by Laken Cane
She felt herself soften, the tiniest bit. “Karin Love is worse than dead. She’s a brain in a jar.”
He frowned. “What?”
“She’s caught in a tiny jar, at the mercy of her very angry daughter. At least, her spirit is. Karin Love is suffering unimaginably.”
“This like being buried alive?” he asked, interested.
“Absolutely. That’s exactly what it’s like. And I’m certain her captor thinks up new ways to torture the bitch every single day.”
“Still. That don’t really seem bad enough.”
She smiled. “Imagine you were confined in a coffin. Imagine that you were put away in a dark, dark place, where you couldn’t see or hear or move—you could only think. Day after day marches on, and you’re still hidden away in complete darkness. No one else is there. No distractions, no voices, no light.” She shuddered as her words made her imagine the horror of being a brain in a jar a little too vividly.
“You’d go crazy.”
“And you’d long for a death that would never come.”
“Trapped.” He swallowed, and his eyes went a little wide. “This might be good punishment.”
She nodded.
“What happen if the jar break?”
“If she manages to find a new body and walks in this world again, I will give her to you.” She took a step closer. “Because you’re right. I know what you can do, and I’m not against seeing Karin Love suffer.”
Her cell rang, and both she and Leon, spooked by her words, jerked.
She looked at her display, then barked into the phone, “She okay?”
“She’s fine,” Raze said. “But—”
“Then hang on,” she told him, and lowered the phone. She looked at Leon. “We good?”
He finally nodded. “We good.”
She beckoned to Jack and Roma and began walking back to the car, putting the phone to her ear as she went.
But Leon spoke again. “Rune Alexander.”
“One more second,” she told Raze, and turned back to face Leon. “Yeah?”
“You need me, you come find me.” He grinned. “I can do many bad things.”
She hesitated, then returned his smile. “I’ll take you up on that. I like bad things.”
“Rune,” Raze said, impatient.
“I’m here, Raze. What’s going on?”
“I followed Bill last night.”
She got into the car. “Let’s go, Jack. And?” she asked Raze. “Did you see anything?”
“I’m not sure.” He sounded puzzled, and she could almost see him frown.
“Tell me and I’ll help you decide.”
“I was following him. I’m certain he didn’t know I was there. I glanced away for a few seconds and he disappeared.”
“You glanced away.”
“I’m sorry, Rune.”
“He must have known you were following him.”
“I don’t think he knew I was there. Maybe he thought the person kicking his ass was there, but he didn’t know I was.”
“Well hell. I’m coming back. I’ll follow him tonight. Anything else?”
“Yeah, there’s something else.” He hesitated. “But…”
“What?”
“I searched for him for an hour before giving up. I went back to his place and waited across the street for him to come home. He arrived a little after three in the morning.”
“And?”
“He was covered in blood.”
“Son of a bitch! He got the shit kicked out of him and—”
“Rune.”
“What?”
“He wasn’t injured. It wasn’t his blood.”
Chapter Ten
“What is it?” Jack asked.
Roma scooted up to peer at Rune’s face over the back of the seat. “Rune?”
“What does that mean?” she asked Raze. “Did you confront him?”
“No. I got a picture for you, though. I’m sending it to you now.”
She took the phone away from her ear and waited, frowning, for the picture. When it came through, a bit grainy and dark, she stared at it for two minutes before finally turning the phone toward Jack.
“The fuck?” he said. “What happened to him?”
“Not his blood,” she murmured.
Bill stood at his front door, under the porch light, shooting a look over his shoulder.
He looked like a stranger. He wore a mask of splattered blood and his eyes were flat and cold.
Rune took a deep breath. “What the fuck have you done, Bill?”
“What are you thinking?” Jack asked.
She couldn’t take her stare off Bill’s image. “What do we know about him, Jack? Really?”
He shook his head and then adjusted his eyepatch, a sure sign he was uncomfortable. “I guess not a hell of a lot.”
“I don’t even know what type of Other he is,” she said.
Neither of them wanted to think Bill was not what he seemed.
That he was the bad guy.
“Why don’t you ask him?” Roma asked.
“I have,” Rune answered. “He’s not interested in sharing.” She looked at the picture again. “He’s not sharing anything.”
“He’s not a wolf,” Jack said. “Or a shifter. Or a demon. So what the fuck is he?”
“I think,” Rune murmured, “he’s something we don’t see a lot of.”
“What about you, Roma?” Jack asked. “Why don’t you tell us what you are?”
Roma scooted back into her seat and stared out her window, silent.
When Jack looked at Rune and lifted his eyebrow, she shrugged. “Anyway, when we get back, I’m going to shadow Bill until I know everything. I’m sick of this shit.”
“Yeah,” Jack agreed. “We don’t have many people we can trust. I’d hate to take Bill out of that category.”
“Jack,” Rune said, gently, “he’s not really in that category, is he?”
Jack said nothing.
