by H B Lyne
'Really?' There was a hard edge to Echoes' voice that Stalker had never heard before. It was as if she had been yanked out of her dream land into the real world for a rare glimpse of its true horrors.
'Yes, I'm confident that they had just been with their mother. They looked in good health.'
'There are a number of possible explanations,' Echoes mused, her voice back to its dreamy tone. 'I'll talk to Scribe and do some research for you.'
'Thank you,' Eyes said. 'Let me know when you have something. We'll let you get some sleep now.'
Eyes ended the call. Stalker took a deep breath.
'So what now?' she asked.
'Patrols, research, building the battle van, preparing weapons. Wind Talker, can you prepare some talismans?'
'Yes, of course. I was going to ask Spark from the Glass Wolves to help. She is a very experienced ritualist, I'm sure I can learn from her.'
Stalker stared at him, she had never known such humility from him. Perhaps he had grown from his experience as Alpha, or her decision to sacrifice him. She picked up a pen from the table and rolled it idly between her fingers, before stuffing it into the back pocket of her jeans without thinking.
'Great, I want as much collaboration with the Glass Wolves and Wrecking Crew as possible. We need a firm alliance if this has a hope of succeeding. Stalker, talk to Sky Runner and coordinate patrols with her. Just make sure Rust's okay with it.'
'Will do.'
'Claws, touch base with Rust today and go over plans for the vehicle. Where are we on the weaponry?'
'I have a meeting today with a friend of Wind Talker's. I'll keep you up to date.'
'Okay. Great. I'm going to go and see Theodore about the dead girl. We'll reconvene here tonight. I want to go to Redfield Park and speak to Crimson Thorns.'
'What?' Stalker snapped. Weaver didn't seem surprised, but Wind Talker and Claws both exchanged troubled glances. 'She's mad. We've been warned a dozen times not to go near her.'
'Exactly.' Eyes wore a grim but determined expression. 'That's exactly why we should talk to her. We need to see for ourselves what the situation is there in Hepethia. We've always taken the word of the Blue Moon for granted, and look where that's got us. If nothing else, we might be able to gather intelligence on the Witches from her.'
'Alpha,' Wind Talker said quietly, but firmly. 'She is their ally. We could be putting ourselves in danger going to see her.'
'I know, but I won't budge on this. Speaking of Witch allies, someone should check in with Scourging Agony.'
'I can do that,' Claws volunteered. 'I suggested his feeding ground to him, I think he trusts me.'
'Okay, thank you. Weaver, I want you to come with me to Theodore now. Use whatever influence you have on him.'
Weaver simply nodded in reply. Stalker liked seeing Eyes like this, all business and professional. This was the Alpha they needed, firm, decisive and in charge.
The pack dispersed for the day. Eyes and Weaver got into his car, Wind Talker retreated to the attic, Claws set off to see Scourging Agony first. Stalker paused in the doorway of the house and watched the others leaving. Her mind ran over everything they had to do and she frantically tried to decide how she could best be useful. Her decision clicked into place, and she ran after Claws as he set off down the street.
'Wait, I'll come with you,' she called. He slowed down as she caught up. 'He might be more talkative if someone's inflicting pain on themselves.'
Claws nodded and the two of them walked briskly towards Red Drop of Ink. The tattooist was just opening the shop when they arrived. Red greeted them with a warm smile and held the door open for them.
'This is nice, customers on my doorstep so early.' He glanced at Claws, a slight frown on his brow. Stalker stifled a laugh. Claws really didn't look much like he was in the market for a tattoo, he looked exactly like a private investigator. 'I remember you,' Red said to Stalker, a curious smile on his lips. 'Ariana, right?'
'That's right,' she said, smiling back.
'I did the eclipse over your heart. I hope it healed okay.'
Stalker nodded. They both knew he wasn't talking about the ink, she had been close to tears when she had sat in his chair.
'How's business?' Stalker asked.
'Pretty good, thanks. I've had a lot more people interested in the extreme stuff in the last few months though, weird. Not that I'm complaining, it pays well.'
