Long Night Moon (The Bradbury Institute Book 2)

by Sonya Clark

  Pete gasped, eyes widening. He lurched forward and grabbed his coat from the back of the chair, covering his lap with it. “Stop it! Oh god.”

  Horrified, Eve used a quick grounding technique to stop the energy. “I’m sorry! Are you…uh, are you okay?”

  Half-crouched over the table, Pete ran a hand through his hair, covering his face for a long moment. When he finally removed his hand Cranky Pete was back, scowling and stone-faced. “Don’t ever do that again! Shit, especially not in public.”

  “I’m sorry! I thought you were flirting with me and I wanted to flirt back.” Finding a rock to crawl under seemed like a great idea.

  “I was flirting with you. But what you did - you need to learn to control that before you go whipping it out.”

  Now it was Eve’s turn to cover her face. Embarrassment boiled a scalding path straight back to horrific memories of the awkward teenager she’d been years ago. She couldn’t stand to look at Pete, or even be at the table with him. Mumbling about the ladies room, she fled like a pathetic coward.

  Hopefully she’d find a gateway to another world in a bathroom stall.

  ***

  Pete knew he should regret speaking to Eve so harshly but he couldn’t. That flirtatious stunt of hers nearly made him humiliate himself, in public no less. Until she learned control she had no business using magic for any reason. Chet would have to talk to her. Explain the rules. Threaten her with disciplinary action if she didn’t watch herself.

  The thought of disciplining Eve made him groan and drop his head into his hands. He wasn’t going to tell Chet or anyone else what just happened. For one thing Chet would only laugh and say Pete had brought it on himself. Which he had, but still. He’d had no idea she could do that, and at such strength. With practice and fine-tuning Eve had the potential to be formidable. She had the potential to be…

  His.

  An image came to him of her in his bed, waves of long golden hair spread across a pillow. He shut it down before it could become more detailed. He was in public, for crying out loud. He had to get himself under control.

  The periodic table of elements helped him steady his breathing and heart rate. He recited the whole thing silently before he realized Eve had not returned from the ladies room. Probably hiding in embarrassment, something he understood all too well, but she couldn’t stay there all day. He’d go get her if he had to.

  A spike of energy pinged his radar. Before Pete had a chance to look around, a man took Eve’s vacant seat.

  Crantz.

  Dressed in a charcoal suit, black hair gelled off his forehead, the sorcerer smiled. “Good to see you, chap. How’ve you been since Frankfurt?”

  Fingertips itching for his gun or even better, magic, Pete gritted his teeth and hoped Eve stayed in the bathroom. “Fine. You? Had anyone hand you your ass lately?”

  The smile stayed pasted on Crantz’s face but his dark eyes went flat with a serpentine cold. “I’m not here to fight with you, Cadkin. I’m just here to deliver a message.”

  Crantz was just a flunky who worked for some unknown sorcerer or group who’d tried to take The Key of Darkness. A grimoire with that kind of power had no business being used but Chet believed that was exactly what they intended. Not that the institute had any idea who they were. Apparently they knew who Pete was, a fact that sent a tendril of fear down his spine. “So are you going to give it to me in code or a singing telegram?”

  Crantz produced a black gift box about the size of a shoe box. He kept his hands on the lid. “My employer requests a private meeting with you. Only you, not your institute. You are to be under the Long Night Moon at midnight.”

  Sideways. Hell no. “Tell your employer he can shove his request up his ass.”

  Crantz tapped the box, smile widening. “Yes, he thought you might say something like that. This box contains incentive. If you refuse the meeting, you will receive more pieces until there’s nothing left.” He pushed the box at Pete and rose. “Have a nice day,” he said, voice dripping with condescension.

  Pete stared at the box, nausea dumping acid into his gut. He didn’t need to open it. He knew. But perhaps he was wrong, and if he didn’t open the box she’d come back from the ladies room still embarrassed and wanting to go home. He would apologize. He would drive them back to the institute and cajole her into watching McQueen and Dunaway play chess and seduce each other. As long as he didn’t open the box, she was safe in the ladies room.

