Notorious Nix: Nix Trilogy, #2

Chapter 1

NIX REFUSED TO SURRENDER the birthday hat. Mother kept throwing her a side-eye glance and raised eyebrow, but Callie’s Tenth Birthday Extravaganza was only just getting into full swing. Callie liked the pink cardboard hat with its multicolored tassels and glittered edges. It wasn’t in great shape coming into their third evening of non-stop fun, but Callie was wearing the hat and Nix was wearing Callie, so the hat stayed.

Nix tugged on Mother’s sleeve as they approached the line for the carousel.

I wanna ride the ponies, Nix informed her in Callie’s sugary voice. She looked at the line of people, then back at Mother. Nix tilted her head expectantly. Right now. Mother pursed her lips, glanced at the line, then back at her daughter. It is my birthday, Nix said.

Mother sighed, nodded, and walked her to the front of the line.

Excuse me, ma’am, said a teenage boy in a red uniform, but you’re gonna have to wait your turn, you can’t just—

Mother handed the boy a hundred-dollar bill. He paused but silently opened the gate. In some ways, money was more efficient than violence. Less messy, too, though not nearly as entertaining. Nix ran through, pushing a toddler out of the way and claiming the prettiest white horse for Callie.

Mother waved from the fence, her lips set in a flat red line. Even from this distance it looked like she’d applied her makeup with a shotgun this morning.

The air was thick with the scents of caramel popcorn, candy floss and sweaty bodies. Children swarmed the rides, shouting and laughing. The night air was warm against her bare arms, warmer still with all the bright, colorful lights and the tight crowds shuffling past. Nix shoved Callie’s feet into the stirrups as the music started.

The horse jerked, and Nix held on tight so Callie wouldn’t slide off. Then it was just the two of them, sharing this moment, enjoying the easy companionship. The horses jumped and galloped and raced each other, never gaining but never falling behind.

The crowd blurred into streaks of light and color, lilting carnival music swirling around them. Callie’s heart raced with her horse. Nix let the elation flow through every cell of Callie’s body, leaning into the spin with a wide grin and open arms.

I wanna stay here forever, Callie whispered.

Nix’s smile faltered.

What’s wrong? Callie asked.

Nothing, kid, Nix lied. Don’t worry about it. She flexed Callie’s fingers, working out the stiffness. Though the weather was lovely and the lights almost too warm, Nix felt a chill. They’d had fun together. But Nix knew it couldn’t last forever. Callie would get along fine without Nix. She was a smart kid, and Mother knew her place—she’d be there to take care of Callie when Nix couldn’t be. She’d stolen them more than enough money to ensure Callie’s financial wellbeing for years to come. And hey, maybe Nix could stick around for a while in Mother’s skin, at least until it started to rot and fall off. But that was just drawing things out. She still couldn’t stay for long, and Mother wasn’t exactly an ideal host. Nix had to go, and that was the way it had to be.

Where’s Mom?

Nix glanced out at the crowd. Mother wasn’t by the fence anymore.

The carousel circled around once, twice, three times. She couldn’t pick Mother out of the swaths of humans.

The horses slowed, stopped. The playful music dwindled to a few lingering notes. Toddlers and their parents dismounted as older children ran to meet their minders at the gate, talking and smiling and jostling into each other.

Nix slid Callie off her white stallion, straightening her pretty pink dress and party hat.

Mother was nowhere to be seen.

Unease shot though Callie’s mind, churning the birthday cake in her stomach as the realization set in that she was lost and didn’t know where her mother was, didn’t know any of these strangers in this huge park, didn’t know how to get home. But at least she wasn’t alone, not when Nix was with her.

It’s okay, Nix said as she scanned the crowd. I’ll find her. Confusion held her still for a long moment as the carousel cleared of riders and the lanky teen waved her out the gate.

She wandered into the crowd. The merry-go-round started up again.

It was silly—embarrassing, really—that it caught Nix by surprise. Mother had run off. Of course she had. Couldn’t take your eyes off them for one goddamn minute without them making a break for it. Nix thought she and Mother were well past this point in their relationship, maybe even closing in on Stockholm levels of obedience, but apparently Nix had been too optimistic. That had always been a flaw of hers.

