Jake was staring at me.
“I liked the way you looked. Before,” he said, his voice low.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“It’s Halloween,” he said. “You can wear any disguise you want tonight.”
I shook my head, trembling. No. I couldn’t. It wasn’t safe.
“I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
I looked into his eyes, wishing it were true. Wishing he were strong enough to protect me if anyone found out who I really was, if they turned on me.
Just then Hunter pushed his way to the center of the crowd. In one arm he carried a long stick with a human skull on top.
“Is that real?” I whispered to Jake, suddenly imagining my own head on a pike. That sort of brutality hadn’t happened since the Middle Ages. But it was part of my tormented Darkling heritage. It could happen again. Anything could happen if the humans realized Darklings weren’t myth.
“Of course, it’s not real.” Jake took my hand, pulled me close to him, then slid one arm around my waist. “It’s just part of the game. Hunter does this every year.”
“Game?” Suddenly I was intrigued. Like all Darklings, I loved games. Humans were so easy to trick, and if the game was played right I would win. That would be a tale worthy of boasting about around the fires of home.
If I ever went home again.
Chapter 73
Wet Wood and Smoke
Thane:
The press of so many humans crowded into one place was exhilarating. I drifted through the crowd, touching each of the warm bodies as I passed, feeding off their excitement and sugar high. My strength had grown throughout the evening. The broken arm had completely healed, and now I sauntered with a bravado I hadn’t felt in moons, each footstep claiming this little village as mine. I no longer masked my scent or pretended that I liked the fragrance of wet wood and smoke.
River clumped along beside me, trying so hard to maintain his disguise that all of his movements had become wooden and unnatural. He had followed behind me and the rest of the trick-or-treaters for almost a mile before he finally caught up with us. But there was no bitterness between us now. It no longer mattered whether the lad held his disguise. In this flickering firelight few would notice. Together, we were stalking Hunter, taking our time, knowing that soon enough we’d be sharing another feast.
Just then I stopped and ran a gaze through the crowd.
I could smell the presence of another Darkling, not far away, trying to hide, the sizzle of reality folding, casting a familiar odor into the brisk night air.
Then I found her standing in the moonlight, surrounded by a pale silver outline. Wearing human skin, hanging on the arm of one of the teenage boys—Elspeth. Even dressed as a human, she was quite lovely. I could see the Darkling features through her disguise, the delicate bone structure, slender chin, high forehead, all attesting to her Blackmoor clan lineage. And I could sense her hunger, though she tried to quench it. It made all the colors around her a smidgen brighter, especially those in the young man who strode with a quiet confidence at her side.
That was the one she wanted.
I snickered. Let her hunt. She deserved to take whatever she wanted, her father had all but abandoned her over the years. And soon all of this, including that teenage human she favored, would belong to me.
I grinned, a smile too deep and decadent for the six-year-old child that I pretended to be. Maybe, when this was all over, I’d invite her into my clan. She was a few years younger than I was, but she’d be useful. She could help train my half-breed children once they were born.
And she’d make a good mate.
I inhaled deeply, let her new scent swirl through my head—crushed rose petals and clover—imagined her training my children—our children—how to fly and hunt, how to cast enchantments. Maybe I would take a whole flock of wives, like they used to in the old days. A few humans mixed into the bunch.
Then I remembered Madeline.
I would find her, as soon as I was done stalking this group of sumptuous children. I watched Hunter, drank in the lad’s smell, smoke flowing from his skin in a shimmer of heat. Dangerous young man—his dreams would be dark and self-possessed and sensuous, a good addition to my stable. I longed to swoop down on Hunter now, mark him as my own.
Just at that moment, Hunter dragged a wooden crate into position, then climbed on top.
“Time for the tally and the dare,” he announced in a loud voice.
All heads turned toward him and all voices hushed.
Chapter 74
Rumbling Quake
Ash:
I could feel it building in the distance with a wild fury, the Legend was getting ready to slash through this mountain village. Like a butcher’s cleaver, it would separate bone from marrow, severing the protective shield that had become a part of the fabric of every building, every rock, every living creature in Ticonderoga Falls. In an instant, the glowing, almost invisible latticework would fall away. From the edge of Blueridge Mount to Cedarpine Peak, the village would be laid bare.
It began with a rumbling quake.
Already I could hear it sweeping down Main Street, rattling all the windows and shaking doors. It flipped several cars and it shred a furrow right down the center of the highway. Then it shocked outward with the force of a sonic boom, knocked a few people off their feet, and with a quirky twist, it shattered all the glass globes in the vintage-inspired street lights that lined the town square.
It would only be felt by those humans who happened to be in Ticonderoga Falls at the time. No outsiders would suspect a thing. But that didn’t matter, because I knew that it would be heard by every Darkling, wild or tame, for a thousand miles. And they would all know exactly what it meant.
Ticonderoga Falls no longer had a guardian. The humans who lived here were now fair game.