  But he had to open the box, didn’t he? So he did, lifting the lid tentatively. Black tissue paper covered the contents. He pushed it aside. A coil of long golden hair lay in the box. The scent of Eve’s herbal shampoo wafted out, mixing with the sour stink of his own fear.

  Pete could not go to Sideways.

  He would not go to Sideways.

  He had to go to Sideways.

  Three years of relative peace shattered like brittle glass, inviting every single one of his private nightmares out in the open.

  Chapter 8

  Chet rounded up everyone he could find. Only the core staff was left. Judith addressed the group in her office. “A nightmare goblin appears to have crossed over. For those who haven’t dealt with them before, they are nasty little creatures. They can induce sleep, followed by weaving nightmares into your subconscious. If you’re lucky and wake quickly, it seems like an especially bad dream. If the spell is strong enough it can bring on psychotic episodes.”

  Franny hugged her little dog closer to her body. “How do we catch it?”

  “They like shiny things, sweets, and blood. We’ll set traps throughout the building. Hopefully it won’t take long to catch the thing.”

  Chet said, “We’ll work in pairs so we can watch out for each other, keep each other from falling asleep. Maura’s raiding the kitchen for cookies and whatever else we can use.”

  “I know I could use some coffee,” Irvine mumbled as he ran a hand through his hair.

  Judith nodded. “We’ll definitely keep the caffeine flowing until we catch the goblin.”

  “Is this a capture only or can we kill it?” Sanngrid passed her favorite knife back and forth between her hands.

  “I’d prefer we capture it and send it back across the gate,” Judith said. “But I won’t shed a tear if we have to kill it.”

  Rami still looked upset from the nightmare that woke him earlier. “I say we kill it.”

  Chet designated teams. “Okay, Niall’s with Maura. Franny and Rami, you two. Bettine’s with me. Judith, you and Irvine?”

  She nodded. “Yes.”

  Chet looked at Sanngrid. “Where’s Pete?”

  Sanngrid shrugged. Franny said, “Uh, he might be in town with Eve.”

  “Ooh,” Rami said with glee.

  Franny wagged her eyebrows. “I hope so.”

  Chet thought for a moment. Pete was handy as hell in situations like this, though he would definitely be for killing the goblin in bloody fashion. If he’d finally worked up the courage to spend time with Eve, Chet didn’t want to ruin that for his friend. “Okay, if they come back and we’re still dealing with this we’ll set up a trap for them to watch. Otherwise, I say unless this becomes an emergency we just let them enjoy the day.”

  “That’s fine,” Judith said. “Sanngrid, I want you to rotate through the teams once the traps are set. For now, I want you to go bring up some things from the weapons room.”

  Rami said, “I’d like a flame thrower, please, with a side order of C4.”

  Sanngrid grinned. “I’ll bring you a nice big sword.”

  “Ooh, me too,” Franny said. “And can you bring Mac’s protective gear?”

  “Of course.” Sanngrid addressed the director. “Anything else?”

  “That’s all for now.” Sanngrid left. Judith said, “All jokes aside, this creature is a bad piece of work. If you have to run it through with a sword, do it. I’d prefer no damage to the building or anything in it, but I absolutely do not want any of my people hurt.”

 
; “We’ll put the traps together in the Oracle,” Chet said by way of calling an end to the meeting. Everyone shuffled out slowly. Spending part of the holiday on a goblin hunt was no one’s idea of a good time.

  Bettine examined her fingernails. “This is beyond tedious.”

  “I know.” Chet squeezed her shoulder. “I’m really hoping it won’t take long.”

  “It better not.” She rose to her full height, giving her dark hair an imperious toss. “I had plans for you tonight that would make last night seem like child’s play.” She stalked out of the office.

  Chet swore. That goblin would be caught by dusk or he’d kill it himself.

  ***

  Pete shivered in the throes of memory. Blood dripping down a wall of bone. Screaming so constant he’d forgotten what quiet felt like. He swayed, reaching blindly for something to steady himself.

  As awareness returned, he realized he was leaning against the gun locker. Pete shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. He needed to be at his best, he needed to be strong. He hadn’t felt so weak in three years.

