Nightmare City: Book 1 Of The Nightmare City Series (Urban Fantasy)

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Nightmare City: Book 1 Of The Nightmare City Series (Urban Fantasy) Page 2

by P. S. Newman


  David sighed. "You know this resistance is futile."

  Aunt Vy chuckled to herself. “When did he join the Borg Collective?”

  I managed to turn my chuckle into a cough. David turned at the sound and his expression brightened when he caught sight of me. "Eden, thank God.”

  "Hi David. I see negotiations aren't going so well. Must be a low blow for Mr. Big Cheese to be unable to persuade one teenage girl into opening a door." David and his older brother Sean were the founders and CEOs of PharmaZeusics, the most ethical and successful pharmaceutical company in the country.

  "Give me power-hungry board members and arrogant executives any day." He stepped away from the door. "She's all yours."

  Cecelia hooked an arm around his waist and leaned against him. "Sorry, caro. In this house, you're just like any uncool adult trying to take away her toys."

  “Uncool?” David exclaimed in false indignation. "I guess she hasn't been reading her American Scientist.”

  "Guys, I've got this," I said. It would be easier if it were just Bella, Aunt Vy, and me. "Go back to bed."

  "That's the best idea anyone's had all night.” David grabbed Cecelia around her waist and hoisted her over his shoulder.

  Cecelia slapped his back. "Put me down, caveman!"

  "Ah, role-play.” He patted her backside with his free hand. "Great idea."

  He carried her into the bedroom on the other side of the hall and dropped her onto the bed.

  "At least roll a boulder in front of your cave," I called after them.

  David returned to the door and winked. "Don't worry, I'll keep Lia distracted while you tame the wild beasty.”

  Even though she didn’t have eyes, I could feel Aunt Vy giving him The Look. "We'll need more than thirty seconds."

  But there was no point in me translating that. David had already closed the door, giving me privacy to talk with Bella and hopefully doing his best to distract Cecelia from worrying about her little sister too much.

  Longing gripped me, short and vicious. I was happy for both of them, especially Cecelia, who deserved the love and support she and David shared. But sometimes, seeing their affection for each other felt like a punch to the gut. A reminder of something I’d never have, feeding a yearning for something that would never be. Greyson…

  I took a deep breath and shook off the dark thoughts. I had a job to do - the one job I could actually support Cecelia with in raising her little sister.

  I lifted my hand to knock on Bella's door - and my phone rang.

  “Call back later,” Aunt Vy commanded.

  The imperiousness in her tone irked me.

  “Could be a client,” I reasoned, pulling the phone out of my back pocket. The caller-ID read Baptiste, Sean.

  “Ha!” Aunt Vy said.

  Which, of course, made me answer the call, even though I’d been on the verge of letting it go to voicemail. I didn’t relish the prospect of speaking to Sean, but I also wasn’t going to give Aunt Vy the satisfaction of bossing me around.

  "Hello Sean," I answered. "How can I help you?" At almost four-thirty in the morning. Sean prided himself on needing only four hours of sleep at night, but this hour was extreme to be calling, even for him. On the other hand, he knew this was one of the best times to reach me, since I worked night shifts and I’d feel obligated to at least call back in case it was shade related. God, I hoped it was shade related.

  A deep laugh reached my ears. "So formal, Eden? Don't worry, I'm not calling to ask you out. I heard you when you said it wasn't working for you."

  "Okay. Just... I guess..." I couldn't believe I was stammering. I should have just let it go to voicemail, Aunt Vy and her dictatorial tendencies be damned. "I'm sorry if I hurt you. I don't think I ever told you that. And I know it's a cliché-thing to say, but it had nothing to do with you."

  "Except it did because I'm not him.” He knew about Greyson. “But I get that it's nothing personal and I appreciate your apology."

  "I'm glad.” The five weeks in which we hadn't spoken must have given him some perspective. He hadn't been so cool about my rejection at the end of our last date, when I told him there wouldn't be another. Just because Cecelia and his brother were going strong after a year, didn’t automatically make Sean and me a great couple.

  I'd been worried our friendship would suffer, but I wasn't going to lead him on. He would never be The One for me. Nobody would. Not while I was in love with someone else.

