened, rekindling a memory of what this felt like, what it felt like to feel desire.
It had been a long time-Zach had forgotten so much of this. The way somebody felt as they leaned into him, crowding his space until Zach could think of nothing else. The hunger as Zach succumbed to a good kiss-someone possessing his mouth, his head tilted as Chris tasted all of him, fingers tracing his jaw. How thoughts flew from his mind as hands roved his sides, and Zach’s fingers itched to touch flesh-to grab and demand and explore.
Zach reached under the white t-shirt as Chris hummed into his mouth, the angle causing their bodies to fall and collide with a wall. Chris braced an arm as Zach bent into him-his neck exposed as he leaned backwards, sucking in breath as Chris mouthed his pulse, a tongue tracing to collarbone.
A feverish moment and Chris impatiently pressed him into the wall, changing the angle entirely, and clacked their belt buckles together. The sound was so jarring that Zach snapped out him, despite still parting his legs-despite still wanting the close proximity.
.
“We can’t-“ Zach licked his lower lip. “We shouldn’t do this.”
Zach pressed a hand against Chris’ chest, his fingers happily feeling the mucles there. But Chris stopped, panting for breath, eyes blown in mirrored desire.
But after a moment of clearing his head, Chris raised his hands in surrender and backed up. “You’re right-you’re right. We shouldn’t.”
Zach looked at their feet, the toes of their shoes touching. He felt his body sway as he looked up, catching that heart-stopping blue gaze upon him.
Zach took a deep breath, his brain struggling to remember exactly why this was a bad idea. His eyes scanned those lips-soft and pliant moments before-and then saw as Chris nervously darted a tongue out, licking a chapped edge.
Goddamn, Zach loved that. He wondered how it would feel on his cock.
Zach threw himself forward, and Chris caught him as they tumbled to the bed, barely missing falling to the floor. Chris was on top, then Zach rolled him over, straddling hips as he pressed down, eager to feel if Chris was as desperate as he was.
He had forgotten, too, this power that sex had over people. Zach wanted this so bad that his legs ached for it, his stomach like a dropped weight from a very tall building. He wanted the rushing and pain and discomfort so bad that he wanted to rip clothes off, wanted to smack bodies together and hear Chris grunt and moan out loud, all because of him.
Zach’s hands went under the hem of the white t-shirt and he impatiently whined, “Off-off!”
Chris bit Zach’s impatient lips, then sat up to do just that-Zach’s hands quickly replacing cotton to caress the freckled and pale skin. It was soft and beautiful in its own way, the kind that showed bruises better.
Chris threw Zach’s shirt off, and they both made hurried work of their jeans-convoluted and twisting, with Zach getting mad with a pant leg as Chris rolled him over, regaining the top. He mercifully palmed Zach through his underwear to make it worth it, and Zach’s eyes rolled to the top of his head, keening softly at the sensation of a hand finally touching his dick. But Zach sucked on Chris’ bottom lip, waiting for the moment of distraction-Zach wanted to torture this man, see him writhe beneath him. See Chris come because he was riding him, hips lifting as they both pounded into each other.
But the moment Zach made his move Chris countered, and instead of Zach pinning Chris to the bed Zach was pinned to the floor, hands above his head as Chris moved between his legs, hovering above him.
It was sweet surrender really, their cocks brushing together as Zach spread his legs wide. He heard noises pour from his mouth, heard Chris’ name babbled from his lips as they jerked their hips against each other, rutting helplessly.
Chris reached down and pulled them both out, and fuck it was perfect-Chris’ hard dick fisted with Zach’s, painful friction that would never be enough, but still making Zach come. He moaned loud as he came hard, the back of his head smacking the ground as his body shook. Chris looked just as lost and ridiculous above him, and Zach pulled him down for a rough kiss on the mouth, swallowing his moans as he felt Chris come across his stomach.
It was so fucking dirty. But Zach felt lighter than he had in a long time, his heart beating rapidly at the dead weight on top of him, sweaty and gross-probably as sweaty and gross as Zach, who hadn’t even bothered to shower that morning.
Zach panted, needing to breathe. He pushed a groaning Chris off of him, looking down at his chest-hair clumped and sticky. But as Zach motioned to get up to clean himself, Chris put out a hand-his eyes half-lidded as a damp lock stuck to his forehead.
“Stay-talking. Later.”
That was good enough reason for Zach to fall backwards, pulling the motel comforter down on top of them as he drowsed next to the warm and slick body beside him.
