Evening Storm (Midnight Chronicles Book 2)

by Andrea Pearson

  “Is it possible he’s not an actual prophet?” she asked.

  I slowly shook my head, shrugging. “Anything is possible. I really don’t know much about him.”

  “Neither do I, even though I’ve been investigating him for a while,” she said. “What about the targets?”

  “Wait. You’ve been investigating him for a while?”

  She nodded. “I heard of him ages ago. I didn’t know he was connected to you. Anyway, your targets.”

  “Well, as you’ve probably already figured out, they’re all Fire Impeders.”

  She nodded. “Yes. I went to visit a couple of old friends—needing help with something—and found the first one slightly off from what I remembered. I was dismayed to find the second one slightly off as well.”

  I frowned. “They’re supposed to be indistinguishable even to loved ones.”

  She shrugged. “I have a gift for seeing through lies. I’ve spent far too many years working with law enforcement—solving cases, dealing with things that aren’t what they seem.”

  That was a valuable talent.

  “Anyway,” Eleanora continued, “after visiting a couple of other friends, I realized someone was targeting Fire Impeders.”

  A couple of other friends? That would mean she was friends with at least four of the five targets I’d already assassinated. This woman seriously had a lot of connections.

  Though, the fact that they were all Fire Impeders probably had something to do with that.

  “How did you link things back to the Shadow Prophet?” I asked.

  “I went back to all of my sources and confronted them. They each hinted around at something, and I put two and two together.”

  I frowned. “The Shadow Prophet isn’t someone just anyone knows about. I don’t see how hinting would lead you to him. Really, how did you figure it out?”

  She blinked. “I’ve known him for a long time. He approached me forty or fifty years ago, asking me to do him a favor.”

  I leaned back in my seat, completely floored. She’d actually met him?

  “Why is he seeking the power of Fire Impeders?” she asked.

  I slowly shook my head, still reeling from what I’d just learned. “I have no idea. I don’t know much about him.”

  The only information he’d given me about my targets were trivial things—where they lived, what they did, hobbies, etc. Things that would help me get my foot in the door, so to speak, so I’d be able to off them. And because he’d only give me one folder at a time in the beginning, I hadn’t even known immediately that all of my targets would be Fire Impeders.

  “What does he want to do with their powers?” she asked again. “He’s already powerful.”

  “I know. And what he doesn’t have, he has at his disposal through the people he controls.”

  “So he does control people.”

  “It’s something I’ve recently learned. Porter, the last person who tried to help me, told me the Shadow Prophet must be holding something over everyone’s heads. Otherwise, they wouldn’t continue working for him. Especially after death. He’s blackmailing everyone.”

  “Including you.”

  “Yes.” We’d already talked about that, and I didn’t think we needed to go there again.

  “We’ve got a lot to learn about him,” she said.

  My chest warmed at her use of the word “we.” I didn’t want to get my hopes up, but with her apparent connections and experience, she might actually be able to help me. Especially since she knew more about the situation than anyone I talked to before. Not even Heather, the woman who’d helped me find Porter, had known it was Fire Impeders I was hunting.

  “Do you think it’s possible to stop him?” I asked. I had to ask it—had to know what she thought.

  “I was going to ask you the same thing. Has he shown any weaknesses?”

  “Not really. Other than the fact that he doesn’t move around a lot. I’m not sure why, but he puts up a lot of protections around himself and then stays in one spot for a while.”

  “He must need to be tethered to something that is hard to move.” She tapped her cheek, thinking. “I would assume it’s his body. A lot of ghosts are tethered to their physical bodies.”

  “Makes sense.”

  “I have a job I want to hire you to do.”

  I blinked, struggling to shift my brain from the previous topic to this new one. “Okay. What do you need?”

  “Someone’s been vandalizing a mom-and-pop fabric store in Sandy every night for the last week or two. I’d like you to take care of the situation. Cops have been ineffective, and my friends are close to shutting down. I have reason to believe the attacks are supernatural.”

  Fabric store. The last time I’d been in one was when I needed to get my crimson tattoo.

  “All right. I have time to look into it tonight.”

  “Fantastic. I’ll text you the address.”

  It only surprised me a little that she texted. People were doing that more and more these days, it seemed.

  We promised to keep each other updated on the progress we were making with researching the demon and the Shadow Prophet, and then we parted ways.

  It was past five o’clock when I left Eleanora’s house, so I decided to head straight to the mom-and-pop store, grabbing dinner along the way.

  Eleanora sent me a text while I was in the drive-through.

  They’re expecting you. I hope you put a stop to the situation.

  So did I. The owner greeted me at the door and showed me around before thanking me and leaving.

  I made sure both doors were locked, then wandered the store for a moment, doing my best to ignore the emotions that washed over me as I stared at the bolts of fabric. It had been a while since I’d been in a store of this kind. In fact, the last time had been shortly after my kidnapping, when my owners needed red silk for my crimson tattoo and couldn’t get it themselves. For some reason, they’d taken me to a store in the town I’d grown up in rather to a random place in some random city somewhere else on earth.

