by Ken Lange
I frowned. “Yeah, but I’m still confused. How are you involved with them?”
Her tone turned hard. “Look, it’s a long story, but they, along with ‘my dad’ and his brothers, seem to think I’m the second coming, or some shit.” She glanced up at me and smiled. “I’m not, but they sure as hell believe it.”
“I don’t get the air quotes. Isn’t Lewis your father?”
She growled. “No.” Taking a deep breath, she calmed herself. “Sorry, but that freak has been telling me and everyone who’ll listen that he’s family…and his nut-bag mother isn’t much better.”
“Huh. I’m surprised he has a mother. He seems like the type who would’ve killed her at an early age.”
She shook her head. “Ruth’s far too crafty to let something like that happen.”
I blinked. “Wait…Ruth Miller is his mother?”
She nodded. “Yeah. And she’s a blood witch on top of being a necromancer, which just makes her that much crazier…and probably evil to boot.”
I gestured for her to continue. “Okay…ah…think you could back up a little and tell me what’s going on?”
She checked her watch and sighed. “Sit. This is going to take a second.”
I did, and she sat on the sofa across from me. She leaned her elbows on her knees and started talking. When she was a little girl, she’d believed the story that her mother had died during childbirth, and that Lewis had raised her on his own. He’d dedicated his life to educating her in all things, especially the art of necromancy and combat. When she turned twenty-six, Lewis sent her to Russia to learn from one of the masters of the craft, Ke’lets.
At that point, I started reconsidering the journal I’d found in the cave.
When that ended in violence, she’d been sent back to Grants, but something Ke’lets had told her made her believe that Lewis wasn’t her father and that her mother was still alive.
Irritation flashed in her eyes. “Not that I know who they are.”
I held up a hand to stop her. “Were you close with Mikhail?”
She looked queasy for a moment. “Not really…but he was obsessed with me. The only break I got from his adoration was when he was tending the herd out by Highland Meadows.”
I frowned. “Ah…I’ve got a book you need to read. There are parts of it you won’t like, but maybe something in there will help you find your real parents.”
Jessica’s gaze hit the ground. “I’d be very grateful.”
The idea of telling her that her father was a lich lord and her mother an archangel made me uncomfortable. “I’d reserve judgment until you read it.”
Jessica nodded. “I have a request.”
I gestured for her to continue. “What’s that?”
She lowered her voice. “When this is all over, I’d like to disappear.” Grimacing, she fought back tears. “I’m not asking for help with that part. I just want you to let me go. Can you do that?”
I blew out a long breath. “I’d certainly like to, but—”
She held up a hand. “Before you finish that statement, I have something to offer in trade for my freedom.”
I shook my head. “Please, I’m not trying to bargain with you. But understand, I have a job to do, and while you seem innocent in all this…it would be a bit careless on my part to just let you walk away.”
Jessica frowned. “I understand, but what if I find out where they’re holding their massive undead army?”
Now, that was one hell of a choice: avoid a major conflict with an undead horde, or hope for the best and tell her no.
“Fine, but—”
She got to her feet and handed me a card. “My number’s on the back.” I gave her one of mine, and she pocketed it. “I need to get home… Oh, John’s gone missing. It’s a safe assumption that he’s going to try to kill you and your friends at his first opportunity.”
I walked her out. “Good to know. Thanks.”
She grinned. “You’re welcome.” Turning to me, she said, “Try to stay alive.”
Patting her on the shoulder, I said, “I’m sure it’ll all work out.”
Trusting a stranger wasn’t something I was accustomed to doing, but she had warned me about John, and she did seem genuinely interested in my wellbeing…even if she had an ulterior motive for it.
Chapter 25
It was just before dusk when I got back to the trailer to check on Cole. Unfortunately, my intrusion woke him, so I spent the next several minutes going over what Jessica had told me. He was just as shocked as I’d been to learn that Ruth was Lewis’s mother.
