Spectacle--A Novel

by Rachel Vincent

  From the other direction, voices shouted. Another small squad of handlers rounded the corner of one of the buildings, guns drawn, and began firing. The beasts charged, a bizarre parade of hooves, wings and huge feet. The cacophony was deafening.

  As I stared, huddled in the shadows, I heard a familiar voice shouting from the cluster of handlers and recognized Bowman’s profile, lit by a fixture mounted on the corner of the infirmary’s roof. He lifted his rifle and charged into the fray, firing at the manticore.

  I clamped one hand over my own mouth to hold back a scream of warning when I saw a terrifying silhouette rise out of the darkness behind him. With a great grunt, the giant swung the tree he’d uprooted.

  The tangle of limbs struck Bowman in the chest with a sickening crack of bone and the splintering of wood. His padded body flew into the side of the dormitory fifty feet away, then crumpled to the ground.

  Crisp leaves rained all around, ripped free by the force of the blow. I ran for the infirmary entrance, desperate to both escape the slaughter and to avoid seeing any more of it.

  The door closed behind me and I leaned against it in the darkened foyer, my eyes closed, panting from my sprint after weeks of inadequate exercise. Between the noise from outside and the pounding of my heart in my ears, I didn’t hear the approaching footsteps until they were almost upon me.

  “Freeze, freak! Get down on the ground!”

  I opened my eyes to find three handlers standing on the other end of the infirmary foyer, aiming automatic rifles at me in what light poured from the open manager’s office. The rest of the building was dark and quiet. Had Gallagher already evacuated it?

  “Really?” I said, trying to slow my pulse. “Have you been outside? I’m the least of your problems right now.”

  “On the floor, facedown!” the one on the left shouted. “Hands behind your back! We will shoot!”

  I exhaled slowly, steeling my nerve. “The more time you waste with me, the less time you have to get away from what’s happening out there.”

  From the courtyard, a man screamed, but the sound ended in a wet gurgle.

  The handlers glanced at one another. Two of them were visibly sweating, and the third’s gun shook in his grip.

  “You can shoot me and hope the sound doesn’t draw attention from the stampede of griffins, giants and manticores outside, or you can sneak quietly out the back door and live to see the—”

  “Shoot her.” Tabitha stepped out of the office and stood behind the men aiming guns at me, backlit by light pouring through the open door. She wore a satin robe, but her feet were bare and her hair hung down to her shoulders.

  “Tabitha? If you kill me, the baby will—”

  “Shoot her.” Mrs. Vandekamp stepped into the light, and I saw that her face was red and streaked with tears. “Her lover killed my husband, and he will know the pain he’s caused.”

  Vandekamp was dead. Joyful relief exploded deep inside me like a star at the end of its life, lighting me on fire from the inside out. I caught my breath on the tail of a sob.

  “I found my husband in seven pieces, scattered around his office floor. But there wasn’t a single drop of blood. Your lover feasted on the blood he spilled—”

  “I’m sure he didn’t feast...”

  “—and I want to know if he’ll feed from yours, as well.” Her voice faltered beneath the weight of her grief. “Does he truly care about you, or will his brutish nature prevail?” She laid one hand on the shoulder of the handler closest to her. “Shoot her.”

  The handler’s gaze was focused on the wall behind me, through which we could still hear the slaughter going on. “We don’t want to draw their attention until the system’s up and running again.”

  “The system is destroyed,” Tabitha snapped. “All of Willem’s hard work—years and years of research and design—gone.”

  “Destroyed?” The handler on the left frowned, and his aim began to falter. “Then how are we supposed to...?”

  “I’ve called in the National Guard.” She pulled a handkerchief from a pocket of her robe and blotted at her eyes. “They’re going to set up a perimeter and bomb the entire compound.”

  “Fuck!” the handler on the right whispered. “I’m outta here.”

  “No!” Tabitha shouted, when all three lowered their aim and turned toward the rear of the building. “Shoot her first! Then you can take my car!”

  They brushed past her without even a glance at me over their shoulders.

