Midnight's Angels - 03

by Tony Richards

  It looked the same as the others, when I first stared at it. But then I thought I recognized the way that it was dressed.

  A pinstriped suit, torn and ragged at the edges. With a maroon tie flapping out across its shoulder. One of its shoes was gone, but the other looked expensive. And the creature’s hair was dark, but with a sprinkling of silver.

  That was when its face came up.

  Its rimless spectacles were gone, its eyes shining unpleasantly. But I knew those patrician features straight away. And saw my worst fears had been realized.

  I had no idea whether the sense of recognition was mutual. Did these things even think like that? But Samuel Levin came to a stumbling halt. He was obviously the leader of this pack, because the rest of the hominids slowed down around him.

  His chin lifted and he studied me. Almost like I was a plate of food.

  My instincts kicked in savagely. Don’t ask me how -- I simply knew it. We could run as fast as we liked and he still would have the upper hand. There was more involved than mere physical effort.

  Cassie didn’t seem to get that, and there was no reason why she should. She gave my sleeve an even harder yank.

  “What are we waiting for?”

  And she was right. It made no sense to hang around. The pack was already on the move again, the judge still leading it.

  We were wheeling around and powering away next moment, urgency’s hot breath pushing us on. And it looked like a simple task to get inside the mansion’s grounds. The big iron gates, rusted open, could only have been about three hundred yards away. One good hard sprint and we’d be past them. And if Raine was okay, then we’d probably be safe in there. He doesn’t take kindly to intruders on his property … I’d found that out before to my own cost.

  But that instinct kept on nagging at me every step I took, despite the fact that we were both closing the distance very fast. It isn’t going to be this easy, a small voice in my mind was saying. I tried to tell myself that it was just me being pessimistic. But it didn’t really feel like that.

  The pattering sounds behind us died away. After which, I heard some kind of creaking sound.

  It was almost a mechanical noise, like some worn-out engine breaking down for the last time. And then it grew louder and higher in pitch. And I was forced to risk another glance across my shoulder.

  Maybe they still had enough sense that they’d figured out they were not going to catch up with us. The mob had drawn to a halt again. They were still down on all fours, except …

  I practically tripped over my own feet. Stumbled, and then fought to right myself.

  “What are you doing?” Cassie yelled.

  But I kept staring.

  Levin wasn’t down with the others anymore. He hadn’t stood fully up exactly, but was squatting on his haunches, the way a great ape might. His arms were spread out to the sides, palms upward, fingers curved. His head was tipped right back. I couldn’t see his eyes anymore. But his mouth was stretched wide open.

  That hole in his face looked considerably darker than the gloom around him. As empty as anything I’d ever seen. It was he who was making that weird noise. It was pouring from him in a continuous stream.

  Cassie had me by the wrist, and was trying to haul me the rest of the distance.

  “We’re almost there!” she was shouting.

  But I paid her no attention. Because my instincts were screaming at me. We were heading into some kind of trap. Don’t ask me how, but I just knew it.

  “Have you lost it, for chrissake?”

  The noises Levin was making became so high-pitched they could have shattered glass. I felt the muscles in my face bunch up. And Cassie finally let go of me, staring downward warily.

  “What’s that?”

  I didn’t know. But got the feeling that we’d soon find out.

  There was a sudden whumping noise from the direction we’d been headed.

  And when we looked that way, a broad, high mass of strange dark flame was lifting from the asphalt.

  * * *

  I had never seen fire like it. It bore no relation to the ones we’d started back in Union Square. In fact, it cast no light in the slightest. The flames simply came licking up, eight feet or more, massively distorting the landscape behind them but providing no illumination.

  In some ways, it seemed the precise opposite of flame. It was like looking at Raine Manor’s grounds through an enormous, flowing screen of water, but that wasn’t the reality exactly. There was still heat being given off. It reached us, working at the skin around our cheeks. If we’d kept going in that direction, we’d have quite literally been toast.

  The flames continued to leap and churn, sending black sparks up into the night sky. They blocked the whole road, and there was no way forward.

  Below us on the slope, the judge dropped back onto his palms again, letting out a gentle hiss. And that appeared to be a signal, because the pack of hominids advanced.

  Cassie had her Mossberg ready. And I’d pulled my Smith & Wesson out. But the look on my companion’s face summed things up neatly. If they managed to surround us, two weapons might not be enough.

  “Any ideas?” she blurted, casting her gaze around.

  Just the one. I shouldn’t have gotten her mixed up in any of this. I should have left her in the woods. The pack was closing in steadily, but was moving slower than it had before. They might have been reduced to animals, but they still seemed to know what guns could do.

  Were the two remaining adepts seeing this? If so, there was nothing they could do about it. They hadn’t been so much as able to spirit themselves up in this direction. And the doctor had already said it. Once beyond this veil of darkness, their power was useless.

  If we were going to get any help, there was only one source where it might come from. You couldn’t see the manor from here.But I knew where it lay, and squared myself up to it.

  Tipped my own head slightly back and yelled out, “Woody!”

