Kris and Bres.
There was no time to explain. I ran back the way I’d come, and the guys followed. I skidded to a halt in the spot Henri had been.
Blood.
It was smeared on the wall.
Not Henri’s because golems didn’t bleed. It had to be the creature’s. Good. It was injured, so maybe it would be easier to take down. Blood loss tended to have that effect on living organisms.
The snow was splattered with crimson, too, reinforcing my assessment that Henri had gotten in some good hits. Pride swelled in my chest. Go, Henri. A roar split the night air, followed by a bellow.
Henri’s bellow.
“This way!” I blurred toward the sound, pulse thudding in my throat. Henri, you idiot with a hero complex.
There he was, in front of the maze, grappling with an eight-foot monolith. Kris and Bres jumped into the fray and grabbed hold of the monster’s arms to incapacitate it. Henri punched it in the face, avoiding its tusks. More blood sprayed.
The creature strained against Kris and Bres’s hold, and the guys cried out, struggling to keep a grip on it, and then its arm was free, and its fist smashed into the side of Henri’s head, sending him flying off to the right. Kris managed to grab hold of the creature’s arm again, and I blurred right up to it, grabbed its head, and twisted with all my strength. There was a snap, and then the creature slumped.
Bres and Kris let go, and it fell to the ground in a heap.
Bres canted his head, staring at the huge furry creature. “What the hell is that?”
Henri joined us, rolling his shoulders to work out the kinks. “Nothing I’ve ever seen.”
My scalp prickled. What was this? Shit coming out of the woodwork at a time like this? It felt off.
“We need to get rid of the body,” Kris said. “I’ll go grab a couple of shovels and a tarp.”
“I’ll come with you,” Henri said. “Kat, you need to get to work on our new plan.”
I tore my gaze away from the unknown monster. He was right. I needed to focus on the important stuff.
“New plan?” Bres asked.
I took his hand and tugged him toward the house. “I’ll explain back at the house.”
* * *
Max greeted us at the entrance. “What happened?” He looked up at the night sky and frowned. “I thought there was thunder … lightning?”
Yeah, what was up with that freak weather? “I don’t know. Maybe it passed. Sorry, we were busy dealing with a new creature. Never seen anything like it.”
Max’s eyes narrowed. “What did it look like?”
“Huge, hairy with tusks and hooves.”
Max cursed under his breath. “Where is it now?”
“Back by the maze. Dead. I snapped its neck.”
The snow crunched, signaling boot falls, and then Kris and Henri appeared around the side of the house.
“It’s alive,” Kris said. “We were almost at the house when I looked back to see it get up and make a break for it.”
Max closed his eyes, mist pluming out of his nose as he exhaled. “It came with the lightning, didn’t it?”
Wait … yes. “It appeared just after the flash of lightning, yeah.”
“Then it’s started,” Max said. “What you saw was a minor horror, one of the weaker creatures from the Abyss. Still, it cannot be killed, and if one is out, then the others will be close behind.”
“Then what do we do?” Bres asked. “If they can’t be killed, then how do we stop them?”
They couldn’t be killed. But they could be locked up. “We catch them. We catch them, and we lock them up.” I looked to Max. “They can be held captive, right?”
Max nodded. “Yes, but Scorchwood won’t hold them.”
“Then we take them somewhere that will.”
“Hallow Hills?” Kris said. “That’s what you’re thinking, isn’t it?”
“It houses the most powerful, most dangerous supernaturals. They have the facilities and the wards.”
“But how do we get them there?” Bres asked. “I doubt our vans will hold them long enough to make the journey.”
“They will if you incapacitate them,” Max said. “You have weaver power. Maybe your weavers can come up with a stasis weave that can hold them long enough to get them to Hallow Hills? How far is it from here?”
“It’s sixty miles,” Kris said. “And then a port ride.”
Thunder rolled, and another flash of lightning ripped the air, but this time it was farther away, in town somewhere.
