Pressing back into the shadows, I waited for him to step out of the bedroom where everyone seemed to be hiding. His hands shook as he held the gun, and for a split second I almost felt sorry for him. Everyone knew that monsters existed, but all the monsters I knew did their level best to police their own kind, thus reducing their interactions with humans as much as possible. I couldn’t imagine what it would feel like to stare out the window at something that should never have existed, and knowing that the worst possible outcome meant that I would have to face it.
I wrapped my arms around his neck as he passed me in the shadows, applying just enough pressure to cut off his air supply. He never made a sound as his body went limp in my grip. He wasn’t dead, and when Samira glanced over at me with a wide-eyed look I shook my head.
“Stay here,” I whispered, my voice so low that it took a moment for her to understand.
She nodded, and I moved toward the bedroom door. The guard I’d just knocked out didn’t have iron bullets—the smell wasn’t something I could miss, especially in such close proximity to him—but that didn’t mean Mrs Archer wasn’t still packing Fae-killing bullets.
Reaching the door, I didn’t hesitate, and my booted foot drove the wood into the soft plaster of the wall with a loud crack. I dived into the room, and the remaining two guards lay at my feet in a matter of seconds. The Archers were now the only ones left, and Nancy held the same gun she’d used on me the previous night.
“If you come any closer, I will shoot,” she said.
“You’ll be dead before you ever get the chance,” I answered, my skin crawling as I remembered the iron bullet’s damage.
Her hands shook, and the gun rattled in her grip. “Mrs Archer, put the gun down, I just want to talk,” I said, this time with a placating tone. I needed to be careful or else she might accidentally pull the trigger, and I really didn’t feel like digging another one of those bullets out of my body.
“You killed them,” she said, her eyes flicking to the two motionless guards.
That one slip of her attention was all I needed, and I darted toward her, my hand closing around the gun before she had the chance to tighten her finger and pull the trigger. A small scream escaped her lips as she fell away from me, leaving me with the gun in my hands.
“I don’t want to die,” she said.
“I’m not here to kill you. I just want to know who told you about me. Who told you I was Fae?”
She shook her head, her face ashen, and darted a glance at the bed. Henry Archer lay beneath the covers, his face as pale as hers, the deep purple circles beneath his closed eyes standing out in stark relief against the rest of his face. His breaths were deep and even, but something about his appearance set all the alarm bells in my head ringing.
“He was fine last night. What happened?”
“She came back…” Nancy’s voice broke across the words.
“Who came back?”
“I didn’t know what you were, I swear I didn’t. I didn’t even know what she was, and she promised me a way to get rid of Martina… and that’s all I wanted, not this. I wanted my husband back, I wanted a fresh start for us…” She babbled on, the snippets I could make sense of causing the hairs to stand on the back of my neck.
“Who is she?” I asked again, keeping the question simple, as though I were talking to a child.
“She’s like you… Or at least she looks a little like you… her hair… and when she screamed, Henry just collapsed…”
My stomach dropped and my heartbeat thundered in my chest. It couldn’t be. It wasn’t possible. Well, it was, but it didn’t make any sense. I crossed the floor and leaned over the bed.
“Leave him alone, you’ve done enough!” Her voice was bordering on hysteria.
Lifting one bruised eyelid, I stared down into what had once been Henry Archer’s blue eyes. There was no white left in them; trauma had caused the blood vessels in his eyes to burst. A small, bloody tear trickled down the side of his cheek. The iris was ruined, the blue split by the capillaries and turning what had probably been a very attractive set of eyes into little more than a ruined mess. Turning his head gently to the side, I caught sight of the dried blood encrusted on the inner rim of his ear.
Whoever she was had done just enough to cause permanent brain damage.
Nancy Archer might have wanted a fresh start for her marriage, but I was pretty sure this wasn’t what she’d had in mind.
She slammed into me, her fists crashing against my back It didn’t hurt; there was no strength behind it. Turning toward her, I caught her hands and pushed her firmly backwards.
“This wasn’t me,” I said calmly, but she shook her head and continued to sob. “This isn’t my fault. You asked me to find your husband, and I took that job in good faith. You set me up, so everything that happened after that is on you.” My words were harsh, but true. I hadn’t caused any of this to happen, so why the hell couldn’t I shake the feeling of guilt that was trying to claw its way up the back of my throat?
“Will he recover?” she asked, scrubbing the back of her hand across her eyes like a small child. Except a small child wouldn’t have worn so much eye makeup that was now smeared across her cheeks.
I shook my head. What had happened to Henry Archer was beyond cruel. There would be no recovery…and if the legends were true, then as he lay there, silent as the grave, he could still hear the terrifying wail that had reduced him to this husk.
“Is he suffering?” Her words caught me off guard, as though she’d managed to pluck the thoughts straight from my head.
“If the stories are true, then yes…” She covered her mouth with her hand, muffling the sounds of her sobs. “But I cannot say with any real certainty.”
Crossing the room to his side, she dropped onto the bed next to him, her hand tracing down the side of his cheek. “I’m so sorry…” she sobbed.
“Who told you to contact me?” I asked. “Who gave you the gun?”
