“Boy!” Orville bellowed from his place of honor by the fire. “Boy, git over here!”
Fifteen-year-old me wasn’t exactly eager to comply with my father’s demand. He’d beaten me the day before for spilling mountain cat entrails on his boots, and last night Hodge and Morris had tied me to the back of their truck and road-hauled me through a field for half an hour, just for the hell of it. I was aching and filthy, my arms plunged deep into the carcass of a half-grown grizzly the boys had taken at fifty yards.
I wasn’t allowed to hunt. They didn’t trust me with guns—and by that time, they were right not to. I would’ve killed them all if I could.
“You got five seconds, boy!”
Cursing as loud as I dared, I pulled free of the dead bear and wiped my bloodied hands on my pants. I’d trained myself not to show anger, or fear, or any other emotion that’d set them off, so I approached the firelight with a blank expression. “Yes?”
“Yes sir, you little rat.” He held up an empty bottle and jerked his head toward the Slipstream. “Take that inside’n grab me a fresh one.”
“Yes, sir,” I said, unable to help the sarcastic emphasis. My hate had burned particularly bright that night.
His red-shot eyes narrowed. “You mockin’ me?”
“No, sir.”
“Ought to whack you one anyway,” he grumbled. “Get movin’.”
I took the bottle—but he didn’t let go. He was staring at my chest.
“What?” I said.
“Don’t you ‘what’ me, rat. The hell’s that around your neck?”
I went cold. The pendant must’ve slipped out while I was gutting the bear.
A week ago, we’d stopped at one of the nameless, hole-in-the-wall trading posts that poachers frequented for gear you couldn’t walk into a store and buy. Everyone ignored the grizzled, hulking slab of an old man sitting outside—except for me. He looked mean, almost scary, with a scarred face and hands bigger than my whole head. But he had kind eyes, a deeper blue than mine, and he’d smiled as if he was happy to see me. I didn’t get that often.
I was a Valentine, after all. A ruthless, dirty bastard. Guilty by association.
When the rest of the clan went inside the place, I’d hung back. The great old man had eased himself up and lumbered over, holding out a huge hand to shake. I took it, and he pressed something into mine.
“This belongs to you, Gideon,” he’d said in a raspy voice—and my jaw dropped. He couldn’t have known that. My family never called me by name.
“How did you…”
“Keep it safe. Promise you will.”
“I…I promise.”
Speaking those words made my chest burn, and I didn’t know why. Finally, I’d opened my hand to look at what he’d given me. It was a crystal stone, a shard about an inch long, held at the top with delicate silver lattice and strung on a black cord. So clear that it seemed to glow, even in daylight. And it was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.
I’d known that if my family ever saw it, they’d take it from me.
“Nothing,” I finally said to my dream-father. “Just a piece of glass on a string.”
“Yeah? Well, if it’s nothing, then give it here.”
I took a quick step back. “No.”
“No?”
He said it softly, but Hodge and Morris reacted as if he’d shouted thunder, jerking their attention in my direction with angry glares. They started toward me from the other side of the fire.
Shaking my head, I slipped the pendant back inside my shirt. The crystal was warm against my skin, the only heat in my otherwise cold body. “It’s nothing,” I said. “It’s mine.”
“Oh, boys,” Orville said in wicked, singsong tones. “I think it’s time for target practice.”
My older brothers grinned.
I whirled and ran for the woods.
At this point, the dream always diverged from what really happened. It couldn’t have happened, because although I was running at full sprint through a deep, dark forest, miles from any form of civilization—I could see. The light of the moon filtering through the branches above me seemed as bright as searchlights.
And my pendant glowed to match the moon’s brilliance.
Unfortunately, even in the dream my brothers could see just as well. The Valentines were horrible human beings, but they were exceptional hunters. They worked with night vision gear, scopes and goggles, and they’d all been shooting since they could lift a gun. They brought down their prey every single time, without fail.
And that included me.
This was my brothers’ favorite game. Target practice, otherwise known as See Gideon Run. The rules were simple. They’d chase me until one of them shot me. It was always somewhere that wouldn’t kill me, and always in a new place, a new eventual scar—they were good enough to land the shot wherever they wanted.
Hodge and Morris kept a running score. At last count, Morris was ahead by two.
I’d been out here tracking a few times now, and I remembered a cave about a thousand yards northeast from the campsite. My brothers hadn’t been moving too fast. The night vision gear made them confident, especially since they could track my progress wherever I went. They didn’t have to keep up.
But this time I’d gotten far ahead of them. I slipped inside the cave and moved back into the blackness, silently catching my breath. In that moment, with only my thrumming heartbeat for company, I realized I had to get away from my family—and I had to do it in a way that they’d never find me. Otherwise I wouldn’t live to adulthood.
It would be another long, painful year from that moment until I managed to escape.
That night, and in the dream, I crouched in the cave for what felt like forever, hating them more every second. I’d already defied my father—and I’d pay for that. Having me shot again wouldn’t be enough to satisfy him.
I figured while I was in a defiant mood, I might as well throw some of it at my brothers, too.