***
The light had shifted in the room when Zach finally woke up. Beyond feeling drowsy and sticky and gross, now his back hurt like hell from sleeping on the floor, and his neck cracked when he twisted it.
But on the other hand, Chris was still lying beside him-also on the floor, also looking satisfyingly uncomfortable. As Zach shifted closer, Chris opened his eyes and mumbled an incoherent and gravelly, “Mornin’.”
Zach quirked a lip. “Close, but no cigar.”
Chris breathed deeply, blinking to look at the shadows on the wall. “Okay, afternoon then.”
They were naked and cold beneath the motel bedspread, and Chris’ goosebumps were rough against sensitive flesh.
Zach stretched out an arm to grab more of the comforter, and he tucked it in around them. “We should probably get up.”
“Yeah.” Chris closed his eyes, grabbing Zach’s hip. “In a minute.”
Zach couldn’t complain as they stayed like that, wrapped around each other, undignified adults doing forbidden things.
He recalled that the last time he had slept during the day was, well-back when he had been depressed. And even earlier, way before Zoe and Anton had been born.
”Dad, trust the Universe for once.”
Zach’s eyes flew open, meeting the lazy gaze of sky blue.
Zoe was right-too right. He had begged the Universe with good intentions, but the Universe had the sadistic humor to deliver it to him, regardless of that intent.
Chris frowned. “What’s that face for?”
Zach wrapped the blanket closer to him, sitting up. “We can’t do this.”
“Hate to break it to you, but we just did.”
Zach shook his head, leaning against the bed. “I mean, we can’t-“ Zach looked around for his clothes, then threw the blanket off. “You don’t understand.”
As Zach gathered his things, Chris aimed him with a skeptical stare. “What do you mean?”
Zach stood up, naked-spine cracking and back sore. But those things didn’t quite matter as much with Chris Pine also naked and looking hurt, still sprawled across the floor.
Zach put on a pants leg, wondering where to start. “Magick.” He zipped himself up. “You’re here because I did a love spell when I was too young to know better, thinking you’d never happen and possibly exist.” He unfolded his t-shirt. “I’m really, really sorry-I didn’t think anything would come of it.”
When the shirt went over and fabric cleared from his vision, he saw Chris wickedly grinning up at him-not the upset or severe Chris he’d expected.
Zach balked. “You don’t get it.”
“Oh, I think I do.” Chris sat up, his legs still wide open and beckoning. “You’re saying you’re running away because I’m exactly what you want.”
Zach slipped on his shoes. “Don’t be an ass.”
“Then don’t be obtuse.” Chris tilted his head. “Zach, you’re saying I want you because of a spell.”
“I know it is.”
“Then you’re not giving me enough credit.”
Zach patted his pockets, searching. “It’s not a matter of willpower.”
“Then what is it?”
Zach huffed, looking at the floor near the dresser. “Okay-spell supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.”
Chris looked up, taking a moment before his fingertips seemed to tick off the letters. “S-u-p-e-r-c-a-l-i-f- “
“I rest my case.”
“What, because I can spell?”
“It’s a part of what I asked for.”
“Then you’re in luck.” Chris’ eyes twinkled. “That word may have won me the fourth grade spelling bee championship.”
“Where are my keys?”
“Come on-this magic stuff is much more than just manipulating, isn’t it? Didn’t you say something about the power of intent?”
A naked arm crossed into Zach’s vision. He looked up to see Chris standing in front of him, dangling his car keys as he wore only a wan smile.
Zach had to remember to breathe. “Yeah, my intent. You didn’t have any choice.”
“Wrong, Zach.” Chris swallowed. “I chose to come here. Don’t I get any credit for that?”
Zach passed him, reaching the door. “Not when I called you here.”
“What, some twenty years ago?”
“’Bye, Chris.”
“Wait a fucking minute, I’m not dres-“
But Zach closed the door behind him and bolted to his car-not running away, he told himself, but obeying the foreboding feeling in his gut.
As he started the engine and raced out of the parking lot, he thought, It’s for the best.
***
Zach pulled into the long driveway, the digital clock on the dash saying 4:34. It was almost a shameful number-not doubt Joey, and perhaps Zoe, would know what he’d been up to. He still walked stiffly and a bit funny, and if either of them noticed-well, Zach had no idea what to say.
The feelings still drowned his chest, and he didn’t want to label them. Eric had been with him-some of the best years of his life-because of a love spell. The dilemma was that why would he ever choose to trap Chris into the same thing? That wasn’t fair-and certainly not love. Not love given under someone's free will.
