by Raquel Lyon
How could she have kept this from me?
Perhaps she hadn’t known. After all, our schedule had been pretty hectic and her time could easily have passed without her realising something was amiss. And wouldn’t she have told me if she had? Or maybe she had known and had kept quiet on purpose, thinking I’d make a shit father. She’d probably have been right on that score. I was a werewolf with no job who dossed down in the woods and was in love with a woman who wasn’t the child’s mother. But Charlotte hadn’t known any of that about me back then, so that couldn’t have been the reason.
Maybe she’d tried to tell me.
I thought back to our last month together and fast forwarded to the very last day: the day we went to London.
Damn it! Was that what she’d wanted to talk about that morning? It could have been. And I’d blown her off. Fuck! If I’d known she was pregnant, I would never have allowed her to put herself in danger. Was that why she’d been hesitant to go inside the club? Been annoyed at my taking the risk?
Why hadn’t I been able to tell there was something wrong?
Crap, my head was throbbing like a bitch. Demons and monsters I could handle, but a baby? No, I couldn’t be a dad. Stuff like that hadn’t even crossed my mind yet. I was only twenty-six. I wasn’t ready. Fatherhood was so out of my comfort zone. Christ, was this how my own father had felt when he’d found out about me? Was it a case of like father, like son?
I pushed from the wall and turned slowly back to Charlotte. From her expression, I guessed she’d been watching me the whole time.
“What’s wrong?” she asked. “Why are you staring at me like that?”
I couldn’t believe she hadn’t made the connection herself, but then she had no memory of our hot, steamy nights together, and the words to enlighten her stuck in my throat and refused to come out. It was probably for the best. In my confused state I was bound to say the wrong thing, and maybe I was mistaken about the whole business anyway. It was entirely possible she could have met someone else after me and the kid had been premature. Slim, but possible. “I… just never had you down as the motherly type, that’s all.”
“I suppose you don’t think me capable.”
“It’s not that. It’s just… well… I think you have a job that doesn’t mesh well with motherhood.”
“Oh, so now I’m an unfit mother?”
Yep, said the wrong thing. Who’da thought? “I didn’t say that, either. Stop putting words in my mouth. As far as I know, you could simply have neglected to mention there’s a stay-at-home dad somewhere in the picture.” However remote the possibility, I felt compelled to throw it out there. I had to know for sure. “Is there?”
“I don’t want to talk about his father.”
“Why not?”
“It’s none of your business.”
None of my business! Was she serious? Did that mean she knew who it was, and that it wasn’t me?
“But I’m your friend, Char.”
“A friend who’s lied to and kept secrets from me. Some friend.”
“Tell me, Charlotte. Tell me there’s someone in your life you can count on.”
“There is. Me.”
“That’s not what I meant. Are you purposely being awkward?”
“No, I’m wondering why you care so much. Is it to make yourself feel better about abandoning me?”
“I didn’t mean to—”
Unfortunately, Travers chose that precise moment to float through the wall and place himself between us, causing Charlotte’s image to blur and warp as if I were looking at her through murky, moving water—which about summed up the whole situation, quite honesty.
“I do hope I’m not interrupting anything,” Travers said, glancing expectantly at each of us in turn. Neither Charlotte nor I gratified his comment with a response. If he was after a piece of juicy gossip, he was onto a loser. I wasn’t about to fuel his imagination. “No? Ah, well…” Making no attempt to hide his disappointment, his attention turned to the table. “Miss Green might be resisting your charms, but someone is continuing to command your attention, I see.”
I had neither the energy nor the inclination to humour him. “I was hoping you’d come to tell me you’d discovered who.”
“Mr Du Mont has that information.”
As if on cue, Travers’ ghostly outline flickered in and out of focus as Yanis arrived using a more conventional method, and a blast of cold air accompanied the door opening. He walked straight past me and over to the stove, where he rubbed his hands vigorously in front of it before linking them behind his back as he turned to speak.
“Chilly night.” He smiled. “I apologise for the delay. I hope you are well rested.”
I nodded politely, even though I was anything but. I had no interest in small talk and wished he’d get to the point. “Any news?”
“The results were rather disappointing, I’m afraid. Despite the Pryer’s best efforts, we were unable to obtain a positive identity on the suspect.”
He had to be joking. “What… nothing?”
“There appears to be a stronger force at work than we first thought.”
“Why doesn’t that surprise me?”
He took a couple of steps closer to me and raised his chin. “I don’t know. Why doesn’t it, Mr Lovell?”
I shied from his disconcerting gaze and perched on the rim of the table, arms folded. “Well, from what I’ve learned so far, there are a few things going on that you don’t realise—either that or you’ve kept them quiet.”
“Such as?”
“Such as, my involvement being more by design than out of a need for experience.”
His gaze angled over my shoulder to the table. “You are referring to the branding of your name. I admit I could have been more forthcoming with the facts.”
“So you knew about that before you arranged our first meeting?”
“There had been a couple of similar instances in Chester and London. Which is why we had to bring you in on the case.”
