Halton Cray (Shadows of the World Book 1)

by N. B. Roberts

  Once he’d cut the hole, Seth returned to the car and traded the cutters for the shovels.

  ‘Ready?’ he said, handing me one, before making his way through the fence.

  I nodded and followed him inside, leaving Thom a spectator. Seth pointed out the spot for Thom to confirm and there we started digging.

  ‘How deep are we going?’ I asked.

  ‘Three feet,’ Thom replied from the recess.

  ‘Them’s the rules,’ added Seth with a snigger. ‘Six for humans, three for animals.’ He shot up his eyebrows.

  A beam of streetlight found its way diagonally through the branches, hitting the patch of soil we excavated, near a lone grave. A shadowed mesh of leaves bounced in the breeze, yet shading it.

  I found the looser soil far easier to turn than English clay-ridden earth. The wind picked up and I wasn’t so glad to have it blown in my face. We struggled to see clearly in the dimness, but Thom couldn’t lend us his eyes. All he could do was try to keep his spirits up so that his mist remained fine, even as it engulfed us.

  ‘I’m sorry to you both,’ he said suddenly, as we gained on only the first foot of depth. ‘I’m sorry I cannot help and must sit here about as useful as a clown at a funeral.’

  I paused in my digging to reply, but a car pulled up in the road, and on turning, its headlights flooded the cemetery. Seth and I ducked down in the trench we’d so far dug and waited. The car completed a U-turn and pulled away.

  ‘God!’ I said, holding my chest. ‘I thought we’d been rumbled.’

  Seth whistled a tune of relief. ‘Me too!’

  When finished we concealed the open grave with loose vegetation. On returning to the car, I asked what was in the blue holdall. The mystery was driving me nuts.

  ‘I’m glad you reminded me,’ said Thom, reaching down to it as he sat again in the back. The bag was at his feet. He unzipped it and pulled out a sealed bag containing a dark liquid.

  ‘Is that blood?’

  ‘Donated this morning.’ Seth nodded.

  ‘That’s what you were doing?’

  ‘No! I didn’t donate that,’ he said in a manner that this was a ridiculous deduction. ‘I stole them.’

  ‘Them?’

  Thom smiled and fished another from the holdall.

  ‘You stole blood? From where?’

  ‘Got them from a local church holding a drive. I gotta say, I didn’t feel right about it, being inside a church and all, but I didn’t have much choice in that. Thom was very specific about getting these before they went to storage at a bank.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because,’ said Thom, ‘not only would it be easier to obtain a few bags that way, but getting these after storage might be too late. I need the blood whole – not just parts.’

  ‘So, is that everything you’ll need?’

  ‘Yes.’ Thom nodded. ‘Tonight’s the night, I hope.’

  He had by now removed three blood bags from the holdall and placed two in the roomy pockets of his coat. He stared at the other.

  ‘To human veins this stuff might still be usable, just. But to our demons it’s now a poison. It’s lived and died, no longer attached to a heartbeat or a soul, or to a thinking mind: something able to comprehend pain! It doesn’t just revolve around drinking blood. It is the act of drinking the blood of the living.’

  He placed that bag in his pocket too.

  ‘Only two more phases and our plan is complete,’ muttered Thom, distractedly.

  ‘Yep,’ answered Seth. ‘I just hope it goes smoothly.’

  ‘Thank you, both. I know you must be exhausted after digging that depth.’

  ‘Not exhausted.’ I smiled. ‘But close.’

  ‘No probs,’ said Seth. ‘I just hope no jerk goes in there and falls down it.’

  ‘From the look of it, Seth, I’m convinced no one ever goes in there. Had I sauntered past that place without knowing what it was, even I would’ve had trouble detecting it as a cemetery. Only as you both turned the soil, the faint smell of death rose up through the contaminated dirt.’

  Seth looked to me. ‘He’s keeping it light, as always.’

  I laughed.

  ‘But hey, I’ve a question; would Johan have changed me, made me like you, like he promised?’

  ‘I’m sure he would have killed you, Seth.’

  I liked that Thom used past tense. His confidence gave me some, even though I knew how possible it still was that Johan would kill him, and me, if our plan didn’t go accordingly.

