by Derek Landy
“I feel fine.”
“You’re talking to a hallucination in a restroom.”
Amber straightened. “Good point.” She walked to the door.
“One more vial, babycakes,” her demon-self called after her. “One more vial and then I’m moving in permanently.”
Amber left the restroom, headed for the exit as two people entered. She froze.
The FBI agents stood in front of her.
For a moment, nobody moved. Nobody spoke.
Then the woman said, “Amber, we’ve been all over the country looking for you. I’m—”
“I know who you are,” said Amber. “FBI. Agent Sutton, right?”
“Byrd,” said the woman. “He’s Sutton.”
“How do you do?” Agent Sutton asked.
“I don’t want any trouble,” Amber told them.
“No trouble,” Byrd assured her. “We sincerely just want to chat. Do you mind if we take a booth? We’ve got a lot to talk about.”
“Sure,” Amber said.
They waited for her to move first, and flanked her as she crossed to the booth at the back. She took a seat. They slid in opposite.
“We’re not actually FBI agents,” said Sutton. “You’re not in any trouble.”
“We’re here to help,” Byrd said.
“You have FBI badges.”
Sutton put his elbows on the table and leaned forward. “We’re part of an organisation with a lot of resources and pretty deep pockets. It’s called the Foundation of Light – maybe you’ve heard of it?”
“Sorry.”
He shrugged. “Not to worry. It just means we’re doing our job.”
“And what is your job?”
“We handle things,” said Byrd. “The kind of things you’ve been encountering on your travels. Sometimes it’s people like the Gundersons – evil and twisted but pretty much human. Quite stoppable. And then sometimes it’s not. Sometimes it’s more complicated.”
“Like vampires,” said Sutton. “We’ve encountered a few towns suffering from the same problem as Cascade Falls, but never quite so widespread. You certainly did a number on them. We were very impressed.”
Byrd nodded. “Very.”
Amber watched them. “So your organisation—”
“The Foundation.”
“—the Foundation, you’re like cops tracking down all the monsters out there?”
“That’s exactly what we are,” Byrd said. “We each have our reasons for joining. I’m ex-FBI, but Sutton here was born into it.”
“That’s why we’re here,” Sutton said. “The Foundation was set up in the 1970s by a woman named Molly Harper. I don’t expect that name to mean anything to you, but—”
“She knew my brother,” Amber said, eyes widening. “And my sister.”
Sutton frowned. “Uh … yes. How did you know?”
“I’ve been dreaming about it. My brother helped her. Saved her. She tried to do the same in return for my sister.”
“That’s … that’s right,” said Sutton. “If it wasn’t for your brother, Molly wouldn’t have lived to see her seventeenth birthday.”
Despite her wariness, Amber smiled.
“They only had a brief time together,” Sutton continued, “but what they had was enough. I don’t know how much you’ve dreamed, but it might give you some solace to know that your brother finally experienced love in his last few days, before your parents and their friends caught up with him.”
“It does,” Amber said quietly.
“After James’s death, Molly devoted her life to finding out more about the monsters that killed him. This led to her uncovering all kinds of killers and demons roaming this great country of ours, and she realised something had to be done. There had to be someone out there willing to walk into the shadows to fight them.
“And, as you said, she tried to help your sister. It wasn’t easy tracking your parents down, not back then. She managed it, but she was too late. By the time she found her, Carolyn had already turned sixteen. Molly just didn’t have enough time to get her to safety.”
“I saw her,” Amber said. “She did her best.”
“So she set up the Foundation of Light,” Byrd said, “a privately funded organisation made up of mostly ex-military and law-enforcement personnel, people who have either been scarred in some way by these monsters, or have some other connection. Like Sutton, here.”
“Molly Harper was my great-grandmother,” Sutton said.
“So now you’re here,” said Amber. “Why? To help me or kill me?”
“To help you, of course,” said Byrd.
“It could have helped me long before now,” Amber said. “It’s been around since the 1970s, right? The Foundation could have sent you or someone like you to kill my parents at any part of my childhood. Why wait until now to pop up?”
“There have been some issues,” Sutton said hesitantly.
“I am eager to hear them.”
Byrd chose her words carefully. “Molly died twenty years ago. Since then, there has been something of a power struggle within the Foundation.”
Sutton took over. “There were some who felt that you, as a demon-in-waiting, should be on our hit list. They were of the opinion that not killing you along with your parents amounted to nothing more than sentimentality.”
“Wow,” said Amber. “All of these conversations going on to decide my fate that I knew nothing about. Well, I guess that pretty much sums up my life.”
“But the power struggle has since been resolved,” said Byrd. “Sutton’s parents are now in control. And our number-one policy, from which your parents are naturally exempt, is we don’t kill family.”
Amber frowned. “Family? What?”
“Sutton failed to mention something about Molly’s time with your brother,” said Byrd. “They grew very close, very quickly. And contraception was not an option.”
The frown deepened. “She got pregnant?”
“And nine months later, she gave birth to your niece,” said Sutton. “Who grew up to give birth to my father. And then my father met my mother, and they had me.”
“What?”
“It’s very good to meet you, Great-Grand-Aunt Amber.”