Shit. “That has to be another one.” I led the way back into the house. “We need to get to work.”
* * *
Five flashes of lightning. Five horrors to catch.
No one said it, but as we rode into town, we were all thinking it. How many more? And how long before we were overwhelmed? According to Max, the horrors were carnivorous. They ate meat, any meat, and there was a town full of sleeping humans for them to feast on.
My stomach was a twisted mass of stress as we pulled into the center of town. The lightning strikes had all been in this vicinity.
Karishma had managed to get hold of a warden at Hallow Hills. Turned out, he was a breed of feyblood that only slept once a month. According to Karishma, most of the guards at Hallow Hills were selected for endurance, obscure feyblood races that could withstand long hours and were impervious to most forms of weaver power. She filled him in on the shit that was going down, and long story short, we had someone waiting at the Hills to receive the horrors, if we succeeded in catching them.
I’d ordered Gramps into the dungeon with Emmitt the cell keeper, where it was safe. The hobbit had moved into Bres’s old digs and was happy for the company. Jay ordered Emmett the housekeeper down there too, and Bres and Kris carried Death to safety. Yeah, telling Gramps I’d found my father was a whole other conversation, so I decided to skip that for now. It could wait till later.
Karishma had insisted on staying on the ground floor and continuing the research, and Jay asked Lark to assist.
They were looking for clues to finding Tartarus’s heart by searching for information on Gaia. They’d be safe at the mansion, and there was an underground exit if they needed to make a getaway.
We’d run through worst-case scenarios, and everyone knew whatever we did now would only be a patch. We were running damage control, taking on each problem as it arose.
“Kat, you with us?” Henri asked.
Everyone piled out of the camper, which Jay had parked on the street opposite Cryptic Gods. The camper was the perfect machine for the job with all the extra cells.
Jay climbed out of the second van we’d brought. One we’d be using to get home once the camper was loaded and off to the Hills.
We checked our weapons belts for daggers, swords, and guns. Not that any of those would do more than slow the horrors down. It was the weaver mojo Karishma and Lark had cooked up that would do the real damage. Water in plastic spray bottles marked with runes. The runes turned the water into a potent sedative. One squirt was all it should take to bring a horror down. The only problem was the creature had to inhale it. Let’s hope all these horrors breathed through accessible orifices. Heck, let’s hope our weaver power worked on them.
“We split up,” Jay ordered. “Kris, you’re with Mai. Kat, you’re with Henri, and Bres, you come with me.” He looked at Max. “You’re free to go, mate.”
“Like hell,” Max said. “I’m helping. Besides, everyone I care about is asleep.” He looked across at his club, and his jaw ticked. “This is my life now. This is my home. I may no longer be a primordial god, but I have enough power to kick some horror ass. I’m coming with you.”
Jay nodded curtly. “I was hoping you’d say that. Okay, let’s move out.”
Bres’s gaze flicked my way, and for a moment, I thought he might argue that he needed to be with me, but then he pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Be safe.”
Henri and I headed east, past Good Spirits. The
spot where the bar should be was silent and dark. Looked like the spirits had gone to ground, and who could blame them?
We jogged down the silent street, scanning the icy road and snow-capped houses for any sign of a horror. With no idea what we were looking for, it was no easy task.
“It’s too quiet,” Henri said. “The other horror was pretty vocal. I don’t think there’s any horror on this street.”
“Or it could be in a house eating someone.” My gaze scraped over windows and doors looking for any sign of forced entry.
“No breaches,” Henri said. “No tracks.”
He was right. The houses were still and silent. Dark windows looking out onto amber-lit streets. Automated, outdoor Christmas lights twinkled. A reindeer stood proudly in a garden to our left, its red nose flashing. Elves dotted a garden to the right, positioned in playful poses across the snowy lawn. Someone had lit up the trellis that climbed the side of their house and … Wait a second …
I grabbed Henri’s arm to halt him. “Look at that roof.”
