Shades of Night (Sparrow Falls Book 1)

by Justine Sebastian

  He touched Nick’s face, fingers caressing his cheek, palm cupping his jaw. Nick’s reaction was automatic and violent: he turned his head, a snarl rising in his throat as he snapped his teeth at Crash. He met flesh for a split second before Crash jerked his hand away.

  “Too slow,” Crash said with a laugh. “But I admire your moxie.”

  He tipped his head to the side, the light sliding over his cheek to show the fresh scars there. Some deep, some shallow, roundish in shape and peppered along the lower half of Crash’s cheek down the side of his neck where they disappeared beneath the collar of his shirt. Nick couldn’t look away from them and Crash noticed, his smile broadening, stretching and morphing into something truly ugly.

  “Your cousin fucked up my pretty face,” he said. “I don’t think I’m going to forgive her for that either. I mean, what a bitch, right? Can’t let that stand.”

  “Don’t you dare touch her,” Nick said.

  Crash snorted. “Like you can really stop me,” he said. “And please stop spouting bad action movie lines at me. I expect better from you, really, I do. What I’m torn about though is… should I kill her or your little piece of dork ass first? Frankly, I’m leaning toward him. He’s a real nuisance.”

  Nick shoved Crash as hard as he could, which he found was actually much harder than he remembered. Crash flew away from him with a grunt and landed in the middle of the living room, the back of his skull barely missed the edge of the coffee table, much to Nick’s regret.

  “Leave them alone,” Nick said as images of Nancy and Wes dying in agony tore through his mind. Nick didn’t have to ask to know that Crash would not show them the mercy of killing them quickly. Nancy had nearly shot him in the head and Wes, to Crash’s way of thinking, was the one obstacle between his and Nick’s happily ever after. “I have had enough of your shit. It’s one thing to fuck with me, but don’t you fuck with them. Ever.”

  “Or what?” Crash said as he stood up in one easy motion. “Are you gonna fucking spank me if I don’t listen to you? They don’t matter, Nick. Get it through your thick skull, baby cakes. They’re just fucking meat.”

  “No.” Nick shook his head as he closed in on Crash. “No they are not. They’re my family, my friends, my—”

  “That little idiot in his khakis chasing Bigfoot across the countryside? He’s nothing, Nick,” Crash said. “That stuck-up, overeducated bitch? She’s nothing, too.”

  “That little idiot is my little idiot. I’d go on a million snipe hunts with him before I’d even touch you again,” Nick said. “And see, that’s where you’re wrong. He means a lot, but you… you mean nothing to me. Nothing. At. All.”

  “I have loved you forever and didn’t even know your face. You are my life and I know… I know you’re confused right now, but you will see, I made sure of it,” Crash said. “You are what I am.”

  “I am nothing like you,” Nick said, lip curling back in a sneer. “I know about Michigan, Crash. All of those dead people, all of those horrible things you did. Is that why you left? Were they getting too close to you, hmm?”

  “I left because I needed a change of scenery,” Crash said with a scoff. “They will never catch me. Think, precious. You cannot catch that which does not exist, at least not to the modern way of thinking.”

  “Right. You’re a werewolf,” Nick said. “How could I forget?”

  “You still don’t believe?” Crash asked, eyebrows jerking upward with genuine surprise. “After everything, you just close your eyes and pretend it isn’t there?”

  “There’s no such thing as werewolves,” Nick snapped, teeth clicking together on the last S. “I don’t know how or why you do the sick shit you do, but I do know you’re delusional. You might’ve tricked other people with your little act where you play the—what was it? Michigan Dogman? I’m not fooled though. I don’t know where you found that thing or how you trained it to do your bidding, but no matter how big and scary it is, a fucking dog is still just a dog.”

  Crash’s eyes narrowed and his lips drew back, baring his teeth in a snarl. “I do what I do because I can. That and I don’t like having close neighbors. My territory, not theirs, understand?” He cocked his head and added, “It’s kind of funny, too, sometimes. You should see the looks on their faces when I come calling. It’s classic, man, classic.” He shook his finger at Nick in a naughty-naughty gesture. “I must add, however, that I really despise being called a dog.”

