Closing my eyes, I envisioned a jail—an iron fortress. Picturing Gideon, Charlie and Tim trapped securely inside, I grunted and threw my hands in the air. The screaming sound of grinding metal and surprised shouts of confusion were music to my aching ears.
Opening my eyes, I was as shocked as the men who were temporarily trapped in a medieval-looking iron monstrosity.
“Excellent,” Gideon shouted with both of his eyes practically swollen shut.
“Did Daisy do this?” Charlie demanded, testing the strength of the iron.
“She did!” Tim shouted, giving me a wave with the arm he still had. “Did you happen to notice a detached appendage?”
With a sigh of relief that my training might be over for the day, I nodded and picked up his arm off the ground. Holding it high over my head, I rolled my eyes. “Like this one?”
“Oh, yes! That belongs to me,” Tim said, nodding. “Would you mind terribly returning it?”
“Well, I certainly don’t want to keep it,” I said flatly, walking the fifty feet to where I’d trapped my friends. “It doesn’t fit in with the décor of my house.”
“I beg to differ,” Tim said with a chuckle. “There are body parts all over your farmhouse.”
He had me there.
Part of me wondered if I was walking into a trap. I wasn’t sure how long—or if—the iron would actually hold Gideon, Charlie and Tim. However, it had only taken a few seconds to create it. I could do it again and again if I had to.
“You might have trapped those weenies, but you didn’t trap me,” Candy shouted from behind me.
I groaned. Seriously? “Candy, you really need to—” I began as I turned around and gasped.
There was not one Candy Vargo. There were two.
Gideon’s words roared to the front of my brain. “Sometimes what we see is not the truth. Deprivation of senses can strip away the obvious and lead you to the objective.”
Closing my eyes, I tried to focus on which one of the two boob-tingling Candy Vargos was the real Candy Vargo.
“Nope, not working,” I muttered, opening my eyes and backing up against the iron prison I’d created. Staring at the ground by the Candys’ feet, I tried to detect a footprint. I hoped that a fake Candy freaking Vargo wouldn’t have one. Only problem—both Candy Vargos were facing me and neither one was moving.
“There’s power in stillness,” Gideon whispered. “Wait her out.”
“Maybe,” I said, keeping my eyes glued right between the two versions of Fate so I would be aware if either of them moved.
“It’s time for you to have a go at me,” both of them yelled in unison, picking their teeth with toothpicks.
I had a few options. I was faster than hell. I could circle behind them and try to see who left a trail of green glittering light. That could also end badly—for me. I considered another iron cage of sorts, but Candy had already seen me do it. Candy might be gross, but she was deadly and smart.
Gideon covertly touched my back out of Candy’s view. “Can you hear me?”
“Umm… yes,” I said, barely moving my mouth.
“Good,” he replied. “Do not speak to me. Think about this situation. Remember Candy’s temperament and that there is more power in stillness than in movement. Aggression should be used only when a result can be produced. Words can bite far worse than a fist in certain situations. Use them and use them wisely.”
Walking forward, I stood about thirty feet from the Candys and waited. Their eyes were crazed with excitement. It was terrifying. One would be bad enough. Two Candys were going to give me nightmares for a few months.
Words… Words could bite. I knew this, but I was Southern for the love of everything stupidly polite. While I didn’t want to be attacked by the real or the fake Candy, I also didn’t want to hurt their feelings.
“I’m gonna kick your ass,” they growled. “You gotta toughen up, girlie.”
I smiled.
Their eyes narrowed in surprise. “You gonna fight me, weenie?”
I laughed.
Both freaking Candys’ eyes spit fire—literally.
This was not going well. Words. Use words. Make her move. Make her sloppy. Apologize after… well, apologize after if I was still among the living.
“Get the toothpick out of your mouth,” I said flatly, hoping they would do the opposite.
“Why?” they demanded, shoving at least ten more in.
“It’s disgusting and unladylike,” I snapped with an eye roll.
“Bullshuut,” they grunted, shoving two more fistfuls into their mouths.
“She’s Immortal, right?” I asked frantically. “She’ll live through whatever I do, right?”
“Absolutely,” Tim promised.
Remembering that Candy had survived when I threw her a hundred feet in the air to save her from getting mowed down by Heather’s car, I went for it.
“Great.” I flipped fake and real Candy Vargo off. “Eat crap.”
“Shit would be stronger,” Tim pointed out.
“Cursing isn’t my thing,” I snapped, although Tim made a fine point. Crap might be a little weak. “Gram doesn’t like potty words.”
Gram wasn’t here at the moment, but I still couldn’t bring myself to say it. Instead, I flipped them off again, but this time it was a double birdie. Potty sign language didn’t count.
Both Candys, with mouthfuls of toothpicks, shrieked and began charging.
Picturing a debilitating straight-line wind, I sliced my hands through the air. The violent current of air hit the Candys like a brick wall, shoving the toothpicks down their throats and into their esophagi. I felt awful, but I had to behave as if it was me or them. Plus, I really needed to know which one of them was the real Candy.
“Muuuthaar foaaarker,” they screamed as the wind continued to batter them.
Without thinking—because right now that was seriously overrated and possibly deadly—I sprinted around them and pushed the closest Candy forward. No footprint.
Bingo.
Diving like I was twenty rather than forty, I tackled the real Candy Vargo as she continued to choke. Punching her probably would have been the smartest thing to do if she was truly going to kill me, but I just couldn’t.
“You’re an idiot,” I grunted. I yanked her to her feet, turned her away from me.
I placed one foot slightly in front of the other and thanked my lucky stars that my YMCA self-defense class had included first aid. Tilting her forward while she was cussing me out like a sailor on a bender was a challenge, but I succeeded. She was turning blue. There was no time to waste. I wrapped my arms around her waist from behind and kneed her bony ass so she would quit struggling. Her shock at my non-traditional move made her go still. Quickly, I placed a fist above her navel, grasped it with my other hand, and Heimliched the living hell out of her.
“What in the daylights is she doing?” I heard Charlie yell in confusion.
Gideon laughed and sighed. “She’s saving Candy Vargo.”
“Kind of counterproductive,” Tim commented.
“That’s my Daisy,” Gideon said, watching as Candy puked up about fifty toothpicks.
“Get them all out, you asshat,” I demanded. I continued to perform upward thrusts as the wood dislodged from her throat. “Do you see why you shouldn’t use toothpicks? Not only are they disgusting, they’re a choking hazard, dumbass.”