Changeling

by Steve Feasey

  ‘It was a mistake,’ Lucien said from the back seat. He had drunk his fill from the bag of blood that Tom had brought with him, and he was beginning to feel a return to normality.

  ‘You don’t make mistakes,’ the Irishman said, catching sight of his boss in the rear-view mirror. ‘I have never known you to make a mistake.’

  Lucien closed his eyes and allowed his head to fall back against the headrest. Tom carried on talking, but the words were nothing but a background noise to Lucien as he tried to get his thoughts and emotions back in check.

  What was happening? Why would he allow himself to lose control and put himself in the position that he just had? To risk everything that he had struggled to achieve?

  He thought of his young ward, Trey, and how he’d told the boy of the need to master his own powers. How he should not – could not – be ruled by the creature that lived inside him. And he remembered how the teenager had described the feeling of being truly alive when he had first morphed into his werewolf state; how the strength and the might and the power had felt so … right.

  Lucien had sworn that he would never return to the thing that he had once been – a taker of lives, a harbinger of death that fed upon the blood and misery of others. And yet tonight he had acted in a way that suggested that a part of him at least still yearned for that rightness of being that Trey had described.

  He opened his eyes, catching Tom looking at him in the rear-view mirror, and turned his head to stare out of the window, looking out as the darkened London streets slipped by. He realized how exhausted he felt. His shoulder ached.

  ‘How are Alexa and our guest?’ he asked.

  ‘They’re fine. The Ashnon has been in contact again. It said to tell you that it was hungry.’

  ‘Good. Then we shall see to it that the creature’s appetite is well and truly sated,’ Lucien said, regretting the choice of words as soon as they’d left his mouth.

  14

  Ronald Given sank back into his bed and stared up at the ceiling. He had been feeling unwell all day. A black, nagging pain seemed to emanate from his stomach and spread out to every part of him. He grimaced again, screwing up his eyes and hissing as another hot knife of pain stabbed through his abdomen, his hand automatically clutching at his midriff.

  Something moved there. Something shifted beneath his hand, squirming away from his touch. He gasped in horror and sat up in the bed, looking about him in the darkness. He had to warn Lucien. He had to tell his boss that …

  The thought dispersed and dissolved despite his attempts to fix it in his mind; it dissipated away into nothingness. He lay back down again, frowning to himself and trying to remember what had just happened. A pain lanced through him again, but he ignored it this time, as if it were not his pain at all but that of someone else.

  Ronald Given stared up at the ceiling through eyes that no longer communicated with his brain, entering a deep catatonic state.

  The Necrotroph cursed its sloppiness and closed down all the non-essential systems inside the host body. It took complete control again and erased the thoughts that the man had just experienced.

  The demon could not afford any more errors – not after what had happened in the Seychelles with the human Colin Tipsbury and his daughter. The vampire lord, Caliban, had promised that the price for failing to re-infiltrate Lucien’s organization would be a long and agonizing death at the hands of some hell-beast or another.

  It was the girl who was playing on its mind; the girl who was causing it to make stupid mistakes by allowing its concentration to slip. Caliban did not know the Necrotroph had failed to extinguish Philippa Tipsbury in that boat on the Indian Ocean.

  The Necrotroph had not heard back from the demon that it had sent to kill her at the hospital. More worryingly, nobody had seen neither hide nor hair of the Incubus since. It should have gone itself. It needed that girl dead. It needed to be sure that the worrying feeling that it had been experiencing since the Seychelles – the feeling that it was being watched – was not something to do with her. Because it did feel that it was being watched – a feeling that was uncomfortable for a creature that thrived on being undetectable to both human and nether-creature alike.

  If anything became capable of detecting its movements, of knowing where, and who, it was … The demon shuddered to think what the outcome of that little scenario might be. But it couldn’t shake the nagging doubt that something was wrong, and that it was something to do with that girl, that damn girl who had refused to die. The demon tried to steer its thoughts to other matters – it needed to go through the next stage of its plans so that nothing would be left to chance.