Maybe I’d reached some subconscious breaking point, or maybe I just wanted them to finally kill me and get it over with. Whatever the reason, when I heard the near-silent approach of the men hunting me, I walked boldly out of the cave and stood at the entrance in full view, glaring at the two figures who crouched behind a deadfall not thirty feet away.
In the dream, the pendant glowed like cold fire.
“Go ahead,” I called out. “Shoot me.”
Hodge and Morris didn’t move.
“Come on, you bastards. The game’s over.” I took another step forward. “I’m not running, so take your shot.”
Finally, branches rustled and my brothers strolled out. They weren’t grinning any more. “Think we won’t, just because you’re not sport?” Hodge said. “It’s just as fun watchin’ you bleed, pretty-boy.”
I glared at him. “Do it, then.”
Hodge raised a rifle slowly to his shoulder.
“Hodge. Don’t,” Morris rasped, taking a half-step back. “Christ, look at him. Look at his face…”
“Shut up, Morris. You just don’t want me catchin’ up to you.” Hodge lined up his shot. “Maybe I’ll shoot him twice. Then we’ll be even.”
But he didn’t fire.
“Go on, Hodge.” My voice sounded strange to my own ears, a low and rumbling threat I’d never produced before. “Shoot me.”
“Hodge!”
The thunder of gunshot swallowed Morris’s shout. I didn’t even flinch. And instead of the searing, explosive pain I anticipated, I felt the wind of a bullet pass my shoulder.
He’d missed.
It was my turn to grin. I didn’t say a word, and I didn’t have to. Both of my brothers stood there, frozen and gaping, and I was the first to move. I walked away.
Sometimes the dream kept going. I’d walked the woods for another hour, and no one followed me. No one spoke to me when I went back to camp, alone and un-shot, to finish field-stripping the grizzly. I had no idea what they’d said to Orville. That ni
ght was never mentioned again, and it was the last time they tried to play target practice.
They just found other ways to hurt me.
But this time, something changed. As I left Hodge and Morris standing there, I heard a sound behind me that had no business in the forest. A faint metallic scrape, a hollow pop. Like a lock being picked.
Specifically, the back door lock on my van.
I forced myself awake and opened my eyes, expecting to see darkness.
Instead I saw Sadie.
CHAPTER 10
Her face registered shock for an instant, and then disgust. “Damn,” she said, backing away. “You shouldn’t have heard me. You’re—”
“Human. Yeah, you’ve said that already. But I’m a light sleeper.” I was never far from a knife, and I pulled the big one from under my pillow as I sat up. “I know this won’t kill you, but it’ll be damned painful when I slit your throat,” I said. “Don’t think I’m not fast enough, either.”
“Come on. You won’t really hurt me.”
I lunged at her, pulled her in front of me and held the blade to her throat. “Wanna bet?” I said near her ear.
“All right,” she said carefully. “What do you want?”
“That’s the question I want you to answer. For starters.”
“Back off, and I’ll tell you.”
I was tempted to turn it around on her the way she’d done to me. Tell me, and I’ll back off. But I figured I’d gotten her attention this time, so I lowered the knife and let go.
She jerked away from me with a hot glare. “Maybe you’re not as stupid as I thought.”
“Yeah, well I’m not patient, either. So talk.”
“Fine.” She sat on the floor of the van, one knee bent and an arm propped on it. “I want your necklace.”
That wasn’t anything close to what I expected. “So what, you were trying to steal it?” I said. “You’re not a very good thief. First my van, now this.”
“You could just give it to me,” she said.
“No.”
“Why not? You don’t need it.” She looked at me with glittering eyes. “I’ll buy it off you,” she said. “Name your price.”
“Are you crazy? Don’t answer that.” I took a precarious seat on the wheel-well, facing her with the knife still in my hands. “Why do you want it, anyway?”
She batted her eyes at me. “Because it’s so pretty.”
“Goddamn it, why?”
“Give me a break!” Her shoulders slumped, and she huffed out a breath. “I’ve never had a human find out what I am besides them, okay? I’m pretty sure I’m supposed to kill you or something. Not tell you all my secrets.”
I held back a frustrated shout. “All right. Let’s simplify things,” I said. “You told me I don’t know what the pendant is. So what is it?”
She didn’t answer.
“Sadie…please. I’m asking you nicely.”
A frown tugged at her mouth. “It’s a moonstone.”
“Like, from the moon?”
“No. It’s a moonstone gem,” she said. “From Arcadia.”
The word I’d never heard before traced a fire through my blood. I pushed the feeling away, determined not to ask what it meant—not yet, anyway. One thing at a time. “And what would it do for you?”
She hesitated. Just when I thought she’d clam up again, she said, “It concentrates and focuses moonlight. Same as a luna-ball, only moonstones are permanent. They don’t need enchantments, and they don’t break.”
The dream flashed back to me with startling clarity. For now, I wouldn’t think about the implications that maybe it had all really happened. “It makes a full moon,” I said slowly. “Right? You use it to…”
“Go wolf.”
That made sense—as much as any of this did, at least. But I still wasn’t about to give her the pendant. “What’s the problem with getting another snow globe…I mean, luna-ball?” I said.
