The Haunted Hero: an adult urban fantasy (The Aria Fae Series Book 4)

by H. D. Gordon

  I pulled myself to my feet, feeling okay considering everything. The pain of the Demon’s Curse was subdued for now, and that meant I would need to get a move on. To do what, exactly, I didn’t know. Beyond these woods there was a vengeful human who wanted me to suffer, a Demon who thought I’d make a nice snack, and a city in the throes of madness, so obviously, some kind of action needed to be taken. My reprieve had officially ended.

  As I moved through the forest, I passed the body of Muriel, my smashed cellphone lying in similar ruins beside her. I turned away from the gruesome sight as my stomach gave a lurch. I wished I had a shovel, because though I hadn’t known the old woman, she surely deserved better than lying headless on the floor of the forest while scavengers picked at her bones.

  I decided that if I made it past the next twenty-four hours, I would return and lay her body to rest. With this, I continued on my way, intent on facing whatever fate had waiting for me.

  CHAPTER 29

  By the time I made it back to Grant City, the sun was beginning to set on another day. The shadows were lengthening, offering a cloak from prying eyes, allowing me to travel among the rooftops under the blanket of night.

  The curfew was still in effect, and most of the law-abiding citizens were tucking themselves away in their homes, holing up behind their locked doors and windows, trusting that eventually someone else would come along and put things back to rights.

  And why shouldn’t they? That was the way things worked within our society. Power lines go down? A man with a hardhat will show up to repair them. Water pipes burst and flood the area? A team will be there shortly to mend the pipes and clear the mess. A butthead sells his soul to a Demon in order to cause chaos and suffering? No worries. Your friendly neighborhood, mask-wearing vigilante will swoop in and shut him down. It was the way of things, and we all had our parts to play.

  I stopped by the lair first, suspecting that my friends were likely worried and gathered there in efforts to locate me, but when I swung through the office window and went to stand on the landing that overlooked the old storehouse, I saw that the place was empty save for its cobwebs and rodent inhabitants.

  A thread of dread weaved its way through my stomach, but I pushed it aside, assuring myself that my friends were just elsewhere, obeying the curfew in my absence.

  But it would be a lie to say that a renewed sense of emergency didn’t fill me. My movements now as I leapt and landed among the rooftops of Grant City were swifter, my focus tunneling in on the task of locating my loved ones. My next stop was Sam’s apartment building. If I could lay eyes on her, in particular, I would feel a lot better.

  It was funny how panic put things into perspective that way, how it drew out the people and things that truly took priority.

  Rather than alarm Sam’s father, Mr. Phillip Shy, I crept along the thin ledge that ran along the side of the building outside Sam’s bedroom window. I knew as soon as I pressed my palm against the window glass that she was not inside the darkened room. My heart gave a jarring little leap and panic threatened to crash over me again, but I bit down on it and crept along the ledge further still.

  A few moments later I was peeping like a creeper into the living room of Sam’s apartment, where her father sat with a book open on his lap and reading glasses perched on his nose. He looked so different from the drunken man I’d first met, and for the first time I could see some resemblance between him and his daughter.

  His daughter, who was not in this room, either. I leaned forward a little further on the ledge and peered into the kitchen area behind the living room where Mr. Shy sat, and saw that this was empty of Sam as well.

  The bathroom, I thought. Maybe she was in the bathroom.

  I waited a few moments in hopes that this theory would prove true, the wind tugging at me at the same time as a nervous sweat worked its way down my back. A minute passed. Then, two minutes. Sam did not emerge from the bathroom down the hall. I accepted with mounting panic that she was not here.

  Next, I went to my apartment building, intending to find Thomas and enlist him in the task of locating Sam. I had no real reason to be so concerned. It was very possible that Sam and the rest of them were just not in the two locations I’d checked…but when I arrived at my apartment, and Thomas was not there, either, I swallowed hard and allowed myself to admit that something was wrong here.