  We were on Queens Boulevard heading for the Midway Tunnel.

  ‘Slow your speed, Seth. There’s an accident up ahead,’ said Thom, casually looking out the backseat window.

  ‘What makes you say that?’ he asked, leaning over the steering wheel to see as far ahead as he could. A few cars travelled the same speed. No sirens, no flashing lights or any hint of an incident. – It became obvious.

  ‘He’s sensed Death,’ I stated, wondering how many people were dead. ‘That’s sad. I hope it was quick.’

  The car in front passed under a bridge, and its paintwork shimmered with a ripple of blue light as it sped out the other side. A roadblock was in place. I could see the impact of a collision down one side of a car spun over the median barrier, and another sat upturned in one lane. Police were signalling for us to stop behind the cars up ahead. A queue was forming.

  ‘I need to get back to Johan’s place, while it’s still dark,’ said Thom, leaning forward, about to kiss me.

  ‘Pleeeease, you guys!’ begged Seth.

  I stared at Thom and couldn’t help but whisper, ‘We’ll make up for it later.’

  Thom’s eyes kindled, promising that we would.

  ‘So what about us?’ Seth grumbled sarcastically.

  ‘We’re not in that kind of relationship, Seth.’ Thom smirked. ‘I’m afraid it might take some time before they start filtering traffic through. But you’ll be safe here, at least. Text me when you get back to the hotel.’

  ‘Wait!’ I cried, as he put a foot out the door. ‘You’re definitely doing it tonight?’

  ‘Sooner the better. All I needed was the blood and the grave dug, and my assistants at the ready. Don’t worry, even if I manage it in the next hour, we won’t be moving him immediately. I wouldn’t want to risk it too soon. I have to be sure he’s really weakened – the demon’s survival instinct worn-out. That’s why I need to go. I’m hoping to catch him in his apartment – privacy when doing this is essential.’

  ‘Just please take care.’

  ‘Of course!’ He winked at me and left the car instantly. Neither Seth nor I saw in which direction he went. He completely vanished.

  Police taped off the incident up ahead and then stood around with what looked like little to do. An ambulance had already left the scene in a hurry. Another waited on standby, I believe, for a person to be cut out of the wrecked car. Traffic built up behind us. I turned quickly to look at it, and in that moment I noticed something ahead, standing next to the upturned car. I swung my head back to give it a full viewing, but it’d gone.

  ‘What’s up?’ asked Seth, noticing my double-take.

  ‘Death!’ I said. ‘Thom once joked that if you wanted to see the paranormal you should try not to focus – you’ll only ever see it in the periphery. As I turned away then, I saw a skeletal figure right next to that car.’ I pointed. ‘He wasn’t my dad, or anyone’s!’ I muttered.

  ‘What in God’s name are you talking about? Your dad?’

  I realised then that I shouldn’t have mentioned a word of it to Seth. Although he knew how Thom fed, and that he hoped to have his soul returned, he knew nothing more about Death. It was mine and Thom’s secret, and no one else should ever have that knowledge – it was too powerful, too dangerous for people to know. The shock of seeing him again – and unmasked – caused me to forget.

  ‘Nothing,’ I said, looking to him. ‘Just a bit of déjà vu. Thought I’d been here before and seen something up there.
It was weird.’

  ‘You can say that again, Alex. Don’t be telling me there’s a skeletal figure up ahead. I’m on edge enough as it is! You realise we’re sitting here covered in dirt, like we’ve just been digging an illegal grave. There are two shovels in the trunk, not to mention the fact we’re surrounded by cops.’

  ‘They’re a little preoccupied at the moment, Seth. Relax.’

  ‘You’re so British with your “relax”. You’re not even relaxed when you say it. That’s why we American’s invented the phrase “chill out”, because you automatically chill when saying it. – Try.’

  ‘Chill out,’ I said, inadvertently sounding like a cyborg.

  ‘Hmm. Maybe it only works with Americans.’

  ‘Seth, they’re opening up a lane.’ I pointed. ‘I thought we’d be here hours. He’s signalling for people to drive through.’

  ‘Yeah, but look at how slow they’re going.’

  ‘They want to see the body,’ I muttered, seeing some passengers pointing their cell phones at the car wreck.

