City of Secrets (The DeathSpeaker Codex Book 5)

by Sonya Bateman

  “Do you have a name?” I said.

  It blinked rapidly, turning to look at Taeral, then Sadie, and back to me. “Eli. Eli … just that. Eli-just.”

  “All right. Eli.” Well, he was probably male. At least I could stop thinking of him as ‘it’. “Where did you come from?”

  He shuddered again and lowered his head. “The badmen.”

  Okay. That didn’t sound ominous at all. “What bad men?”

  “The badmen hurt me,” he whisper-squeaked. “I ran. To find my friends.” His head lifted a fraction. “Are you my friends?”

  “Oh, you poor little guy!” Sadie crooned, barreling past me as she rushed over to him. He flinched and tried to climb through the wall again, but calmed down when she took his hand. “Yes, we’re your friends. I’m Sadie. This is Gideon, and Taeral,” she said, pointing us out. “Are you hurt right now? Or maybe hungry?”

  “Sadie,” Taeral said carefully. “We know nothing about this … Eli. I’m not certain it is wise to—”

  She cut him off with an icy look.

  “Very well,” he said, raising both hands in surrender. “Do what you must.”

  “I planned on it. You can interrogate him later, when he’s not terrified and starving.” She crouched slightly and smiled at Eli. “Would you like something to eat?”

  He blinked. “Please,” he said. “Please, sorry.”

  “Oh, don’t apologize. It’s no problem,” she said.

  “Yes, sorry. I like … to eat.”

  “Then, that’s what we’ll do. Come with me.” She straightened, still holding his hand, and led him across the room without looking back.

  I waited until she was through the door, and murmured, “That was fun.”

  “Indeed. I’m not certain what I’ve done, but she’ll not forgive me for the rest of the night, at least.” Taeral sighed and paced a few steps. “The bad men,” he said.

  “Yeah, if I had to guess — and apparently I do — I’d say he escaped from Milus Dei. He’s definitely Other.” I still didn’t think Eli was a threat. But I couldn’t help being slightly concerned about his earlier words.

  He said to.

  We really needed to find out who said to do what. In case whatever ‘he’ said had nothing to do with finding friends, and anything to do with Milus Dei’s usual plans to crush us all.

  CHAPTER 9

  By the afternoon, Sadie had pretty much adopted Eli.

  She’d given him a bath, and Taeral had healed his current injuries. They were mostly minor, a bunch of cuts and scrapes, but a few of his bones had been broken. And it was obvious he’d suffered multiple major injuries in the past.

  He’d also undergone surgeries. A lot of them. As a former paramedic, I’d had enough training to recognize the signs, even though he was more rat than human. Basically it looked like he’d been assembled like Frankenstein’s monster. Stretched and stitched, injected and distorted into something completely unique. But there was no rhyme or reason to any of it. Whoever did this to him was interested in the process, not the result — a living creature with emotions, intelligence, and no idea what he was or where he belonged.

  Eli’s road hadn’t been an easy one.

  With careful questioning under Sadie’s strict directive not to scare him, we managed to learn a few things. He wasn’t a were-anything or a shifter of any sort. What you saw was what you got. He’d gotten into the Castle through the basement by way of subway tunnels and old, unused water pipes. He didn’t know how old he was, where he came from, or anything that happened to him before he showed up here. The words ‘Milus Dei’ had no effect on him, positive or negative.

  And he had vague memories of a man telling him to run and find his friends, but the only thing he could remember about the man was that he was ‘red.’ So maybe he was a redhead, or wearing a red shirt, or covered in blood. Or maybe rats weren’t very good at colors.

  When I left for lunch with Abe, Eli was sitting on the couch with Sadie, wearing one of Taeral’s shirts and eating an apple while they watched The Neverending Story. She’d allowed Taeral to sit in the closest chair, as long as he promised not to make any sudden moves that might appear threatening.

  He was less than thrilled with the arrangements.

  Abe was already seated at the Ninth Street Diner when I walked in five minutes later than I’d planned. He waved me over, and as I slid onto the bench across from him, he said, “If it isn’t America’s Most Wanted. You look like a mugshot, kid.”