  Naturally, I’d taken advantage of the opportunity to call my parents.

  It was the last time I talked to my dad.

  I closed my eyes, swallowing. No time to go down that rabbit hole. I had work to do.

  38

  I shoved my emotions aside and walked to the little office near the break room and bathroom at the back of the store. The owner had pointed out the security tapes. I watched the tapes of the previous attacks while waiting for something to happen. As I’d been warned, nothing showed up on camera. The store looked normal, then the cameras glitched. When they worked again, the store was trashed.

  The owner said no damage had ever been done to the security system. The cameras simply didn’t function during the attacks.

  Eleanora had to be right—something supernatural was going on.

  Realizing I could be there all night, I commanded my nightshade tattoo to keep me awake and alert, and settled in.

  The next several hours were boring. But finally, half an hour after midnight, I heard a noise coming from the main part of the store.

  By that point, I was in the break room, watching YouTube videos on silent, eating a snack. I froze, wanting to be sure I’d actually heard something.

  There. There it was again. A whisper.

  I set my phone down, silently pushing away from the table and getting to my feet. Then I picked my gun up from where I’d laid it on the table, made sure the safety was off, and stepped to the doorway. I peered around the corner.

  I couldn’t see anything.

  Let me rephrase that.

  I couldn’t see anyone. But I definitely saw lots of things. And frankly, it surprised me no one had witnessed this before.

  Bolts were flying back and forth across the room, fabric trailing behind them. They made hardly any sound when they landed, and I had to shift my position to see why—they were being caught by invisible hands and arms.

  What the crap
? I stayed where I was, gun at the ready, watching.

  My tattoo wasn’t telling me anything. That meant it could be one of two things. Either these were hounds—invisible ones—or they were ghosts.

  I hadn’t heard anything about invisible hounds. It had to be ghosts.

  There was only one person I knew who could deal with the unliving. And I really hated to wake her up in the middle the night.

  I had no choice, though. I couldn’t stop a ghost on my own, and I already knew the owners were on their last straw.

  If I didn’t do something, no one could.

  And so I quietly stepped back into the break room. I closed the door softly, then picked up my phone and dialed her number.

  Lizzie answered on the third ring.

  “Abel? Are you okay?” Her voice was scratchy and deeper than usual—she’d been asleep.

  “I need your help with something,” I said.

  “What’s that?”

  “It involves ghosts. Your Shade Amulet allows you to interact with them, correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “They’re attacking a little fabric shop in Sandy right now. I don’t deal with ghosts.”

  “Where in Sandy are you? I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  I told her I’d text her the address, and we ended the call.

  Once I finished forwarding her the address, I stepped back to the door, edging it open. Things had gradually gotten louder, and I could hear voices now. I still couldn’t see anything, though.

  Hoping they’d still be in the store when she arrived, I settled in to wait.

  My wait was relatively short. Lizzie arrived only fifteen minutes later. By that point, it sounded like the ghosts were throwing a party. Boisterous laughter filtered back to me, preceded by loud bangs and crashes. No wonder the store owners were close to shutting down. These had to be very expensive attacks.

  A light knock came at the back door, and I stepped over to it, undid the bolts, and opened up.

  Lizzie entered, looking exhausted, but alert.

  “They’re in the main part of the store,” I said, motioning with my chin to the other door.

  I let her lead the way, hoping she’d be able to see them where I couldn’t.

  She stepped out of the door without hesitation, totally surprising me. I have to admit, her confidence and lack of fear were pretty attractive.

  After observing for a moment, she put her hands on her hips and asked, “Are you about done trashing the place yet?”

  The room fell silent. Several reams of fabric dropped to the floor, and an ice cream cone splatted near the registers.

  “Who’s there?” a man called out.

  She didn’t answer the question. “What are you doing? Why are you tormenting the owner of this store?”

  “Owner of the store?” The voice was incredulous. “I’m the owner of the store.”

  Lizzie glanced back at me, possibly looking for affirmation. I stepped up beside her. “The true owner hired me to get rid of you. What are you doing here?”

  “I own this place.”

  A burly man in a wife beater solidified a couple of rows away, beer in hand. “And I’d like to know what you’re doing here.”

  I frowned. “Really? If you own this store, what kind is it?” I wasn’t sure why, but something told me it was the right thing to ask.

  The man motioned around him, a “You’re an idiot” expression on his face. “It’s not obvious to you?”

  I folded my arms, not taking my eyes off of him. “No, it’s not. Why don’t you tell me what it is.”

  “A pawnshop, you dimwit.”

  I chuckled. “Oh? Then why is there so much fabric here?”

  “Because I have stupid employees. I can’t get them to stock the shelves correctly.”

  “I don’t see any used merchandise or unscrupulous loan officers. Are you sure you’re in the right place?”

  “Of course I am.” The man rattled off the correct address of the building, confirming what I’d suspected. He’d owned it while he’d been alive.

  “You do realize you’re dead, right?”

  The man glowered at me. “Not exactly dinnertime conversation.”

  “Uh-huh. Anyway, this location might’ve been a pawnshop while you were alive, but it’s currently a fabric store. And I’ve been hired to get rid of you.”