Where’d she go? Callie asked, nervousness shaking her whisper and moistening her palms. Do you see her?

Shh, Nix soothed. She’s just playing a game. Hide and seek.

Callie’s anxiety eased. It wasn’t a lie. Mother was clearly hiding, and Nix would have to seek her out and punish her until she learned to behave again. Nix lifted Callie’s chin in a look of defiance, scanning left to right.

The lights from the carousel spun across the ground in front of them. To the left sat a long row of carnival games bustling with activity. In the distance, closer to the parking lot and the water, Nix could see the bright circle of light from the Ferris wheel. Mother couldn’t have gotten far.

Nix reached into the pocket of Callie’s dress, fingers sweeping over the car keys. Their trust didn’t extend that far. There was a bus stop nearby. That could be a problem.

Another kid pushed past her with a red balloon, and Nix almost lost her footing. She scowled. Cute as Callie was, she was too short to see past the crowd. Nix needed to get to higher ground. A piece of cotton candy squished under her foot, sticking to Callie’s shoe. Nix kicked at the trampled grass to get it off. Ahead was Fairy Tale Village, positioned on a slight hill, not too busy. Nix moved toward it as a long, long leg blocked her view.

Watch your step, watch your step, a giant sang down at her, his face concealed by a grinning mask. His long, striped legs walked right over her.

Step right up, test your luck, a woman’s husky voice rang out over the crowd. Four for the price of three—kids play free!

Free ice cream cone with every purchase! Hey kid, the man in the cotton candy booth shouted to her, laughing raucously, tell your folks—it’s a deal ya can’t beat!

Nix edged away. She pushed through streams of grownups and baby carriages, beginning to regret all the company she’d been enjoying only moments earlier. A stroller ran over Callie’s foot. Nix jerked backward, startled, then pushed the stroller over in a fit of rage and ran the other way. Voices chorused behind her, loud and swirling and angry.

She elbowed through the crowds, emerging in front of the gently sloping hill behind Fairy Tale Village. It wasn’t far, but even short walks took longer with small legs.

Nix huffed, smoothing down the loose strands of Callie’s flaxen hair, and started up the hill. The path was dark and empty here, probably for maintenance and staff. Dirt dusted Callie’s white-patent shoes. No light illuminated their way, but Nix didn’t mind and Callie had never been afraid of the dark.

The sounds of the crowd grew muffled as Nix put space between them, curving past a crop of trees and deeper into the dark woods of Fairy Tale Village. The loud hoot of an owl echoed above them and Callie startled at the proximity of the noise. Ahead, flashing lights beckoned.

A crunching noise seeped out from the trees. Nix stilled, looking into the woods, Callie’s eyes still adjusting to the darkness. The owl called again. Callie shivered.

Little princess, a low voice slithered out of the darkness. Don’t be afraid, I have something to show you. Something special.

A shape emerged from the woods, tall and wide, much bigger than Callie.

Nix stood her ground in spite of Callie’s instincts telling her to run far away and into the safety of her mother’s arms. The creature slithered out of the trees, its bulk cracking branches as it moved. Its feet were disproportionately long, its nose a bulbous red in the moonlight. It grinned, teeth brown and crooked, panting as it moved, chest heaving, every labored intake of breath followed by the scent of stale cigarettes and rot.

The creature moved closer, close enough Nix could see its face clearly, painted white and red with thick black eyebrows. One of her least favorite creatures of all: a clown.

It leered at her. You wanna see a special trick, little princess?

Callie shivered again but was silent.

He snickered, pulling at the velcro holding his clown pants up. Put your hand in here, he whispered encouragingly, moving closer, closer, closer. He blocked out the moon. Nix gripped the car keys in the pocket of Callie’s dress until she felt the dull edges bite into her skin. His eyes shone, glazed and bright, blue irises surrounded by jaundiced white and rimmed in pink flesh that was untouched by the thick white putty lining the rest of his features. The putty sank deep into the wrinkles of his forehead. She could see the pale pink skin of his waist as he tugged the fabric down.