  “Wow. Thanks.” I grinned and nodded at the marginally clean white mug already waiting for me. “How’s our coffee today?”

  “Almost hot.”

  “Perfect. You order?”

  “Got you one of those turnip burgers with zucchini fries.”

  “Yum.” I knew he’d ordered us both the usual. He was going to start asking what happened with the NSA, but there was something I had to do first. I already had my phone out, ready to send him a text. Just a single letter that meant nothing. I hit send.

  “So, what the hell happened … damn it. Just a second.” He fished his phone out, glanced at the screen.

  I snatched it from his hand and turned it off.

  “Okay,” he said slowly. “And now you’re going to tell me why you just did that.”

  I dropped the phone on the table. “Yeah. Agents Tweedledum and Tweedledamn have your phone bugged,” I said. “They knew I called you about the Valentines.”

  “Christ on a busted crutch!” Abe clenched a fist and glowered at the phone. “I really hate the damned Feds. Did I tell you that?”

  “Maybe once or twice,” I said with a smirk.

  “Bunch of pushy bastards with sticks up their narrow asses,” he grumbled. “When I go back, I’ll have the lab take it apart and clean it up.”

  I held a hand out. “I think you should leave it for now,” I said.

  “Why? They don’t have a right to listen to a word I say.”

  “No, they don’t. But it might come in handy later, if we have them ‘overhear’ the wrong thing,” I said. “Know what I mean?”

  After a brief pause, he laughed. “I like the way you think, kid.”

  “Once in a while, the brain cells manage to connect.” I felt the smile drain from my face as I said, “Those other victims the Feds mentioned … they were the Valentines.”

  “You’re shitting me. What, all of them?”

  I nodded. “Just as savaged as the vic in the cemetery. And not a drop of blood anywhere.”

  Abe paled a few shades. “Hell, maybe it is a vampire,” he muttered. “Gideon, I … don’t even know what to say. I guess I’m sorry?”

  “Don’t be,” I said quickly. “Believe me, I’m not in mourning or anything.”

  “Good, because I’m not sorry. Those sick sons of whores—” He cut himself off with a sharp breath. “Okay, so it is a serial killer,” he said. “But if we try to solve this, the damned Feds are going to cock-block us at every turn. What do you think?”

  “I think we do what we always do, Feds or not,” I said. “We stop the bad guys.”

  Abe grinned. “I knew you’d say that. What’s the plan?”

  I smiled, leaned in, and told him.

  CHAPTER 10

  Cemetery of the Pines was a lot less foreboding without the police, flashing lights, and mutilated bodies. Now all the dead people were where they belonged — at peace in the ground.

  And a few of the living were about to commit a minor felony. But it was for a good cause.

  Taeral and I walked toward the little stone church at the far end of the graveyard, under a cold, clear sky and the light of a half-moon. I was surprised Sadie had turned down the offer to come on this particular adventure. Usually she was furious if she got left out of anything that might be dangerous. But she’d wanted to stay with Eli, who still jumped a mile when there was an unexpected noise.

  I couldn’t blame the little guy. That level of trauma took a long damned time to work through �
�� something I knew from personal experience.

  As we passed the big oak tree where the body had been last night, I glanced aside, and stopped short. For a second I could’ve sworn I saw those two shapes again. Featureless shadow people, one taller than the other. This time to the right of the tree, about where the big spotlights had been.

  Taeral slowed and looked back at me. “What is it?”

  “Nothing. I think,” I said carefully, still staring at the spot. I could almost see something. A kind of smudge in the air, hovering at the limits of my vision. “Do you see anything that looks like people over there?”

  Frowning, he followed my gaze. “I see nothing,” he said.

  “Huh.” I sighed and shook myself. “Guess I don’t either.”

  “Perhaps you do,” he said. “This is a place of the dead, and you are the DeathSpeaker.”

  “Yeah, maybe.” I doubted it, though. I’d never seen any soul without trying really hard. And honestly, I didn’t want to start — because they’d be everywhere. “Let’s just get inside,” I said. “I’m a little creeped out here.”