  "I want to hire you to track something down," Sean said, pulling me out of my musings.

  "A shade?"

  "Yes. I'll explain later." He sounded hesitant, as if calling me about this had been a tough decision. "When will you be done?"

  I checked the clock on my phone's display. "If no other client calls anything in, around five."

  "I'll come by your place then."

  "Why don't you come to breakfast at Cecelia's at seven?"

  "No. I don't want anyone else involved. This one is... delicate."

  The line clicked and I was listening to the disconnect signal. He hadn't even said goodbye.

  “Delicate?” Aunt Vy repeated. “Sounded like ‘dangerous’. Maybe he’s more interesting than I give him credit for.”

  I grunted and put the phone away, unwilling to admit that I was just as intrigued. For Sean to call me five weeks after our breakup-fiasco meant it had to be something more than a gargoyle come to life. But I had a more immediate problem to focus on. This time my knuckles made it all the way to the closed door.

  "Bella?”

  “No.” The door between us muffled her voice but did nothing to dull the determination in it.

  "Tell us about the dream, dear." Aunt Vy’s voice was gentle. It was always gentle around Bella, who was the only other person besides me who could tune in and talk to Aunt Vy.

  Silence stretched through the door, but neither my sword nor I pushed her. Bella would only dig her heels in deeper and make me leave.

  "The whole class went to the zoo on a field trip last week," she finally said. She never could resist spilling her heart out to me.

  "I remember." She'd been excited because she hadn't been to the zoo in a couple of years.

  "Grace and I watched the iguanas. One of the big ones chased the little ones around when they got too close."

  That would trigger something deep and primal within her. Bella was scared to death of being chased by something bigger and meaner than her.

  "So you dreamed of the big iguana chasing you through the house tonight," I surmised. "We saw it." Even though 'big' was an understatement - it had been huge. Adapted to Bella's own size in that warped way of dreams.

  "What about Lassie?" Aunt Vy asked.

  Bella’s subconscious had sent the loyal Lassie to rescue her from the big bad iguana. A classic Bella-dream with a villain and sometimes, when she was lucky, a hero to protect her. Those were the nights she woke up crying instead of screaming because she knew that her hero would have to be put down, just like the villain. She lived a tragedy every damn night.

  Cecelia had allowed her one exception two years ago. Bella kept hoping we could make one more exception, just this once. But once had already happened. If we gave in, once would turn into twice, three, ten, fifty times, until she hid a menagerie of shades in her room. Bella knew that would be dangerous, not to mention illegal. That didn't make it any easier for her to part with her guardians.

  "I watched the Lassie movie with Lia last night," she said, "since it's one of the few I'm allowed to watch. Even though I’m old enough.”

  Resentment colored her voice. After the Surge twenty years ago, the age restrictions on entertainment had been tightened considerably to prevent the stimulation of nightmares that would manifest potentially deadly things. When Bella started having regular nightmares after the shade attack four years ago, Cecelia had tightened even those restrictions. At seventeen, Bella was officially allowed to watch more movies or read more books than we permitted. We only allowed he
r stories for fifteen years of age or younger; wholesome family books and movies that induced warm and fuzzy feelings. And yet…

  I made a mental note to talk to Cecelia about letting Bella watch more age-appropriate movies. They may instill more nightmares in her than children's fare, but festering resentment was a recipe for even bigger shade disaster.

  "Is the iguana gone?" Bella asked, interrupting my thoughts.

  "I took care of it. It was dead when I phazed it.”

  “Your Lassie did well,” Aunt Vy told her.

  "I know."

  "Then you know she has served her purpose." My voice was as gentle as my sword’s.

  The lock clicked and the door opened a crack. Bella's big honey-gold eyes peeked around it, wells of sadness in a face too young for such depth. "It still sucks."

  "I know." I opened my arms. "Come here."

  After a few more heartbeats of hesitation, she limped through the door and wound skinny arms around me, holding tight. I pulled her close, laid my cheek on the top of her head. Behind her, a dog trotted into view, tongue lolling and tail wagging.