Roma scooted back up. “Bill is a friend to both of you. Let me know if you need him killed.”
They swiveled their heads around to gape at her.
“I understand that it would be too difficult for you.” She smiled. “You’re welcome.”
“Roma,” Rune said, finally. “Don’t fucking kill Bill.”
“I won’t unless you need me to.”
Rune sighed and faced front once again. “I hate secrets,” she muttered.
“You’ve kept enough of your own,” Jack said. “None of us will ever forget what Jeremy did to you.”
“Don’t,” Rune said. Then, “That’s the only reason I didn’t want to press Bill. I might not like it, but we’re all entitled to our secrets.”
For once, Roma remained silent.
“Maybe he managed to kill whoever is attacking him,” Jack said, a few minutes later. “That’s why he’s bloody in the picture.”
“Yeah.” She looked at him. “What if no one is attacking him, Jack?”
Roma leaned up. “Who is Jeremy?”
“Dead,” Jack told her. “He’s dead.”
“You killed him?”
“Yes. We killed him.”
“Good.”
“Instead of following Bill, we need to confront him,” Jack told Rune. “Make him explain.”
“He won’t tell us shit.”
“Jack should have a talk with him,” Roma suggested.
Rune rolled her eyes, and Jack grinned.
Her phone rang and she glanced at the display. “Ellis calling to check in,” she told them, and put the phone on speaker. “Hi, baby. Everything good?”
“Our girl is fine,” he said. “But I want you to be prepared when you see her.”
Rune put her hand to her chest. “Prepared for what?”
“Rune,” he whispered. “She’s got her fangs. Her little face…”
Rune pressed her knuckles to her teeth. She couldn’t speak.
“She looks like a sweet little b
aby monster.” He took a deep breath. “Just like you, mama.”
She bit her lip to stop its trembling. “Fuck,” she whispered. “She does?”
“She certainly does.” She could almost hear his smile. “Nothing will ever change the awesome that is Kader Alexander. Nothing, Rune.”
But her heart thumped painfully against her ribs and she couldn’t breathe. When she’d been a little child—older than Kader, true—and her fangs had come in…
Don’t think about it.
Kader was not alone. Kader had people to teach her what everything meant. People to give her the boundaries she would so desperately need.
Kader had Rune.
And finally, she was able to breathe. “I hate that I missed that milestone. Send me a picture.” She knew Ellie. He’d have taken a dozen pictures.
“She’s already dropping and retracting them on command,” Ellis told her. “I love this child, Rune. I love her.”
“I know, baby.”
“She okay?” Jack asked.
“Her fangs came in,” Rune told him, and there it was—the pride. Her fear dissipated as though it’d never been. Residual shame melted away like ice under a hopeful sun. “Ellie’s sending a picture.”
“I’ll be home soon,” she told Ellis, and disconnected the call.
When Ellie texted her a picture of the baby, Rune could do little but stare. Kader, her curly black hair framing her face, smiled at the camera. Her fangs were almost too tiny to see but they were there. And her monster…
Her monster finally peeked from her baby blue eyes.
Her cell rang again while she was still staring at her baby’s picture. The display showed a private number, and she had the sudden urge to throw the phone out the window.
Instead, she answered. “Alexander.”
“Rune, it’s Jill. Where are you? I came to the caves and there’s no one but that masked man. He took off and said to call you. Where are you?”
“Calm down and tell me what’s wrong.”
“Have you left? Have you gone?”
Rune frowned. “Yeah. There was no reason for me to stay.”
Jill gave a loud, wet giggle. “Oh, God, yes, there is reason for you to stay. You have to come back, Rune. And you have to hurry.”
“What the fuck is wrong, Jill?” Nothing was going to make her go back to Killing Land. She had a kid waiting and too much to do in River County. No matter what Jill needed, she knew she wasn’t going back to fucking Killing Land.
She was wrong.
“There are people falling from the fucking sky, is what’s wrong,” Jill shouted, hysterical. “People. Monsters like I’ve never seen. They are falling from the sky, Rune, right into Killing Land.”
Chapter Eleven
Before Rune had time to put her horrified stare on Jack and tell him to turn around, Gavin Delaney, in all his gargoyle glory, landed with a thud onto the hood of Jack’s car.
Roma shrieked, Jack swerved the car, and Jill’s canned, crazed voice screamed from the phone.
And Rune couldn’t deal with any of it.
She leapt from the rolling vehicle.
She thought she heard Jack and Roma calling her back, and knew she heard the gargoyle roaring her name, but she ignored them all.
Because people were falling from the fucking sky in Killing Land.
People, monsters.
People.
Her people.
Maybe.
Maybe her people were falling from the sky.
Had Gunnar gone back, opened a portal, and somehow those in Skyll were falling through the gap into Killing Land?
Could it be?
“I’m coming,” she screamed, and she flew faster than the wind back down the highway.
Back to Killing Land.
She realized she should have told Jack.
She’d need backup.
There were monsters.