  The demon knew that it had done well to get this far undetected. It had needed to make some swift transfers to get into this body, and it thought that it was now only two more steps away from being at the heart of Lucien Charron’s empire again. The older man that it currently inhabited worked for the vampire. He had access to most of the staff’s cars, and as a result was on friendly terms with the head of security, the Irishman Tom. The demon sniggered at its audacity. It would take some effort to pull it off undetected, but it needed something big like this to show its master that it was still an essential cog in Caliban’s plans – it never did to have the boss uncertain of your worth. So it had decided to do what it had not dared the last time it was on the inside of the organization – go straight to the person closest to Lucien Charron, his friend and confidante the human Tom O’Callahan.

  It knew that if it could get the Irishman away from the vampire for a while it could take him over. It would need to be sure to be on guard at all times and completely suppress the Irishman host. It would use the mechanic to get the Irishman away from the building, making up some story about having to take his car to his lock-up garage and needing a lift back. Then it would strike. And when it did, it would make its way back into the soft underbelly of Lucien Charron’s empire, where it could help its master to destroy it forever.

  The Necrotroph settled the current host down into the bed, allowing itself to relax a little and savour its impending triumph. It would soon be able to dispense with this body and take control of a key player in Lucien’s organization. It smiled to itself and considered the havoc that it could wreak once its plans came to fruition. It closed the human’s eyes and settled back to rest.

  I can sense you, Necrotroph.

  The body of Ronald Given sat bolt upright in the bed, his eyes scanning the darkness.

  The voice seemed to whisper into the human’s mind, and the sound sent a cold shudder of fear through the demon. It recognized the voice. Indeed, it should do – it had spoken with that same voice for a while. It was the voice of the Tipsbury girl – the girl it had left in the hull of a boat in the middle of the Indian Ocean.

  I might not know exactly where you are right now, but I can sense that you are out there.

  A bead of sweat trickled down the human’s forehead, and he blinked as the salty liquid found its way into his right eye.

  I thought that I was mad. But I’m not, am I? You changed something inside me forever, and now I can sense you out there. There are people who are interested in finding you, Necrotroph. People who came to visit me at the hospital. They saved me from the assassin that you sent to kill me, and now they are keeping me safe. Keeping me safe so that I can help them find you. And I believe that I will be able to find you, demon. I can’t quite yet, but soon I think that I will be able to do just that.

  ‘Bitch!’ the demon hissed, rising to its feet from the bed. ‘I’ll kill you, do you hear me? I’ll find you and tear you apart from the inside.’ But the voice had gone. The demon stared wildly around the room and smashed a fist into the wall, closing off the pain receptors that screamed off electrical signals to the brain as a result.

  The human was panting. The demon had allowed its control of the host to slip again and the host-body was reacting to the adrenalin coursing through its bloodstream. The Necrotroph quickly took control and calmed
the host down.

  It needed to act quickly. It needed to get inside the vampire’s domain as soon as possible and get rid of the girl.

  Ronal Given sank back down on to the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. The Necrotroph knew that if the powers that the Tipsbury girl had described were real, then they would indeed become more acute and she would be able to find it anywhere in this world or the demon realm. It couldn’t allow that to happen. It couldn’t allow Charron to know where it was, or it was doomed.

  It needed to get at the girl. And quickly.

  15

  They’d all gathered in the living room to watch Alexa perform the magic that enabled her to speak to the Necrotroph through Philippa’s voice. The young sorceress had sat on the settee with the other girl by her side. They held hands as Alexa spoke the words in a long-dead language, putting the girl into a deep trance.