Amber didn’t realise she had jumped out of her seat until she was standing and staring at Sutton. “You’re kidding.”
“I am not.”
“Oh my God … I have family?”
“That doesn’t want to kill you. Must be weird.”
“It is,” she said. “Very.”
“If it makes you feel any better,” Byrd said, “you and I are not related in any way.”
“Thank you,” said Amber.
“Maybe when this is over,” Sutton said, “we could catch up. Get to know each other better. We’re family, after all.”
“When what’s over?” Amber asked, frowning.
Sutton shrugged. “Whatever it is you’re planning. We assume it’s got something to do with your parents, yes? We would like to offer our assistance.” He frowned. “You do have a plan, don’t you?”
Amber smiled.
MILO WATCHED SUTTON AND Byrd drive away. “The Foundation of Light, huh?”
“I’ve got a good feeling about this,” Amber said. “It’s like my brother and sister are lending me a hand. What did you think of them – Sutton and Byrd, I mean?”
“He’s okay,” Milo said. “Couldn’t get a read on her.”
“I think she may be resistant to your charms,” Amber said.
He grunted, checked his watch. “If we’re going to do this, we better get to it.”
Amber sighed. “Yeah, I know.”
They went to the out-of-order restroom around the side of the gas station.
“Ready?” said Milo. “No going back now.”
“Ready,” Amber said.
She slid Shanks’s key in, and twisted.
She took a breath to calm her nerves, opened the door, and they stepped through.
TWO
HOURS LATER …
THEY PUT THE SHINING Demon in the Charger. His eyes never left Amber’s the entire time. Even when Milo closed the trunk, she could feel them boring through the metal, seeking her out.
She shivered, and got in the car.
Night had fallen, and brought with it the thunderclouds. The sky lit up with lightning as the rain lashed against the Charger’s windshield.
“How can you see in this?” Amber asked as they drove.
Milo shrugged. “It’s not about seeing,” he said. “It’s about knowing your car and knowing the—”
A car braked ahead and Milo slammed his foot down, barely stopping short of a collision.
Milo looked at Amber. She didn’t say anything.
They took the next left and pulled over. A blurry figure hurried towards them. Amber moved her seat forward as the door opened, and Glen climbed into the back seat. She let her seat fall back, and Milo pulled out on to the road.
“That’s some rain,” said Glen.
Amber turned to him. “How was the journey?”
“Fine,” he said, nodding. “Got lost a few times. The phone’s GPS helped me out, though, so that’s okay.” He turned to Milo. “So, uh … How’s it going, Milo?”
Milo nodded as he drove. “Glen.”
“Good to see you again.”
“I suppose it is.”
“This is some rain, isn’t it?”
Milo grunted in agreement.
“Yep,” said Glen. “It is. We don’t have rain like this in Ireland. I mean, we have rain, we have all kinds, but this … this is something different. Even when it lashes in Ireland, it’s still pretty gentle compared to this. And the thunder and lightning! Isn’t it mad? I wouldn’t be able to fly in this weather. Did you know that? That I can fly now?”
“I knew,” said Milo.
“I can do other things, too,” Glen said. “Well, I’m trying to. The whole turning into mist and bats thing, that still eludes me, but I’m gonna keep practising. I’ll get there eventually. I really want to turn into a wolf. I think that’d be cool. So you’re human now.”
Milo shot him a look in the rear-view that Glen totally missed.
“Must be a shock to the system,” Glen continued. “To go from being strong and cool to … well, to being normal, I suppose. It’s funny when you think about it, isn’t it? You started off cool and I started off normal, and now you’re normal and I’m cool.”
“You’re a vampire,” said Milo.
“Yeah,” Glen said.
“Who was the last person you fed from?”
“Uh …”
Amber narrowed her eyes. “Glen?”
“Okay, I couldn’t find a criminal,” Glen said. “I didn’t have time to go looking for one. I thought it’d be much, much easier to find them. So, y’know … I took a little, just a little, blood from this nice old lady on her porch. She didn’t even mind, though, so you don’t have to worry about that. And I didn’t kill her, so she won’t turn into a vampire. She’ll just … she’ll just have some pretty saucy dreams about me for a week or two and then she’ll go back to normal.”
“You shouldn’t be hurting innocent people, Glen.”
“I didn’t hurt her! I swear! Just a tiny little bite! You wouldn’t even notice it with all the wrinkles!”
Amber sighed but said nothing.
Glen looked around. “Wasn’t the Shining Demon supposed to be back here?”
“He’s in the trunk,” Milo said.
“Is he chained up?”
“Of course.”
“Can I see him?”
“He’s not a puppy.”
“I’m not gonna pet him.”
“You’ll see him soon enough,” said Amber. “Here’s the plan, okay? We get to my house. We take him out of the trunk. We march him up to the front door. We knock. It’s all very civilised. My parents open the door. They invite us in. We make the exchange. Then we get the hell out of there. You got that?”
“Seems pretty straightforward. Will I need to use my vampire powers?”
“Don’t call them that,” Milo said.
“Will I, Amber?”
“My parents cannot be trusted,” Amber said. “If they can pull off a double-cross before we get to pull off our double-cross, there’s going to be trouble.”
