PHOCT R3: 3

Dice didn’t struggle as the guards threw her in the cell. Releasing the song had released a little of the tension in her head, but only a little.

Arion. Arion. That was why she was so angry all the time. She’d loved him with every inch of her soul, and he’d—he’d—

She sat up, rubbing her temples to banish the image of Arion kissing someone else. She had bigger problems to deal with right now. Like Saturday. And her powers. And… and the people she’d hurt.

She looked over at them. Both were unconscious with blood smeared on the sides of the heads. But they were still breathing, and their eyes beneath their lids like they were asleep. Dice hadn’t—hurt them, the way she had Finley, but they weren’t in the best shape either. She had to try and help them.

And if she was selfish about it, they looked like badasses. They would probably know a few tricks to take Saturday down.

Okay. Okay. So she could hurt people with her songs, and she could make them sleep, and she’d calmed a demon. She had power, and maybe she didn’t know how it worked, but it was still hers. Somebody’d once told her she was stubborn as the day was long. She refused to think about who the somebody was, but he’d been right. It was her power. They were her songs.

She rubbed her throat, which ached from letting out the last song, and studied the man and woman. She wanted to help them. Was there a song that said that?

The song came, almost without bidding: “Your name is sung and tattooed now on my heart—here I will carry, carry, carry you—” And it soothed her throat; it was like drinking hot cocoa when she had a sore throat. The man and woman stirred. Slowly, as Dice kept singing, both of them opened their eyes and sat up.

“Somebody get the number of that truck,” the woman mumbled, pushing her fingers through her hair.

The man said nothing, his hands moving over his wrists and the knives sheathed at his waist. Then he looked to her.

“What?” said the woman, her eyes narrowing. Dice looked away, recognizing too much of her expression.

“I was just going to ask if you were okay,” said the man, his voice low and his eyes flat. Dice recognized too much of that, too—it almost stirred phantom anger in her heart. How often had Arion talked to her like that? You’re the one starting this, Dice. Just let it go. It didn’t mean anything.

“And I’m fine. Same thing happened to me happened to you. So drop it.” She got to her feet and looked at Dice like meat on a chopping block. What had Dice rescued? “So you’ve got some kind of song powers.”

“Emphasis on the ‘some kind,’” said Dice quietly, rubbing her arms. She wasn’t sure how much to admit, though. It was her only edge over these two. Probably better to play it close to the vest.

“Minos?” Dice looked at her blankly. The woman shook her head. “Doesn’t matter. I’m AJ. This is Drac. And it seems that we might have a mutual interest.” She nodded at the cell door, which looked like it was made of titanium or something.

Dice bit her lip. She could sort of control it now—maybe. They didn’t need to know she wasn’t sure how it worked. “…I’m Dice. And yeah. We do. Do you have some ideas?”

AJ just started to pace. “Well, I can get us out of here no problem. They call that a lock?” Despite the confidence in her voice, there was something—manic about the way she moved, the rhythm of her speech. Like she was trying to speak and move too quickly for anyone to question her. “And there’s no doubt that little talent of yours will be useful. It’d be nice to actually have a distance weapon to work with for once…” She trailed off, her eyes narrowing. She drummed her fingers incessantly against her leg.

Dice looked to the man, wondering if he was going to contribute, but he just sat there, glaring at the far wall.

“We need to fuck this shit up,” said AJ at last. Though she nodded firmly, her eyes kept flicking around the room, like she didn’t want anyone to study them. “Break some shit down. Show this guy we don’t like being fucked with.” She pulled off her backpack and started digging in it. “Pretty sure I’ve still got some C4 in here somewhere…”

“Are you insane?” said Drac, lifting his head.

AJ froze, her eyes narrowed. Dice scooted further into the corner, frightened even as she tried not to wonder how many times she’d worn that exact same look. “Excuse me?” And that tone. Give him a chance to shut up so you can tell yourself later that the fight was his fault.

“We’re dealing with gods, AJ,” said Drac, his voice heavy with disgust. “It’s not like we’re going to scare them.”

“Not with that attitude.” AJ dropped her backpack, putting one hand on her hip. “I don’t hear you coming up with any better suggestions, Thane.”

Drac scowled at her. “Why should I? You won’t listen to them anyway.” He turned his back to her, resting his arm on his knees. “I can do the dirty work, but at the end of the day, I’m not anyone important. Just another chess piece you can push around. I’m sick of it.”