  I stood on the roof of my apartment building, the place where I’d spent many memorable moments talking, eating, and just being with Thomas Reid, where I’d overlooked a city I’d dared to call mine, where I’d lost my heart without even realizing it.

  As I gripped my knees and tried to catch my breath, sweat dripping down my brow and nerves running circles in my stomach, something accompanied the panic I was feeling. It was so rare an emotion for me that it took me a moment to pin down what I was feeling.

  If one were to observe my aura in that dark moment atop the rooftop, alone under the light of the moon and stars, they would’ve seen mostly red swirling in a cloud around me. I was so suddenly and unexpectedly full of rage that it seemed to be seeping out of my ears.

  It was one thing to target me. I’d made the choice to throw myself in harm’s way, had decided to wear the mask with every understanding of the dangers that accompanied it. My friends, however, my Sam and Thomas, were off limits, in my opinion. What I would never do for myself, I would do in a fraction of a heartbeat for either of them.

  I leapt over the edge of the rooftop to continue my search, and thought that God should help whoever stood between my goal and me.

  ***

  The Grind, the comic book store, Matt’s house, Caleb’s house, the pizza shop we sometimes enjoyed a slice at. All were empty of my people. I had stopped at a payphone—more difficult to locate a working one in this day and age than one might think—and called every number I knew. None of them were received. I slammed the phone back into its cradle hard enough to render yet another pay phone in Grant City worthless, and cursed through my teeth.

  I ran a hand down my face, swiping some of the sweat off my forehead, biting my lip hard enough to taste blood. An idea struck me and I was off again, racing toward the place I’d last seen them all, moving fast enough to appear as just a blur among the shadows of the night.

  The sun had completely disappeared behind the horizon by the time I made it to Grant City General Hospital. I didn’t bother walking through the front doors. Instead, I climbed up the side of the building and peered in the window of Rosemary’s office, sighing with a bit of relief when I saw the doc sitting at her desk inside, looking over paperwork.

  When I knocked gently on the glass, Dr. Reid jumped about a foot in the air, her hazel eyes going wide and her hand flying up to clutch over her heart. When she saw it was just me, she exhaled heavily and shook her head before pushing the window open and allowing me to swing in.

  “Dear Lord, Aria,” Rosemary said. “You and your friends are going to give me a heart attack if you keep that up. There are these things called doors, and they’re really useful.” She eyed me, concern flooding your aura. “Um, you shouldn’t be out of bed right now. You were struck by lightning—twice. Do you have a death wish?”

  I didn’t have time for this nonsense, and I opened my mouth to tell her so, but instead ended up in a coughing fit. Rosemary snatched up some tissues off her desk and handed them to me. When I gained control over myself and pulled the tissues away from my mouth, they were unsurprisingly covered in red.

  “My God,” Rosemary said. “Aria, what the hell is going on?”

  “I’m dying,” I told her simply. “But that’s not a concern right now. Where is Thomas? Where is Sam? Are they still here?”

  Rosemary’s perfect brows pulled together in confusion. “Last I saw them was when I saw you, and told you not to get up from your hospital bed. They were all hovering around outside your room, but when I came to check on you an hour or so later—it’s been so hectic here the past week and I couldn’t break away unt
il then—all of them, including you, were gone. I figured you just took off like you always do.” She paused. “Is Tommy alright?”

  I didn’t have the energy to sugarcoat things. “I hope so,” I said.

  “What about the others? Have you asked them where he went when they left?”

  I sighed, my stomach feeling queasy. “I can’t find them,” I said, and the words sounded so awful to my own ears.

  Rosemary stared at me a moment, and in her aura I saw my concern mirrored. “What do mean you can’t find them? None of them?”

  I only looked at her, afraid that if I spoke, it would be a clipped, harsh answer, and this wasn’t her fault. If anything, it was mine. I was the genius who’d run off to escape the pressure for a little bit. I was the one who’d left them vulnerable. This was my mess, and I was going to clean it up.