“And I’ll use my vampire powers,” Glen said, nodding.
Milo gripped the wheel tighter.
They got to the house, and Milo pulled up at the kerb.
“You live here?” Glen asked, peering out.
“Lived,” Amber corrected.
“Look at the gaps between the houses,” he said. “You could fit three more houses and a tennis court in each one. Your folks like their privacy, huh?”
“Yes, they do,” said Amber.
The rain eased off as they got out of the car. It was hot and humid. The air smelled of rain and heaviness and freshly disturbed dust. It was a smell Amber was familiar with. It was the smell of home.
“Lights are on,” Milo said. “Looks like they’re here.” He glanced at her. “You okay?”
She nodded.
“I’ll knock,” said Glen, walking forward.
“Glen, no!” Amber called.
He turned. “I’ll knock. They’ll open the door. If they have any kind of trap planned, it won’t work on me, will it? I’m already dead.”
Amber bit her lip, then nodded, and Glen walked up to the front door, raised his fist, and right before his knuckles struck, he was blasted backwards off his feet.
He landed on the lawn, but was up immediately.
“The mur du sang,” said Milo. “Had a feeling they’d have one in place.”
Glen frowned. “What was that?”
“A blood barrier,” said Amber. “Only I can go in. You two will have to stay out here.”
Glen frowned. “But … but I won’t be any use out here.”
“You won’t be any use in there,” said Milo.
“I’d be more use than you,” Glen shot back. “You’ve got no powers, you’ve got no cool stuff you can do, but me? I’m a creature of the night.”
Milo took a tiny crucifix from his pocket and held it up, and Glen hissed and shielded his face with his arms.
“Guys,” said Amber, “please, have a little self-respect. Milo, will I be able to take our prisoner through?”
Milo put the crucifix away. “A mur du sang wouldn’t be able to stop a Demon.”
Glen frowned. “But Kelly’s in there, right? How did they get her in?”
“They brought her in first,” Milo told him. “Then they put up the barrier. Do you need everything explained to you?”
Glen ignored him. “Amber, I don’t want you to worry about Milo. If something dangerous happens, I promise I’ll protect him.”
“Kid, the day I need your protection—”
“Milo,” said Amber sharply, “it’s almost midnight.”
“Sure,” Milo said, and walked over to the car.
“He doesn’t like me,” Glen said.
Amber tuned him out. She wanted to pee, and puke, and sit down and run away. She could feel the final vial of blood in her pocket, snug against her hip. Drinking that would soothe her nerves, she knew. Even shifting would help.
But she didn’t shift. For her plan to work, she needed to be in complete control.
She turned at the sound of clinking chains. Shackles bound the Shining Demon at the ankle and wrist, and he had a sack over his head. The small amount of rain that still fell hissed and turned to steam when it landed on the glowing embers of his body. Milo held out the chain and Amber took it.
She walked up the path, passing the spot where she’d fallen as a kid. She’d cut her knee open and had run to her mom. Betty had almost been a normal mother back then, or at least a better actress. Amber remembered the Band-Aid and the kiss. Then Bill had come home, and Betty had shed her motherly instincts as easily as taking off a coat.
Amber knocked on th
e door. No answer. She turned the handle. It was unlocked, and it swung open. She looked back at Glen, and then at Milo, and they stood there, eager to help, but powerless to do so.
Amber walked into the cool of the house, and she took the Shining Demon with her.
THE HOUSE SMELLED OF a recently-cooked roast, the kind her father made so well. The place was so familiar to her, and yet so alien, like someone had built a set of her real house and was trying to fool her. It was an odd, disjointing sensation.
Bill and Betty were in the living room in their demon forms, holding Kelly between them. Bill laughed when he saw the Shining Demon.
“I told you she’d do it,” he said. “I told you she wouldn’t let us down!”
Amber ignored him and looked straight at Kelly. She was okay. That was the important thing.
“How did you manage it?” Betty asked.
Amber hesitated, looked at the Shining Demon and reached for the shackles around his wrists.
“She’s releasing him!” Betty cried, lunging for Kelly with her claws out.
But Amber yanked on the chain and the Shining Demon fell to his knees with a grunt. “I told him,” she said. Betty stood behind Kelly, talons at her throat. “I had to. He caught me releasing my friend’s soul from Hell. I had to tell him about your plan. It amused him. He wanted to play along. He wanted me to bind him with ordinary chains, and then he’d snap them and turn the tables.”
Bill regarded her with wary eyes. “But?”
“But that couldn’t guarantee Kelly’s safety,” said Amber. “And, once he’d killed you, I’d still be his representative. So these chains … they’re not ordinary.”
“And he allowed himself to be shackled?”
“Yes.”
Bill laughed. Hard.
Betty looked at Amber with a smile on her face. “You chose us over him?”
“Better the devil you know,” Amber said.
Bill glanced at Betty, then started towards them. Amber liked the look on his face. It was trepidation. It was fear.
“Nervous?” she said, and a smile of her own broke out.
His eyes flickered to her, then back to her prisoner, like he expected that skin to start radiating light at any moment.