Behind him, I caught Charlotte flinch at the word London, but she composed herself before anyone but me noticed. Had she been there? Maybe that was where she’d been living with her son when he’d been abducted. I distinctly remembered her saying it was a good place to bring up a child.
My arms straightened and I gripped the table’s edge for support. Shit! That was what she’d meant that morning, the start of the conversation we should have had. It all made sense now. The kid was definitely mine. And he was missing. He could even be dead, hanging from a tree somewhere. Poor sod.
“There was talk amongst the ranks,” Yanis said, “that you were behind the whole thing, that you left your name as… let’s say… a calling card.”
His words tore my mind away from morbid thoughts and brought them kicking and screaming back to the room. “Me? You think I’m responsible? Are you mad?”
“Relax, Mr Lovell. Our informants at the Towers confirmed your whereabouts on the days in question.”
Yeah, I bet they did. Damn pixies.
“But that did leave us with the conundrum of precisely how you were involved. It is a puzzle we would very much like to solve.”
“You and me both, but you should have told me the truth instead of cooking up lies about Hell takeovers and gleaners to get me here.”
“That was no lie. I have already stated the takeover was supposition, as we had very little else to go on, and the evidence lying only feet away is proof of gleaner activity—though his interference has been irritating at best, and annoying at worst—and when our demon problem is eradicated, he will move on. I had heard you were missing that part of your life, and I merely stated his activities to pique your interest in the case.”
“Along with issuing threats to ensure that I took it.”
“Precisely. The safety of our community is the primary concern here, not you or I or your cousin. You understand now what a key role you have in it all, and everything that was said, was said for the right reasons. A
sking nicely was not an option. Whoever the woman behind this is, she needs to be stopped, and we believe you are the man to do it.”
“You do believe it’s a woman, then?”
“Oh, yes.” Yanis ran a finger along the curve of the C in my carved name, and then studied his fingers as he scraped away a splinter with his thumb. “The memories we were able to pull showed us that much, but she was cloaked in a dark magic that blurred her features.”
“In other words, you got nothing more than we already know, and it was all a big waste of time.”
His head whipped up. “Not exactly. She whispered your name.”
Of course she did. There hadn’t been a death without my name attached to it recently. “Big surprise.”
“And she said something else, immediately before piercing the dagger into the boy’s father.”
“Oh, yeah? Anything interesting?”
“It was in an extinct dialect, taken from a dimension that has been abandoned for centuries. It took some of our best translators to decipher it. Perhaps it might mean something to you.”
“Go on. What did she say?”
“This is how it has to end.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
As he gauged my reaction, Yanis’s stare was so unyielding it was hard to keep my nerve under it. The words did seem familiar, but I couldn’t think why. I was also wondering what my connection to the dead dude was. I was sure I’d never met him, but I supposed he could have simply got too close to the action or seen something he shouldn’t. Collateral damage, so to speak.
Yanis was still waiting for an answer.
I shook my head. “Nope. No, I can’t say that it does, sorry.”
“That is most unfortunate,” he said. “Today’s incident has put me behind on my workload, and I’d rather hoped it would be for good reason.” He waved a hand over the dusty remains on the floor, and they vanished before my eyes. “Please do not waste my time again, Miss Green. You know how to contact me if you have an actual breakthrough. Until then, I bid you a peaceful night.”
I held the door open as he and Travers joined with the two wolves standing guard outside. When they left the clearing, I shut out the cold, sank into the dining chair, and cradled my head in my hands.
Peaceful night, my ass. This whole thing was a fucked-up nightmare. Until now, my only goal was to find a damn demon and kill it in order to get the Assembly off my back and get on with my life, but the goalposts had changed. Now it was personal. This woman knew me, and, whether he was dead or not, she had my son.
Shit! Nightmare. That was it. That was where I’d heard the words before. I jumped up and swayed a little as alcohol-fuelled blood rushed to my head.
“I’ve got it. I don’t know why I didn’t see it before,” I said.
Charlotte looked at me as if I’d grown another head. “See what?”
“I had a dream.”
“What are you talking about?” she asked as I went to pour a glass of water. If I was right, I needed to sober up, and fast.
“I think it was a sign.”
“Are you saying you’re psychic now?”
“No. Maybe. I don’t know. The dream was about my girl.”
I took a huge gulp of ice-cold liquid and almost choked on it as she leaned her head back against the sofa cushion and yawned out the words, “I really don’t need to hear about your wet dreams.”
“It wasn’t that kind of dream. She was stabbed, but right before it happened, she said the same words.”
“What words?” she asked sleepily.
“Weren’t you listening to Yanis? The ones the woman said. ‘This is how it has to end’.”
Her eyes drifted closed as she replied, “I’m sure it’s just a coincidence.”
“I’m not. We have to go back to the Third.”
“Why?”
I couldn’t allow Charlotte to fall asleep, not now. Not when we had work to do. I set my glass down and went to sit beside her with a jolt. “As screwed up as it sounds, I think the bitch is going to my home.” For some reason she’d taken my son, who was probably still with her, and now she was going after the rest of my family. I could feel it, and I had to stop her before they all ended up dead.