  Once back in Manhattan, with the hotel blocks away, we headed north on Madison Avenue.

  ‘I can’t wait to wash the dirt and dust out of my hair,’ I said, as Seth stopped at the lights. ‘I’m absolutely coated. I can even taste it.’ I wiped my mouth and looked up, out my window.

  Johan! – I saw him and froze!

  Completely unexpected. He stopped at the crossing in front of us. Instinctively I slid down in the front seat to conceal myself. I told Seth to do the same. Seth automatically turned his head that way, but didn’t move otherwise. He stared out the window and said nothing. It was clear he’d been spotted. I saw the lights from here change.

  I whispered, ‘Go!’

  He pressed his foot down calmly. He pulled away as if he’d just been handed his own death warrant and decided it was futile to struggle.

  ‘Dammit!’ he blurted after a moment, staring in his rearview. ‘He saw me! He really stared, then scanned the car for others, too – for Thom, probably. Then he looked down the street and back to me. Dammit!’

  ‘Definitely recognised you?’

  ‘Clear as day! He stood on the corner staring. I should’ve been quicker. He didn’t see you, Alex.’

  ‘You’re sure?’

  ‘Positive. But Thom’s gonna be pissed!’

  ‘Did he cross the lights?’

  ‘Yeah. Looked like he’s headed for Central Park.’

  Seth took the next right. I didn’t think it was ours; he was just so shaken up.

  I pulled out my phone.

  ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘I’m texting Thom to see where he is. He needs to know that Johan has seen you. There goes his element of surprise! Johan’s going to expect him now. Only an idiot wouldn’t. – Oh! I didn’t see this message from Thom. He says he’s been back to his apartment but can’t find him.’

  ‘Dammit! Why’d that have to happen? Why!’

  ‘Do me a favour and pull over.’

  ‘What? No, Alex! Not a chance. Not with him lurking about.’

  ‘Do it! I have a plan.’

  Seth parked up.

  ‘I need you to call Thom right now. Tell him what happened and where Johan is heading. Tell him I’m going in there too, to keep an eye on him, or distract him if I have to! I’m– I’m not sure which yet.’

  ‘Don’t, Alex! Thom’ll kill me. Hell, Johan will kill you!’

  ‘Not according to Thom. If he sees me, he may try to lure me back to his place. Right – that’s the plan! Thom said he needs privacy to do it. I’ll let Johan take me back, and there Thom can intercept him, catch him off-guard.’ I reached for the door handle.

  Seth grabbed my other wrist. ‘Don’t! Please!’

  ‘I have to. I made a pact. Seth, if anything bad happens, it was good to know you. Tell Thom it was worth it and I love him.’

  I jumped out the car and headed back in the direction we just came. Perhaps Thom was right and I was crazy. But if I was Johan, I would now expect an ambush. Either I would run or I would feed hastily to improve my chances. I couldn’t allow Thom’s chance to slip away when he was so close to becoming human again.

  Thirty-three

  PLAYTIME

  ‘The ties that bind us to life are tougher than you imagine, or than any one can who has not felt how roughly they may be pulled without breaking.’

  – Anne Brontё, Agnes Grey

  The cloudy night sky seemed to promise rain, but the forecasters were right and it remained dry. I saw up ahead, between the streets, a section of greenery. I crossed over into the park passing a cyclist and a couple hand-in-hand. The fine breeze brought a faint lemony fragrance as it rustled through the branches overhead. Slipping between the shadows cast by trees, gates and posts in the lamplight, I entered on a pathway that circled the black water of the Park Reservoir. It was difficult not to look at the splendid reflection of New York City on her dark surface. Every few minutes a jogger or dog walker passed me as if it was the middle of the day. A backdrop of constant city noise regularly broken by police sirens echoed over the metropolis. I walked on, religiously checking my immediate surroundings as I left the water’s edge.

  I knew how unlikely it was that I’d just stumble upon Johan, as I rifled its many winding paths and looked over its commons. But I knew how I needed to not look for him. Johan would find me. It was the only way to play this.

  Having walked for around thirty minutes, passing through close wooded areas with many forked pathways, I came to a lake, then a large building, and eventually found myself near the Bethesda Fountain. People hung about it, despite the cold and the hour.