“She didn’t give me her name,” Nancy said, continuing to stroke her husband’s face.
A frustrated sigh escaped me, and I balled my hands into fists. At the rate I was going, I would find no answers, and whoever tried to have me killed would be free to try again.
“But she asked me to meet with a man, and he was the one who supplied me with the gun…” She trailed off, and I fought the urge to shake the answer from her. “She called him Mac-something… I can’t really remember…”
My heart sank. “It wasn’t MacNa, was it?”
“Yes, I met him down on Castle Street.”
Castle Street wasn’t anywhere near where I’d confronted him, but it wasn’t far from the bar Clary had told me to check out. Just what the hell was MacNa doing working with another banshee? And not just any banshee, but one who apparently wanted me dead?
“Is there anything you can do? Can’t you reverse what she did to him?”
I shook my head and focused in on a second bloody tear trailing down Henry’s cheek. The more I focused on him, the more I could feel his torment. He was locked within his own head, trapped with the wail of the banshee until his body finally gave up. If his heart was strong, it would be some time before he was granted that kind of reprieve.
“Why didn’t she just kill him?” she asked, turning to face me.
“I don’t know, I guess she wanted you both to suffer.” I didn’t have the answers, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t do what I was meant to.
“I can ease his passage.” The words fell from my lips before I had the chance to stop them.
“Kill him?” Her eyes widened.
“I wouldn’t kill him. I would invite death to take him… It works on those who are close to the end, whose suffering is too great to endure. I intercede on their behalf.”
She hesitated, contemplating my words before finally shaking her head. “No, it feels too much like giving up.”
An agonised scream split the air, and I turned to find Samira standing in the doorway,
her expression strained.
“I don’t know how it broke free, Darcey, it shouldn’t have happened…” I knew what she meant without asking her to elaborate.
“Shit,” I yelled, racing for the door. I pushed past Samira and took the stairs two at a time. The screaming hadn’t stopped, but it had changed—it sounded wetter, more frantic, and I knew without having to lay eyes on the scene what was happening. Ripping open the front door, I stared out at the driveway. The cop cars’ lights cast an odd glow on the driveway, which only served to brighten and highlight the spill of fresh blood across the gravel.
I followed the trail of smeared blood until I found what I was looking for. The creature it lifted its dark, soulless gaze to me, the lower half of its rotted face covered in the bright blush of crimson blood. And for one painful second, I could have sworn it smiled at me.
Samira squeezed through the doorway, and the creature’s weighty gaze fell on her. What remained of its lips peeled back from its mouth as it snarled before snatching the still-struggling form of the man it had been feeding on and dragging him away into the trees surrounding the property.
Chapter Twenty
“I said this was a bad idea.” I wasn’t really addressing Samira, more voicing my thoughts aloud, but from the way she stiffened next to me I knew she’d taken my words personally.
“It shouldn’t have been able to break free. I don’t know what happened…”
“Creatures like that are unpredictable. You were hurt and—” She cut me off with a wave of her hand.
“Don’t make excuses for me. This is my fault.”
Biting my tongue, I turned to stare out at the injured cops and guards that surrounded us.
“I think we’ve got bigger problems,” I said as I heard a bullet being loaded into the chamber of a nearby gun. Lifting my hands slowly, I tried to look as unthreatening as possible.
“We can help. I can catch that thing if you’ll just let me.” I allowed my voice to carry over the sudden silence.
“We’re supposed to arrest you on sight,” a voice called from the crowd of hostile officers. “You’re the banshee that escaped from custody this morning.”
“Yup. And none of that matters one little bit right now. That thing that just dragged your friend off into the night? It’s not going to stop with just him. It’ll come back for the rest of you, and then it will start on civilians. I’m telling you now—I can catch it. I can stop it.”
I sounded way more confident than I actually felt. Samira said the Hortlak could only be stopped with an iron blade while feeding, and from the look of glee I had just seen on its face I wasn’t going to count on it holding still long enough for me to send it back to Hell where it belonged.
“There was another who looked like you,” the voice from the crowd said. “She said something to it, and it went nuts and started ripping into anyone it could reach. How do we know you won’t make it worse?”
My stomach churned. I was really getting sick of my doppelganger showing up and screwing with my life. Being framed for murder was certainly bad enough, but being suspected of setting a Hortlak loose on a group of unsuspecting cops was something else entirely.
“That wasn’t me. I have no interest in letting it hurt you or anyone else.” I left out the part where Samira and I had been the ones to raise it.
A rumble of dissension ran through the men and women surrounding us before one of the cops stepped forward. He moved with a limp, and as he came closer I could see why. The creature hadn’t just decided to chow down on one of the officers; I could tell from the torn leg of his pants and the ragged bites on his calf that it had tasted him before moving on.
“Go, stop it,” he said. “Stop it before there’s nothing left of Benny to bring back to his wife and kids.”
He didn’t need to ask me twice, and I spun on my heel and started after the creature. Samira wasn’t far behind me, and the sound of footsteps indicated she wasn’t the only one following me into the darkness.