Charlotte’s head shot up, and her face screwed as if Pus Face’s stench had left its mark on me. “Why would she do that?”
“Best guess? I’m last on her list. Until then, she’s fucking with me, leaving me a trail, keeping me one step behind as she goes about her killing spree. If I’m here, I’m out of the way of her next goal.”
“What goal?”
“This was never about the kidnappings. It’s about me. I’ve no idea why, but those people were pawns in a game. She might have started by killing people I barely know, but if I don’t stop her, she’s going to finish with everyone I’ve ever loved. They’ll all die, ending with my girl”—or my son, but I couldn’t tell Charlotte that—“and I’m sure as hell not going to let that happen.”
“That’s some theory. You really believe it?”
“Yes. Yes, I do. She wants to see me suffer, and then she’ll taunt me with it, right before dealing the final blow.” My jaw clenched as I ran my fingers through my hair. “Whoever this woman is, it’s time to bring her personal vendetta against me to an end.”
“Well, that’s one thing I can agree with,” Charlotte said, “but in your scenario, have you considered the possibility that it might be a trap?”
“Of course it’s a trap. She’s luring me in, but what choice do I have?”
Her head lolled back again. “Okay, then go. Leave.”
“You’re not coming?”
“No. I’m not done. I have to find my baby.” A tear welled in the corner of her eye, and she blinked it away.
I studied her vacant expression as she stared across the room, light from the flickering flames of the stove dancing over her face. “That’s the real reason you’re in Noctilla, isn’t it? And why you’ve stayed?” She didn’t need to answer. Her downcast demeanour told me all I needed to know. “You haven’t told the Assembly about him, have you?”
“How could I? They’d accuse me of being too close to the case and take me off it.”
“And you couldn’t risk them sending you home, because you think he’s here somewhere.”
“Where else would he be?”
“Beats me, but you haven’t found him yet.”
“Only because I need to locate the stronghold,” she straightened up to face me, “which you were supposed to help me infiltrate. So thanks for deserting me,” she said with a touch of venom.
“I want to help, Char. Believe me.” It shocked me how much I meant it, too. “But I think you’re wrong about a stronghold, and I have to go. I need you to come with me.” She was in just as much danger as anyone else I knew, and with a death sentence hanging over her head, I couldn’t let her out of my sight.
“No. No, I can’t leave. I can’t abandon my baby.”
“There is no stronghold, Char.”
“There has to be. All those people have to be somewhere.”
“She has no reason to keep anyone alive.”
Her whole body tensed and her nostrils flared. “Are you saying my son’s dead? How could you? Go on. Go! Get out! I can’t even look at you right now.”
She turned her back to me, and I stared at the rapid rise and fall of her shoulders. Trust me to say the wrong thing again, but I didn’t have time for hysterics. The longer we sat here arguing, the more chance there was of my nightmare becoming true.
“You’re coming, if I have to drag you kicking and screaming all the way.”
Her head whipped around. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Try me.”
She raised her chin in defiance as if to goad me, but in spite of my threat, I had no desire to use force.
“Look, I’ve no idea whether your son is alive or dead, but if I’m right about the fight moving to my home turf and you’re not there, I’ll kill that crazy bitch, a
nd I won’t be pausing to ask questions. What do you think your chances of finding him will be then?”
Her head angled. I’d got her thinking. One more push should do it.
“It’s the only way, Char. Don’t you see it? You can stay here and spend another few months making pretty collages on the wall and chasing dead ends, if you like. But if you want answers… you want to know where the boy is… You’re going to have to come with me and hear it from the horse’s mouth.”
“You’re asking me to risk everything on one stupid dream,” she said after another moment’s pause.
“Not just one dream. Something’s been messing with my brain for weeks, showing me snippets of our time together. I might be shooting blanks here, but it could be the ‘stronger force’ that Yanis mentioned.”
“That’s stretching it a bit far.”
“Maybe, but it would make sense for there to be more than one person behind this barbarity.”
“Made a lot of enemies, have you?”
“I can think of a few who would have preferred me to stay dead.”
“I bet.” She let out an exaggerated sigh. “If you’re wrong, I swear…”
“I’m not.” I grabbed her arm and urged her to stand. “Let’s go.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
When the walls of the cellar sharpened into view, Rust bounded from the top of the terraplunger and sniffed around at familiar scents with his tail wagging. Although I was pleased by his enthusiasm, I couldn’t say I felt the same. The relief of my homecoming was smothered by the dread of what might await us upstairs. I honed my ears for sounds of trouble and failed to decide whether the silence that met them was a good or a bad thing.
I hooked my arms around Charlotte’s waist and jumped us both onto the dusty floor. She accepted my help without a word, and the expression on her face was a mixture of nervousness and intrigue as she took in the surroundings.
“You didn’t tell me you lived in a cave,” she said. “Though I can’t say it surprises me.”
“I don’t. I live in the woods outside.” I grinned.