  “I don’t care what you like or don’t like,” Nick said. “You know, I’ve had a lot of sex, it comes with the job and all. I’ve regretted some of it, hell, I’ve regretted a lot of it, to be honest. But I have never regretted fucking someone as much as I regret fucking you. For fuck’s sake, I didn’t even get paid.”

  Crash snarled at him, but didn’t say anything, though Nick knew he was far from done; Crash did so love the sound of his own voice.

  “For the last time: you’re crazy and I don’t want any of what you’re selling,” Nick said.

  “Let me tell you a secret, light of my life,” Crash said. “My mom, you see, she was a real bitch, if you get my meaning and she squirted me out in the deep, dark forests of Romania where people hardly ever go. I walked away from the trees, I evolved and I came into the world where men live. I wanted something bigger than deer to hunt, something with a little more bite. What I learned is that human beings are only sheep and I am the wolf walking among them. You call me crazy and maybe you’re right, but I am also the greatest thing you will ever see. I gave you a gift, one that you can never give back. I did it for you, Nick.”

  “You’ve seen one too many horror movies, read all the scary stories about slavering beasts howling at the moon right before they make their way through some small town, ripping the unsuspecting inhabitants apart because they just can’t help themselves,” Nick said, refusing to buy into Crash’s delusional bullshit about the origins of his birth. “I guess lycanthropy is a good excuse though. Sorry, officer, but it wasn’t me. It was my monster side.”

  Crash stared at him, blinking, mouth twitching like it was having a seizure until his lips curled up at the corners and pulled into a wide smile. He started to laugh; deep, hearty belly laughs. There were actually tears running down his face by the time he got himself under control.

  “See? That’s why I like you so goddamn much, Nick. You’re funny,” Crash said. “You think it’s the wolf that makes me this way? Really? But I’m the one that’s watched too many horror movies. Wowza! I am the monster side in this equation. The wolf just makes it easier to do what I want to do. My other half isn’t to blame for this at all and I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t try to pawn it off on that and oversimplify things. I’m not just along for the ride here, darling; I’m the one behind the wheel.”

  Nick’s nostrils flared and he almost stepped back from Crash. The man was a liar; a vicious, sleazy, psychotic liar. He heard the truth in what he said though and thought it might well have been the first time Crash had ever told him the full honest truth about anything. It was the scariest thing Nick had ever heard.

  Something in Nick’s perception was beginning to shift, a thing he didn’t want to believe and had ignored from the moment it first stirred in the middle of his brain; another consciousness, another, newer part of himself that had taken root and was melting into him. He was becoming it and it was becoming him and soon, they would be so tangled up they were the same. Crash had been born with it, and over the years as his madness had grown and warped and become brutal, he had driven that other thing—his other half—insane right along with him.

  They weren’t all monsters, no, but some of them really were.

  Nick wanted him gone, never to return though he knew it was wish that would not be granted. There was a silky voice whispering in the back of his mind, You’re going to die here. Nick begged to differ and even if that meant jack shit, he wasn’t going to just lie down and let Crash murder him like some fucking victim.

  “You keep sayi
ng we’re alike now and that’s so wrong, Crash. I am not a monster,” Nick moved closer to Crash, careful to stay out of his reach as he leaned forward and whispered, “I hate you more than I have ever hated anyone in my life.”

  Crash took a shaky breath, expression wounded, mouth quivering and his entire body slowly joining until he was shaking all over like he had been seized by a violent chill. He rolled his neck, vertebrae popping loudly in the quiet as he made a low whining sound in the back of his throat, bending over at the waist. The whining sound became a pained wail that rose into a scream and ran through Nick like electricity. Crash snapped upright again and all the pain was gone from his face. It was twisted into something made poisonous, rage so nakedly pure that Nick’s breath froze in his lungs.

  “I love you, Nick!” Crash roared, so loud it hurt Nick’s ears. There was something inhuman in his voice when he did it, twisted and strange.

