Wrong Side of Hell (The DeathSpeaker Codex Book 1)

by Sonya Bateman

  Damn. I hadn’t thought too much about getting out—it’d been hard enough getting in. “Long story. But basically, you were right the first time. I’m not human,” I said.

  “You’re Fae?”

  “Yeah, sort of. And I have an idea.”

  “What—”

  “Just a minute. Have to concentrate.”

  I stared at Hullman for as long as I dared, memorizing what he looked like. If we did this fast, maybe it wouldn’t have to be perfect. I wasn’t sure how I’d change the appearance of someone else, but hopefully the same principle as talking to corpses would apply here. Contact helped.

  “Okay,” I said, and took her by the arms. “Don’t move.”

  You are Tom Hullman.

  Sadie gasped. I felt something pass from me into her—and it left me weak, a little stunned. Must be that spark Taeral was talking about. I was actively using mine, and I had no idea how much was left.

  But it worked.

  “There,” I said as I let go and nodded at Hullman. “Now you’re him.

  The goon formerly known as Sadie raised an arm and stared. “How the hell did you do that?”

  “Um. Maybe don’t talk.” Okay, it hadn’t worked completely. He still sounded like Sadie.

  “I won’t.”

  “You just did.” I grinned, went to the door and swiped the passcard. The lock clicked open. I looked out, and far as I could tell, the coast was clear.

  We moved quickly down the hall of dungeon doors. Sadie shivered at every awful sound coming from behind them, but she didn’t speak. The route stayed clear to the elevator and the car arrived empty. So far, so good.

  Until we stepped off the elevator on the ground level, and were met by four armed men in SWAT black—with their weapons drawn.

  CHAPTER 25

  Something had gone very wrong. But I still wasn’t going to blow my cover, if I could help it. “Stand down,” I barked. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  “Subject Two-Six-Two, unidentified paranormal,” the one closest to us said. “Get on the ground, or we’ll open fire.”

  No way could they know that. They had to be guessing, so I decided to call the bluff. “Are you blind, son?” I said. “Don’t you know who I am?”

  The man next to the one who’d spoken first grinned and pointed at the elevator. “Weight sensors,” he said. “We know you’re the wrong mass for those bodies. You’re not Nigel Foley…but personally, I’m gonna enjoy finding out who you are.”

  “On the ground,” the first one said again. “Last warning.”

  Damn. So much for the glamour. I let the spell drop and tried to ignore the SWAT guys for a few seconds. Time for Plan B—not that I had one.

  But I did have a gun. And a moonstone.

  “Sadie,” I muttered. “Go wolf.”

  “What—”

  “De’àrsahd!”

  Light burst from the pendant. Sadie didn’t waste any time—she was already growling. I managed to pull the gun before shots erupted from the SWAT team. Two hit Sadie, one grazed my upper arm.

  It didn’t stop either of us.

  I knew I didn’t have a chance of hitting anything unless I was close. So I lunged at the nearest man in black, grabbed his gun arm and shoved it up while I pressed the barrel of mine into his throat and fired. No hesitation. His blood spattered my face, and he fell back dead.

  Part of me withered in horror at what I’d done, but I knew these guys wore body armor. A non-lethal shot wouldn’t have done a damned thing. And besides, what they were doing in this place was unforgivable.

  Sadie already had two of them down.

  The last man fired twice at me. One missed, the other carved a hot gash along my side. I had time to wonder how these bastards kept missing me when they were so close, before I jumped at him, slamming him into the ground.

  Another point-blank throat shot ended him.

  Shouts echoed through the building, and the elevator rumbled. There were more coming. I grabbed a second gun just in case, and shot a panicked glance at Sadie, who was still a wolf. At least she didn’t have to worry about running out of bullets. “Please tell me you know how to get out of here,” I said.

  “This way.”

  She ran down a hall, and I followed.

  It wasn’t long before Sadie started to slow down. As we moved through a large room full of old wooden pallets and crates, she stumbled and bashed into a wall. She stood there panting for a minute—and soon, she was Sadie again.