He shoved open the car door, not anxious to go back inside. Joey was probably still mad at him-maybe more so-and Zach didn’t want to argue right now. What he wanted most was a shower and to lie in his bed, wondering whether he actually did need a lawyer, or if he could just blissfully fall asleep.
He entered through the backway, closing the screendoor slowly before he ambled inside, hoping to catch no one’s notice.
But instead Joey leaned against a kitchen counter, watching him.
Zach sighed. “Joe, whatever you’ve got to say, can it wait-“
But Joey met him halfway, an arm encircling for a wordless embrace.
It was almost too much-in any other time of their lives Zach would’ve fallen to Joey just like this, telling him about what had just happened and how he felt. He placed his chin on a shoulder, wondering if he still could-closing his eyes as Joey rubbed a circle into his lower back.
Maybe he could still have some semblance of his old life before it all went to hell. Maybe it wasn't over yet.
But when he turned his head he felt a long, wet stripe of the tongue paint his cheek, the arms grasping him tight.
“I like brothers,” Joey whispered, the cold breath skating across Zach's ear.
The voice was foreign, the body smelling too much of alcohol and dirt-things he would never associate with his brother.
Zach jerked away, and fists gripped his shoulders tightly. Coal-darkened eyes burrowed into his with a maniacal and dangerous stare.
Zach tried to calm his breathing. “You’re not Joe.”
“Nope,” Joey said, then grinned. “But his body will suffice.”
Zach shoved him in the chest, then smacked back with an elbow to break the grip. Joey coughed and fell into the stove, holding his chest as he sputtered a laugh.
“You pansy bitch.”
“I’m not the one stealing somebody’s body right now,” Zach said, putting himself behind the dining room table. “Talk about being somebody’s bitch.”
Joey growled, an exaggerated sneer of cartoon villains stretching his face. If it weren’t for the fact his brother was possessed, Zach would probably have laughed.
Joey fell against the opposite side of the table, his lips pale and taunting. “Wanna fuck here? You’re ready-I can smell it on you.”
Zach shoved the table with all his might, punching Joey in the solar plexus and making him unsteady. While Zach didn’t want to maim his brother, he grabbed a broom and smacked Joey down to the ground-a foot on his chest as the body was caught off-guard.
Zach pressed down with his shoe, with Joey’s arms flailing as Zach aimed the broom handle at his throat. “Get the fuck out of my brother.”
“No way.”
Zach pressed harder, the boot precariously close to cracking ribs. “If you’re Karl, I swear to Gods-“
“Your brother was like a ragdoll,” Joey wheezed, aiming Zach with a wicked grin. “I could throw him the fuck around, and he never said nothin’.”
Zach pressed harder, but then remembered who he was hurting and eased off.
Joey laughed. “You won’t kill me.”
Zach pressed again, but it was the truth. He swallowed the fear of how far they might have to play this-visions of blood and cracked bones playing in his head-while trying to remember everything he knew about possessions.
Joey gave him a coy glance. “If you suck me off, I’ll think of leaving.”
Zach swiped the broom end, hitting Joey in the face with straw. He kicked a hip as Joey rubbed his eyes, smacking the top of his head against a table leg as Zach ran to the spell parlor, wondering if the lock still worked.
There was a fervent moment where Zach hoped Zoe and Anton were outside, or that Joey hadn’t noticed their existence in the house. If Zach could lure Joey to the parlor, it could start and end there, with nobody else involved.
Except when Zach skidded past the threshold he saw Zoe and Anton cowering under the table, clutching a shaking Noah between them, all guarded within a heavy ring of consecrated sea salt.
“Dad!” Zoe yelled, yet clutched Anton and Noah closer.
Zach shook his head in panicked silence-then made the split-second decision to run back out and lock the door.
“Dad!”
Zach turned around and saw that Joey had staggered upright again-and he was laughing. Hell, who knew devils laughed so often?
“That was stupid, Zach.”
Zach had to agree-all the supplies in the house were locked behind him. And worse, now Zoe and Anton couldn’t get out if something happened to him.
But Zach stood his ground, his mind trying to recall all the shielding spells he had used in school. He imagined the wall of white light between him and Joey, powerful enough to keep the evil out.
But Joey shook his head. “You fucking kidding me?” Then he barreled towards him-smashing through the white wall and throwing Zach against the door.
Zach could hear Zoe pounding on the glass as Joey crawled over him, hands immediately going for his throat.
“You’re taller,” Joey hissed, teeth mere inches from Zach’s face. “Might wanna be you for a while.”