But he’d find her—he and Roma and even the fucking gargoyle.
They’d find her.
She was at the edge of town before she actually saw shapes dropping like dark stars from above. Seconds later she heard the screams, and then she saw bloodied, dazed humans running haphazardly away.
And they were being chased.
Chased by crawlers.
Crawlers.
The urge to escape was strong, but she shoved through the injured humans and shot out her claws.
The crawlers were in her world.
She was about to make them regret that.
They’d lost something of their invincibility and power on entry, and it didn’t matter that there were dozens and dozens of them. They were slower, and she saw a woman turn and end one of them with a butcher knife. The crawlers she’d been exposed to would have eaten a butcher knife.
They were definitely weaker. Less.
She had a moment to wonder if Gunnar was wreaking so much havoc in the awful Skyll that the place was breaking apart and its creatures were being flung through the cracks.
She hoped he was giving them hell.
Some of the Killing Land humans sat in puddles of blood and watched her with dull eyes and pale faces, and those still untouched and able to escape threw desperate, terrified looks over their shoulders as they ran.
Some of them joined her in the fight—she caught sight of Luciana and a few other familiar faces, and in moments, more of them had gathered themselves enough to pull their weapons and join the fight.
Finally, there were more Killing Land citizens fighting than running or dying.
She felt a quick spark of admiration as they fought back to back and helped her send the attacking crawlers to hell.
Still more crawlers dropped from the sky.
And she yelled and fought and killed and spit black crawler blood from her mouth.
She tried to ignore her automatic reaction to the creatures…
But as they seemed to grow in strength and as they kept dropping to the ground—the insidious fear started to squeeze her heart, harder and harder.
Shhhh…
There was that damn soul-crushing cold fear.
There were the memories.
She knew what they were capable of.
She fought on, slashing and cutting and killing, and the blood flowed and flew and hung in the air like a horrific curtain.
People began to fall back beneath the rushing horror of the crawlers, but she refused to give ground.
She would not.
She would stand where she was and cut them down and she would win.
“Motherfuckers,” she screamed, and whirled faster, almost, than any of the humans would have been able to see. She accepted her rage, rejoiced in it, and she ripped into the crawlers with everything she had because she had to show them…she had to show them—that she was to be feared.
She was the terror.
The bastards had hurt her. So very, very badly.
She had to show them.
So she did.
Crawlers fell beneath her claws, her teeth, and her rage.
They fell beneath her terror and her pride.
They fell.
The scent of Skyll was strong and weaved in with it was the subtle smell of those she’d lost.
And for the first time, she didn’t care.
She didn’t want them back. They’d betrayed her, the twins, the crew.
As she killed the crawlers, killed them viciously and with great, cleansing release and joy, she killed also those who’d abandoned her.
All of them.
It’s not over until I say it’s over.
It was time.
“It’s over,” she screamed. “It is fucking over!”
That was the day she buried the berserker, the cowboy, and the little blind Other.
Finally.
She didn’t just let them die, she killed them.
And she was glad to end the motherfuckers.
She shredded a crawler, relieved him of his head, and whirled, her claw
s seeking the next one.
She saw Gavin the Gargoyle flying toward her and watched him from her peripheral vision while she decimated another crawler.
He landed not six feet away with a thud that shook the earth, and the crawler he smashed beneath his massive, stony feet screamed as his guts squeezed out every orifice on his body.
“Rune!”
She turned to see Jack and Roma, bloody and deadly, fighting a few yards away.
Jack pointed.
She looked up, just in time to see that crawlers weren’t the only beings falling from the sky.
There were other monsters.
Kelpers, and creatures she didn’t recognize.
Things that looked a hell of a lot like the mutation she’d had locked up in the cave.
Perhaps those things had people locked inside them, as the berserker had been locked inside the horror with Brasque Dray.
Perhaps Lex or Owen was trapped inside one of the bloody, hideous monsters.
So she went after them.
She left the crawlers to Jack and Roma, to the gargoyle and the Landers.
Her long, lethal claws sliced the monsters in half before most of them had a chance to even crawl across the ground.
The fact that Will the Assassin was fighting at her side registered dimly on her mind.
“Roma,” she screamed, and waited for Roma to reach her side. “Start fires,” she told her. “Many of them.”
And she went back to killing anything that wasn’t of her world.
One of the Landers, half crazed with terror, turned his gun on her, unable, most likely, to differentiate between the clawed, bloody Rune Alexander and the creatures falling from the sky.
She felt pressure from the bullets as they penetrated her flesh, but there was no pain. No pain, and no fear.
Just blood. Thick, life-giving blood.
She sliced off his head.
She had no pain.
No fear.
And no fucking mercy.
Part Two
BENT
Chapter Twelve
When the Skyllians had ceased falling and the fighters stood bloody and injured and victorious and looked around, dazed, their world had changed.
Most of the enemy lay dead.
Those crawlers still living—but barely—lay on their backs, claws waving and snapping weakly.