  He shrugged, and we continued on our way.

  Someone had taken the crime scene tape down and fixed the wooden door leading into the church. Reun, the Seelie noble who’d eventually hooked up with Denei Duchene and become part of the family, had smashed it open a few months back and trashed the church. He’d chased down and slaughtered some Milus Dei members who came here to clean out their secret basement stash. At least he’d discovered the value of not murdering people in cold blood since then.

  Whoever fixed the place had also installed a shiny new deadbolt. Fortunately, that wasn’t a problem.

  I gestured at the lock and said, “Oscaihl.” It clicked open, and I depressed the old-fashioned latch and pushed the door open. The sanctuary had been restored, too. Old pews returned to their places, broken pews replaced. Floor scrubbed, swept and polished. At the far end of the sanctuary, the same velvet curtain hung against the wall behind the same lectern, with the same huge, leather-bound old Bible. Probably open to the same page.

  This place didn’t seem to be used for services anymore.

  Taeral followed me into the sanctuary and down the center aisle. “Where is this secret room, exactly?” he said.

  “The door’s behind that curtain.” I walked up the altar steps and pulled the curtain aside, revealing the spectacularly ugly tiled wall. Mottled one-inch squares in clashing shades of red, blue, and brown, arranged in a discordant non-pattern.

  Then I remembered I had no idea how to open the aforementioned door.

  “Um. One of these tiles presses down, and then the door opens,” I said. “I just don’t know which one.”

  Taeral gave me a look. “How did you open it last time?”

  “With a Reun.”

  “What rune?”

  “The tall Seelie one,” I said.

  He actually cracked a smile. “Really, brother. With all you’ve learned of magic since then, can you not think of a spell that might work?”

  “Yeah, I got one,” I said. “Open, sesame.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Never mind. It’s a Bugs Bunny thing. Before your time.” I smirked and stared at the wall for a second. “All right … nochtaan.” Reveal.

  A single dark blue tile, up and to the right, started to glow faintly.

  And behind us, I heard something thump.

  Taeral whirled around instantly. I let myself feel relieved that he’d heard it too, but it was a small luxury before panic set in. Someone was following us. That had to be it.

  The sanctuary was empty. No movement. Not even weird not-quite-there smudges.

  “Christ,” I said. “Maybe we’re both going crazy. You did hear that, right?”

  “Aye, I did.” The set of Taeral’s jaw said he didn’t think crazy had anything to do with it. “Get this door open,” he said. “If we’re followed, I will deal with it.”

  I nodded and pressed the glowing tile.

  A door-shaped section of wall swung inward to a descending stone staircase. I went down first, whispering “de’àrsahd” to light the near-total darkness with the moonstone. The steel vault door I remembered at the bottom of the stairs stood open, still bearing the massive, crumpled dent where Reun had smashed it aside.

  And beyond the door, the same trashed and just about emptied room.

  “There is nothing here,” Taeral said when he came in behind me.

  I spotted a light switch on the left-hand wall and flipped it up. The overhead florescent lights came on with a reluctant hum, and I turned the moonstone off. “Redfield said he was coming here to get some files, but he never made it inside,” I said. “He must’ve known about the cleanout. Maybe there’s something the rest of them missed, another secret door or something.”

  Taeral shook his head. Walking a few paces ahead, he bent and picked up a crumpled piece of paper from the floor. “This appears to be … a train schedule,” he said. Then he gestured at a metal utility closet. “And that is an umbrella. Very informative.”

  “Look, there’s something here. I know it.” I headed for the back wall, thinking I’d move some of the shelving aside and look for suspicious seams, or more ugly tile. “And whatever it is, it’s going to help us find the killer.”

  “And stop him from murdering our enemies?”

  With an exasperated sigh, I turned to face him. Then I looked past him.

  The shadow people were standing in the doorway.

  “Damn it, who’s there?” I said, gesturing sharply at the shapes. “Nochtaan.”

  My jaw dropped when they turned into actual people. Two guys. One of them only looked short, because the other was extremely tall. Like, Taeral’s height. And the tall one was stone-faced mad.