  I was betting on two long shots. One, that he was still okay. And two, that he was taking the slightest notice of what was happening outside his own front gate. That was the tough one. Raine’s perfectly capable of keeping an eye on everything that happens in this town, without so much as shifting a muscle. But what he cares to do about it -- that’s another story.

  There was no answer. Not even when I tried again. I hoped he was asleep, because the other option was a good deal worse.

  A shot rang out. Cassie had fired a round over the cluster of approaching heads. It was merely a warning shot, and made them pause. But then they started moving in again, their front line spreading out.

  I could make out the details of Levin’s face clearly. His usual expression -- thoughtful and dignified -- was gone, replaced by a drooling kind of hunger. Spite as well, and seething anger. The kind of frustrated rage that comes from looking at the world and barely understanding it.

  His eyes were like dull pebbles, with not a genuine hint of real life or intelligence. I’d been standing in his study not too long back, surrounded by his artifacts and books. And it pained me to see the guy this way.

  The ones around him were his wealthy neighbors, but were now a pretty scruffy bunch. A lot of their hands were bleeding from the constant friction with the ground. They didn’t even seem to notice.

  I yelled out a third time, purely out of desperation. And when the sole response was my own echo, me and Cass exchanged heavy looks. We’d have no choice but to start shooting for real before much longer. I had five slugs in my revolver. Cass had eight left in the Mossberg. There were still the Glocks, but would they be enough?

  That was when the wind sprang up. It did not come from the direction of the manor. Rather, it arrived from the broad eastern flank of the hill, the usual way you came up here. It swept past us, moaning gently. And I didn’t pay it too much mind at first.

  But when it started getting a good deal stronger, the pitch of it becoming far more sharp … I began to understand that it mig
ht not be natural. Then I saw what it was doing to the flames.

  It was pushing them aside. My God. The wind was scything through the heart of the dark fire, parting it like a swift breeze through a cornfield.

  A strip of bare asphalt came into view, bubbling and smoking gently. It wasn’t a gap of much more than twelve inches. But a path through was a path through. It was the only break that we were going to get.

  Cass threw me a look that asked, If this is Woody, can we trust him?

  But no, I wasn’t convinced that this was Raine at all. We’d still not heard a word from him. And this wind wasn’t coming from the manor. Considering the position we were in, though, I was ready to take any chance, whichever source it came from.

  “Beggars can’t be choosers,” I reminded her.

  She let out a big, fat curse.

  “Remember how fast we were running before?” I asked. “We need to run a whole lot faster. Stick with me and let’s get going.”

  CHAPTER 28

  I won’t claim it was a whole load of fun. Getting out of trouble rarely is. The heat was so massive that we didn’t dare breathe in case our lungs got scorched. And sweat poured into my eyes, almost blinding me.

  A couple of times, it looked like the dark fire was going to rush in on us. But each time that happened the wind got stronger, forcing it back. And finally, we stumbled through.

  “I’ll never look at a barbeque the same way again,” Cass was panting half a minute later.

  I could see her point, because we both now knew how a hamburger felt. The moisture in my eyes had practically been seared away. The skin on my face felt tender, sore, and there were several burn marks on my clothes.

  Cass was rubbing at a badly reddened elbow. But she grit her teeth, not letting out a sound. Then we stared back the way we’d come.

  The creatures hadn’t tried to follow us. The wind had died away completely, the channel through the dark flames closing to our rear. We could see the pack of hominids milling about furiously on the other side. Sooner or later Levin -- or at least the thing that he’d become -- would realize that it might be better if he made the fire vanish. But he didn’t seem to be too quick on the uptake these days. That was unsettling from one point of view, but it worked to our advantage.

  What he’d done worried me badly, all the same. If the adepts who had been transformed were still in full possession of their witchcraft, then the trouble we had been in might amount to very little, compared to the dangers we were going to have to face.

  Which made our visit here even more urgent. We headed up along the drive as soon as we’d recovered.

  The trees around us had not a single speck of greenery on them. But despite the fact that they looked dead, they still kept growing, every year. Bugs of various sizes hummed beneath them. And something shuffled through the upper branches, making a strange chittering sound.

  Occasionally, there’d be a break in the canopy. And when I looked up, I could see that there was still no light. The sky seemed to be black and blank. So this place was affected too.

  There was no telling, right at the moment, what had happened to its owner. I didn’t like to think about it. Felt my chest grow tight.

  The porch and front door came in sight. And Cass began to slow a little, looking visibly uncomfortable. As I said, she’d never been up here before. I was the one who, when it was necessary, paid Raine a visit. The fact was, Cassie had a natural antipathy to adepts. She’d put up with the likes of the judge, in the past, because she had to. But a magician far more crazed and unpredictable was a completely different matter.

  “What if he turns out to be loping around like a monkey too?”

  I put on what I hoped was a reassuring face. “Who knows? Might be an improvement.”

  But that didn’t even get a tiny grin from her.

  As we got closer, I could see the doors were firmly shut. Woodard Raine was more of a recluse than ever, these days. He was the last descendant of what had always been the most important family in the Landing. His ancestors had founded this town. And because of that, Raine regarded the place as his own. So he ought to have some inkling what was happening to its people.