  “Wait!” Tabitha chased after them.

  I headed in the opposite direction, toward Claudio’s room, as fast as I could go in the dark hallway. The rooms were all empty; anyone who could walk had already fled, because even when they were locked, the infirmary doors could still be opened from the inside. But Claudio couldn’t move well under his own power.

  His room was empty. Two cuffs still hung from the bedposts, and his sheet was on the floor. Pagano’s pale arm stuck out from under the bed.

  “You did this.”

  Startled, I turned to find Woodrow, the gamekeeper, standing in the doorway, blocking my way into the hall. He had a pistol aimed at my chest.

  Deep in my belly, the furiae stirred. She wanted him. Lost in the trove of information I’d stolen from myself there must have been a memory of Woodrow doing something very, very bad.

  “Vandekamp started this,” I said. “Gallagher and I are finishing it. And we’re getting plenty of help, in case you haven’t noticed.” I tilted my head as another monstrous screech echoed from outside.

  My fingertips began to itch and I resisted the urge to reach for him. If he saw my beast emerging, he would shoot.

  “Where is he?” Woodrow demanded, and suddenly I understood.

  “You want Gallagher? Are you suicidal?”

  “Thanks to you, I’m unemployed. But there’s a lab out west offering a cool million for the only redcap ever captured. Vandekamp turned it down, but he’s not in charge anymore.”

  I indulged a bitter laugh. “You better hope you never find Gallagher. You’re on his list.” But he was on the furaie’s list now too.

  “Even the mighty fear dearg can’t stop a bullet.” Woodrow tossed me a set of handcuffs. “Put those on.”

  I bent to pick up the handcuffs, to keep him from seeing my eyes, as my vision became suddenly sharp and clear, even in the dark.

  When my wrists were bound in front of me and my hair was just beginning to lift from my shoulders, Woodrow reached forward and grabbed my arm in his gloved hand. “Gallagher’s the puppet and you’re the string. Let’s go make the big guy dance.”

  As he tugged me toward the door, I twisted and grabbed his forearm with both my hands.

  Woodrow froze as rage poured from me into him. His arm fell to his side and the pistol clattered to the floor.

  “Look beneath the flesh...” the furiae murmured through my lips. “See what really matters.”

  I let Woodrow go, and as my vision returned to normal, my hair still settling around my shoulders, the gamekeeper pulled a knife from his belt and made a long cut down the back of his left forearm. Then he began to peel back his own skin.

  Horrified, I pushed past him into the hall, trying not to hear the soft patter of blood as each droplet hit the tile. “Claudio!” I called, as I ran toward the back of the building. “Claudio, where...?”

  “She won’t wake up.”

  I whirled toward the voice to find the werewolf standing in the hall behind me, holding his daughter’s limp body in both arms.

  “She won’t wake up, and I can’t carry her.” Beneath Genevieve’s thin, dangling arms and matted hair, blood had soaked through her father’s bandage. He’d reopened his stitches.

  “Oh no.” She’d been fine an hour earlier, asleep in her hospital bed. And now she wa
s...

  Her chest rose.

  “Let me see her.” I jogged down the hall and felt Genni’s forehead. Her skin was cool, but not cold. Her breathing was smooth and regular.

  I pulled back her eyelids and her eyes dilated. “She’s sedated. She must have fought the doctor. She’ll wake up soon and be fine, but we have to get you both out of here. Give her to me.”

  But then I shook my head and took a step back. “Wait, I’m not supposed to lift anything.” Among the things I remembered from the CVS procedure was the doctor telling Tabitha not to let me strain. “I’ll find a wheelchair.”

  Yet as I turned to head for the supply room, heavy footsteps clomped toward us from around the corner. The walls shook with each one.

  One of the beasts had gotten into the infirmary.

  “Shit!” I whispered. “Go back the other way.”

  “Wait!” Claudio cried, as I tried to tug him along. “I can’t—”

  The footsteps stomped closer, and a shadow fell onto the tiles at the end of the hall. My heart leapt into my throat and I stepped in front of Claudio, shielding him and Genni out of instinct, before I realized I was actually putting my baby in harm’s way.

