Free Queen of The Hill (Knight Games) by Genevieve Jack

power into her and sifted her soul through it, straining out a series of memories.
    Flash.
    A platinum-haired ball of energy, six-year-old Calliope runs into a living room constructed of nothing more than a filthy couch and beer bottles. Her father, passed out on the couch, stirs, and she stops in her tracks, heart pounding with fear.
    Flash.
    She’s twelve and the gym teacher is drilling her about the scars on her back. Burns. Her father put them there, but she doesn’t want to tell.
    Flash.
    Calliope turns fifteen, now living in a foster home. Her foster father gives her a guitar for her birthday. She plays it until her fingers bleed.
    Flash.
    She’s eighteen, on her own, and singing her first set in a hole-in-the-wall bar. Her stomach growls and she’s afraid the audience can hear it through the mic. She’ll need to finish if she wants to eat tonight.
    Flash.
    Julius introduces himself. Asks her to dinner. She eats until she’s full for the first time in forever. He buys her a drink even though she’s only twenty. Then he tells her what he is and proposes a deal. At first she’s shocked, until they have sex. Then she’s smitten. There’s a new apartment, food in the fridge, and the wound on the inside of her thigh doesn’t hurt a bit.
    Flash.
    She’s holding a glass of Scotch, standing next to Julius’s bed at the Thames, and sporting an ear-to-ear grin. He licks a bit of her blood from his lip then presses a kiss to her mouth. There’s a knock at the door. “Who’s that?” she asks. Julius looks her in the eye and says, “Relax.” His pupils dilate. Blackness.
    I tumbled out of her head, panting. Calliope’s ghost blinked at me in confusion.
    “Calliope North,” I said in a clear, strong voice, “I release you to heaven.” I sliced my arm. A drop of blood splashed into the silver bowl. Calliope broke apart into a column of light and disappeared through my ceiling.
    * * * * *
    “That wasn’t the smartest thing you’ve ever done,” Poe said. “She might have had information you could have used to find her killer.”
    I shook my head. “Julius had compelled her. She doesn’t remember dying at all, let alone who killed her.”
    “You might have been able to undo the compulsion. Maybe unravel a subconscious memory,” Poe said.
    “Calliope North has been used enough in her short life.” I darted a glance in Poe’s direction. “Now she is finally at peace. The end.” I shivered remembering the girl’s life. Sadly, being a blood bag for Julius was the highlight.
    “Understood.”
    “I did confirm one thing.”
    “What?”
    “Julius didn’t kill Calliope. Gary was telling the truth about that.”
    “There’s a first time for everything.”
    A yawn forced itself out of me, and I stretched in reaction. “I better try to get a nap in before tonight.”
    The feathers of one of Poe’s eyes arched higher. “You need more than a nap, Witchy Woman. You need a visit to the caretaker to recharge your magical battery.”
    “Rick and I are not exactly seeing eye to eye these days. I’m not sure I want to rattle that cage right now.”
    “Your undies are in a bunch over Tabetha and the candle.” Poe pointed a talon in my direction.
    “My undies are not in a bunch. I just have my reservations concerning what brought about the misunderstanding. Seems like Rick must have been stirring her cauldron to make her believe he’d become her caretaker.”
    “You think he had an affair while you were between lifetimes?”
    I paused, rubbing my palms together. “I don’t think he had intercourse with her. He told me he’s only been with me, and I believe him. I can tell when he’s lying or when he’s blocking me mentally.”
    “But?”
    “But I wonder if it was an emotional affair. Late-night dinners. Days prancing through fields of daisies, hand in hand, searching for eye of newt.”
    Poe cackled. “Fields of daisies?”
    I spread my hands and shrugged.
    “Well, if it is any consolation,