Days Gone Bad Read Online Free PDF

wood and Zola’s words hung in the air. “Darkness is moving Damian,” her gnarled hands shifted over the cane, “with you at its center.” I stared at her for a moment. She was still short, but with the presence of someone twice her size. She stood ramrod straight with a pile of thin braids falling past her shoulders. Tiny bits of iron and Magrasnetto, a silver gray metal, tinkled in each of those braids as she cocked her head to one side. Her eyes were intense, appraising me as I did the same. Zola’s gaze was slightly sunken below her forehead, peering out above sallow cheeks. Her body was wrapped in a deep gray cloak and her lips turned up in a smile as she waited for me to respond.
    I didn’t take anything my mentor said lightly. “What have you seen?”
    Her eyes narrowed. “Something Ah’ve not seen since bourré played more tables than poker.”
    A passing smile twitched my lips. We used to play bourré with Sam when she’d visit.
    Zola rubbed her right hand against her jaw. “Ah see demons, boy; demons all around you.”
    “Why am I afraid you’re not speaking metaphorically?”
    She laughed. It was rich and loud and entirely inappropriate. “There are things Ah can show you, ways to deal with demons. And you … you must listen, or you will not survive.”
    I put my left fist in my right hand and bowed my head. “Yes, master.” I even managed to keep a straight face.
    She laughed and slapped my shoulder hard enough to bruise. “You always were a pain in my ass.” Zola fell silent and reached into the folds of her cloak. When she removed her hand from its depths, it was gripping a small doll. The doll was plain and looked like it was made from a potato sack, stained with some blackened red substance. The Xs that passed for eyes stared at me. Utterly creepy.
    “What is that? A voodoo doll?”
    A vague smile crossed her face and I shivered. “It is much more than a pincushion, boy.” Her voice ground like a zombie dragged through gravel. Ah, that would be like a slow moving blend of a chain smoker and a deep, hoarse voice if you haven’t heard a zombie dragged through gravel. “Do you not see the aura, Damian?”
    It was inanimate. It had never been alive. It shouldn’t have had an aura, but as soon as I focused and looked for it, it was there. A sickly mixture of black and a red so deep it could have been congealed blood. I’d never seen anything like it.
    My gaze traveled up to meet Zola’s eyes. “The hell is that?”
    Her own eyes flicked down to the burlap figure. I would have sworn the thing was trying to wriggle out of her hand. “You are familiar with a fairy bottle?”
    I nodded. “Nasty stuff, they can trap auras and some Fae believe they can trap souls.” Zola raised the doll closer to my face and I realized what she was saying. Her comment about the shard, she’d bound something to it. “You’re telling me something’s trapped in that?” I twisted my head away and grimaced.
    “Ah would not say trapped is the best word, but it is bound to it, yes.” She lowered the doll.
    I stifled a shiver. “What the hell is it?”
    “What do you think it is?”
    There was no avoiding it. No matter how much I didn’t want to say it, or believe it, the pulsing red and black aura could only be from one thing. “You bound a demon to it.” My voice was flat.
    Her lips curled up just a little. “It is only a bit of a demon’s aura, nothing more.”
    I rolled my eyes. “Oh, nothing more, just a bit of demon. Would you like a towel to wipe up that bit of demon?”
    She laughed and turned her head. The orange glow of the fireplace cast her face into shadows.
    “So why do you have it?” I asked, indicating the doll.
    “Ah have learned much in the past two years, boy. There are evils beyond anything Ah ever imagined still walking this earth.” Her eyes closed for a moment. When she opened them, they dilated in the dim light, swallowing shadows. “This,” she said as she raised the