Henri followed my gaze, taking in the dark patches on the otherwise snow-covered roof. They were prints in the snow that led to the chimney.
“Shit,” Henri said. “Any hope it’s Santa?”
He was making a joke, but my insides were too cramped up with apprehension to appreciate it, not to mention I was already halfway up the path.
The door was locked, of course, and breaking it down wasn’t an option. Not if we were going to catch the horror unawares. No chance of open windows in this climate.
“Fuck, I should have brought my lock picks.” I patted my jacket pocket. “They’re in my red jacket.”
“Luckily, I have mine,” Henri said.
I stepped aside and let him get to work. Ten seconds later, we were in. Carpeted hallway, decorations up but not lit, the smell of pine furniture polish and recently baked mince pies.
Two pairs of tiny wellington boots sat on the shoe rack.
Oh, no. Children.
I gritted my teeth and steeled myself for the worst as we climbed the steps, moving quickly, silently, and instinctively avoiding the obvious creaky spots that developed naturally on steps. Yes, it was an art, and yes, it was part of our Nightwatch training. Avoiding the creaks was one of my special talents, and I was deflecting from the fact that there were kids in this house. Defenseless little humanlings. Tender, juicy morsels for a hungry horror from the abyss.
No.
Do not think too hard.
Do not let emotions get the better of you.
We took a right at the top of the stairs onto a narrow hallway, which was almost pitch black, except for the one door that was open at the end.
This was the classic horror movie moment where I’d scream at the heroine to get the fuck out of the house, to stop walking toward the door, dammit, because obviously nothing good lay over that threshold. But I wasn’t the heroine in a movie. I was a Nightwatch agent, and I did this shit for a living.
Hell, the thing in that room needed to be afraid of me, and if it wasn’t, it would be cowering by the time I’d finished with it.
We paused a meter from the door, and I indicated to Henri that he needed to hang back while I went in. We’d done this shit before. It was a standard play from the Nightwatch handbook. One agent hangs back to act as a second line of defense. The play worked, but this time, Henri’s eyes flared in panic. He made a grab for my arm to stop me.
I shot him a get-over-it look and stepped over the threshold into the moonlit room. My worst fears were confirmed at the sight of colorful posters and stuffed toys. The awful scent of death hit me—blood, bile, and flesh. Then the sound of crunching bone, the unmistakable sound of cartilage being chewed up and swallowed, assaulted my ears. Finally, the horror that was the cause of the sounds assaulted my eyes. It was on the tiny bed, wings splayed and twitching as if in ecstasy as it devoured its feast. I caught sight of a tiny dismembered foot on the floor by the bed, and nausea rushed up my throat.
No.
Pull it together.
A cold calm settled over me as I drew my wicked dagger from my waist with one hand and palmed the spray bottle with the other.
The horror froze and then raised its horned head. It took a deep breath. And then its head spun one hundred and eighty degrees until it was looking right at me. This was what humans drew when they thought of demons. This was the stereotypical demonic entity, and it had come from the Abyss. Eyes like fire, a mouth ringed in crimson gore.
It opened its mouth and spoke words I didn’t understand in a harsh guttural language. It flicked out its tongue to taste the air, and then threw back its head and laughed.
Don’t look down. Don’t look at the bed. But my traitorous gaze dropped to the mass of gore that had once been two children. A red ribbon peeked out of the mess, and a blood-soaked teddy lay in the center looking bewildered.
My control snapped.
A scream of rage swelled inside me and exploded from my throat, shattering my eardrums. The horror flinched in shock, and then my dagger was buried in its throat. Its hot blood stung my hand, and then it swiped the side of my head so hard I was flying across the room. I hit the wall with a sickening crunch and slid to the ground, enveloped in the buzz and hum of clawing unconsciousness.
No. No.
I bit my tongue, using the pain to jerk myself awake.
Henri grappled with the monster. I stood, crying out as a hot sword sliced across my torso. Broken ribs. They burned as they healed, and then I tucked in my chin and charged.
