Black London 05 - Soul Trade

energy writhed, turning colors under her grasp. She imaginedpoor Jeremy Crotherton, just looking for his friend, getting a whack on the head and a horrific end as worm food in that awful cellar. Add the indignity of having Morwenna Morgenstern suck out his soul, and it was a crap day all around.
    “And you didn’t listen because he came across as a crazy fuck,” Jack said. “Blame isn’t needed at this late stage, Pete. A plan would be nice, though.”
    Petefound a blanket for herself and wrapped up in it, inhaling the musty odor of mothballs and damp. “You want me to plan a full frontal assault on a bunch of mages who’ve already got us beat? I can do it, but it’s not going to end any way except with us dead.”
    “Doesn’t matter,” Margaret muttered. In the low light, Pete saw that dirt streaked on her face and her T-shirt was torn, things she’d missedin the frantic escape. “We’re dead anyway.”
    “Luv, don’t talk that way,” Pete sighed. “Jack and I are going to find a way to get you out of here.”
    “And go where?” Margaret whispered. Pete saw a shadow flick in front of the windows, and away. A shiver ran through Margaret, though the cottage was almost stuffy as the fire blazed. “My parents are out there. All the people are out there. We’re thelast normal ones. Where’m I supposed to go?”
    “She’s got a point,” Jack muttered. “We’re either target practice for the Prommies or worm food. I don’t exactly relish either choice.”
    “You want a plan, you could try being the least bit helpful,” Pete snapped. “I’m not the one who’s been running with mages his entire life. What happens if Morwenna gets hold of the soul cage she made?”
    Jack sighed,but he played along. “Likely she’s channeling the power of Purgatory through her, giving herself regular old Hulk powers like that stupid, stupid story about the Merlin. And you need a soul to do that—something agonized, in enough pain to lure in the things capable of taking up residence in you and lending you the sort of power Morwenna is after.” He poked at the fire. “Mage soul is the only kindthat will do, and the more pain Crotherton was in when he died, the better it’ll work.”
    “So very well, then,” Pete said, thinking of the stricken terror frozen on Crotherton’s face when she’d found his body in the cellar.
    “Like gangbusters,” Jack agreed. “She wants to be top of the heap, and if we give her that thing she will be.”
    Pete looked from Jack to Margaret. She thought of their friendsin London. Lily. Everything she knew, engulfed in this endless fog. Every face that was familiar, white-eyed with a worm looking out. Or worse, simply shambling about, chewing on the neighbors and waiting to die.
    “Fine,” she told Jack. “I couldn’t care less if Morwenna gets what she wants out of this.”
    He blinked at her, and Pete spread her hands. “Do you? Let the Prometheans and the old godsfight it out. I don’t care. I care about us surviving until the next sunrise.” She hefted the soul cage and gave Jack a smile. It wasn’t much of one, wan and exhausted as she was, but she did try. “This is the last bargaining chip we have. Morwenna gets us away from here, she can have it and then we’re done with her and I no longer give a fuck what her plan is.”
    “They’re not going to do anythingin the dark,” Jack pointed out. “Give you a few hours to realize this is a bad fucking plan.”
    “It’s the only one I’ve got,” Pete said. “We’re not going to beat her, Jack. Maybe a year ago I’d have been inclined to try, but things are different now.”
    She prayed he wouldn’t argue with her anymore. She was too tired to keep trying to convince Jack that the attack plan wasn’t always the best plan.

    “Never thought I’d see the day when fucking Prometheans beat me,” he grumbled.
    “In the morning we’ll make the exchange,” Pete said. “And we’ll be alive, Jack. That’s the best deal I can think of. Only your pride is keeping you from seeing that.”
    “I’m tired,” he snapped, and stretched out on the floor, rolling away from her.
    Pete watched the fire for a long time, trying to believe the lie she’dtold Jack, and Margaret, and herself, and not having any luck.

 
    26.
    When what passed for morning crept through the fog, and the villagers had retreated to whatever dank holes they crawled into to hide from the daylight, Pete, Jack, and Margaret walked the