A flood of unease stirred in Callie’s stomach and it left a curdled, vinegary taste of fear in the back of her throat. Nix didn’t like it when it was Callie afraid. In the right skin, fear tasted like fine wine, aged and intoxicating. This was all wrong. Nix licked her lips. No, she didn’t care for it at all. She swallowed it down and gently whisked Callie off to the safety of her own mind, trapping her out of her physical perceptions and letting her fall into the soft embrace of her dreams.

Callie’s fear dissipated, replaced with Nix’s own disgust and simmering rage. Mother’s little game had been an irritation, but Fuckles the Clown here was steadily pushing Nix’s patience to a breaking point. Nix glared at the clown, disdain dominating Callie’s expression, twisting her upper lip like a hook was caught in it. His white makeup melted gray down his temples with sweat.

Despite his weight, it took her less than a second to calculate the location of his most vulnerable artery and the force she’d need to sever it.

Nix slid the longest key into his upper thigh so smoothly, so quickly, the clown didn’t even react at first. In unskilled hands, the sliver of metal may have been useless. But this wasn’t Nix’s first carnival. She jerked the key free of his flesh with a strength greater than any Callie alone could possess.

Callie’s fingers were suddenly doused in wet warmth as blood began to pour out of the clown like a thick river of strawberry punch. A rush of endorphins followed swiftly for Nix, leaving her head light and airy as a smile tugged at her lips.

He stared into Callie’s eyes, his mouth gaping and rounded with surprise.

Nix stared back at him.

The clown groaned, collapsing onto his knees with his pants halfway down his ass. Nix stepped out of the way as he fell forward, careful not to sully Callie’s dress. She leaned down and wiped the blood off on the clown’s frilly collar, pocketing Mother’s keys. He moaned and panted, twitching, fingers grabbing desperately at the earth as though it could save him.

Nix sneered. There was no salvation here.

When she straightened, everything was brighter. The trees were clear and the clown bleeding out at her feet seemed to emit a surreal glow. It was like the sun was coming out from behind the clouds even though it was night. Nix squinted. Those lovely endorphins were her first explanation, but the light grew stronger and stronger. Something was wrong.

The bright light engulfed everything around her until it was all she could see.

And then she was falling.

Chapter 2

NIX LOOKED UP AS THE last of the brightness faded, residual spots of light obscuring Callie’s vision. It wasn’t sunlight. Oh no. Nix recognized it a moment after it left, like an old friend she’d been trying to avoid, knocking on the door bearing a particularly awful fruitcake. This was a light of inconvenience, which Nix was, regrettably, all too familiar with.

It had been a boy named Rat the last time—or maybe that had been his nickname, Nix never bothered to find out. Somehow, this little creep had managed to track her down, knew her name, knew her proclivities, and said, Hey, I want a part of this. Nix could tell from the moment she’d laid her borrowed eyes on the boy he was a lost cause. There were a lot of them like that, those lost causes. Always popped up out of the woodwork like insects, screaming Pick me, pick me! It was like they thought Nix was part of some special club they could just...join. Perplexing, really. So eager and willing, offering up their soul to the first demon they crossed paths with.

Rat was one of those types. He wasn’t as dingy as his handle implied—came from an affluent family somewhere in the north, wore the right kinds of bow ties to the right kinds of parties. Kid was probably bored, but a desperate kind of bored. The kind of boredom that comes with having everything and wanting for nothing. So when he summoned her to a quaint little bed and breakfast she’d frequented outside of Newport—his coat all buttoned up against the cold, a dangerous glint in his eye—Nix had seen his type before. She still hadn’t expected him to sit across from her and lay his soul bare. She’d intended to kill him even then, if only to avoid the hassle of human trivialities for one night and wait out the storm, get back to London. But it was like he knew. He sat down across from Nix’s host body—a young English maiden—and said, I know what you are. I brought you here to sell my soul. It was all very dramatic. Nix had tried to explain she wasn’t in the sales business, but he wouldn’t hear it. She humored him until he grew tiresome. He didn’t want wealth or health or happiness. He wanted to be like her. Immortal. As though it were that simple.

