Darker Streets: Heir Of November: Darker Streets (Uncollected Anthology Book 4)

by Phaedra Weldon

"No. Not really." I finally exposed my emotional pity-cry face to Ren. And as always, he didn't give me a judgey face or even say a word. He just used the edge of my hoodie to wipe my tears. "Why don't we get the suitcases back in the car and head into town. I'm in the mood for some café au lait and beignets."

  "Cafe Du Monde?" Oh man…the thought of that sweet, fried treat perked me right up. "And gumbo. I want some real gumbo."

  "Now that's my smile." He wrapped his arm around my neck and held me to him. "No matter what they say, Tay. I'm proud of you."

  six

  We drove into the city as the rain let up. Ren bought us gumbo at Evelyn's. It was good, just like I remembered it from my infrequent visits to see my grandmother. The rain came again and then left without much conversation. I sensed Ren knew I was feeling sad and as he always had, he waited for me to start a conversation.

  But I didn't.

  It wasn't until dessert that the questions came. The rain kept most of the tourists off the streets, so Ren and I found a seat under the outside awning of Cafe Du Monde. Once we sat down with our coffee and treats, I stared at the design in my au lait as Ren bit into a beignet. Sugar instantly coated his lips and I couldn't help but laugh. He looked panicked and wiped his mouth with a napkin. "It's nice to see a smile. Even if it's at my expense."

  "Sorry. I'm just…what the hell, Ren? I'm the heir—or so everyone believed—to a demon hunting family? I'm still having a hard time wrapping my head around all of this. I don't think I can get past believing demons exist."

  "Why? You dreamed about the worst of them."

  "I dreamed about it," I said. "Wait…you believe this?"

  "Yeah."

  "Why?"

  "Because I've seen them."

  "Where? I thought the story was the Cavanaughs got rid of them."

  He took another bite of his beignet, and then used his napkin. I'd never noticed how neat he was when he ate. Clean. And he always enjoyed his food. Especially sweets. Ren was the reason I usually kept hard candy in the pockets of my hoodie. "Over a hundred years, the Cavanaughs have vanquished, or for a better description, banished demons to the Dark Streets."

  "Yeah," I put up a finger. "About this Dark Streets. What is that? A town?"

  "It's more like a place that isn't a place. It's a dimension, a realm that can hold demons indefinitely and it's hard for them to get out of it."

  "But this Abbadon did."

  "Yes."

  "How?"

  "I don't know. No one knows. That's why the family was so eager for you to take the reins."

  And there I was back to feeing like a failure. I didn't even want the beignets anymore. Though I did sip the coffee.

  "Tay—"

  "It's okay. I just…"

  "I thought you didn't want to be a demon slayer."

  I laughed. "Are you crazy? Until today I didn't know that was a job option. No one bothered to tell me these things exist—and I'm not saying they do." I put my hands on the table and stared at the beignets and the melting sugar. "Can you understand how I'm feeling?"

  "Believe it or not, I can. It's disorienting to find out your life has pretty much been a lie."

  "Well, I don't think it's been a lie. I just think everyone conspired to keep me oblivious to it. I can't understand why."

  "Because Mom didn't want you to have to worry about the things she did. She didn't want you to end up as some shining beacon wielding a sword that…causes you all kinds of trouble. Your mother was just as adamant about you making your own choices and not falling prey to the family business."

  I narrowed my eyes at him as the evening wore on. The clouds made it darker than it was, but night would fall soon and I wanted to get on the road back home. "Why didn't you tell me all of this before?"

  He smirked. "Would you have believed me? I mean…me, telling you you're the descendant of a famous Demon Hunter? In this day and age?"

  "Well, if Granny fought them, it wasn't that long ago." I picked up my au lait and sipped it. The taste was perfect, with just the right amount of milk. "I'll admit, it sounds kinda fun."

  Ren choked on this coffee. He gathered his wits and wiped his mouth. "Are you serious?"

  "Well, yeah I guess it's fine to think about it now, knowing I'll never get to find out."

  "You want to be a Demon Hunter?"

  I shrugged. "What else am I going to do, Ren? I'm not good at anything. I have no real desire to do anything. I mean, I like volunteering at the shelter now and then." I set the cup down and blew air across my untouched beignets, spraying powdered sugar everywhere. "I need direction."

  When he didn't comment, I looked at him. And he was looking at me. Hard. His brows had pulled into a single straight line over his eyes. They looked…I don't know. It was a strange mixture of shocked and confused.

  "What?"

  Ren sat back as lightning broke through the clouds. "You're serious."

  "Am I? Do you have any idea what just happened? I don't, on this demon level thing. What I understand on a more human level is that it hurt. I felt their disappointment in that crypt. And it was a crypt…don't argue with me. It was as solid and real as this table and these chairs. All of those people believed I was their savior, their hero, their—"

  "Demon Hunter."