Zach felt a crowding of the brain, just as breath started to become scarce. Panic and adrenaline flew through his bloodstream, his legs kicking behind Joey as the devil’s hands pressed down, unconcerned.
The room was tunneling-Zoe’s voice becoming dimmer-when he heard a snarl above him.
It sounded like a cat fight, the hissing loud and shrill. Zach tried to blink and focus his eyes, but all he saw was a dark whirl-Joey staggering backwards due the object near his face.
When Joey fell against a counter and changed position, Zach saw that Joey was pushing against it-and that the object had long claws digging into Joey’s face and neck
Zach gasped as he realized who it was. “Siouxsie.”
Zach gained his legs back under him, looking around for a heavy object to help Siouxsie Sioux finish the job. He crawled to the cabinet of pots and pans, ripping open the door, only to hear a loud yowl-and a sickening thump and crack of a body against the wall.
Zach swallowed the bile in his throat, standing up with an iron pan-his mouth dropping in horror as he saw Siouxsie Sioux on the ground, her body bent in an odd position.
That fucking demon cat-but poor Siouxsie Sioux. Poor, poor Siouxsie.
Zach held the pan near his chest, strengthening his resolve against the grinning Joey across from him, separated by nothing but empty linoleum floor. Joey would never have done that to a cat, no matter the pain he was in. It only made the person across from him that more horrifying-and nothing like his brother.
Joey lept at him, and Zach swung and aimed for an arm. And while he whacked and made contact, it made absolutely no difference-Joey still going for his throat, causing the pan to drop on their feet.
Zach yelped in pain, causing Joey to grin as he pinned Zach against the counter, the edge digging into his lower back. Air was constricted again, and Zach could’ve laughed-there they were again, and this time Zach was really fucking screwed.
Until a shoe hit Joey in the head.
The pressure eased off his throat, and Zach fell to the ground as he heaved shallow breaths, blacking in and out.
“What the hell are you doing?”
Zach registered the voice, his eyelids fluttering as he fought for consciousness to see what was happening to Chris-his heart catching in his throat at what might happen to Chris.
Joey seemed to find Chris amusing. “Well-never fucking mind. You’re prettier.”
There was scuffling as Joey rushed past him, and Zach fell on his back to see where he went. His blurred vision focused to see Chris backed against the dining table, pointing his gun.
Joey kept rushing, and Zach prayed to the Gods that Chris wouldn’t actually shoot.
“Stop, stop it right there-“
But when Joey moved with superhuman strength and kicked the gun out of his hands, Chris seemed to get a clue.
Chris stared dumbfounded, the impetus pushing him backwards. “The fuck-“
“What you gonna do about your boyfriend now?” Joey stalked forward, confident in his prey. “Think he’ll fuck you when I’ve got ya?”
Joey made a grab for Chris’ arm, but instead Chris flinched backward and balled his fist.
“Who are you?” Chris spat out, his posture taut and ready to punch.
Joey quirked a lip, coy and wicked, before answering lowly, “Why, I think you’ve been looking for me.”
Chris tripped over a chair, gawking. “Fuck me.”
“With pleasure.” And with that Joey raced forward-his feet too quick to avoid slamming into the raised chair in Chris’ hands, the wooden legs stabbing a shoulder and causing Joey to snarl in pain.
It gave Chris a moment to move towards Zach.
“Hey-“
Zach shook his head, looking at Joey regaining strength behind them. As Chris followed Zach’s gaze he positioned himself in front of him, a hand grabbing Zach’s as Chris became a barrier.
The spirit was pissed now. Blood was caked and gushing from cuts along his face and arms, yet muscles strained so tensely that Zach worried they might burst from skin.
Joey bared his teeth. “Fuck you both-and when I’m done, I’m fucking ripping apart those stupid children.”
Just as Joey flashed forward, a thought passed through Zach’s mind. He squeezed Chris’ hand and yelled out, “Badge!”
And to Chris’ credit, he quickly remembered that conversation. He whipped out the gold star from his breast pocket, his talisman, and the metal caught the light. He held it out right in front of them, and glinted light became a white arrow in the darkness of Karl’s roaring spirit.
A grotesque face burst from Joey’s head into a swarm of black dust. Just as Joey’s body dropped to the kitchen floor, a dark flash winked and snapped out of existence. But the dust remained as it fell heavy-the body a magnet as all of it reabsorbed and burrowed into the lifeless form below.
Zach crawled forward, leaning over the feverish body as the last of dust disappeared in the whites of Joey’s eyes.
“Joe?” He poked. “Joey?”