He’d cried, begged, said how he had to live forever, that it was the only way a man like him could ever truly accomplish something great. And that was it right there, wasn’t it? Greatness—what every human lusted after. Something in her clenched when he told her his story. She took mercy on the boy, slit his throat in one quick swipe across the table, and let him bleed out on the lace tablecloth. It was the closest to greatness the boy had ever come, sitting there in Nix’s presence. Nix knew it would be best for his greatest moment to be his last. She was sentimental that way—foolish, she knew. Plus, as an entity already initiated into the prized immortality club, Nix knew the value of vetting out new members. She didn’t want to endure that moron’s presence for the rest of her eternity. A soul willing offered was frequently a soul not worth bothering with.

She’d been summoned a few dozen times in her existence and almost every occasion involved some poor fool begging her to take his tainted scrap of soul. There really should be a no-call list she could sign up for. They always called during dinner, too. As Callie’s vision cleared, Nix assumed that’s what this was: an inconvenient caller. She’d already started composing her thanks-but-no-thanks speech in her head, trying to set aside her irritation at having been ripped away from tonight’s unexpected entertainment and undecided yet as to whether or not that irritation warranted a death sentence. But then she noticed the salt.

Candlelight sparkled off the circle around her. Fucking salt. Nix may have reconsidered this eternal damnation thing had she known a condiment would become the bane of her existence.

She was trapped. More likely by enemies than fans, which was actually a little more disappointing than she expected. But which enemies? The list was centuries long, and Nix and Callie had places to be. Mother still needed to be punished.

Two figures were lined up in front of her in a room with bare walls marred by soot. Candlelight flickered dimly. There was a window on one wall, boarded up, only darkness beyond it.

She’d been rudely abducted by squatters, it seemed. The two of them sat perfectly still. Both had masculine frames, but it was hard to tell any more about them from a glance. The room was dark, and Callie’s eyes were taking a while to adjust.

Callie stirred in her mind, but Nix soothed her back down. No need to get the kid involved.

The squatters weren’t actively trying to exorcise her, which was disconcerting in its own way, but not an unwelcome change of pace. They obviously wanted something from her, and as far as Nix was concerned, that meant these hooded figures needed her. She had leverage.

After glaring a moment at her hooded captors, Nix sighed and climbed into the chair waiting for her in the center of the circle, crossing Callie’s legs and waiting with frankly saintlike patience for an explanation. The bulkier figure’s head turned toward the smaller one, then back to Nix. The smaller one remained motionless. It was all very cloak and dagger, which Nix normally found at least slightly amusing, but not today. Plus, neither of them had complimented her on the birthday hat yet, and that was just rude.

You going to sit there staring, or can we move this along? I’ve got places to be, Nix added in Callie’s cotton-candy voice.

Bulky finally spoke, his voice rising from beneath his hood like a growl as he commanded, Silence, demon. Obey our commands, and we may kill you quickly.

Nix tilted Callie’s head to the side, the voice registering in her memory.

She laughed when it hit her. Whipsaw?

The bulky one coughed, looking to the slimmer one again—Elliot, most likely. Of course. She really should have seen this one coming. These hunters were an endless annoyance.

When she received no answer, Nix said, "You can drop the act, Pops. I know it’s you. Nice to see you boys again. Still mourning your dead lover?"

Daniel Whipsaw growled.

She looked to Elliot. And you, El, still fucking your sister, I trust?

Elliot sputtered.

Nix grinned. Thought so.

Enough. Danny dropped his hood, and then placed a hand on Elliot’s shoulder. After a moment, Elliot lowered his hood as well.

Danny was more haggard than she remembered, like he hadn’t slept or bathed in several days. Nix sniffed the air. Yep, hadn’t bathed. A little thinner, too. Elliot wasn’t much better. The boy was sporting a pair of large black sunglasses in the dark room, white gauze visible past the edges of the frames as it wrapped around his head. So his eyes hadn’t faired too well after all. The only one missing was Rachel.