Pausing next to the tree line, I turned to face Samira and the handful of cops who were able to follow me. It was a ragtag bunch who didn’t look capable of taking down a shoplifter, never mind a hungry Hortlak.
“It’s too dangerous,” I said to Samira. “You need to stay here.”
She shook her head, drawing a frustrated sigh from me.
“This is my fault. I need to set it right.”
“I don’t want to have to worry about that thing hurting you,” I said. “I can heal. You’re still human, and I can move faster alone. Time is of the essence here.”
She started to shake her head again, but I silenced her with a glance. “I need you out here to protect the others. If this thing gets away from me and circles back, you can trap it.” It was a stretch. I had no idea if she could actually trap it, but considering she’d conjured and bound it to herself in the first place, I was hedging my bets.
Her expression was unhappy, but I didn’t care. I’d much rather be unhappy than dead any day of the week, and if she followed me into the darkness with that thing on the loose, dead was all she would be.
“Fine,” she said.
“Keep the rest of them here too,” I said, before turning and disappearing into the trees.
Angry shouts followed me, but they were quickly swallowed up by the dense trees.
The wet, gurgling screams of the Hortlak’s victim had stopped, leaving me with no clear sense of direction.
“Need some help?” Lunn’s voice came out of the darkness, and I sprang sideways like a startled cat.
“I could have stabbed you,” I said, readjusting my grip on the Bone Blade that had just magically materialised in my hand.
“I trust you not to try something so foolish.” The humour in Lunn’s voice was unmistakable. His green and gold eyes glittered in the darkness and were the only part of him I could make out. Staring at him a little harder, I could just make out the shimmering edges of the glamour he was using to bend what little light there was around his body to conceal himself from human eyes.
“I don’t need help, especially not from someone who only a few hours ago was going to hand me over to the Faerie Court for something I didn’t even do.”
Lunn laughed, the sound wrapping around me and sending a shiver of warmth sliding deep into my core.
“You’re not particularly forgiving, are you?”
“Nope.”
“Well I’m here now, so I may as well help.”
“Suit yourself,” I said, creeping forward.
“You’re going the wrong way. Can’t you smell the blood?”
I halted and sighed. “I wasn’t once worshiped as a god of war and destruction, so I can’t say I’ve really honed my bloodhound tendencies.”
He didn’t answer. His shoulders grew tense as he turned and moved through the trees in the opposite direction. Clearly, he wasn’t the type who could take it as good as he could dish it.
Catching up and then moving past him, I stretched my legs as my pace picked up. I focused my attention on the only thing that mattered. A loud crack filled the air, sending a shiver of revulsion racing down my spine. I’d have known the sound of bones breaking anywhere; I still had nightmares about the sounds of my own dry bones snapping beneath the ministrations of the Faerie Court punishers.
Lunn’s hand caught me beneath my elbow, and he drew me backwards. “There’s no point in racing in there. The human is already dead.” He drew in a deep breath that sent the gold in his eyes spiralling down until his pupils were nothing more than two tiny pinpricks of black light.
“True, but the Hortlak has to die.” I reluctantly attempted to shake off his grip.
“Do you have an iron blade on you?” he asked.
“I always do.” I drew the blade from the protective leather sheath I’d had made especially for it. The last thing I needed was for the sheath to split and the iron to burn through my skin. Singed flesh had a particular aroma, and when you were out chasing down rogue
Fae, staying inconspicuous was always an asset.
Lunn’s eyes widened as he stared down at the sharpened blade that was almost as long as his forearm. The handle was wrapped in soft leather and sealed with one of Noree’s enchantments, which allowed me to hold it without having to worry about getting hurt. Of course, if I found myself on the wrong side of the blade, like any of the Fae I hunted, it would kill me just as it would any of the iron-cursed.
Pulling free of Lunn’s grip, I broke through the cover of the trees and into the small clearing where the Hortlak had chosen to finish its meal. My stomach rolled as I caught sight of it gnawing on one end of what had once been a leg, but I buried my thoughts and took a step toward the creature.
The Hortlak tossed the limb aside and darted toward me, its upper body contorting and twisting around at the waist. It scuttled forward on all fours like some sort of possessed crab. I drew up the blade, but the Hortlak leaped, catching one of the trees before launching itself past my shoulder.
Before I could turn to face it once more, the Hortlak landed on my back, driving me face-first into the dirt. I felt its loose, rotten teeth sink into my shoulder and drive against my collar bone, causing a ragged scream to tear from my lips.
The Hortlak scrambled away from me, and the bite stung my shoulder as I forced myself to my hands and knees.
Lunn dropped from the trees, crashing down on top of the Hortlak with enough force to crush even the strongest of Fae. But the Hortlak wasn’t a Fae—it didn’t need its lungs to draw breath, and its skeleton wasn’t being held together by the rotted tendons and muscles hanging loose. Until Samira’s magic link was severed and it was sent back to the ground, the Hortlak would continue to have the upper hand.
Lunn’s voice bellowed out through the trees, scattering the birds. The Hortlak’s bony fingers tore at his leg, behaving more like talons than true fingers as the lack of flesh made it easier to get a grip.
Banshee Blues (Bones and Bounties Book 1) Page 12
