by Steve McHugh
“I’m sorry you had to see that.”
I used the newly formed rockslide to get myself back to my feet and then walked to the edge of the cliff. It was the same cliff I’d been standing on as I watched Simon talk to the man in the suit. The house sat silently beneath me.
I changed my vision back to thermal once more and looked all around, and picked up the four shapes of werelions watching me from the tree line.
“They’re here,” I said as the four massive lions left their shelter and padded across the open ground. Not one of them took their attention away from me.
Caitlin was beside me a moment later, gun in hand. “Can we take them?”
“Do you have silver bullets?”
She shook her head.
“Then probably not, no.”
One of the lions, the female I’d seen arrive at the deer kill with the large male, took a step forward, sniffed the air, and then turned back to her pride. A second later and they were all bounding off into the woods, my thermal vision tracking them for as long as it was possible.
“They’re gone,” I said.
“It was weird that they left like that, they must have known we couldn’t have taken them all.”
“Don’t know, all I know is the lions are gone, and we need to be too. We need to find out who they are and where they came from. I need to go to Washington.”
“D.C.?”
I nodded. “I have a friend there who should be able to help; I want as much information as possible before I go to Shadow Falls.”
Caitlin glanced behind her at the cave. “First, we need to get the hell out of here.”
The roar of a lion sounded out from somewhere in the distance. “I couldn’t agree more.”
I felt a slight tinge of relief when I discovered that neither Caitlin’s truck nor my Audi had been tampered with. Apparently, the lions had decided that the troll was more than enough to make sure we didn’t leave alive.
Caitlin followed me back to my hotel, where I parked, went inside, and immediately removed the sword and knives from the bag I’d stashed in the cupboard, placing both it and the weapons on the bed.
“You’re going to wear those around town?” Caitlin asked, pointing to the sword.
“You going to stop me?”
Caitlin shook her head. “Probably not wise to take it with you to D.C. though, they tend to frown at people arriving heavily armed.” Caitlin’s smile vanished and sat on the edge of the bed. “We could have died tonight.”
“Pretty much,” I said and replaced the sword in the cupboard, although I kept some of the daggers on me. Caitlin had a point about traveling around the country heavily armed, but being armed was probably a smart decision. “But we didn’t. And that’s all that we need to focus on.”
“Do you think some of those missing people are down there with that troll?”
I nodded. “I think those werelions used the troll to dispose of evidence. After that bomb got detonated back in Canada, the werewolves who went to smell around got the scent of a troll. I think I know where it came from.”
“They lost one of theirs though.”
“They’re going to lose a lot more than that by the time we’re through.” I passed her one of the daggers. “Keep this on you, it’ll kill a werelion pretty quickly in the right place, and ruin their day even if you get it in the wrong place.”
She took the blade and turned it over in her hands. “Thanks. You know, I’ve been thinking. It’s like a ten- or twelve-hour car ride to Washington. How do we get there quick enough?”
“Leave that to me. I’m going for a shower. You going home to change first?”
“I’ll wait here until you’re done. Then we’ll go to my house and I can get changed while you wait. I don’t really want to be home alone at the moment.”
I understood perfectly and took a very quick shower, using my fire magic to dry myself instantly. I threw my clothes in the bin inside the bathroom and replaced them with a clean pair of green fatigues, a blue t-shirt, and a black hoodie. Considering who I wanted to see in D.C. I should probably have worn a suit, but it wasn’t like I had a lot of options to shop at eleven at night.
I followed Caitlin to her place, a two-bedroom apartment a few minutes drive from the police station. I waited in the car while she ran in to get a shower and changed. I told her she had five minutes before I came in to get her.
Being alone in the car gave me the opportunity to make the first call I was going to need. It got picked up on the second ring.
“Nate,” Felicia said with more than a little purr in her voice. “How happy to hear from you.”
“I’m sorry it’s not under more pleasant circumstances, but you know when you said you’d help if I ever needed it?”
“I don’t think I phrased it quite like that.”
“Yeah, well, I need your help.”
“What do you need and will it break any laws?”
I explained what had happened with the werelions and that I needed to go to Washington.
“And how does you needing to get to the capital mean you need my aid?”
“Do you happen to have a jet we could borrow?”
“A jet? Why do you assume I have a jet?”
I could hear her smile, even if I couldn’t see it. “Because for some reason vampire masters own jets. Maybe it’s because you really like to push your luck by flying too close to the sun. I have no idea. But if you have access to one, it would really help.”
“We do like to push our luck. Did you push yours with the energy I gave you?”
“I passed out in front of two cops.”
Felicia’s laugh was incredibly sexy, and a little annoying considering what I was asking her for. “I felt the energy leave me—now you know how we vampires feel if we don’t feed for a few days.”
I had to admit I had no idea that vampires who don’t feed would have that kind of reaction. No wonder they’re always on the lookout for the next meal.
“I do have a jet,” Felicia said, her voice suddenly serious. “How long do you need it?”