  But there was still something not quite … solid about them. They looked almost scribbly, like the reveal spell had rendered them partway and stopped working.

  “Gideon?” Taeral was still facing me, looking extremely concerned. “What is it?”

  The figures resolved all the way, and the not-tall guy turned to Stone Face. “Crud. I told you he could see us.”

  “Be silent, thief. I will handle this.”

  “You know, you really need to stop calling me that.”

  In the space of this bizarre conversation, Taeral turned and raised his metal arm. “Gaich seab—”

  “Iil’ga!” the tall one cut in.

  And nothing happened.

  Taeral let out a threatening snarl, and Stone Face stepped toward him. Damn it, they were going to kill each other without asking a single question.

  “Hey, knock it off!” I shouted. “Taeral, I don’t think they’re Milus Dei.”

  The average height guy grinned. “Thanks for not trying to kill us,” he said. “Don’t know what a Milus Dei is, but we’re not it.”

  “They are certainly not Fae,” Taeral snapped. “Who are you, and why are you following us?”

  Stone Face glowered. “Who we are is not your concern, you—”

  “Okay, cranky. It’s my turn to handle things.” The guy who wasn’t so tall moved forward. He and his partner, or whatever they were, seemed strikingly different. Not that I had room to talk being here with Taeral. This guy wore jeans and a short leather jacket, had light brown hair and winter-blue eyes with what seemed like black eyeliner around them. The tall one had long, shaggy dark brown hair streaked with black and white, and was dressed in a leather duster over a vest, but it didn’t look like he had a shirt beneath it. His eyes were big, weirdly round, and mostly black ringed with gold.

  In fact, they looked exactly like a wolf’s eyes.

  “So I think we’re looking for the same guy,” Blue Eyes said. “Big-ass shifter, likes to drain blood and rip out hearts?”

  I exchanged a startled glance with Taeral. “Yeah, I guess we are,” I said. “Do you have any idea what’s going on?”

  “Not exactly, but we do know one thing you might not,”
he said. “The killer is a djinn.”

  I blinked. “A what?”

  “You know.” He glanced at his angry partner and cleared his throat. “A genie.”

  CHAPTER 11

  “We are not genies.” Stone Face managed to make the g-word sound like steaming bowls of shit and vomit. “We are djinn.”

  “Well, he is,” Blue Eyes said. “I’m a hybrid. Human with a sprinkle of definitely not genie. Sorry, Ian. By the way, this is Ian. He doesn’t shake hands because he’s a jerk.” He moved toward me, extending a hand. “I’m Gavyn Donatti. Everyone just calls me Donatti, except Ian.”

  “Gideon Black.” I shook with him and nodded toward Taeral, who’d managed to match Ian’s level of furious disgust. “This is Taeral. He doesn’t shake hands because he hates humans. And strangers.”

  “So you’re not human.”

  “Well, I’m half,” I said. “But I’m his brother, so he’s stuck with me.”

  “Really? I’m like his great-great-great grandchild or something. With a bunch more greats.”

  “Donatti,” Ian said. “That is quite enough personal information.”

  “Aye, it is enough. This is ridiculous.” Taeral glared at Ian and folded his arms. “These two are lying. They’ve another purpose here, and it is not to help us. The djinn are a myth.”

  Ian took a threatening step toward him. “Is that so, fairy?”

  “I am Fae!”

  I recognized Taeral’s I-will-crush-you tone and moved quickly between the two of them. “Just calm down, okay?” I said. “It seems like we’re on the same page. If we talk about this for a minute, I’m sure we can work things out. Maybe we can help each other.”

  “We’ve nothing to talk about.” Taeral kept glaring at Ian, and I had the distinct feeling they were sizing each other up, looking for an opportunity to strike. “If they were not a threat, they’d not have concealed themselves in the first place. And that one is apparently a thief,” he said, gesturing at Donatti.

  He did kind of have a point.

  “Ex-thief,” Donatti said. “And we had to conceal ourselves. This place was a crime scene last night, and I thought you were a cop. Didn’t know what to make of your brother when you guys came back here.” He smirked, and added, “Plus, Ian doesn’t really blend in.”