  “Can’t hold it,” she gasped, crossing her arms over her bare chest. There was an angry wound in her lower leg, and another at her shoulder. “Still not recovered…from the silver.”

  I remembered the syringes of silver liquid in the room where they’d been keeping her. Silver bullets were supposed to kill werewolves.

  These people were monsters.

  “Right.” I went to her and scooped her up. “Which way?”

  “Door at the end of the room.”

  I ran for it. “Then what?”

  “Stairs. Second floor…fire escape.”

  “Got it.”

  It seemed to take forever to reach the door. I felt weaker by the second, and not just because I was carrying Sadie. Something inside me was draining, fast.

  I finally got there and turned the knob, only to find it locked.

  “Great.” I’d either have to magic or shoot it open, and I had a feeling I couldn’t magic right now. “Have to put you down a second,” I said. “Door’s locked.”

  She nodded. I set her gently a few feet from the door and pulled one of the guns out.

  A shot fired before I touched the trigger—from the other end of the room. At the same time, the door lock clicked open.

  “Stay down!” I said to Sadie, preparing to blast whatever came through the door.

  I almost shot Taeral.

  “You son of a bitch!” I shouted, momentarily forgetting about the other guys with guns. “What the hell—”

  “Where is she?”

  Fine. Maybe now wasn’t the time for this. “There,” I said, pointing to her as a volley of shots rang out.

  Taeral glared and shoved past me, stripping off his duster as he went.

  I spared a few seconds to scope out the enemy. Three guys crossing the room in a reverse triangle. One of them talking into a handheld, the two in front firing at will.

  Then one of the two shooters switched guns to something that wasn’t police issue.

  “Boy!”

  I turned, and Taeral shoved a coat-wrapped Sadie into my arms. “Take her out. I’ll hold them off.”

  “You’d better be getting out, too.”

  “Move, damn you!”

  I snarled in frustration and ran for the stairs behind the door. Halfway up, I heard Taeral shout something in his language. Then a whole lot of gunshots. A brief pause in the firing, and he gasped a few words. There was a huge flash of light—followed by total silence.

  “Goddamn it, Taeral,” I said under my breath. After what I’d seen of this place, there was no way I’d leave him here. Even if he had handcuffed me and thrown me down a well. I’d put Sadie by the fire escape and go back for him.

  I reached the top of the stairs and went through the door into a large, open space. Wasn’t hard to spot the fire escape. It was right past the busted and splintered boards sprayed across the floor, where Taeral must’ve come in.

  Just as I got there with Sadie, Taeral stumbled through the stairwell door and collapsed.

  He was covered with blood.

  My gut wrenched. I set Sadie down and ran over to him, but he was already on his feet. “Take her out,” he said in a barbed whisper. “Do not help me.”

  “Oh, I’m helping you.”

  “Blasted…” He trailed off, and his jaw clenched. “Wait.”

  “For what? We can’t—”

  “Wait.” He turned to the door and gestured weakly. “À dionadth.”

  Translucent colors rip
pled across the doorway and stayed there, like a giant bubble.

  I wasn’t going to ask what that was. I’d just assume it would be helpful. “Come on.” I put an arm around his waist, and he hissed sharply. “Do I even want to know how many times you’ve been shot?”

  “No.”

  “Why did you come here? Don’t answer that yet.”

  “I’d not planned to.”

  I helped him limp across the room, and he actually picked up speed on the way. By the time we reached Sadie, she was standing against the wall—pale and sweating, but on her feet. “I can make it,” she said. “He needs help.”

  Taeral snorted. “I’ll walk on my own, thank you.”

  “All right,” I said. “Everybody’s a real tough guy. Let’s just get out of here.”

  Taeral shook his head, drew something from his pocket and whispered to his closed hand. In a blink he was dressed in SWAT black, complete with balaclava mask. He held out his arm and opened his fingers, revealing three quarters. “Take one.”

  We did. They all produced the same glamour—we were just another group of bad guys, searching for the escaped subjects.