  The box had fallen to the floor, Eve’s hair tumbling out. He stared at the gold strands. Memory superimposed an image of shining white bone twisted by dark magic and wrapped around his bloodied wrists. With a shuddering breath he wiped his face to dispel the sight, then held out a hand. It shook uncontrollably. He grasped it with his other hand, pressing them against his chest as he slid to the floor. The taste of wet and salt on his lips told him he was crying.

  Someone entered the room. Unable to speak, Pete didn’t move.

  “Pete, what are.” It was Sanngrid. She switched to German but for once he couldn’t follow it. Crouching over him, she brushed tears from his face and switched back to English. “What happened? Peter?”

  He swallowed and found his voice. “Crantz took Eve.” He flicked his gaze to the box.

  Sanngrid followed his eyes. “Scheisse.” She rose. “I’ll get Judith.”

  Pete grabbed her hand, pulling her back down. “No! He said only me. His boss wants only me. I have to be under the Long Night Moon by midnight or they start sending more of her.” He choked on the last few words.

  Sanngrid stared, the shock of seeing him in this condition clear on her face. No one at Bradbury had ever seen him like this, not even when he first arrived. “Whatever this is you have about Sideways.” She shook her head and covered her mouth for a moment, looking down at the hair spilling from the box. Then she met his gaze again. “Can you do this?”

  His worst fears whispered no. “I have to. I can’t let them kill her.” He pulled himself to his feet, unsteady, nauseated, but standing.

  Sanngrid stood and went to work assembling items onto a wheeled cart. “There’s a nightmare goblin in the building. I have to take these to the Oracle. Then I will be back and we will make a plan.”

  “You can’t go with me.”

  “The hell! Look at you! You’re in no condition to do this alone.” Knives and short swords clanged as she dropped them on the cart. “Besides,” she said as she opened an antique trunk. “Who better to have your back while you raid the Long Night Moon than the daughter of a Valkyrie and a Navy Seal?”

  Pete could think of no one better. “We’ll have to keep you out of sight when we start to get close.”

  “Don’t you worry about me.” She withdrew a weapon from the trunk, presenting it to him with great flourish. “For you, my friend.”

  Bloodsinger.

  The sword originated in the Court of Twilight, made of an obsidian blade a shining inky black and a hilt of copper and quartz, all of it blended and hardened by Fae magic. It gleamed like a clear star-filled night, its razor edge echoing of blood. The sword whispered to him when he wrapped his hand around the hilt. Glad to feel the touch of his skin again. He’d defeated its former owner, earning the sword’s allegiance. Not that Pete had wanted it then, but it had helped him escape. As soon as he’d found Bradbury he’d stored it in the weapons room, not wanting to hear it murmuring to him. Now he listened carefully. Testing the edge with his thumb, he gave the sword a drop of his blood. It soaked into the obsidian and the blade gave a pleased hiss.

  “Sanngrid?”

  “Yes?”

  “I’m gonna want guns, too.”

  “Of course.”

  An hour later found them trudging through the snow to the Sideways gate. Laden with weapons and armor, it was slow going. The closer they got to the gate, the longer it seemed to take to get there. Pete wanted to hurry, or perhaps never get there at all.

  They paused several feet from the tree that marked the entrance to Sideways. Pete shivered but not from the blustery cold. “I can’t ask you to go with me, but the hell of it is I can’t ask you to go back either. I know I need backup.”

  Sanngrid said, “We already settled this.”

  “If you’re going with me then you have a right to know some things.” He stopped short. It had been three years since he’d spoken of his past. Judith had demanded the truth from him if he was to stay at Bradbury, but she’d kept his secrets at his request. “I have a price on my head in the Valley Below.”

  “I figured there was a reason you didn’t care for Sideways.”

  Pete drew Bloodsinger from its scabbard. The weight of it in his hand helped him get the next words out. “The Queen of Bone wants my skull. She vowed to drink my blood from it, after she decorates her throne with my entrails.”

  Color drained from Sanngrid’s face. The sacred vow of a Sidhe, even a self-appointed monarch in the Valley Below, was nothing to ignore. No matter how much time or trouble it took, the vow would be fulfilled. Only the Bone Queen’s death would stop it. “That’s…disturbing.”