Chapter 75
The Dare
Elspeth:
The ground trembled and shook beneath us. The fence around the junkyard bowed and flexed; in the near distance, the line of trees rippled and waved. Instinctively, I wrapped one arm around Jake and covered us both with a Veil. All about us broken things began to tumble to the ground, until the aisle that led to the exit was choked with clutter and debris. The longer the quake lasted, the farther I cast my enchantment until nearly all of the children were sheltered beneath my covering. Even Hunter. I managed to keep him standing upright despite the tossing and the turning, always focusing my attention on the ever bright, ever strong moon.
And throughout it all, I felt myself growing stronger.
A strange whisper burned in my ear. It’s different now. I wished Father were here, I suddenly longed to see him, to know that he was safe.
Then as quickly as it had started, the quake passed.
Jake seemed to know what I had done. He smiled and held my hand, just as Hunter raised his arms, claiming his right to the dare.
“Every year we play a game,” he said, his voice triumphant, as if he had defeated the rolling quake himself. “This year I choose the dare and, with it, I command that everyone reveal their true nature tonight—”
Even from this distance, I could see a mischievous gleam in his eyes.
“—So, to get this epic adventure started, I’m going to sing something that my grandmother used to sing to me. She called it an incantation of protection—”
“No,” Jake said, shaking his head. He started pulling me toward the exit, climbing over the top of the rubble, trying to make it toward the hole in the fence. “We need to leave, Elspeth. Now!” I stumbled over toasters and microwaves, cut my arm on a broken mirror, all the while compelled to turn and listen to Hunter. “Close your ears, don’t listen to him,” Jake warned.
He continued to pull me along the top of the debris, one laborious step at a time. It would have been easier if we had just flown out, if I just dropped my disguise and carried him. It felt like I might be strong enough to fly a great distance right now, although I didn’t
want to leave. I kept stopping, turning around to face Hunter and staring at him, his words melting into a lyrical song, so like the songs of home that it made my skin flush and my shoulders ache from the hiding. I longed to cast off my mask.
“—you can no longer hide,” Hunter sang then, his voice strong and clear, “from those who dwell in the world of humans—”
Jake grabbed me by the wrist and began pulling me even harder over the top of the rubble. The exit wasn’t completely blocked off—I could see that now. But at the same time, a growl of rebellion was building in my chest. I wrenched free from his grasp, my eyes glowing.
“No!” I bellowed. “I want to stay!”
“—all you, who live in a perpetual state of pretend,” Hunter sang, “all wearing gowns made of false flesh, gowns fashioned from the fabric of dreams—”
Now I couldn’t move. My feet were fastened in place and my face was locked in position. I had to stare at Hunter, had to listen, had to obey the incantation that poured from his lips, sweet as sugar, lovely as the silver moon. Even though, for the first time, I finally realized the danger that was coming.
“—all you Darklings, near and far, must reveal yourselves now!”
At that moment, Hunter’s incantation sparked upward, toward the heavens, brilliant as heat lightning. There, it carved the night sky into colors and it wrinkled the clouds, then it reached down to earth with hands of mist and fog. The dark magic searched the junkyard, looking for the familiar fragrance of folded reality.
It was looking for me.
Without even glancing down, I knew that my skin was cracking, peeling off and blowing in the wind like ashes. Bits of the mask I had been wearing spiraled about me, turned into a dust devil of bright color before sailing away. I could now see two others like me in the human crowd.
Thane and River.
Their countenance dissolved, like a pile of crumbling autumn leaves.
They were frozen in place too, just like me.
The last note faded from Hunter’s song and I was released; my wings unfurled wide and I was compelled to soar overhead. That was when I finally knew the true purpose of this ancient spell—in a moment, all of the Darklings near and far would be revealed. And then, like me, they would all be pulled here in a great hurricane of flapping black wings.
As if this were a black hole that none of us could escape.
Chapter 76
Fingers of Ice and Fog
Ash:
I tasted primitive magic in the air, an age-old incantation spoken with a strange accent—the voice of the unpracticed. Enchantments take a lifetime to learn and this one was out of control. It snaked down streets and pushed open doors. It was looking for me.
But I didn’t want to be found.
Not now. Not when Maddie was so near. I could feel her pulse, could smell her dreams. I laughed lightly. Humans were the ones with the true magic, though they didn’t realize it. Sometimes a heavy emptiness had rushed through my veins when I envied humans their ability to sleep and forget, how they could rebuild their lives in a single evening. Those were the times when I realized how truly alone I was in this world. But right now, for the first time in a century, I felt as if I had just met a friend who could bring dreams to life.
And in a moment, it was all going to be ripped away.
I reached out, took Maddie’s hand in mine, tried to hold back the heat that had blistered her skin earlier. Her lips parted as if she was going to speak but didn’t know what to say. I gently turned her hand over and kissed her palm. Her hands had been burned and were now stained with my red-black blood. Just like Iris Wimbledon—Joe’s grandmother, the woman who had nursed me back to health after my injury, after the curse. If it hadn’t been for her, I would have surely died from that wound. Because of it, her hands had been scorched, my blood on her palms. The old woman with silver-white hair and tormented dreams had become my first Legend Keeper.
But now, everything was changing.