  I pulled up the hood of my jogging top, my eyes instinctively scoping every person in view. From the fountain I walked beneath the Bethesda Terrance, through its arcade. Its lights fully on and glowing overhead like honey. At the far end I mounted a great height of steps. Public restrooms flanked them, all locked up for the night. The stench of human urine was disgustingly intense. My footsteps echoed through that tunnel, up and out the other side.

  Relieved to have made it, I stopped at the top to look about. My throat so dry with agitation I could barely swallow. A choice of well-lit pathways ran in all directions ahead, each flanked with bright Victorian-style lamps. Benches lined every green and I saw one of them occupied by a homeless person. Presently, a vampire spoke with him. I moved slowly to rows of seating to my left. There I sat taking out my phone with clammy hands, trying to act natural. It was a quarter to two in the morning. The cold night air rushed against my face, bringing with it that bleach-like smell of him, sharp and stingy.

  I glanced up to find Johan still talking to the drifter – and I noticed here that the drifter was a woman. She was rather rough to look at with a badly cut bruise across her nose. Thom said Johan had a predilection for killing women, as well as preying on the poor and vulnerable. Perhaps she was his perfect victim. My eyes naturally inspected every shaded corner before me, hoping I’d somehow learn Thom was nearby. He should be by now. But I hoped he wouldn’t attempt to signal that he was there. I didn’t want him to risk alerting Johan, who hadn’t yet noticed me. No new messages came through on my phone, so I text Thom my whereabouts just in case. He was going to kill me, figuratively speaking. I wished I’d taken Seth’s number!

  Presently the drifter sat on her bench in more layers of clothing than an Eskimo. Johan was telling her something I couldn’t hear. A strange turn of his angular head, as if he’d smelt something distinctive on the air, and his dark shark-like eyes fell on me. I continued playing with my phone, daring not to make a sudden move. But the feeling of dread rose through my body, heating up and pulsing in my head, as like an alarm sounding – screaming – run!

  Naturally, I rose from the bench and headed for the nearest exit. I couldn’t help my instincts in that moment to escape. Only, I knew he’d seen me and would follow. I turned to look. I saw Johan heading my way, leaving the drifter on her bench unharmed.


  This was the climax. I must play along. Only an idiot would agree to accompany that frightening man back to his place.

  I walked on.

  Too soon he appeared at my side, pretending to catch me up. I kept my breathing paced.

  ‘Hello,’ he said in a heavy European accent with a slight American lilt. ‘Excuse me, I’m so sorry – I thought you were someone else.’

  ‘No problem.’ I continued walking. His scent now stronger burnt in the back of my throat, like I’d swallowed peroxide.

  ‘You’re Australian?’ He followed.

  ‘British, actually.’

  He narrowed his sharp eyes, as if I’d lied. Or perhaps he didn’t like to be wrong.

  ‘On vacation?’

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘Lost?’

  ‘Na-uh.’

  ‘What are you doing out so late? And what’s with all the dirt?’ He pointed to my clothing.

  ‘Are you the police?’

  He laughed, his harsh features toughened. ‘No. I’m just concerned. So where are you going?’

  ‘Nowhere in particular. I’m just waiting to hear back from friends.’

  ‘Friends?’

  ‘You ask a lot of questions,’ I told him.

  ‘I apologise.’ He looked away briefly. ‘Inquisitiveness is in my nature.’

  ‘Well, my friends and I were partying,’ I said with naivety. ‘We came to the park and messed around – hence the dirt.’ I gestured to myself. ‘We got separated and now I’m waiting to hear back from them so we can meet up and go.’

  ‘Go where?’

  ‘To my friend’s house. That’s where I’m staying.’

  ‘Meantime,’ he said, ‘you’re wandering about so late at night. I wouldn’t call those people friends, if they haven’t gotten back to you yet.’

  ‘They will. They’re probably just busy drinking and stuff.’

  ‘Aren’t you cold?’

  ‘Yeah.’ – Visibly so, I shook with both cold and terror.

  ‘I suppose if I offer to let you wait at mine, you’ll think I’m a serial killer or pervert?’