  Alexa looked at Philippa on the seat next to her. The girl’s body was set rigidly, as though all of the muscles had locked at once, giving her an inelegant, mannequin-like appearance. The sorceress smiled sadly across at her, lifting her hand to push aside a strand of hair that had fallen across the girl’s face. She glanced up at her father, who responded with a swift nod of encouragement. He had been in a strange mood all day. He and Tom had arrived home late last night and he had hardly said a word to her all day, choosing to lock himself in his office instead. She had the distinct feeling that it was not her that he was avoiding, but the girl currently sitting by her side. As if, for some reason, he felt uncomfortable in her company.

  She pushed these strange thoughts away, concentrating on the task in hand.

  She closed her eyes, allowing the magic to enter her. It was the first time that she had attempted this spell, and it would need all of her skill and focus to pull it off. She felt a part of herself reach out towards Philippa, nudging at the girl’s consciousness and feeling a grudging resistance. A frown briefly flickered across her brow, and she tried again, pushing harder, and this time she felt the girl’s opposition begin to give a little.

  And then suddenly she was in – inside Philippa’s mind.

  She gasped. It was like swimming, swimming through a sea of somebody’s life – a billion thoughts, feelings, emotions and experiences were there, all clamouring for her attention. In her mind’s eye she imagined them as an infinity of tiny fish, a curtain of colour that shimmered and parted in front of her as she slowly made her way through them. It was beautiful. She was moving though another person’s mind, and she revelled in the experience. The initial euphoria and wonder that she felt was almost too much for Alexa, but she slowly managed to pull herself together and began to make her way deep inside Philippa’s psyche to locate the part that she was looking for – the region of her brain that had been irredeemably changed by the demon.

  And then she sensed it up ahead, sensed it before she saw it – a darkness in among the twisting, iridescent world before her. Alexa knew that the black, festering mass had no right to be inside the girl, and she had to fight the urge to attack the thing in some way, to remove the foul tumour-like object that represented the dark magic of the nether-creature. But to do so would damage Philippa. Besides, they needed it – it was their only hope of finding and stopping the creature responsible for it being there. So she swam towards it, knowing that through it she would be able to locate the Necrotroph.

  The magic was exhausting, requiring Alexa to form a huge envelope of energy around the two of them. In addition she was using another person’s body as a conduit for the magic, and it required every inch of her strength and skill and concentration. She tried not to think of the toll that this was taking on her, or how long it might take her to recover from it once it was all over. Such thoughts were counterproductive right now and could jeopardize what she was hoping to achieve.

  She hesitated in front of the thing, not wanting anything to do with the dark magic that it represented. Then she dived into the black morass, and as soon as she did so she could sense the Necrotroph. It was terrible and terrifying being inside that dreadful blackness, but she spoke to the nether-creature, delivering the speech that she and her father had cooked up together, pleased when it reacted in the way that they had hoped it would. The nether-creature’s anger and fear were almost palpable, and she revelled in its discomfort.

  When she finally freed herself from the spell, she slumped back into the cushions, letting out a great sigh of exhaustion and relief that it had gone as they’d planned. She felt Philippa stirring next to her and realized that she still had her own eyes closed. She opened them, surprised at the effort that even this simple action required.

  ‘How did it go?’ Lucien asked, offering his daughter a glass of cold water. ‘Was our fish hooked?’

  She smiled wearily back at him, gratefully accepting the proffered glass – magic required, and created, huge amounts of energy. Many spells, like the one she had just cast, created heat; others created cyclonic winds or bright lights, telekinetic forces that caused items to fly around the room, and some created powers so strong that only the greatest mages were able to perform them without themselves being torn apart. Alexa drank greedily from the glass, her hand raised in front of her to indicate that she would answer as soon as she had slaked her thirst.

  ‘The Necro freaked out. It started screaming and shouting about how it was going to find Philippa and tear her apart. I’d say that the bait was well and truly taken.’

  Lucien nodded and turned to Tom, who was standing at his side. ‘You see? The demon is convinced that Philippa will develop the ability to locate it. It will need to make a move against her sooner rather than later.’ The vampire smiled reassuringly at Philippa, leaning forward and gently placing his hand on her shoulder. It was the first time since they had met that she had not drawn back from his presence, let alone his touch.