She sighed and rested her head on her arm. “What’s not the problem?” she said. “Short version, only the Fae can make them. And unfortunately, weres and Fae don’t exactly get along.” She stared ahead at nothing. “You don’t want to know what I had to do to get the last one.”
I almost felt sorry for her. “What about these moonstones? I can’t have the only one.”
“See, this is why you’re an idiot,” she said. “They belong to the Fae, period. I’d have to kill one to get it.” She closed her eyes. “How the hell did you get your hands on that, anyway?” she murmured. “They don’t even come from this world. They’re not exactly lying around for the taking.”
This belongs to you, Gideon. Keep it safe…promise you will.
I wasn’t going to share that particular story. “Never mind how,” I said. “Sorry, but I can’t give it to you. It might help somehow, and I need all the help I can get. I’ve got problems of my own.”
She raised her head and sneered. “Yeah, like what? Filing your income taxes? I’m running for my life here.”
“So am I.” I glared at her until she looked away. “And unlike you, I don’t know jack shit about what I’m dealing with,” I said. “I know Milus Dei is after me. That’s where my information ends.”
Her expression softened. “I’m sorry for that,” she said. “If you hadn’t helped me…”
“Yeah, well, apparently that’s not why they want me.”
“What?”
“They’ve been looking for me.” My jaw clenched as the helpless fury came flooding back. “I’m the key, or something.”
Sadie straightened suddenly, dragging in a harsh breath. “Who told you that?”
“The last guy you killed,” I said. “After you killed him.”
“My God,” she whispered.
“What? Look, if you know anything about this—”
“Shut up a minute.” She stared at me so intently, I almost felt half-naked again. “Did he say anything else?”
I really didn’t want to talk about this, to anyone. But there was no way I’d figure out what was happening on my own. She might be stubborn and condescending, not to mention a werewolf, but Sadie was my best chance for survival. “He said they’d find me, use me, and kill me,” I told her. “And he called me DeathSpeaker.”
She went pale. “You can’t be.”
“Glad I’m not the only one thinking that,” I said. “Do you want to tell me what the hell it means? Because the dead guy wouldn’t.”
“I…don’t know, exactly. But I know someone who does.”
“Who?”
“The Fae I got the luna-ball from,” she said. “And I can’t believe I’m saying this, but…I’m going to have to bring you to him.”
CHAPTER 11
I’d never realized there was another whole level of Manhattan under the subway tunnels. If I had, I damned sure wouldn’t have come down here on purpose. Creepy wasn’t a strong enough word for this dim, dank, rat-infested world beneath the world.
At least, I hoped it was rats making those sounds in the dark.
Sadie turned left and started us down another long, shadowed tunnel, lit only by the occasional dirty bare bulb. “We’re almost—” She cut herself off as a train rumbled above us, shaking the ground and knocking small showers of dirt loose from the tunnel ceiling. “There,” she said when the noise passed.
“Great,” I muttered. “Is it time to get drunk yet?”
“That’s not for us.” Before we came down here, she’d stopped at a liquor store and bought a big bottle of rotgut whiskey. “It’s part of the price for information.”
“So what’s the rest of the price?”
“Whatever he wants.”
I didn’t like the sound of that. “Am I right to assume there’s no money involved in this price?” I said.
“What do you know. He does have a brain.” Sadie flashed a smirk over her shoulder. “He doesn’t need money,” she said. “I have no idea what he’ll want from you, but it’s not going to be pleasant.”
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“What did you pay him?”
Her shoulders stiffened, but she didn’t slow her pace. “One werewolf tooth.”
“Jesus. You mean…one of yours?”
“They grow back. Eventually.”
My gut knotted a little tighter. “Who is this guy, anyway?” I said.
“Can you go two minutes without asking a question?” Shaking her head, Sadie fell back a step to walk next to me. “His name is Taeral, and he’s an Unseelie.”
“I thought he was a fairy.”
“Don’t ever call him that. He’s Fae.” She frowned a bit. “It’s not easy to explain,” she said. “The Fae are…complicated. There are Seelie and Unseelie, basically light and dark. But really, it’s more like dark and darker. The Seelie aren’t nice. They’re just polite about being cruel bastards.”
“And the Unseelie…?”
“Are a hell of a lot worse,” she said.
“Terrific.” This just got better and better. “Maybe I don’t need to know about the DeathSpeaker thing,” I said. “Not this bad, anyway.”
“Trust me, you need to know. If you want to live.”
I was starting to think I didn’t. Being dead would be less complicated.
Sadie stopped suddenly and held an arm out, blocking my path. “This is the entrance,” she said. “You can’t go through yet.”
“Uh-huh. Not gonna argue with that.” I stared at the jagged black hole in front of us that seemed to empty into nothing. “I don’t want to go through.”
“Don’t worry. It’s safe—for me, anyway. It’ll be safe for you once I get Grygg to turn the spell off.”
“What spell?”
“The one that doesn’t allow humans to pass.” She smiled. “Be right back.”
With that, she moved forward and vanished into the blackness.
Wrong Side of Hell (The DeathSpeaker Codex Book 1) Page 5