  “She’s beautiful,” Aunt Vy said. I had to agree. Long fur rippled around Lassie’s body like silk. Dainty paws danced over the carpet.

  "I'm tired of being scared," Bella whispered. "Of feeling out of control of my own dreams."

  "I know, hon," I said, watching the collie. Deep brown eyes regarded us with interest, begging to be trusted.

  Bella drew out of the hug to look at me. "I want to be in control."

  The urgency in her voice surprised me. "Does that mean you'll take your therapy and meditation more seriously from now on?"

  Bella shook her head, her eyes distant. “I’m not talking about working through the trauma or controlling my mind. That isn't the crux of the problem. If I create them, shouldn't I be able to command them?"

  Not where I’d seen this going. Her choice of words made me wary. Maybe she’d demand I move back in, to live with them again. I steeled myself for the inevitable argument, one I would lose without Cecelia backing me up. I glanced towards her bedroom door.

  Bella noticed my look, and her face went blank. "Never mind. No need to call in the cavalry. It was just an idea."

  Dang it. I’d lost her.

  Bella looked at the collie and patted her thigh. “Here girl.”

  Lassie came. I crouched down beside her. Tail wagging, she stuck her cold nose into my hand. I laid my hands on her head and connected with my shade sense. Where the iguana had carried all of Bella's fear and anger, in Lassie I felt peace, hope, and determination. I enveloped that positive essence with my phazing power and disconnected it from Lassie’s physical form. She disappeared with a last whisper of fur against my fingertips.

  I caught Bella blinking away tears and pulled her in for a hug. It twisted my insides to see her so dejected.

  "Hey," I said. "You know I'm never far away. When you need me, I'll be there."

  She remained rigid for two more heartbeats before melting into my arms. "Promise?"

  "Promise. I’m the only protector you need. After all, that’s what you manifested me for."

  CHAPTER TWO

  By the time I returned to my house, it was almost five in the morning. I'd convinced Bella to go back to bed and try to sleep for another hour. I planned to phaze the boy-devouring kitten, take a long shower, then return to Cecelia and Bella’s house to have breakfast with everyone before getting some shut-eye.

  "Loverboy is here," Aunt Vy said with no little mirth as soon as we stepped out onto the pavement.

  I groaned inwardly at the red Ferrari parked on the curb in front of my house. I'd forgotten about my appointment with Sean. "So much for that hot shower."

  Aunt Vy laughed. She found the entire Sean-situation comical, since she’d advised me against it from the very beginning. I’d never really wanted to go out with him in the first place and had thus gotten into this awkward position all by myself. But her telling me that I shouldn’t date him when he asked me out had made me agree to it. A woman couldn’t let her sword rule her romantic life.

  Sean unfolded from the driver seat. Like David, Sean was tall and dark-haired, with dark skin. But the similarities ended there. Sean always looked skinny next to his younger brother’s muscular frame. His nose was wider, his lips thinner, his jaw softer. Though they were tailored, he tended to fidget in his suits as if he weren’t comfortable in them. The public often mistook him for David’s little brother, although Sean was the elder. Compared to David, Sean just always seemed a little… smaller, somehow. Then again, most people appeared small compared to “David is Goliath”, as Forbes had once named him. And the public compared the two brothers a lot, portraying Sean as the nice but somewhat awkward mathlete and David as the business-savvy, charismatic media tycoon.

  For the most part, Sean didn’t mind. It meant he could live his life in more peace than David did, while sharing their company’s success. Seeing how hard David worked to keep Cecelia out of the spotlight, I figured Sean got the better deal.

  We met on the sidewalk. I stuck out my hand for a shake as he leaned close to embrace. We did a weird sort of half-hug, half-shake dance, complete with awkward smiles.

  In the back of my mind, I heard Aunt Vy chuckling away.

  “They say it gets easier,” Sean said.

  That made me laugh. “I hope it does. Come with me.” I entered the pin on the keypad next to the smaller pedestrian gate. It opened and we walked through, heading towards the garage. There was no need to waste time standing around talking when I could be cleaning up for the night while doing so. Plus, if I was handling the shade, I wouldn’t have to look at Sean too much.