Red had a side-line, the thing that made this place perfect for a demon who thrived on masochism. Red performed scarification and extreme piercings on willing and paying customers.
'Nice,' she replied, a hint of sarcasm in her voice.
'How can I help you today?' Red asked her, though he cast a furtive glance at Claws as he moved around the room, looking at the posters on the walls and peering into the back room.
'I know I haven't booked a slot, but I hoped you'd be free to do another tat for me now.'
'Sure, my diary's clear for the next hour or so. What do you want?'
Stalker suddenly realised that this wasn't planned. She had no idea what she wanted. She glanced at Claws, her brother. She had ink for her fallen pack, but nothing for her living one.
'Lightning,' she replied. She remembered the shifter from the Hellsclaws with the lighting all down her arm. That must have taken a lot longer than an hour. She would have to go for something simpler, but she found herself smiling at the thought.
'Nice. Okay, come on through. Is your friend okay out here?' Red glanced at Claws again.
'Yeah, I'm fine thanks. I'll wait here for you, Ariana.' Claws looked pointedly at her. Feed him, then we'll cross and see him, his voice echoed inside her head. She nodded and followed Red into the back room. She sat in the chair and Red passed her a book full of stock images. She began flicking through it, her eyes lingering on the more simple, tribal images that were scattered throughout the more realistic flashes of lightning. She caught sight of one that made her stop flipping the pages. It was lightning, with a wolf and large bird of prey emerging from the heavy lines.
'This, this is great. I don't suppose you can make the bird look more like an owl, and work in a cat and a badger too?'
Red looked at the image and then gave her a curious glance.
'I'd have to plan it first, but yeah, I could probably do that.'
'Okay, just do the lightning and wolf now and can I book another time to come in for you to finish it?'
'Sure, no problem.' Red got his equipment ready and then looked at her expectantly. 'Where are we doing this?'
'Oh.' She shrugged off her jacket and lifted her top. She tapped her right side, just above her hip. She settled into the chair on her side and watched Red work over her shoulder. The chill in the room didn't bother her, nor did baring so much flesh. A shifter wasn't the best creature to invoke a pain demon, as it took a lot more than a scratching electronic needle to cause Stalker pain. But Scourging Agony appeared to appreciate the gesture, nonetheless. Stalker caught a glimpse of the demon peeking at her across the veil behind Red's back, just as he had done the last time she was in this chair.
When Red finished he held up a mirror for Stalker to admire the work. She grinned at the sight of a wolf just like Eyes leaping across a streak of lightning. It was perfect.
'What do you think?'
'It's great. Thanks. I look forward to getting the rest added.'
Red wiped the blood from her back and side, and he smiled at her as she continued to grin at the new ink.
'I'm glad you like it. This is the reaction I like to get from my clients, rather than tears.'
'Yeah, it's good to be looking forward, not back.' She wasn't going to open up to this relative stranger about the meaning behind her tattoo choices. She put her clothes back on, handed the cash over to Red and went out into the front to meet Claws.
'What did you get?' he asked, as he stood from his seat in the window.
'I'll show you later.' Red hadn't followed her out, and she glanced back to
see him tidying up. 'Thanks, Red! See you later!' she called out.
'No problem. Bye,' he called back. Claws went to the door, opened it, then closed it again without leaving. The two of them crossed the veil, neatly folding out of sight of Red and the bustling high street outside. Stalker looked around at their new surroundings.
In Hepethia, the shop was part of the tangled maze built by the Blue Moon. The interior was bare, like the back of a stage set, with Hepethia's raw crystals poking through the brickwork where the job hadn't been finished off neatly. It was surprisingly dark, the light from outside seeming to not reach into the shell of a building, but Stalker could smell blood. Tiny trickles of the sticky substance ran down the walls in places, and small pools formed on the ground in the grooves of the crystal and stone.
'What is this?' Claws whispered.
'Our influence,' she replied softy. She led him away from the large front window, towards the narrow doorway through the wall at the back. The sound of a rattling breath stopped them in their tracks. The chink of metal on metal came from the other side of the wall, and a sensual sigh made Stalker's stomach turn. She stepped through the doorway, Claws by her side.