  “They’ll not last long,” Taeral said. “Go.”

  For once, I was happy to do what he told me.

  CHAPTER 26

  They had my van staked out.

  I was furious about losing it, but I’d pick that fight another time. Getting back to the Hive was priority one. We managed to catch a cab, and I told the cabbie we were going to a costume party. In September.

  Like most cabbies, he didn’t give a shit. I just wanted to erase as much of our trail as possible.

  No one bothered to speak as we made our way through the subway and into the tunnels. The glamour wore off about halfway to the gate. I wasn’t sure anyone besides me noticed, or cared. An eternity later, we staggered into the tent and the cluttered front room.

  Taeral’s eyes promptly rolled back, and he crumpled to the ground.

  “Hey! Damn it, don’t you die on me.” I dropped next to him and rolled him onto his back. Besides all the blood, he looked sick as hell. Just about green—the same as when he’d been carrying those handcuffs around.

  I couldn’t tell if he was breathing.

  I glanced at Sadie, slumped on the dusty footstool he’d uncovered earlier. She didn’t look much better, but at least she was conscious. “Know anything about cold iron?” I said.

  Somehow she managed to turn paler. “The bullets,” she whispered. “They know what he is. I’ll bet they—you have to get them out of him, now.”

  “Great. Got any surgical tweezers on you?”

  She shook her head slowly. “He has…something like tweezers,” she said, and pointed. “Over there. Third shelf up, think it’s on the right.”

  I frowned and went over to the shelves. It took me a minute to spot the slim bronze object under a pile of scrolls. It was something like tweezers at one end, with a heavy stone bead in the middle, and something like a really big needle at the other end.

  “I’ll make it work.” I walked back and handed the torture-tweezers to Sadie. “Hold these a second?” I said. “I don’t know where the bullets are. Have to—uh, strip him, I guess.”

  She smirked. “He doesn’t do underwear.”

  “Oh, good,” I muttered. “Well, that just made my day.”

  I used my knife to cut his shirt away. The pants were easier to remove, at least physically. I tried to look just long enough to make sure he hadn’t been shot in the junk.

  His manhood was intact, but the rest of him wasn’t. I counted seven holes in him. The bleeding was bad enough, but the wounds also looked…scorched. Blackened around the edges and burning from the inside. Actual smoke curled from a few of the holes, and I could’ve sworn I heard faint sizzling, like meat in a skillet.

  I guessed cold iron was a lot harder on full-blooded Fae than it was for me.

  Shuddering, I grabbed a handful of nearby newspapers and started on the worst of the wounds—a smoking crater just under his ribs. I tried to dig around gently for the bullet. His body stiffened with the probing, and he let out a faint puff of air.

  Eventually I found it. He groaned when I pulled it out.

  I hoped that was a good sign.

  There was another hole just below this one, smaller with a slanted entry. I placed the not-quite-flattened bullet on the newspapers and shifted to get at the next wound. “I could really use a cloth and some water here,” I said to Sadie. “Any chance? This is going to get messier before it’s better.”

  “I’ll find something,” she said, rising slowly from the footstool. “Be right back.”

  “Thanks.” I felt bad asking her to fetch and carry, since she wasn’t in the best shape herself. But I could sense that there wasn’t much time.

  If I didn’t get this stuff out of him, he’d die.

  By the time Sadie returned with a ceramic pitcher of water and a clutch of stained rags, I still hadn’t found the second bullet. I couldn’t leave any inside him—they were poisoning him. But there was only one way to get at it. “I’ll have to cut him,” I said as she set the water down next to me. “It’s not going to be pretty, or clean. If I had my van, the right tools…” Christ, I hated those Milus Dei bastards all over again.

  She put a hand on my shoulder. “Cut him, then,” she said. “Your knife won’t kill him. Those bullets can.”

  “All right.”

  My hand wanted to shake as I grabbed the smaller knife from my jacket. It was sharper, more precise, but I’d never used it on flesh. I rinsed the blade in the water, paused briefly, and started cutting.