Shaking his head, he sighed. “I can’t believe that woman is their mother…especially since she only moved to town about ten years ago. Maybe she’s from Canada too.”
“Huh?”
He leaned back in his chair. “That’s where the Grants came from—or at least that’s where they were before moving here back in the 1800s.” Glancing up at me, he grimaced. “If I’d given it a little thought, I probably could’ve pieced this all together.”
I arched my eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
Cole gestured at the door. “Think about it. They have this place on lockdown, which means nothing happens here without their approval. The only thing that doesn’t really fit is the flesh-walker.”
I let out a rueful chuckle. “Really? As sickly as John looks, I would’ve laid money on it being him.”
He frowned. “I have to admit, the thought did cross my mind for a second, but there’s something about that scenario that doesn’t feel right.”
When I craned my neck, it snapped a few times. “If you say so, but it doesn’t really matter in the end.”
Cole furrowed his brow. “Why not?’
I shrugged. “Because he’s neck deep in this necromancy bullshit, and the law is clear when it comes to that.”
He nodded. “You make a good point.”
I got to my feet, and Cole held out a hand to stop me. “Where are you going?”
Gesturing outside, I said, “It’s curious that they know where we’re staying but haven’t bothered to come visit us in person. In fact, the closest they’ve come to us is Atsidi’s driveway, and I’d like to know why. I’m going to search the property and see what turns up.”
He rubbed his chin. “True—but what do you expect to find out there?”
I rolled my shoulders. “No idea, but I’d like to walk the perimeter to make sure we’re not being lulled into a false sense of security.”
He gave me a thumbs-up. “Probably a good idea. Let me know what you find.”
“Back in a bit.”
With that, I stepped outside and walked toward the edge of the property. There I found an intricately carved corner post, and I knelt to inspect the massive piece of silver inlayed with a number of unusual glyphs.
Kur whispered in my mind, “This is the language of my people.”
A tingling sensation ran through my fingers as I touched them. “These?”
Their power seemed to soothe him. “Yes. It’s been so long since I’ve seen such beauty. Atsidi is a talented and well-versed man.”
“How can this be the language of your people? I thought you were from another dimension or something.”
He laughed. “I suppose that’s as good a way of putting it as any. As for how it can be…I don’t have an answer.” The ring Atsidi created for me warmed. “I’m not sure how it’s possible, but it would seem Atsidi has an unconscious connection to my people.”
I got to my feet. “Has something like this happened before?”
Kur sighed. “It has… Long ago, we were contacted by the Telchines.” His voice became distant. “Against the council’s better judgment, the ruling body of the Svartálfar and Álfheimr allowed the Dvergr to forge tools to be sent through the portal.”
“Why would they do that?”
His tone dropped. “I’m unsure…but in exchange for the Dvergr’s help, the Telchines were required to build an altar. Think of it as a gate
way between realms. Later, the Svartálfar and Álfheimr used this portal to banish their enemies…like me.”
I sighed. “I’m sorry.”
His voice dropped to a near whisper. “Thank you.”
By the time I’d finished walking the property, I’d found a total of nine of the silver posts. According to Kur, the glyphs would prevent anyone who wasn’t invited from crossing the threshold. A very helpful trick, and one that explained why the attacks had taken place on the road.
All in all, it took me about an hour and a half to make my way back to the trailer. When I stepped inside, I found Cole sitting at the table.
Gesturing at him, I asked, “What are you doing up?”
He shrugged. “Got my beauty rest, I suppose.” Tugging his shirt to the side, he pointed at the scars. “It seems I did some healing as well.”
I leaned over to get a closer look. “Your mother’s work?”
He shook his head. “I don’t think so. My money’s on the coin.”
Kur squirmed inside my head. “It was the least I could do, considering the odds we’re facing.”
“It was…or so I’m being told.” Standing upright, I shook my head. “I had no idea it could do that.”