Let me guess, Nix said, you boys are seeking revenge for your dead pals, is that right? She’d heard this tune a million times before. It was tediously predictable. Well, what are you waiting for?

The sphere may be gone, but we still have the exorcism. Ah yes, magic balls and exorcisms, as if Nix could forget.

"The one that kills demons, right? And...their hosts? You do realize how cute I look in this outfit?" Nix motioned to Callie, flicking her hair over her shoulder and tilting her head, smiling angelically—which Callie was especially good at. No way hunters were going to kill a little girl just to take Nix out, and even if they booted her, Nix would find her way back. This whole thing was an exercise in futility. Surely they realized that.

Elliot piped up from his seat without moving his head, What does that mean?

It’s in a child, Danny clarified with a scowl. He glared at her, but she sensed the hesitancy in his gaze.

The room’s only door slammed open, and Nix’s old friend rushed in—thankfully, without a fruitcake, although that didn’t improve the situation as much as it should have.

There you are, Nix greeted. I was getting worried.

I told you to stay in the hall, Danny scolded, voice low.

We don’t have time for this. It already knows who we are, Rachel said in a self-righteous frenzy of words and fluttering hand gestures that Nix hadn’t missed during their time apart. We know you’re involved in the demon conspiracy. You’re going to tell us everything you know.

A smirk tugged at Callie’s lips. I know a lot of things about a lot of things. Going to need to be a little more specific than that.

In truth, Nix was aware of about a dozen possible demon-related conspiracies that could be relevant to this conversation. That wasn’t her fault—demons liked to conspire, is all. It wasn’t like she was in on any of them, but she wasn’t going to lay them all out for these hunters to sift through, either. They hadn’t tried to exorcise her yet and no further pre-exorcism grandstanding seemed to be in progress. Logic concluded they needed her for something important, judging by the looks of self-disgust and shame on their faces. Nix had to be their last resort.

Rachel gave her a snide frown and said, Your asshole boyfriend is tailing us. We need to know everything he’s involved in.

Nix’s smirk faded. So he did survive. Cirrik is not my boyfriend.

Danny scowled. Stay on subject. Answer her questions.

Fine, Nix said. Let’s see, you want to know why he’s tailing you, I imagine?

We aren’t stupid. Rachel neglected to offer even a shred of evidence to support her position—and wasn’t that typical. Nix opened her mouth to disagree with that first point but didn’t bother. He knows we have the exorcism.

Cirrik was not her boyfriend. He was a loathsome little cockhopper and Nix would just as soon kill him as see him again. He was tiresomely easy to read, though. So he’ll track you down and kill every last hunter with even the slightest association to that exorcism. It’s not unreasonable, Nix said. Of course he’d be going after these hunters—they possessed an exorcism capable of ripping a demon from its host and killing both parties, the kind of death that really stuck, or allowing for sinister archdemons to trap said parties in a shiny globe-thing to amplify her powers and take over the world, depending on the hunters’ raison d’etre of the week. Nobody liked having a gun to their head. Well, there was that one guy in Texas, but that was a different story. Point being: the arms dealers had revealed themselves as a threat and threats had to be neutralized. That was just good business.

Who is he working with?

"Oh, you mean the comrades?" Nix said, the word shriveling from the derision on her lips.

Who are they and where can we find them?

Cirrik did have some comrades, the identities of which she could probably guess for a few players—Mars and Lindle were always happy to play the part of Cirrik’s entourage; probably Jin, too, and where Jin was, Trus followed. So that was a place to start, but by the way Cirrik had spoken about the situation to her during their very brief and painfully awkward conversation months back, it seemed like he might have quite a few more comrades in this endeavor. Unless he was exaggerating. Nix had assumed that to be the case initially, but he’d been right about the whole world-ending, real-death thing and it was honestly a little weird to even mentally admit Cirrik had been right about anything.

She had no idea how far this went, who