  He bled a lot. Way more than I was comfortable with. But I managed to extract the bullet.

  “Jesus.” I grabbed a few rags and tried to apply pressure, stem the flow a little. Two down, five to go. Taeral didn’t look any better or worse, but at least he’d twitched a few times while I was cutting him. So he wasn’t dead yet.

  Sadie knelt next to me and laid a hand over mine. “I’ve got this,” she said. “Keep going.”

  I nodded. “Push as hard as you can.”

  She held the rags down and watched me as I moved to the next wound. This one would be easier—I could see the dull glint of the bullet near the surface. “So… you’re ‘sort of’ Fae,” she said. “How’d that happen?”

  “Well, when a mommy human and a daddy Fae love each other very much…” I glanced at her and smirked. “I’m only half,” I said. “Guess I was a changeling. Switched at birth, all that weird stuff. That’s why I never knew.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “And Taeral did?”

  “Yeah.” I pulled the bullet fast, reached across him for the water and more-or-less clean rags. “He’s…my brother.”

  “He’s what?”

  “That’s pretty much what I said when he told me.” I sighed and rinsed the bloody tweezers. “Apparently, we have the same father. My mother—my real mother, not the freak show I grew up with—is dead. That’s whose body he sent us after.”

  “I’m sorry, Gideon,” she said softly. “That really sucks.”

  I shrugged. “Can’t be changed now.”

  “Yeah. Some things are like that.”

  The look in her eyes said she’d had personal experience with a crappy past. I decided not to ask right now. Just like me, she probably didn’t want to talk about it.

  Two more bullets came out with relative ease. I had to cut again for the next one, and he bled even more. While Sadie held pressure on the freshly gushing wound, I spent a good three minutes digging and probing to find the last bullet. If I could avoid it, I didn’t want to carve him up more than I already had.

  I was kind of hoping Taeral would just magically wake up when I pulled the last one. He didn’t.

  I leaned back on my heels and wrapped the newspaper around the spent bullets. They felt vaguely warm, and it still made me nauseous to touch them, even through the paper. “Now what?” I said. “He still looks…not very a
live.”

  “Give it a few minutes.” Sadie’s expression suggested her level of hope was about as high as mine—somewhere in the gutter. “Everything takes time with these guys. Er, with you guys, I mean.”

  “Yeah, I don’t think I’m welcome to be one of the guys. Taeral seemed pretty disgusted by the whole halfling thing,” I said. “I guess I’ll try to clean him up some. Can’t think of anything else…”

  I trailed off as I glanced at the motionless Unseelie, and then stared.

  He’d changed.

  His skin was blue. All of it, including the unmentionable part. Not sort of bluish like a corpse, but actual robin’s-egg blue. His face was longer and sharper, his hair thicker and more tangled, with pointed blue ears jutting through. The nails on his non-metal hand looked like thorns, and the arm had lengthened to match the artificial one. He’d gained extra joints in his fingers. And his slightly parted mouth revealed a dense row of thin, sharp teeth.

  “What the hell happened?” I blurted. “Is that a glamour?”

  Sadie was staring just as hard. “I don’t know,” she said carefully. “But I think…it’s no glamour at all. I think that’s what he really looks like.”

  I suspected this was not a good sign. Taeral didn’t strike me as the type to reveal his true self, or whatever this was, on purpose.

  Suddenly he sucked in a harsh breath. It came out of him with a terrible sound, somewhere between a roar and a scream. His eyes flew open.

  They weren’t even close to human.

  CHAPTER 27

  Angry, human-ish Taeral was scary enough. But this Taeral went way past fear, straight to awe-struck, abject terror.

  Bloodied and torn as he was, he wrenched himself upright and clambered to his feet. The primal sounds he made belonged in some deep, dark jungle. He shook himself and skewered me with a burning gaze. Then he staggered off deeper into the tent, panting and snarling like a wounded tiger.

  I met Sadie’s wide-eyed stare. “Should we go after him?” I asked.