  He stretched to his full height, his chest swelling. “Oh? And how are you gonna do that?”

  Despite the fact that he was probably an inch taller than me and had a lot more beef on him than I did, I wasn’t concerned. I could’ve easily taken him.

  Seeing as how he was dead, though, I wouldn’t even need to lift a finger.

  “Good point, good point,” I said. “But I wasn’t going to do it myself.” I pointed to Lizzie. “She’s going to do it.”

  The man scoffed, but Lizzie ignored him.

  “As owner of the Shade Amulet, I command you—all of you—to pick up the stuff you threw around, leave this place, and never return.”

  The man snarled, but I was surprised when he turned and started gathering bolts of cloth, wrapping them back up, and placing them on the shelves. Other areas of the store began getting tidied, murmuring and annoyed voices filtering back to us as everyone was compelled to obey.

  One by one, the bolts returned to their shelves, the broken things were swept and cleaned up, and the front door opened and closed—despite being locked—several times as the ghosts left.

  Lizzie sighed. “I suppose I should’ve had them actually clean, and not just pick everything up before commanding them to leave.”

  “It’s okay. You’re tired.”

  She nodded, and a strand of hair slipped loose. I couldn’t help myself. I reached over and brushed a finger across her cheekbone, tucking that hair behind her ear.

  Lizzie turned and looked at me, her eyes bloodshot, dark rings under them, and I pulled my hand back. My tattoo kept me awake, but she was absolutely exhausted. I didn’t want to confuse her or try to make something happen when she was so tired.

  And so I thanked her for her help and asked her to get back home and to bed.

  Still, after she’d left, I couldn’t help but think back over the confidence she’d exhibited while commanding the ghosts. It had been hot.

  39

  Lizzie and I met the next day after an early lunch. She gave me a temporary clearance badge for the black masquerade that would allow me to carry weapons into the event without someone batting an eye.

  We spent all afternoon designing our costumes further and finding places to hide all of the weapons. Just as we were finishing up, Lizzie’s phone rang.

  “Yes?” she said, half turning away from me.

  I couldn’t understand the voice on the other line, but I did understand the tone—panic. And when Lizzie jumped to her feet, I knew she had an emergency on her hands.

  “What’s the address?” she asked. She paused. “Kearns? No, that’s fine. I’m on my way.”

  She hung up and glanced apologetically at me. “Sorry. Gotta go. Getting called on a job. Active shooter.”

  I pulled my phone from my pocket and checked the time. “The ball starts in forty-five minutes. You don’t want to be late. Especially if something is going to be happening there.”

  “I know. I’ll do my best. Just hold down the fort until I arrive.”

  My stomach turned when I thought of needing to do that. I could kill hounds, but they healed really fast, and if too many of them were there, things would go ugly quickly. I put a hand on her arm. “Lizzie, your first priority is this masquerade. You told Chief you’d attend. Sometimes other things have to fall to the side to keep our commitments. Even when innocent lives are involved.”

  She hesitated for a split second. “I’ll only be half an hour late, forty-five minutes tops.”

  “You can’t promise that. The job could take all night.”

  She pulled her keys from her purse and said, “I’ll see you as
soon as I can.”

  I released her, wishing I could keep her from leaving. I hated feeling like this—like I couldn’t do a job. But technically, without her help, I really couldn’t.

  “Please hurry,” I whispered as she drove off.

  Without anything else to do, I changed into my tux.

  Lizzie had only been gone for about five minutes when I got a call from Eleanora.

  “I heard back from the owners of the fabric store,” she said. “Thank you for helping out with that situation. I didn’t expect you to call in Lizzie’s help, but it makes sense, given the circumstances.”

  “I don’t deal with ghosts,” I said.

  “I’m glad you recognized what they were fast enough and got the help you needed.”

  “It wasn’t a big deal—it ended up being one of my easier jobs.”

  She changed the topic abruptly. “How has Lizzie been acting lately where hounds and her amulet are concerned?”

  “I’m not entirely sure what you mean, but . . .” I proceeded to tell her about the storage unit and how she’d gone on a date with what turned out to be a hound.

  Eleanora didn’t respond for several moments, then she said, “I’m concerned that the amulet isn’t functioning the way it’s supposed to. I’m afraid she’s in danger. Where is she right now?”

  “She just got called out on a job to Kearns.”

  “Is it possible it’s not a real job?”

  Before I had the chance to respond, Eleanora thanked me and hung up. That definitely didn’t do anything for my nerves, and I started feeling stupid for not being out in my car, following Lizzie. How was I supposed to protect her if I wasn’t with her?

  Antsy, not sure what else to do—I couldn’t track Lizzie without risking losing the demon—I sent a quick text to Alexander, asking if he’d heard anything from the hound side.

  He didn’t respond, so I hopped into my car and headed toward Kearns, not knowing what else to do.

  I hadn’t gone far when my protection tattoo started pulsing, letting me know that the demon was active and triggering my alert spells. I got a call from the owner of the home, panicked about the beast in her basement.