  “Get the fuck out of my house!” Nick screamed back.

  Crash pulled his head back like he had been punched. He licked his lips and glared pure murder at Nick as he slowly began to shake his head. “I didn’t want it to come to this, Nick,” Crash said. “I only ever wanted to love you.”

  “Leave.” Nick thought about his phone, the outside line probably cut or ripped out. He thought about how Crash had let himself in and waited in the dark, still as stone. He had come there with at least the idea of hurting Nick, he just hadn’t made up his mind to do it until now.

  “I can’t do that,” Crash said. “No one can simply walk away from a broken heart.”

  Nick curled his lip back at that. “You sound like a bad country song.”

  “No, no, no.” Crash took his shirt off and let it drop to the floor then popped open the button on his jeans. “These days, baby, I’m singing the blues.”

  “What the hell are you doing?” Nick asked, backing away from him toward the counter. His truck keys were on the corner closest to the entryway to the kitchen.

  “I don’t want to ruin my clothes,” Crash said as he toed off his sneakers, kicked them out of the way then began to pull off his jeans.

  “Put your pants back on and get out,” Nick said. He thought about hitting Crash, but he was more concerned with grabbing his truck keys first. He was almost there, he had to keep Crash distracted while he grabbed them. He decided he would hit him on his way to the door, throw him off guard and balance while he bailed.

  “Nope.” Crash’s voice had become a flat monotone. He talked like a sleepwalker, dreamy and empty. He stepped out of his jeans and tore his socks off, tossing them toward the couch. “You hurt me, Nick. I can’t let you get away with that.”

  Nick reached the counter as Crash crouched on the floor, shoulders hunched up, back bowed, fingers digging into the carpet. He gasped and arched his back hard like a hand had reached under him and shoved at his middle. There was a cracking sound, a tree limb breaking under a heavy load of ice. A ridge rose in his back, long and bumpy, following the arch of Crash’s spine like his very vertebrae were ripping themselves loose of their moorings.

  Nick slapped out his hand, feeling along the edge of the counter for his keys and finding only smooth, cool Formica. A few seconds frantically searching and he knew he wasn’t going to find his keys. Crash had taken them, put them in his pocket or maybe tossed them into the darkness where Nick would never be able to find them.

  Crash loosed a strangled scream that was followed by more of those terrible cracking sounds. They were joined by firecracker-loud pops; wet, thick sounding noises that made Nick’s stomach churn. He could hear the rasp and pant of Crash’s labored breathing, then he growled low and deep, the sound caught between an animal living in a human throat and something that didn’t know the meaning of the word tame. Where he was standing, he could no longer see Crash and he didn’t want to. Whatever was happening to him sounded bad enough that Nick never wanted to see it.

  In order to get out the front door he would have to face whatever it was Crash was doing to himself. Nick had never been the kind of guy to come and go by the front door though; he slipped in the back and out again. There was no reason to buck the trend now.

  He turned and ran down the hallway just as Crash screamed from the living room. It was the shriek of two souls being torn apart and knitted back together with no anesthetic. Inside that tortured wail was the ghost of a howl, an echo of something feral. Nick slammed his hands over his ears to try and block it out, but had to let go so he could open the locks on the rear door and shove it open.

  There were no steps and Nick remembered not to jump even in his fear. The trailer sat high up from the ground in case of flooding, a jump down could mean a sprained ankle or even a broken leg, either of which would leave Nick lame, dead before Crash ever killed him. He sat down, scooted his ass over the threshold and dangled from the door, toes of his shoes only a couple of feet above the ground. He dropped down softly, slid in the dew-damp pine needles as inside the house something that was and was not Crash found its voice again and screamed.

  In that sound, there was no longer any humanity.

  Nick ran then, bolting headlong into the woods toward the creek that cut through the property. He could follow it about two miles southeast, cut across it there where it was narrow and in about another mile he would run right out into the side yard of Sheriff Mitchell Dunwalton. Declaring that he was being stalked and menaced by the goddamn Wolfman would not go over well with Mitch Dunwalton, he’d probably assume that Nick had again shown himself to be the drug-addled miscreant he once was.