“Forty-eight hours, if possible.”
“Upon touchdown in D.C. the jet will develop mechanical issues that will take it several hours to fix. You have two days, any longer than that and I’ll have questions of my own to answer. I may be the vampire master to New York, but D.C. has its own vampires, and they will not like my arrival for too long.”
“Deal. Thank you, Felicia.”
“I’ll text you the address. And yes, you will owe me one. Or three or four, depending on how long you last the next time we meet under pleasant circumstances. I look forward to it, Nate.”
She hung up before I could reply, although I was pretty certain the memory of what she’d done to me last time was more than enough for me to agree pretty quickly. So long as there were no law enforcement around when I passed out.
My next call was to Tommy, who answered on the first ring, despite it being nearly 5 a.m. where he was. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Don’t come to Maine. There are werelions here.”
Tommy exhaled in one breath. “Fuck.”
“Yeah, that was my response too. That and ‘oh shit they have a cave troll.’ ”
“Look, Nate, if you need me there, you know I’ll have no issues pushing my luck. But if any of those lions has links to those in charge.…”
“I know, war.”
“I’m happy fighting a war with you, but not starting one. I lived through it once…I don’t like a lot of people’s chances for doing it again.”
“Stay in England. I’ve got help, and while I don’t think these lions want to start a war, I can’t risk it.”
“Keep in touch. And stay safe.”
“You too.” I ended the call and placed the phone in my pocket. Tommy really
would have risked war to come help me, but he had a family and I really wanted to avoid a global conflict.
Caitlin returned after four minutes and thirty-one seconds wearing jeans and a hoodie along with another pair of trainers. She opened my passenger car door and got in. “We’ll take yours, I’ve contacted my office and told them that I’ll be out of Stratford for a few days chasing a lead. To say my boss wasn’t enthusiastic to hear from me is an understatement. But I don’t think he’s all the bothered about where I am or what I’m doing, so long as it’s not bringing the Bureau into disrepute.”
“Excellent, we’ve got our transport sorted out. Just have to get to New York.”
“So, who are we talking to in D.C.?”
“Not we, me, and he may not even talk to me.”
“Why, how’d you piss him off?”
“Oh, I’m sort of asking for something illegal from him.”
“So, he could lose his job?”
I started the car’s engine. “No, his life.”
CHAPTER 14
Stratford, Maine. 1977.
I don’t think I passed out from the first five punches—I vaguely remember Simon still talking to me, still gloating about something or other. Simon had his cronies drag me into the house and I blacked out for a moment, waking up inside a cage. I said something, no idea what, but it was enough to piss off someone who kicked me in the head like it was made of leather and usually used to kick around a field.
“Nathan?” Bill shouted. “You okay?”
I raised a hand in what I hope was a thumbs up, but considering I couldn’t actually figure out where my hands were, I wasn’t a hundred percent certain.
I rubbed at my eyes and tried to get some of the fog to leave my brain, but I felt wetness when I touched my head. Someone had busted me open.
After what felt like hours, but was probably only a few seconds, I figured out where I was. Inside the same cage from earlier. My new home was six foot square, meaning I could lie down flat and not have to curl up. But it was only three feet high, so anything that required sitting level was out of the question.
I placed one hand against the bars and tried to heat them up, but it wouldn’t give.
“What’s wrong?” Bill called out, from what I noticed was the cage two over from mine.
“These are silver plated. I could probably break out using my magic, but the amount involved would incinerate the cage and pretty much anything else in this room. Not the best start to an escape attempt.”
“How’s your head? That Simon asshole hit you with something, some sort of glove I think.”
“Silver gauntlet, yeah I saw it. Several times in face.”
“Rean betrayed us? Goddamn troll bastard.”
“Got to admit, I didn’t see that one coming. Did they let him go?”
Bill nodded, and for the first time I noticed his swollen eye and split lip.
“How are you feeling?”
“I’m okay,” he said with an approximation of a grin that made him wince. “Apparently being lippy doesn’t hold a lot of ground with these assholes.”
With my head no longer feeling like a space shuttle was using it as a launch pad, I took in my surroundings. We were held in some kind of basement or cellar, stairs led up at the far end of the room, although there was no way of knowing where to. There were nine cages in all, including mine and Bill’s, each cage the same size, and all of them were occupied. Of the seven remaining, five were occupied by young women, and two by young men. None of them had to have been older than thirty, and all of them carried marks of torture, cuts, and bruises. They were all scared and watched me with a mixture of fear and trepidation. I could tell who had been there the shortest, their eyes still held hope of rescue.
The cage between mine and Bill’s held a woman with short brown hair. She wore dirty blue jeans and a t-shirt that was covered in cigarette burns, as were her arms and neck. She hugged herself tightly and sat as far back from the front of the cage as possible.
“My name’s Nathan,” I told her softly. “Yours?”
“Her name is Fern,” the young man in the other cage next to mine said.