I wished that I could cast a Veil and stop time, prevent the inevitable.
Instead, I released Maddie’s hand and braced myself.
Chapter 77
A Distant Song
Maddie:
Ash pressed his lips against my palm and a rush of heat flowed up my arm; it spread across my shoulders and then spilled down my back like a waterfall. His eyes met mine and time stood still. An instant turned into eternity, and I knew then, that despite his flaws, this creature was more noble than any man I had ever met.
Then the door burst open.
A distant song reached into the room, followed by ghostly fingers of ice and fog.
Ash’s human skin cracked, fissures clicked and snapped along his jaw and his forehead. A thin black crevice snipped down his neck, branched into a thousand crackling tributaries, veins that circled from his chest to his back and then around again.
Then they all burst.
An explosion of color—a mock tornado—surrounded him, almost hid him from view. Now I could see through to his true skin, and I knew for sure that this truly was the creature that I had met in the forest, so many years ago . . . dark gray flesh, broad black wings, teeth that sparkled and eyes of silver. And he was still more handsome than anyone I’d ever met. His true self had been revealed, and for the first time I could see what a beautiful creature he truly was.
“Ash.”
It was all I could say.
The smoky mist wrapped possessive tendrils around him, lifted him off the ground.
“No!” Joe rocked to his feet, as if he only now became aware of what was happening. “Don’t let them take you!” He lashed out at the supernatural cloud that roped about Ash’s chest, that bound his arms and wings to his sides.
Then the song of incantation stopped. In a flash, the smoldering vapor yanked Ash out of the room and out of the house.
Both Joe and I ran to the door, watching helplessly as Ash soared down the street until he disappeared in the distant gloom.
“Get your coat,” I called to Tucker, but he already had it on. No one needed to speak of what had just happened or what we planned to do. It was instinctive. It was part of the incantation, though none of us realized it at the time. We all rushed out the door after Ash, even the dog galloped down the street, feet scuffing up clods of snow and dirt.
We ran, slipped and jogged down snow-covered streets, not even bothering to take the sidewalk or to get into a car. And as we ran, we were joined by other villagers, some wearing coats and hats, some dressed in pajamas, bathrobes and slippers. All of us hurled ourselves down the street as if in a panic, as if our lives—our very existence—depended upon it.
And not one of us stopped, from the youngest to the eldest, until we all stood at the junkyard.
Chapter 78
That Awful Quiet
Sheriff Kyle:
The pristine chill evaporated, turned into a sweaty panic-throbbing heat. I got ready to hike back up the ravine for the fifth time, my coat open, hat pushed back. Flashing lights spilled through the woods and over the highway. Three more deputies combed the woods and the deputy coroner picked his way down toward the dried-up riverbed.
“Nicole’s in labor,” he said, explaining why it took him longer than expected to show up.
“ ’Bout time she had that baby,” I answered, trying to smile but knowing that it hung wrong on my face. “Rodriguez is down there waiting for you.” I gestured back toward the pool of light that glowed in the mists. “We saw some coyotes earlier.”
“Lovely.”
“I was just getting ready to head over to the junkyard,” I said as we passed each other on the trail. “I want to check up on the kids. This might be our second body of the evening, and if it is . . .” I paused.
“You don’t need to explain it to me.” The deputy coroner held up a hand and kept walking. “I’d rather the body count didn’t get any higher. Do what you need to.”
I braced myself for the wind that had been howling through the mou
ntain pass, but when I climbed back out onto the road I was met with silence instead. The wind had died down.
It felt like that awful quiet right before a storm.
I wasn’t sure why, but ever since we found Agnes’s body I’d been worried about all the kids still out wandering the streets. The snow had slowed down. Only a stray snowflake fell as I jogged across the highway and got into my car. A quick glance to the locked rack between the two front seats gave me a surge of confidence.
My weapon of choice. A Ruger Mini–14 semiautomatic rifle.
I hoped whoever killed Agnes would cross my path sometime tonight. Because I was going to take him down, blow the legs right out from under him, knock him flat on his back.
Maybe I’d even blow the bastard’s head off.
My SUV plowed through snow and slush, faster than I ought, still, not fast enough. My skin rippled with gooseflesh, the sort of thing that used to happen when someone told ghost stories when I was boy. I couldn’t stop thinking about Agnes, all alone back there in the woods with no one to rescue her. Something swooping down from the hell-black sky to drag her off, screaming.
And then, sucking out her life, drop by drop.
Some evil beast was stalking this town and it was my job to catch it and kill it. Before it struck again.
I whipped around a corner, passed the line of cars with cracked windshields. Only a few more blocks and I’d be at the junkyard. Hopefully, all the kids were together. There was safety in numbers—though not much if they were trying to defend themselves against some unnatural demon.
That was when I heard it—an awful ripping and tearing, as if the village itself were being torn asunder, from foundation to crowning sky. An explosive crack rumbled and a massive furrow bolted down the highway, dissecting the road in two. I glanced in the rearview mirror and saw that an earthquake had just missed me. A second earlier and my car would have been tossed into the flanking woods like a toy.
Feast Page 19