  The beast stepped around the corner, and I nearly fainted with relief. “Eryx!”

  The minotaur couldn’t speak, nor could he smile with his bull’s mouth, but his outstretched arms spoke volumes.

  “Give Genni to him!” I stepped out of the way so the werewolf could get by.

  As the minotaur relieved Claudio of his daughter’s limp weight, Rommily stepped around the corner, her long dark hair hanging half in her face, her eyes wide and completely, opaquely white.

  “The cradle will fall,” she said, and a chill traveled down my spine. But I didn’t have time to worry about what that might mean.

  “Okay, go! Find a car big enough for Eryx. Look for a van. Claudio, can you drive?” The werewolf nodded, and I wrapped my arm around him for support as we headed for the back door. “Has anyone seen Gal—”

  Sound exploded from the other end of the hall, and I stumbled backward as pain stabbed at my left side. Rommily screamed.

  I pressed my hand to my side, trying to find the source of the pain, and my fingers came away warm and wet. And red.

  Stunned, I looked up to see Tabitha aiming a pistol from the other end of the hallway. “Now he’ll know,” she mumbled. “Now you’ll all know.”

  “Go!” I shouted, but my voice carried little volume. I couldn’t draw a deep breath. Each beat of my heart somehow hurt deep inside. But they didn’t go. “Claudio, get them out of here.”

  I fell against the wall, and my hand left a bloody print.

  Tabitha lifted the gun again, as I fell to my knees. “Run!” I tried to shout. Then the world lost focus.

  Delilah

  Something rushed out of the darkness of an open doorway, and Tabitha disappeared. I blinked, and my eyelids felt heavy. Tabitha’s legs stuck out of the dark room, her bare feet turned in by their own limp weight.

  * * *

  I heard a wet thunk and forced my eyes open. Tabitha’s head rolled to a stop next to her left ankle, her hair obscuring most of her face but little of the open wound her neck had become. Her arm flew out of the darkness to smack the wall to my left.

  Gallagher stepped out of the room. He dropped Tabitha’s other arm and his gaze landed on me. Fury and pain swam in his eyes.

  * * *

  Gallagher lifted me like a child and cradled me in both arms.

  “Press here.” He laid something over my wound and positioned my hands on top of it, and I realized he wasn’t wearing a shirt.

  He pressed with his hands on top of mine. I screamed as pain ripped through my stomach.

  “I know it hurts, but you have to keep pressure on it.”

  * * *

  I flew down the hall, bouncing in Gallagher’s grip. Claudio limped as fast as he could ahead of us, while Rommily helped with one arm around his shoulders. Ahead of them, Eryx ran for the door with Genni in his arms. Every step he took shattered the tile beneath his feet.

  We burst through the door into the night, and the cold night air shocked me awake, in spite of both pain and blood loss. Behind us, the roars and thuds of the beasts’ battle still raged, punctuated by the occasional shout or rapid burst of gunfire.

  “Head for the parking lot!” Gallagher shouted ahead to Eryx.

  My eyes closed again, and sounds floated around me. Footsteps. An engine. The squeal of brakes.

  Zyanya shouted something.

  I opened my eyes as Gallagher wrenched open the rear door of a transport truck with one hand. He laid me inside, on the floor, and everyone else piled in around me. Zyanya and Lenore were in the cab.

  The truck bounced as it drove, rocking crazily, but Gallagher kept pressure on my side. “Don’t worry,” he said, when I looked up into his eyes. “I’ve treated many battle wounds.”

  Tears filled my eyes, and his face blurred. We both knew I’d need more than stitches. “Aaron.”

  “What?” Gallagher said.

  “Take me to Senator Aaron’s house.” I gasped from the effort it took to speak. “His wife’s a surgeon. She owes me a favor.”

  “I don’t know where that is,” Zyanya called from the front seat.