  I entered another pin into the pad on the side of the garage and the door rose to let us in. It lowered itself again at the push of an inside button. I hung Aunt Vy on a hook by the door leading into the house and waited to open the back of the van until the garage door was closed. People walking by on the sidewalk didn’t need to catch a glimpse of what was about to happen inside.

  I climbed into the back of the van. Sean peered in after me.“That’s a shade?”

  “Yep.” The kitten had started purring again as soon as we entered the garage, its eyes large and innocent.

  “It looks real.”

  I frowned at him. “Shades are real.”

  The tips of his ears reddened. “You know what I mean. It looks like a kitten. No obvious aberrations. Why did you bring it here?”

  “Because I didn’t want to slaughter it in front of a seven-year-old boy and his five-year-old sister.” Even if it had tried to eat the boy. No need to add to the kid’s trauma. If there was one thing people had learned after the Surge of the first dream manifestations twenty years ago, it was that the more traumatized a person, the more messed up their shades.

  “So you’re going to phaze it?” he asked, sounding intrigued. Sean was one of seven people, including Cecelia, Bella, and David, who knew that I was a shade. His brother had been instrumental in setting up my fake identity after Bella manifested me two years ago. David and Sean both knew about my phazing powers, but Sean had never seen them in action. I was too careful; if the wrong people found out about my abilities and who covered them up, my elimination would only be the beginning. Cecelia, David, Sean, and possibly even Bella would go to prison for a long time.

  “Phazing it is the plan,” I said, unlatching the locks that secured the lid of the cage. If I was ever going to let Sean watch me work my magic, the best place to do so was behind closed garage doors. But that wasn’t why he’d come. “How can I help you, Sean?”

  Sean turned his gaze to the ground. “I want to hire you."

  There was only one reason for him to hire me. "You have a shade situation."

  He nodded, shoulders hunching towards his ears. "I'm afraid so."

  "You could have called the Order."

  "I did. They're out."

  "Out?" The Somni Order refusing a case was unusual. Their sh
ade hunters, especially here in LA, were the cream of the hunter crop. They were merciless in the pursuit of their prey and the death-by-shade rate of the city was at its lowest ever. Which made Sean’s case all the more interesting.

  "They bungled the first attempt to eliminate the shade.”

  “Bungled how?”

  “All I know is they confronted it, but it fought them and escaped. I’m not keen on them screwing up again, so I told them I'd take care of it myself."

  "By hiring me." One of the cage’s locks was stuck. The kitten batted its paws at my boots through the bars. Little mewling sounds joined the purring.

  "Yes.” Sean sounded tense. “I want this matter taken care of without it making the headlines."

  Discretion was the main reason people called freelance shade hunters like me instead of the Order. The Order's case records were open to the public and reporters listened to their radio chatter as religiously as to the LAPD's. As a freelance hunter, people could pay me to keep their embarrassing shades secret from the general public at least. And I was able to work without a partner who might discover my unorthodox methods.

  "Why the need for discretion?" Maybe he’d manifested some sort of embarrassing sexual fantasy. Or given life to a pink unicorn? Pillowed his house in marshmallows? When it came to shades, the possibilities were endless.

  "I created a doppelgänger."

  My hands stilled on the stubborn lock as I looked at him. Doppelgängers were a challenge because a hunter had to make sure she eliminated the dream version of what- or whomever the dreamer had manifested. My shade sense gave me an advantage over other shade hunters, but I still had to be careful. Wouldn’t want to slice whoever Sean had dreamed about in half. It had to be someone famous or Sean wouldn’t be so adamant to keep this under wraps. Unless…

  I looked at him. He looked down at his thousand-dollar shoes.

  "A doppelgänger of whom, Sean?"

  He took a deep breath. "Myself."

  Now he'd done it. I was officially intrigued. Doppelgänger shades of the dreamer were rare. The dreamer himself never manifested, even if he was part of his dream. Only if the dreamer painted a very different picture of himself – for example if a man dreamed he was a woman or that he had one eye or three arms – did he manifest in reality. These aberrations usually made a dreamer’s doppelgänger easy to spot.

 

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