Zach touched the sweat-sheened skin and felt Joey’s forehead, clammy and pale. Rolling Joey onto his back Zach could see his lips were moving, murmuring incomprehensibly, his body trembling and restless.
Zach looked up at Chris, who was still staring with wide-eyed disbelief at Joey. His focus was only broken when Zoe rattled the door and called out again.
“Dad?”
Chris turned and twisted the doorknob. He looked at the pinhole in the handle with confusion, before glancing back at Zach.
Zach shook his head. “Use a bobby pin from the drawer.”
“Don’t worry Zoe,” Chris said, fumbling through a kitchen drawer. “We’ll break you out of there.”
“Chris?”
Zach turned back to Joey, letting Chris reassure Zoe and Anton in the background as he analyzed his brother.
It wasn’t good.
Not only did Zach clearly see the dust get soaked back into the body, but it also seemed to grip Joey more fiercely. Whatever that flash was, it was if it took consciousness with it, the dust an anchor for whatever evil touched his brother. While it left no visible mark or stain, Zach felt the negative vibes like an itch beneath the skin.
Zach got to his knees, feeling sore, but bent over the body.
“Joey,” he whispered, “Come back. Come back to us.” He lightly slapped a cheek. “Fight him off. Kick him out of your life for good.”
“Is he going to be okay?”
Zach looked up, meeting Chris’ concerned gaze. There was a moment when a part of him wanted to crumble to the worry-let Chris know that this was freaking him out, even as a witch. But instead he swallowed it and looked back down with resolve.
“He’s still possessed.”
He heard Chris sharply inhale. “Shouldn’t we take him to a hospital?”
Zach shook his head. “He’d be on a machine forever and we’d never save him. Nobody would know what to do, except us.”
Except Zach had no clear idea either.
Zach felt Zoe at his side, and when she leaned into him, he felt her trembling. “Dad, Siouxsie is dead.”
Zach swallowed, the emotions of seeing it happen hitting him hard again. Zach held out his arm for Zoe to fall into, but she shook her head, staring with fear down at Joey.
“He killed Siouxsie Sioux, didn’t he?” Her anxious eyes met his. “He killed a cat.”
Chris looked at confusion at the lot of them, but Anton burrowed under Zach’s arm, clearly understanding the danger.
Chris shook his head. “I don’t-?”
Zach closed his eyes a moment, wondering how he could explain it. That while they weren’t ancient Egyptians, there was a certain level of awareness and respect. That cats were considered to have one foot in this world and one foot in the next, connected to the fairies-that they were a different level of spirit on the Earth, definitely set apart from Noah still cowering in the spell parlor.
To kill a cat was to have no respect for magick at all-for everything that him and Joey and their enture family believed in.
“It’s bad,” Zach admitted. And when he opened up his arm again Zoe fell into it, hugging him close.
Anton tilted his face. “Dad, shouldn't we put Uncle Joey to bed?
Anton’s eyes were red and on the verge of tears again, and Zach’s heart clenched.
“Uncle Joey is going to be okay, I promise.” He kissed Anton’s forehead. “Both of you were so brave-I’m proud of you.”
“When you left, Uncle Joey went upstairs,” Zoe started. “We hung out watching TV, and-“ she glanced in Chris’ direction. “Well, we just watched stuff.”
“When did things turn weird?”
Zoe gripped Zach’s shirt. “Lunchtime, maybe.”
Zach felt the guilt overwhelm him. He should have been here protecting them and watching out for Joey. Not making love-having sex-with the guy who was going to arrest him.
But Chris reached out a hand and touched Zoe’s shoulder. “That must have been really scary.”
Zoe turned to him, and Zach could read the nod without her doing it.
She bit her lip. “He started walking around the house, muttering-it’s like he didn’t even notice us. He was pulling on his hair and singing this one song.”
Zach winced, having an idea of which one.
Zoe looked to Zach, leaning over to squeeze Anton’s arm. “When he started to cuss and yell, I took Anton into the spell parlor.”
Zach couldn’t help but hate himself in that moment. But he leaned forward and touched their foreheads together. “You did good, Zo.” He kissed her temple, wondering if they should have escape routes like fire plans-the next time there’s soul possession, Zoe and Anton to run far, far away.
But he heard Chris hum in agreement. “You did a good thing by keeping your brother safe.”
Zoe turned her head against Zach’s shoulder and feigned a small smile. “Thank you.”
Chris looked at all them with a wan smile himself, and then glanced down at Joey. “Is there anything I can do?”
Zach and Zoe shared a glance, before Zach looked at Chris.
“We need to move Joe into the parlor.”
Part Five