  “I’ve gotta go,” I told Rosemary, and jumped up onto the sill of her open office window.

  “Wait,” Rosemary said, unable to mask the alarm in her voice. “What are you going to do?”

  I met her gaze, so like her brother’s, and said, “Whatever I have to.”

  Then, I let myself be swallowed back up by the night as I swallowed down a mouthful of blood and ignored the swarm of angry dead people who were beginning to blink back into existence around me.

  Seemed the twenty-four hour time table the tiny Fae had given me had been an exaggeration, but that didn’t matter. I was going to end this thing one way or the other, and Demon’s Curse or no, I would not allow myself to die until after.

  ***

  There was only one other place I hadn’t checked, and I hoped beyond hope that my friends were gathered there, though I knew the likelihood was slim. I seemed to be growing weaker with every passing moment, and the amount of energy I was burning by running all over the city wasn’t making things any easier.

  I fell into another coughing fit as I reached the edge of the Cross Manor grounds, with its sprawling green lawns and manicured hedges, the imposing main house standing in the middle of it all like a centerpiece. I bent double, one hand covering my mouth, the other clutched around my waist. This time it was not just blood that came up with the coughs, but vomit, as well. It was black and thick and splattered the grass at my feet.

  My vision was blurry with both tears and vertigo. When I straightened and finally caught my breath, it was to see Chris Cross, Caleb’s brother, staring at me. He was wearing expensive slacks and a polo shirt, and held a black leash that was connected to a large black dog. The dog was looking at me with a lowered head, its nose testing the air and no doubt sensing the sickness around me.

  “Aria?” Chris said, his blue eyes running the length of me. “What are you doing here?”

  I tried to appear as normal as was possible considering everything.

  “Is Caleb home?” I asked. “I need to see him.”

  From his aura, I knew that Caleb’s brother didn’t trust me, nor was he particularly fond of me. At the moment, I couldn’t care less. On top of that, the feelings were mutual.

  For a moment, I thought he was going to tell me to leave, that I couldn’t see his brother, and to get off the property before I was removed. But while his aura revealed his urge to say these things, his mouth pulled up in a smile and he waved a hand toward the manor.

  “Of course,” Christopher Cross told me. “Any friend of Caleb’s.”

  He began heading toward the house without finishing the saying. I was willing to bet that this was no mistake.

  CHAPTER 30

  From the very first time I came in contact with Caleb Cross’s family, they’d represented mystery after mystery for me. Even though Caleb and I were not on the best of terms currently, I felt as though I had gotten legitimately close to him in the time that I’d know him. His family, on the other hand, had found themselves near the top of my suspect-to-evil-doing list.

  “The city is under a curfew at the moment,” Chris said as we trudged toward the main house. “You’re aware of this, no?”

  I had to work to keep my voice even. “I’m aware,” I said.

  Chris looked at me from the corners of his blue eyes. “I thought you two were done,” he said.

  I suppressed a sigh. “We’re friends.”

  Chris came to an abrupt stop, and I had to pull up short to keep from running into him. He turned and looked at me fully for the first time since we’d started walking, and I braced myself as I saw there was anger swirling around in his aura.

  “You have no idea how badly you hurt him, do you?” he said, his lips twisting in disgust. “You’re friends? You can’t be friends with someone who breaks your heart.”

  I wasn’t sure what I’d been expecting, but this was not it, and I stood for a moment with my mouth agape, trying to find words that wouldn’t come. When they finally did, they sounded as lame to my own ears as they surely did to Chris’s.

  “I never meant to hurt Caleb,” I said.

  Chris snorted and resumed walking toward the house. I silently told myself several times that running away right now was not an option, now matter how awkward Chris’s outburst made stepping into Cross Manor.

  When we got there, entering through the tall double doors that let in on the impressive foyer, we found Dr. Christian Cross just returning from somewhere. A smile came to his face as he took sight of me, and I forced a smile to my lips as well.