Scourging Agony was hovering a foot off the ground, suspended in mid-air, with his bladed arms and fingers outstretched and his head tipped back. Slowly he turned to look down at them, a sickening smile on his pallid face.
'Why thank you for that. Though I do prefer it when they at least groan a bit, screams are better.'
Stalker suppressed a shudder.
'No problem. How is this place working out for you? I gather the business has changed slightly for you.'
'Yesssss. The pretty young things do seem to want to experience more pain here these days.' The demon grinned at her.
'We need to talk to you about your old mistress,' Claws said, tension in his voice. Not much rattled him, but this demon seemed to get under his skin. 'When did you last see her?'
'A few days ago,' the demon replied, his face eager for a reaction.
'What business did you have with her?'
'Oh, nothing terribly important. She summoned me, I went, we talked.'
'What reassurance can you give us that you're loyal to us and not her?' Stalker asked, her patience growing thin.
'Well, I doubt you would believe anything I told you, so you'll just have to decide to trust me.'
'What has she had you doing?' Claws asked, rubbing his temples.
'Oh, the usual; retrieving bodies, sending messages. That sort of thing.'
'Have you sabotaged any of those jobs?' Claws asked, raising a curious eyebrow.
'No, there was nothing to be gained in doing so. But I can assure you, if the need arises I shall do my best to protect you and not her.' His voice dripped as he attempted to ingratiate himself upon them. It was almost impossible for Stalker to tell how much of his demeanour was faked, but Claws had his special skill and she looked to him for a clue. Claws nodded solemnly.
'I see. You mentioned retrieving bodies? Care to elaborate?'
'Yes, actually. One of them would concern you a great deal. I was responsible for finding her dead daughter and returning her home.' The demon grinned wickedly. Stalker flinched and shook her head. This was just the information they were looking for, it all felt too convenient to be falling into their laps now.
'Why didn't you inform us of this before?' Claws asked.
'That was never our arrangement,' the demon stated plainly. 'I don't volunteer anything, but will answer when asked.'
Stalker searched her memory. Could that be what they had agreed? Demons were slippery creatures, but agonisingly literal at times. Perhaps he was right, perhaps that is precisely what they had agreed at the time.
'Fine,' Claws snapped, his patience wearing thin. 'Have you told The Witches, or their Alpha, anything that would compromise us?' He glared at the demon.
'No, I have not.' Scourging Agony leaned forward and enunciated clearly, daring Claws to find him a liar.
'What did you do with the girl's body?' Stalker asked, getting them back on point.
'Took it to the crematorium, where all dead bodies go to die.' His black lips twisted into a sneer.
'Well, she isn't dead now. What do you know about that? About dead girls up and about, living their lives?' Stalker spat the words.
'Very little. I don't know how they did it, it's none of my concern. If it's any consolation, the first one that you killed can't show her face in public, as the authorities believe her to be dead. She's hardly living her life. Living her death might be more accurate.'
Stalker twitched. Why did this have to haunt her? Why couldn't the girl have stayed dead and buried in Stalker's past?
'I see,' Claws replied softly. 'Well, thank you for your cooperation.' He turned to leave and Stalker moved with him, her mind still on the Witches who should be dead.
'You're planning to attack them, aren't you?' There was something urgent in his voice, and the two shifters stopped and turned back to look up at him. 'You're going to kill them all. Again.'
'And?' Claws asked, lifting his chin in defiance.
'It's not my usual flavour, but can I be there?' His black eyes glared at them hungrily.
'I don't know,' Claws said slowly, caution written on his face. 'I'll have to check with our Alpha.'
'Of course,' Scourging Agony said, slowly bowing his head. His fingers clicked together. Stalker and Claws left and stepped out through the door into the street. They paused and exchanged troubled glances.
'What do we do with this?' Stalker asked, feeling lost and confused.
'Take it back to Eyes. It's his call.'
'We need to end this relationship, don't we?'