When he moved around in his seat, he winced. “I’m not back to one hundred percent, but I’m not bedridden anymore.”
I smiled. “That’s great news.”
There was a knock at the door then Alexander pulled it open and stepped inside.
Leaning to the side, I asked, “Where are the others?”
He grinned. “Don’t worry. I dropped them off at the shop in town. I figured this place was already a little crowded.”
“Good point.” Keeping my gaze on Alexander, I pointed at Cole. “Would you mind staying here while I go check on something?”
Alexander didn’t move. “If it’s all the same to you, I’d like to tag along.”
I sighed. “Thing is, we’ve got some new information. Do you recall the three brothers I told you about?”
He nodded. “The assholes who think they run this place?”
Letting out a small groan, I closed my eyes. “Yip, the very same. It seems they’re neck deep in this shit, and one of them has gone rogue.”
He scowled. “All the more reason I should go with you.”
I shook my head. “No, it’s not. I can take care of myself, but Cole’s still hurt, and leaving him alone before we know what we’re up against seems a bit…I dunno…stupid.”
Grumbling, he said, “But—”
My tone hardened. “This really isn’t a request.”
He growled and folded his arms. “Fine, but could you make it quick? There’s something in this place that makes me edgy.”
“You and me both. All I’m going to do is check out another mine and see what’s there. Then I’ll be right back here. Promise.”
Alexander flipped me the bird. “You’re a royal pain in the ass. I hope you understand that.”
I smirked. “I’ve been called worse.”
Not long after, I figured it was late enough to make my way to Jackpile Mine without getting myself shot.
Chapter 26
It was nearly dark by the time I reached the outskirts of the mine. Once I found suitable cover, I reached into my pack and pulled out a pair of binoculars. After nearly a minute of scanning the rugged terrain, I located their base of operations in the southwest corner of the pit. From what Cole had said, all the structures built by the Anaconda Copper Company were demolished years ago.
But that was hardly a deterrent for a bunch of whacked-out necromancers—they’d taken the liberty of erecting a temporary structure made of tin. They’d positioned themselves a few dozen yards away from a set of newly restored tracks. It appeared they’d put the equipment I’d found in the shop to good use. Sitting atop the rails was a modern locomotive with three container cars behind it.
The oversized oaf, Artur, was hobbling from one car to the next, ensuring that the padlocks on the doors were secure. He was sweating profusely, and his chest was wrapped in bandages. Apparently, the wound Alexander had given him hurt like hell.
Good. With a little luck, Artur’s injury would turn toxic and he’d die.
It took him several seconds to work up the courage to climb the ladder to speak with the conductor. After Artur disembarked, the train slowly pulled out and headed south toward the main line. I really didn’t want to think about what they were transporting, because the only thing that came to mind was zombies.
Artur lumbered off toward the metal structure, opened the door, and disappeared inside. Given its poor construction and lack of amenities, they couldn’t be happy about being forced out of town. Their inconvenience was hardly my concern, though. My main worry was how to get closer without being spotted. After I’d run through a half-dozen scenarios in my head, the door opened. Artur, Erik, and Diana made their way to the old SUV parked around back and drove off.
That was fortunate…unless there were more of them inside, but it was a risk I was willing to take.
When no one else exited the building, I climbed out of my hidey-hole and hiked over. I stopped at the small loading dock, but found nothing of interest. Turning to the building, I shrugged, took a deep breath, and approached with caution.
With the way my week was shaping up, it wouldn’t be out of the question to find that the place had been rigged to blow.
That feeling doubled when I put my hand on the knob, and it turned. How polite of them to leave the place unlocked for me. Hesitantly, I pushed the door open and let myself in. I had to say, it was a lot nicer inside than I’d assumed. There were two sofas against the far wall, three sets of bunk beds on the next, and a table in the center. It wasn’t much, but it was better than the cave they’d been staying in out by the bridge.