  When I went up on the porch and rang the bell, there was no immediate response. But then I heard some shuffling behind the heavy woodwork, followed by a metallic clunk. And the door eased open a small crack. A pair of eyes -- one green, one yellow -- peered at me from the dimness inside.

  “Hi, Hampton,” I murmured.

  This was Raine’s enormously tubby, walleyed manservant. I could make out that he was in his normal dark blue uniform. It filled up the narrow gap. The guy was as round as a balloon.

  “Mr. Devries? We weren’t expecting you.”

  I found that hard to believe. Raine had always known, previously, when I was on the way.

  “Is Woody … is your employer around?”

  “Of course he is. Where else would he be?”

  The guy opened the door a little further, and then peered up past me at the sky. He frowned and took a quick glance at his wristwatch, giving it a shake.

  “My word, but dawn seems to be late this morning.”

  Sealed inside the darkened house, he hadn’t even noticed.

  “Which is what I’ve come about.”

  Creases appeared in the corners of Hampton’s mouth. “Ah. Is there trouble?”

  And he was serious. So I immediately saw where communications had broken down. Raine had to know what was going on, but hadn’t bothered to tell the only person loyal to him in the whole world about it.

  The lobby was practically pitch dark beyond him, just a couple of small candles breaking up the shadows. This man’s master -- amongst his other weird leanings -- did not trust electricity. And no sunlight got in here either, even on the brightest days. Woody had cast a spell on the windows so they wouldn’t let it through.

  “Has your boss seemed troubled recently?” I inquired.

  Hampton paused and chewed his lip.

  “To be honest, it is sometimes hard to tell where normal leaves off and troubled begins.”

  Which told me everything I really needed. Woody was fully aware of what was happening. But he’d either chosen not to do anything about it yet. He often gets that way, relying on others to take up the slack. Or else he hadn’t found a way to intervene. It was beyond his powers. And the second option was a lousy one.

  We had better go find out.

  “Coming?” I asked Cassie.

  Her head shook, her eyes going very cold. “No need for the two of us.”

  It was pretty much the answer that I’d been expecting. She’d only come this far to watch my back. Hampton looked slightly offended, but then stepped away from the doorway, forgetting about her. And I started heading past in the direction of the ballroom.

  “No, sir,” he advised, bringing me to a wary halt. “You’ll find him in the game room this time.”

  It was far deeper inside the mansion, and I’d been led there only one time. But I thought I remembered the way.

  * * *

  When I’d last been in here, Hampton had provided me with an old-fashioned oil lamp, so I could make out my surroundings in some sort of detail. But on this occasion, there was only a single candle. And it wasn’t even in a holder. It was floating in the air, directly above a pool table the baize of which was navy blue. Balls were spread out across it unevenly, and they were all jet black.

  I only got a vague impression of the rest of the scene. The crystal chandelier and damask-covered armchairs. The chessboard over in the far corner -- the eyes of some of the pieces seemed to follow me. There were paintings of hunting scenes on the ceiling above me, I remembered. But I couldn’t even make those out.

  Something passed between me and the candle for an instant, and then disappeared into the gloom again. It looked like a human figure, or what passed for one. That had to be Raine.

  There was a loud, sharp clack. One of the jet-black balls shot forward and struc
k another. That one bounced off the cushions some three dozen times, never even slowing down, before it disappeared into a corner pocket.

  “That’s called cheating, Woods,” I pointed out.

  “How can it be,” his voice came back at me, “when I decide the rules?”

  Suddenly, his huge eyes swiveled into view at the far side of the table. They were bright gold. And -- odd although it might sound -- I was pretty relieved to see that. In his darker moods, I had watched those weird peepers of his take on an added shade of redness, sometimes darkening almost to a glowing bronze.

  His pupils were slitted. The rest of his face could not be seen. I got a vague impression of the slim body below it, and took in the fact that he was holding a pool cue. He was tilting it around like a knight errant, albeit a deluded one -- the Don Quixote of the witchcraft world. I could only hope he didn’t mistake me for a windmill.

  “Fancy a game?” he inquired brightly. “We could make it interesting. Say, a buck a hole?”

  It was already too interesting, in completely the wrong way. But it was obvious that he was in one of his chummy moods. The fact that it was not appropriate on a day like this was, as usual, beyond his grasp.

  “To your rules? Forget it,” I grumbled.

  He seemed to shrug -- I couldn’t be sure. And then returned his attention to the table, bending out across it with one foot suspended in the air. The next time he struck a ball, it flew straight off the table, vanishing from view. I didn’t hear it hitting anything, so heaven knew where it had gone.

  But I didn’t have time for any of the man’s tomfoolery.

  “Woody!”

  He looked back at me, his eyes narrowing slightly. And something of a brassy tinge appeared in them, just like before.

  “I suppose -- “ and his voice now sounded laden down with care -- “you want to discuss what’s happening in town?”

  “What else?”

  “Are you expecting me to fix it?”