  “Aria,” said Dr. Cross, “what a pleasant surprise.”

  “It’s good to see you, Doctor,” I lied.

  He nodded. “Well, if you’re here for Caleb, I’m afraid he’s not here.”

  My heart sank. “Do you happen to know where he went, sir?” I asked.

  Dr. Cross grinned broadly, showing two rows of perfectly straight and white teeth. I jumped a little as Chris locked the double doors behind us and coughed into the crook of my elbow, where the dark material of my jacket absorbed the blood. I was having a difficult time focusing, had to keep blinking to clear my eyes.

  I realized with a jolt that I had just waltzed into what could very well be enemy territory, weak under the curse of a Demon, and on a timetable that was dwindling with each passing moment. I swallowed and shifted a bit on my feet.

  “If Caleb’s not here,” I said, “I should really be going.”

  “Nonsense,” said Dr. Cross. “Stay a while. Let’s have us a little chat.”

  By his tone, and the way Chris was standing between the double doors that led outside and me, I could see this was not a request.

  ***

  Sure, I could’ve punched them both in the face, knocked them unconscious and escaped, but I thought that might be jumping the gun. The Brokers had taught me that shooting first and asking questions later was a good way to cause trouble for oneself, so for the moment I only nodded and followed Dr. Cross and his hovering oldest child into an impressive study.

  Shelves made up three of four walls, and stacked neatly among them were books and more books. A large desk took up a good portion of the room and the lighting was low with an orange hue that somehow made the space seem inappropriately intimate.

  Dr. Cross sat on the edge of the imposing desk and gestured for me to take a seat in one of the chairs across from him. I did as I was directed, but positioned myself on the edge of the chair, ready to pop up at any moment. I felt a little like a mouse that has wandered into a trap, and was just waiting for the spring to pop.

  “You’ll have to forgive me, Dr. Cross,” I said, “but I really am in a hurry.”

  “Of course you are,” he replied. “Running around Grant City in a cape and mask must be terribly time consuming.”

  He looked over at Chris, who was standing by the door to the study, and looked back at me. Meeting the doctor’s gaze, I opened my mouth to tell him I had no idea what he was talking about, but he beat me to the punch.

  “I’ve known for a while, Aria,” Dr. Cross said, “so there’s point in playing dumb.”

  My jaw clenched, but I tilted my head bac
k and refused to flinch. “I guess we both know some of each other’s secrets,” I said.

  “Is that so?” asked Dr. Cross. “And what is it you know about me?”

  I considered my response just briefly and decided on bluntness. I was more than ready to unwrap the enigma that was Dr. Christian Cross and his all-powerful enterprise, the Cross Corporation. I was sick of playing games, and just sick, in general.

  “I know you’ve got something to do with the kidnappings of women in Grant City,” I said. “I know about your underground laboratories where you experiment on Halflings, and then create tragic messes like the Blue Beast, and leave them for other people to clean up.”

  I could feel my rage building. I knew I should probably just shut my mouth and leave it there, but now that I’d started, I couldn’t seem to stop.

  “I know you’re messing with things no mortal should mess with, and that there’s clearly someone even bigger and badder than you who’s pulling all the chains.” I stopped to cough into the crook of my arm. “And I know you’re an evil son of a bitch, because I can see it all in your aura.”

  Dr. Cross’s expression revealed nothing—no surprise, no outrage, nothing. But his aura told a different story. His aura revealed that if he had the liberty, he would shoot me dead right now. It was a murderous quality that he shared with his eldest son. The question was, why didn’t he have the liberty? What did I have that he needed?

  A thought struck me like a bolt of lightning.

  “Where’s Caleb?” I asked, and I got an answer from the way the doctor’s eye twitched. My heart sank like a stone in my chest. “Tell me where he is.”

  For the first time since we’d entered the house, Chris spoke. He pushed off from the door where he’d been leaning and strode over to me with rage lining every inch of his person.