  I gave her the address I’d read on the mailbox at the end of the long driveway. Paper rustled as Lenore dug a map from the glove box.

  “Only Gallagher goes in with me,” I insisted.

  No one argued.

  In the distance, an explosion split the night, and the pressure rocked the van.

  And that’s when the world went black.

  * * *

  I woke up on a dining room table, staring up at a tray ceiling and a massive chandelier. I rolled my head to the left and found Gallagher snoozing on the floor. When I rolled my head to the other direction, I found Dr. Sarah Aaron sitting on a padded window seat, sipping from a glass of ice water. The early-morning sunlight pouring in from behind her pierced my head like spears through my eyes.

  She noticed my movement and looked up. Then she stood. “You got lucky. The bullet broke your rib, but missed your lung. Your biggest problem was blood loss. Fortunately, I’m O positive.”

  I frowned, trying to understand.

  “You now have a pint of my blood,” she explained. “You’re going to be fine. But you have to leave. Now.”

  I tried to sit up, and pain shot through my left side. I gasped, and froze.

  “Wait, let me help.” The floor creaked as Gallagher stood, then shook with each step as he rounded the table. He slid one arm beneath my back and set me upright. Slowly.

  “Give her two of these a day, with plenty of water.” She handed him a brown pill bottle. “They’ll keep her from getting an infection. Give her Tylenol for the pain, every four hours, as needed. The stitches will dissolve on their own, but don’t let her lift anything until that happens. And make sure she gets plenty of rest.”

  “The baby?” I asked, and my voice broke on the question. My throat was so dry.

  Dr. Aaron gave me a small smile. “The heartbeat is strong. If you rest and stay hydrated, I’d say you’ve got a good shot.”

  Her face blurred beneath my tears. “So I’m still pregnant?”

  “Yes. But I’m serious. Let Daddy, over there, take care of you. He looks like he’s up for the challenge.”

  “Daddy?” I followed her gaze to Gallagher, who was clutching an envelope that had practically been pressed into the shape of his fist.

  “I found it on his desk.” He pulled a folded sheet of paper from the envelope and handed it to me.

  I unfolded it with trembling hands and scanned the writing until I got to the bottom.

 
Fetal species: fae of indeterminate origin.

  I burst into tears, then gasped at the pain in my side. Then I laughed, and cried again from the pain. After that, I was just crying.

  “Thank you,” Gallagher said to the doctor, while I sniffled and wiped tears from my face. He helped me toward the edge of the table, and I flinched at the pain in my side.

  “Tylenol only,” Dr. Aaron reminded us. “If she has any complications, you’re going to have to find another doctor. You can’t come back here.”

  “I understand.” Gallagher stuffed the pill bottle into his pants pocket, then lifted me in both arms. He still wore no shirt. His chest and pants were still stained with my blood.

  Gallagher carried me out of the kitchen and down the back steps toward the van. The rear doors opened just as Dr. Aaron closed her door behind us. I could see her watching through the sheer curtain over the window. But she would not open her home for us again.

  She and I were even.

  Zyanya started the engine as soon as Claudio closed the van doors. “Well?” he said as Gallagher laid me carefully on the floor.

  “Delilah’s going to be fine.”

  “And we’re going to be parents,” I added.

  Genni sat in the front corner of the truck, right behind the driver’s seat. Her leg was wrapped in a large bandage. “Un bébé?” she said, her golden eyes wide.

  “Oui,” I told her with a smile as Zyanya turned us out of the Aarons’ neighborhood.

  Lenore had her map open. She didn’t look at me, and I wasn’t hurt by that. Her loss was too fresh.

  Crowded against the rear of the van, Rommily and Eryx sat side by side, their hands interlocked. She laid her head against his arm and smiled at me.

  “Where to?” Zyanya asked as she pulled out of the driveway and onto the street.

  “Away,” I said as I stared through the windshield at the empty highway stretching before us. “We need to regroup. Recuperate. Then we’ll find the others.”

  “Delilah, we need to lie low,” Gallagher said, with a pointed glance at my stomach.