'I think so. We can't trust him. He didn't lie once in there, but he's clever. There could so easily be ways for him to slip around the lies and give me nothing but truth, while still betraying us relentlessly.'
Stalker nodded.
'I'm heading back to Grove Street. I have to call Sky Runner.'
'Okay, I have to see a man about a very big gun. Take care. I'll see you tonight.' Claws drew her into a one-armed hug. She patted him on the back, and he released her. They went their separate ways.
Back at the house, Stalker made her way up to the attic, hardly aware of what she was doing. The house was still and empty. She hummed some tune that sometimes got stuck in her head, and went to the corner where there was a mysterious hole in the fabric of reality. She reached inside and pulled out a small wooden box.
'Open,' she whispered softly, her lips almost caressing the rune-inscribed lid. The box slid open, and Stalker took out the pen from her back pocket. She placed it gently in the box alongside assorted small objects, including two folded playing cards, a penny, some apple seeds, a crumpled packet from a cereal bar, and a small key for a padlock. She lifted out the tooth on a black leather cord, and ran her fingers over it. She tied it around her neck, closed the lid and kissed it. The box vanished in her hands, invisible to every part of her mind. She slid it back into its hiding place and walked away. Halfway down the stairs she paused, shook her head and looked around at where she was. She'd been getting this strange feeling a lot lately, walking into a room and forgetting why she was there. She had always thought it was a phenomenon that crept up on the elderly, but apparently not. With a sigh she continued down the stairs and went about her day, blissfully unaware of the box hidden in the attic.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Fights-Eyes-Open
Eyes slammed his door shut and pounded his palms on the steering wheel. Weaver sat quietly at his side, waiting for his anger to abate.
'How could he lose the body and not tell us?'
'It would have shown weakness. He's all about strength.' Weaver's voice was quiet and calm. Eyes glared at her.
'Why aren't you angry? Why are you so calm?'
'What's to be angry about? This wasn't a personal insult, he didn't do anything to deliberately hurt us, he was simply looking afte
r his own interests. Do you go broadcasting every upset that we encounter to other packs?'
'No, I suppose not.' Eyes sighed and rested his head on the seat back. Weaver was usually right. 'Okay, let's get back.' He started the car and swept from the car park under Free River Tower.
'I disagree with him, by the way,' Weaver said, a small smile on her lips. 'He should have told us. The repercussions of the body going missing could well affect us, therefore it is our business.'
Eyes glanced at her and let out a short bark of laughter. He shook his head and gripped the wheel tighter.
'I'm glad to hear you say that. I was worried about where your loyalties lie for a moment there.'
'No you weren't,' she replied with a smile.
'I wish you didn't always know what I was thinking.'
'It's a burden.' She shrugged and settled back in her seat. Eyes didn't entirely mean it, he was thankful for their telepathy. He knew that they would be a stronger pack in combat for it, as they had been against Glimmering Wires. It wouldn't be long now. Everything was clicking into place.
They arrived back in St. Mark's and pulled up outside the house. Weaver got out of the car and looked expectantly at Eyes. 'You coming in?'
'No, I need to do a few things. I'll see you and the others at Redfield Park after sunset.'
'Okay. Be careful.'
'You too.'
Weaver shut the door and Eyes drove away. He went to his mother's house first, picked up post and checked the house over carefully. He changed his clothes, and put some washing on. Then he drove across St. Mark's to Crossway and pulled up at his own house. He was going to have to sell it. He needed to sort through their things, ship Chloe and Amy's belongings to them, and dispose of the rest. He could never live here again.
He moved through the house, ghosts lurking in every corner. The kitchen sparkled and smelled of fresh varnish, but Eyes could still see his father's body slumped against the cupboards and blood pooling on the floor. Up on the landing there was no visible trace of what had occurred, but Eyes stood where he had crushed the Witch. Uncovering how and why the twins had been resurrected was the single most important thing to him, and Stalker likely felt the same. But he mustn't allow it to side-track them from the main objective. It was irrelevant really, if they were going to eliminate the entire pack then what were two more youngsters? But they had to know if killing them would do any good, or if the whole lot of them would spring back from the hell they were sent to.