Unfortunately, there wasn’t anything of interest in here either. This was clearly just a staging area. All I found in the foot lockers was a generic change of clothes that would’ve fit almost anyone…except maybe Artur. Hell, the only thing that even resembled a clue was the whiteboard on the wall that had today’s date and the number seven hundred and fifty-two on it. I guess that settled how many zombies they’d pulled out of the mine the other day. Fantastic.
Irritated at the lack of anything helpful, I stepped outside to see the last rays of the sun dip below the horizon. A moment later, I was hit by a vomit-inducing stench that sent a chill up my spine and made my skin want to crawl off my body.
Kur writhed through my mind, intensely alert.
There was the sound of footsteps behind me, and I turned to find John Grants standing at the far corner of the building. Maybe it was a trick of the dying light, but I could’ve sworn his skin bubbled for a second…maybe two.
He smiled. “Good evening, Gavin.”
I nodded. “John.”
Craning his neck from side to side, he shook his arms. “You know, it was very kind of my brother to offer you a chance to leave. You really should’ve taken him up on it. But not only did you ignore his request, you went and harassed our mother.”
There was a weird energy in the air, and it made my stomach twist in on itself. “I’m pretty sure the message I sent with your brother’s lackeys was clear. I don’t answer to you, and I’ll leave when I’m done. Not a moment before.” Shrugging, I said, “As for your mother…I’m starting to think you three mama’s boys are still attached at the nipple.” I cracked my knuckles. “Where is the hag anyway? I’d like to pay her a visit once I’m done with you lot.”
He twitched as he took a half step forward. “Careful, boy.”
I smirked. “Why—I’ve already discovered that the three of you are necromancers.”
John grinned. “Figured that out, did you? Congratulations. Would you like a gold star?”
Cocking my head to the side, I sighed. “Christ, you’re stupid. You do understand that I’m a vigil, and admitting to the practice is an automatic death sentence…right?”
&nbs
p; The whites of his eyes glowed yellow, and his voice became husky. “I understand the Archive’s law.” His fingers elongated into talons, and his stomach growled. “But since they’re irrelevant, and I’m so very hungry…you’ll understand if I don’t concern myself with such regulations.” His teeth stretched out into fangs. “Be a nice boy and don’t fight. The adrenaline makes the meat taste funny.”
Kur whispered, “Wendigo.”
With his transformation nearly complete, he sprinted toward me as he morphed into an emaciated, nightmarish creature. Hardened shadows wrapped around me as I sidestepped the grotesque thing. He was quick, turning on the spot and raking his nails across my shoulder blades.
My back erupted in agony, and a tingling sensation shot down my arms to my hands. While the armor had kept me from losing my spine, it hadn’t stopped the pain. The blow left me off balance, ready to puke, and dizzy. Falling forward, I tucked my shoulder in and rolled back to my feet.
There was enough moonlight overhead for me to get a good look at the wendigo. He was slightly taller than John had been, and very thin. So much so that the remnants of his clothing hung oddly off his withered frame. His skin was an off yellow, an aesthetic highlighted by his funky golden eyes. Last, but certainly not least, he was sporting some serious death-breath.
Christ.
Sweat ran freely down my torso, and when John grinned, I couldn’t control the shiver that ran up my body. The moment he moved, I tugged the gladius from its scabbard but barely got it up in time to deflect the next blow, which was meant to take my head off.
He howled in frustration at having to work for his meal. I, on the other hand, was a little freaked out that the sword hadn’t actually harmed the wendigo. Hell, it hadn’t even chipped one of his overly long nails. While it worked wonders against the undead, and harpies, it had zero effect on this guy. I might as well have been holding a glorified toothpick for all the good it was doing me.
Opting for plan B, I pulled the pistol and fired three rounds, all of which landed dead center between his eyes. All that managed to do, though, was make him stagger back a couple of steps before he laughed and dove for me again. His long talons raked across my torso, carving out gashes in the shadow armor that quickly filled themselves in.