AJ didn’t hesitate; Dice watched with sick fascination, wondering if this was what her fights with Arion had looked like to the rest of the band. “Have I ever called us anything but partners, Thane? I never made you any goddamn promises! You know how this works—how this has to work. We don’t—we can’t—” She turned away, dropping her head back to look at the ceiling.

Dice bit her lip, thoughts of Arion mixing with the scene before her. Her own guilt hung around her now like weights, pulling her down, and her heart beat harder. She was standing there, waiting for Arion to reach out for her, waiting for him to give her more ammunition. Waiting for a chance to hurt him as much as she hurt.

Dice wanted to reach back to that past self and shake her, tell her what a fool she was. Life didn’t last forever. There wouldn’t always be a chance to kiss and make up.

Regret welled up inside her as strong and powerful as her fear of the empusae; she wanted nothing more than to erase the past. Song poured from her lips; she wouldn’t have stopped it even if she wanted to. “Jonathan, anything and anyone that you have done has gotta be all right with me—”

***

AJ knew she was being manipulated the moment Dice started singing, but that didn’t change anything. It was like being knocked off your feet by a wave and carried out to sea by the undertow. Struggling only made you weaker.

Her eyes met Drac’s, and she saw the same feeling: betrayal and confusion… and regret. And maybe the wish that trusting someone was as easy as popping a switchblade.

AJ pulled away from his gaze, trying to fight it, but the effort left her trembling and weak. She still felt disoriented from Dice’s first use of her powers, and underneath that was the stress of dealing with gods and her brother and dying in the first place—

She couldn’t keep fighting forever. Sooner or later she’d drown.

Or she could let someone pull her out.

“All right!” she shouted, her voice clashing with the sweet notes of Dice’s voice. Dice stopped singing at once, blinking like a woman coming out of a trance. “Turn around.” Dice blinked. “Turn around.”

She obeyed right away, which was good because AJ’s knees gave out after that, her body overwhelmed by the emotion Dice’s song had left within her. She stuck out her hand, still bare from the aborted fight. Drac stared at her, his eyes wary. But behind all that was the look he used to only wear when talking about his angel. He pressed his palm to AJ’s.

Using her powers was always arresting, like running full-speed into a brick wall made of thoughts. But it was also private. The other person got some of her thoughts, but she could never feel that part. This was… like a conversation, only it was made of memories and feelings that came together to form more than words.

The way he never cut her off when she complained. The way she knew she could always count on him to have her back, even when she didn’t have his. The way he never pushed, even when he should have. I’m not like everyone else. You can trust me.

If they were speaking out loud, AJ would have argued—she couldn’t help it, any more than she could help her freckles or her swearing. But she couldn’t. It was like when he had used his powers on her as she lay dying: he was pulling something out of her from deep inside, something that had never seen sunlight. The way AJ’s mother braided her hair. How Jiry wrinkled his nose and stamped his foot when AJ pulled his tail. And the way they’d looked at her when the stress started getting to her, when she needed someone to support her and got nothing. I cut everyone else off for a reason. I can't deal with being vulnerable like that again.

She saw pictures of Drac’s parents lying on the ground, and around that all an empty apartment that still smelled faintly of the vanilla candles his angel liked to burn. A long string of years spent with no one but the dying. Drac said, I’m scared, too.

The picture came to her, unbidden: Drac leaning over her, his eyes holding knowledge that no one possessed. You will find someone who understands you.

Drac pulled back, his eyes widening. “…I didn’t know you remembered that.”

AJ turned her shoulder to him, chewing on the inside of her cheek. “Yeah… well… I didn’t think it’d be you.” She looked back to him; she couldn’t help it. “…It’s not a bad thing, though. I should have figured that out sooner.”

Drac just nodded, but his relief was obvious.

AJ glanced at Dice, who was still sitting with her back turned. “We’ll… we’ll talk about it more later. Right now, we’re still stuck here.” Drac nodded. AJ studied his face, looking for any hint of resentment, but it wasn’t there. She wasn’t upset either. All she felt was liberation.

She got to her feet. Usually she felt stupid when she was forced to admit she was wrong. But without the tension between them to distract her—

She rubbed her forehead. “C4? You’re right. That is stupid. Jeeze. I was fucked up.” She looked at her backpack, and something clicked in her head. “Yeah. That’s better.”

Dice turned. “Can I… come with you? I need to rescue Leuce. That woman in the room. And I know stuff about Saturday. I could help."

AJ drummed her fingers on her thighs. "What do you know, exactly?"

"He likes making deals. And pretty women."

A slow smirk spread across AJ's face. The magic was back. "Well, why didn't you say so in the first place?"