  “Once I cross over, chances are it won’t take long for her to be alerted. She’ll send people after me. I’ll be lucky to be able to cross back. So we’re gonna do this quick and dirty. I can get us to the Long Night Moon after we cross, then we find Eve. Whoever’s between us and her dies.”

  “I don’t have a problem with that.”

  He looked at the tree. The time for planning and stalling was over. His gut clenched. He gripped Bloodsinger’s hilt tighter. “Let’s go.”

  Pete led the way. As they came closer the tree shimmered, its form coalescing into a Victorian era street lamp. He paused again. “Have you travelled much over there?”

  “No, never.”

  “You can go overland but we don’t have that kind of time. We’ll have to take the portals.”

  “How does that work?”

  “Pretty much like the gates on this side. You just have to know how to find them.”

  “Are there maps?”

  He shook his head. “They can move around. You have to know how to recognize the signs.”

  Sanngrid looked grim. “Let’s get it over with then.”

  They crossed the gate, energy humming all around. Pete ran a hand over the lamp, trying to recall good memories of Sideways. They were there, buried deep, but covered by too much pain. He sheathed Bloodsinger and checked to make sure Sanngrid stayed close.

  They didn’t have to travel far to reach the first portal. An ice-covered tree shimmered in the darkness, reflecting tiny diamonds of light. Pete opened his senses. Sanngrid would hear nothing but to him came the low whistle of wind through an open doorway. Whether he was able to hear it because of the magic in him or some other reason was still a mystery after all this time. He just knew he was grateful that the ability was still there, even though it brought a clammy sweat to his skin.

  Pete led the way through the tree, stepping into it with confidence. Energy fizzed around them, parting like a curtain of electricity. On the other side waited empty desert, dry and hot under a blazing sun. Briefly disoriented, Pete scanned the surroundings for signs of another portal. Nothing but sand and sun were evident.

  Sanngrid stepped up to his side. “Uh, Pete.”

  “Yeah, I know. Hold on, it’s here somewhere.” Pete reached out with his senses
to search for magical energy. The trouble was, they were in Sideways. The place was full of magical energy of one kind or another. Portal energy had its own quality, though, so he tried to narrow his focus for that.

  He was about to give up and go back the way they came and start over when he realized that was exactly what he needed to do. Back through the same portal, but it would come out somewhere else. There were more than a few like that in Sideways. It could make travel damned near impossible. Much in the way that magic required intention to work, using the portals required a leap of faith. Common sense and even instinct might argue against it, but sometimes it was just the way things worked on this side.

  “Let’s go.” Pete led the way back through the portal. Sanngrid followed without comment, letting her dubious expression speak for her.

  They walked out into cold air and silver light. Dark cliffs cut jagged lines out of the side of a high mountain. The clear glass of a still lake rested at the bottom of the plain, dotted by snow drifts all around. The moon hung full and heavy and too close to the horizon to be real. It was a moon no one ever saw on the other side of Sideways. Deep in the heart of the Winter Court, the Long Night Moon was the full moon of the winter solstice, the longest night of the year.

  Pete nodded with grim satisfaction. “We’re here.”

  “My gods.” Sanngrid stared at the moon. “It’s…it’s unreal.”

  Somewhere behind him a horse neighed. A dozen horses surrounded them. The riders all wore dark leathers and wielded swords, their faces tattooed with intricate patterns in woad.

  Shadow Raiders. Shit, I might as well have taken us straight to the Valley Below.

  “Game on, Valkyrie.” He drew Bloodsinger and charged.

  Chapter 9

  Franny tapped her feet on the thick carpet, bored. So far no sign of the goblin. MacGuffin snuggled at her side. Rami sat against the opposite wall, silent and brooding, clutching a short-handle axe. They were in the hallway outside the magic lab, with a trap set up several feet away. It looked a bit like a bird cage, with a trail of cookie crumbs leading to a cupcake on the inside. Franny didn’t know if it was a good idea for them to be within sight of the trap but Rami had not been interested in discussion.