  ‘You are not in danger, Philippa. I will not allow any further harm to come to you. All we need to do is keep the tension on the line, and we can catch ourselves a particularly nasty little nether-creature.’

  The last person in the room grunted something unintelligible and shifted against the leather seat. Lucien turned to look at the Ashnon, which dipped its head in the vampire’s direction, flashing a fierce smile.

  Tom looked across at the thing as it sprawled back into the cushions. The Ashnon had been with them for the entire day, but the Irishman’s brain could not comprehend that the figure sitting opposite him was not Maude Turner, the member of Lucien’s staff he had known for so long.

  ‘What do we do now?’ Tom asked, still staring at the old woman on the settee.

  ‘Now? We wait,’ said Lucien. ‘We wait and see what the Necrotroph’s next move will be. It will be forced to take action against Philippa here. It needs to remove her as quickly as possible. Remember, it doesn’t know that we are aware of whose body it currently inhabits. My guess is that it will make its move in the next day or so.’

  ‘Poor Ronald,’ Alexa said.

  ‘Indeed,’ Lucien replied. ‘But the demon had already taken control of his body when we found out. There was nothing that we could do to save him. But we can stop this demon from ever doing it to anyone else.’

  ‘Another family destroyed by that … thing,’ Philippa said, speaking for the first time since they had all gathered together.

  They turned and looked at the girl, noting the tears that snaked their way down her cheeks.

  Alexa squeezed the girl’s hand. ‘There have been thousands of families destroyed by that creature, Philippa. But we are here to stop it. For good. And we are only able to do that because of you and the unique power that you now have.’

  ‘Ahem! Aren’t you forgetting that you need my help in all this?’ The Ashnon raised an eyebrow and clicked its teeth together – an action that looked completely out of place when performed in the body of a seventy-year-old woman. The demon was in a temporary body that it had borrowed while they made their preparations. Maude Turner was an elderly te
a lady who had worked for Lucien for a number of years. It had been Lucien who had approached her to discuss the possibility of the body swap. She had recently been diagnosed with cancer, and the deal was an easy one for her to agree to – she lent the Ashnon her identity for a few days, and when she came back to this realm, it would be in a body that was completely cancer-free. It would bemuse and befuddle the doctors; they had told her that she had only a matter of months to live.

  ‘Of course,’ Lucien said, turning and grinning in the old lady’s direction. ‘The real work of permanently removing the Necrotroph will be done by our friend here.’

  ‘And how exactly will you be doing that?’ Tom asked.

  The Ashnon grinned back at the Irishman, meeting his stare with its own. ‘You just leave that to me, OK? Think of me as pest control. If there is one thing that we Ashnon are good at, it’s removing vermin like that Necrotroph – it’s what we were created for.’ The old lady turned to look at Philippa, smiling kindly at the girl who somehow managed to return the smile despite her fears.

  ‘Now then, my dear,’ the demon said. ‘How do you fancy a trip of a lifetime to the Waldorf Astoria hotel in New York?’

  16

  Trey slammed the front door behind him and stood on the porch sucking in great, burning lungfuls of cold air. He tried to calm himself down, blinking away at the tears that welled up and blurred his vision. He stepped off the wooden platform and on to the hard-packed mud that constituted the driveway, making towards the woods. He had no idea where he was headed, but right now he just wanted to get as far away from the house and his uncle as he could.

  A burning rolling sensation churned in the pit of his stomach, and he repeatedly swallowed the watery spit that formed in his mouth in an effort not to vomit.

  He couldn’t shake loose the picture that persisted in his mind’s eye. He could see his mother lying on the grass, covered in her own gore as his father stood over her in his werewolf form, wiping her blood from his face. Trey stopped and closed his eyes, pressing the pads of his thumbs against his eyelids, but the picture was still there, waiting for him. He shouted out in frustration and kicked out at a small rock, sending it spinning off into the high grasses that led up to the edge of the forest.