  Nick was more than fine with that; as long as Mitch thought something was hinky then he’d be safe.

  Behind him a branch snapped and another, there was the sound of brush being shoved out of the way, heavy feet pounding the ground through the carpet of pine needles. It was moving fast, faster than Nick and he was running faster and easier than he had ever thought he could. He vaulted the trunk of a dead pine that had fallen over, broken about five feet up its trunk, the pale splintered remains like sparks in the darkness where they caught the moonlight. Nick landed on the other side with a thud and slid on the forest litter, almost falling down. He cursed and righted himself with ease, turning out of his skid and finding his balance again almost as quickly. The mistake had slowed him down and in his scrabble to stay upright, he’d very nearly come to a halt. Without the whip of wind over his ears and the harsh panting of his breath, Nick could hear everything again. And what he heard was nothing.

  The world was wrapped in a blanket of silence, no more crashing or breaking sounds, no sound of something large running full-out. Nick tilted his head back and took a deep breath. As the hairs on the back of his neck began to rise, something breathed hot breath over them and growled softly in Nick’s ear like it was whispering a secret to him.

  Nick turned his head and looked over his shoulder. Eyes like coins for the Ferryman glared back at him. It was crouched on the fallen trunk of the pine tree near the high end where it had fallen against another pine. The dead tree swayed under the weight of the thing on top of it, black as the sky above, fur gleaming in the shafts of silver moonlight that fell through the trees. The creature stretched out its neck and chuffed at Nick. Miss me?

  The urge to run was strong, leg muscles tensing and winding tight without Nick having to even think about it. He held himself still, the same tired knowledge whispering in his head: If you run, it will chase you. If it chases you, it will catch you. If it catches you, it will kill you.

  He was a dead man anyway, Nick could see it in the glint of starlight on the monster’s big teeth when it parted its jaws to pant softly, something jolly about the sound. He wasn’t dealing with a natural animal and finally, too late, he accepted that fact. He was staring into Crash’s grey eyes set into the face of a werewolf. Somewhere inside that fur and muscle, beneath the gleam of those sharp teeth and pointed ears, there was a very human brain ticking away like a time bomb; thinking, planning. Intending.

  Ni
ck began to back away, swallowing against the knot of fear in his throat. He could see in the dark better than he ever had before; he divided his attention between the thing crouched on the fallen tree and the ground as he chose his steps carefully, hoping he would not miss something and fall down. Falling was as bad as running, though Nick didn’t think it really mattered all that much anymore what he did.

  “Crash,” Nick said when the creature nimbly hopped down from its perch to stalk toward him. Nick held his hands up, palms out. “Come on, Crash. Don’t do this.”

  Crash cocked his burly head at him and chuffed. Why not?

  You don’t want to do this, was what came to Nick’s mind as a response to the sound of inquiry, but that would have been a lie. Crash very much did want to kill Nick, but he wanted to have his fun, too. Nick stopped his slow, backward walk when a fallen limb dug painfully into the back of his thigh and he winced at the sharp, unexpected pain. He had been watching Crash, not the ground and now the damn limb was caught up in the fabric of his pants and he was stuck. It wouldn’t be difficult to turn and pull it free, but if he moved, if he took his eyes off Crash then he was fucked.

  “I don’t want to die,” Nick said as he held perfectly still. He dropped his hands to his sides, moving the right one back to feel at the branch.

  Crash was watching his face, red tongue lolling as he moved closer. Crash stopped at his words and began to make a gruff rumbling sound that Nick took to be his version of laughter.

  “Yeah, it’s real funny, huh?” Nick said as he found the piece of limb caught in his pants. He wrapped his fingers around it, catching it between the crook of his knuckles. He twisted his fingers, breaking the little piece off with a crack.

  Crash snapped his head up, ears pricking forward and a low warning growl rumbling in the back of his throat.

  Nick froze. “It was a little twig,” he said as calmly as he could. “Don’t be so jumpy. You’re the biggest motherfucker in this forest. What could you possibly have to worry about?”