The horror was twice as strong as us, and fast; shit, it was fast. But Henri and I were a well-oiled machine. All either one of us needed was an opening. One spray and this fucker would go down.
Henri slammed a fist into the horror’s face, and its head snapped my way. The spray bottle was already in my hand. I raised it and fired just as Henri froze. The horror gagged, and Henri levitated off the ground.
No, he wasn’t levitating. He was being lifted by the horror because the horror’s hand was inside Henri. In his chest. All the fucking way in. How? How could he … Henri was metal. Indestructible.
The horror’s eyes closed, and it fell, taking Henri with it.
Chapter Ten
“Henri!” Oh, God.
He lay unmoving, eyes wide open and unblinking.
No. This couldn’t be happening. He couldn’t be—
He blinked, and life bled back into his features. “Fuck.” He grabbed the horror’s arm and yanked the fist out of his chest. “Keep your fucking hands to yourself.”
He was okay. He was … Of course, he was okay. Golems couldn’t be killed. They were constructs. He had a soul, but his body was a construct.
A sob of relief bubbled up inside me, but I snapped my mouth closed and took a deep breath, regretting it when the cloying scent of blood hit the back of my throat.
The children … Those poor children.
Crazy laughter scratched at my throat, wanting to be free.
No.
I stood and offered Henri a hand. “Come on, we need to get this fucker to the van, and then we have to come back and clean this mess up. We can’t let the parents find this.”
“Better to let them think their kids were stolen away?” Henri looked confused.
A hollow pit yawned in my chest. “Anything would be better than them seeing this.”
“You’re right,” Henri said. “No one should have to live with this image branded into their minds.” Henri hoisted the horror up in a fireman’s lift. “Let’s load this bastard up.”
* * *
Kris and Mai left for the Hills with a camper filled with horrors. They were hopefully halfway to the prison by the time we drove through the gates of the mansion. Jay insisted Max stay with us. There was safety in numbers, after all.
My body ached, and my head was fuzzy.
Sleep called, but the silence on the way back was filled with dread because we all knew that this wasn’t the end. More horro
rs could come at any moment, and it was up to us to stop them.
What if next time there were eight horrors? Ten or fifteen?
Doors opened and closed, and then we trudged up to the main entrance in a huddle. Welcome heat enveloped me as I stepped into the foyer. My legs felt rubbery, and my chest fluttered with that awful feeling where I didn’t know whether to cackle or cry. I’d seen some shit in my time. But the shit I’d seen tonight in the safety of human homes would be seared into my mind forever.
Karishma and Lark rushed out of the lounge to greet us. “What happened? Did you get them?”
“Yes,” Jay said. “Mai and Kris are transporting them as we speak.”
“How many dead humans?” Lark asked, his expression grim.
“Too many,” Jay replied.
A weighty silence fell over us all for several long seconds. I squeezed my eyes shut to dispel the images that flitted through my mind.
“Did you find anything on Tartarus’s heart?” Henri asked.
Karishma shook her head, and I noted the dark circles under her eyes for the first time. Her face was drawn and pinched. She looked exhausted. It was easy to forget how physically fragile weavers were. They had all this power at their fingertips, but aside from their ability to manipulate the weave, they were essentially human.
I squeezed her shoulder. “You need to sleep. The research can wait a few hours.”
“Kat’s right. Get some rest,” Jay said. “In fact, all of you get some rest. We’re going to need it.”
I was not going to argue with that. “I need to check on Death and my gramps.”
“I’ll check on them,” Henri said. “Go get some sleep. I’ll wake you if anything important happens.”
I could have gone and slept in my room, on the mattress on the floor, because Death was now in the basement, but I allowed Bres to lead me to his room, Henri’s old room. Shit, how had Henri felt about that?
Didn’t matter right now. I needed to strip and get under the sheets.
Lay the Ghost: Nightwatch Series book 4 Page 7