I turned around, bumping my head on the thick bars twice. The man was probably a few years older than Fern, although the beard and disheveled appearance didn’t exactly help in guessing his age. He had similar burn marks on his black t-shirt, although I didn’t see any on his heavily tattooed arms or neck.
“And you are?” I asked.
“Glen,” he said.
“Have you both been here long?”
“Fern was here when they grabbed me. Which was maybe…three weeks ago. It’s hard to tell. You only ever see a clock or calendar when they take you upstairs. And then they just…they hurt you.”
I wasn’t sure I wanted an answer to my next question, “What do they do?”
“They cut you, beat you, put out cigarettes on you. It’s always that Simon guy who does the asking, and when he’s tired of you, or thinks you’re lying, he hands you over to one of his friends so that they can have their fun. Those brothers upstairs, the big guys, they always take the girls. They usually don’t come back.”
I filed the information away, for when I could devote all of my attention to the brothers and their crimes. “What do they ask you?”
“About the town, about the people in it and who I know. They ask about my tattoos. That seems to be the common theme. All of us have them, although they’re in different places. Simon only seems interested in where we got ours done, or how long ago.”
“Does he ask about a specific tattoo?”
Glen shook his head. “No, just about where we had them done. And about people we know in town with tattoos. No idea why.”
“Me neither,” I said mostly to myself. “What about the rest of the people down here? How are they faring?”
“Most are so out of it I don’t even think they know what day it is. And those that do just sleep or scream. You don’t want to sleep, but they put something in the water. So you die of thirst or you pass out. That’s when they come for you, when you can’t fight. This one girl refused to drink anything. She died about three days ago. I heard the two bastards talking about throwing the body into a cave for some troll or something.” Something caught Glen’s attention. “Didn’t you say you know a troll? Are they the same? Are trolls real? I thought it was a metaphor or something. I heard you mention magic too.”
“Hope you don’t have to find out.” I pointed to the grate behind Glen’s head. “So, anyone tried to escape?”
“One guy managed to pick the cage lock and even got an arm out there, screaming his head the whole time, but no one came. No one ever comes around here, except for that man in the suit. They have two rooms on the top floor, they’re sound proofed. It’s where they ask the questions.”
“Who was he, the man in the suit, I mean?”
Glen shrugged. “He doesn’t hurt anyone, just comes and pokes us and asks questions, the same ones as Simon. Then he leaves. Fern pleaded with him to let her go, but he just laughed at her. Since then she’s been really quiet.”
I glanced over to Fern who was picking at a freckle on her forearm.
“They broke her. They like that, they’re always really giddy when they finally break one of us.”
“How many upstairs?”
“Not sure, I’ve only seen Simon, the two big brutes and another three. Two of them are women. They’re almost as bad as the men. My dad, he used to tell me that when he was in Germany he could see the people who just lost it and were killing for fun. Those women up there, that’s how I imagine the soldiers my dad was talking about appeared. Just cold and emotionless, unless they’re killing. Then they’re smiling and joking and laughing. You can hear it, among all the screaming and pleading. Laughter.” Glen shook his head and wiped his eyes.
“We’re gonna get out of here, somehow.”
“Everyone new says that. The last guy managed three days before they killed him just to shut up his constant begging.”
“Yeah, well I’m a terrible beggar, but I’m an even worse prisoner.”
“So, do you have a plan?” Bill asked.
“Sort of,” I admitted. “I need everyone to make as much noise as possible. I need whoever is upstairs to come for us.”
“You’re asking people to put their lives on the line,” Bill said.
I nodded. “I know, but it’s our only chance, and if we don’t do it, we’re as good as dead anyway.”
“And once we get those psychos down here, what do we do?” Fern asked, having woken from her stupor.
I stared at her for a moment and felt the anger radiating off her in waves.
“Well, I plan on getting out and killing the whole fucking lot of them,” I told her.
Fern stared back, and for a second I thought she was going to glance away. “Make it hurt,” she said and started screaming.
At some point Fern’s screams encouraged the other captives join to in, creating a cacophony of noise that was sure to gain the attention of anyone in the house above. In fact, it only took a few seconds for the door to be flung open and light to bathe the steps.
“What the fucking hell are you lot doing?” shouted a gruff voice, which as he descended the steps I soon discovered belonged to one of the two brutes who’d held me down while Simon had gone to work.
No one stopped screaming or yelling, and the Brute made his way to the bottom of the stairs and walked over to Fern’s cage. “You want me to give you something to scream about again?” He smiled and turned to me. “She bucks and fights like a trooper. But damn is she ever sweet once she calms down.”
“I’m going to kill you,” I told him.
He laughed. It wasn’t the reaction I’d expected.
“You want me to open the cage and let you out? I’m not a fucking idiot.”
“Stupid enough to leave me with my magic.” I threw a whip of air through the bars and wrapped it around his neck, yanking him forward off his feet. He slammed onto the top of my cage, causing it to rock violently.