  "That. I don't know what they expected to happen—what I do know is that it didn't. I let everyone down."

  "You've never worried about that before."

  "Well, I have. I just haven't felt that motivated. I mean, what can I do in the world? I'm an heir. I have money. I have everything I've ever wanted, except my parents and…"

  "A purpose."

  He was right. My shoulders slumped. "I think I just want to go home. We can get these to go."

  "Okay. Maybe a movie night? Wanna binge on a series? The Good Wife is on Netflix."

  Even with my heart flipped upside down in my stomach and weighed down with my own limitations, Ren managed to make me laugh. "Geez…you're the weirdest guy I've ever met. But I guess it makes sense, you liking The Good Wife, because you know…"

  "Know what? What's a good show?"

  "Yeah, but straight men don't usually like that kind of drama."

  "Anybody likes that kind of—" Ren had been in the middle of putting the remaining beignets in a bag he'd requested. With his fingers covered in sugar, he glared at me. "What do you mean straight men?"

  "Just that. Straight men don't like that, so it makes sense you would."

  He set the bag on the table. "What exactly are you insinuating?" He blinked and then his expression widened. "You think I'm gay?" And he was loud. Luckily, we were the only ones on the patio.

  In fact…

  I looked back at the counter, and then the street. We were the only people outside. And in a town like New Orleans, especially the French Quarter, that was all kinds of wrong.

  "Hey, you need to answer me!" Ren put his hand on the table.

  "Ren," I said and put my hand on his. "Is something kind of strange?"

  He frowned at first, and then looked around. Ren twisted in his seat and then stood up fast, I knew I'd been right. All kinds of wrong. Ren knocked the bag out of the way and grabbed my hand. "We need to go. Now!"

  I jumped up as well, and let him pull me from under the patio and onto the sidewalk. We were parked a few streets over and I figured it'd take us a good ten minutes at a brisk clip to get to the car. The only problem with that was something changed as we crossed the road.

  The moment my foot touched the opposite curb, everything darkened. Even the smells turned acidic. I smelled urine and alcohol as Ren pulled me to him and wrapped his arms around me. I looked over his shoulder. The buildings were the same, even Cafe Du Monde, but the names were different. Everything was dirtier, grimier, and felt…oily. "Ren…"

  "Just…take a deep breath. I don't know how it happened…"

  I swallowed. "What happened?"

  "We're not exactly in New Orleans anymore."

  But I'd kind o
f already guessed that. "So we're…"

  "My, my, my…" came a voice I recognized. The voice of my dream. The woman with the smoky hair. "What kind of mouse did the cat drag in?"

  Ren moved me around as the same woman from my nightmare rounded the corner of the building in front of us. I started trembling. This wasn't real. This had to be a dream. The same dream. The one I'd had that morning.

  The woman put her hands on her hips. "Not many can enter the Dark Streets, unless they are of the dark. So I'd say…this little girl is Millie's granddaughter. My trap has sprung."

  "Trap?" Ren said. "Oh shit…run Taylor!"

  He did not have to tell me twice. I took off down the sidewalk away from the woman in red. I heard Ren's feet hitting the pavement behind me. I turned left…then right…and then right again until I rounded a corner and found myself in an alley.

  The same alley.

  "Wait, this is a dead end." Ren came up behind me. I turned and hit him. "What was that for?"

  It was the same in the dream, but different. In the dream, I hadn't known what we were running from. But I did now. Because I'd had the dream. "That was Abbadon, wasn't it?"

  Ren nodded. "And somehow we've moved through realms," he put his hands on my arms. "We've got to get out of here. If I recall the dream, we die at the end."

  "Yeah." I wasn't going to waste my time looking at the back of the alley. From the dream, I knew there wasn't a way out there. So we turned to run down another street. But same as before, Abbadon blocked the entrance.

  Ren pushed me behind him. "How did you escape, Abbadon?" he said in a commanding voice. "The Dark Streets are meant to hold your kind."

  "How isn't important," she said as she took another inch or two of the space between us.

  It was the same! No! Abbadon's dress dissolved and in its place was the tendrils of smoke, the living pieces of her hair. She glided in further, blocking our only way out.

  "I don't see the mark," she smiled. "There is no contract!"

  I had warning this time and I expected the tendrils of smoke to shoot forward. I knew they'd wrap around Ren's body, so I shot forward and knocked him out of the way. He hit the alley wall with a sickening thud and collapsed on the ground. The tendrils encircled me like the long, powerful arms of an octopus. They pulled my arms and legs in and kept me from moving. Their touch was like ice against my skin as she pulled me close to her. Her red eyes looked into mine and I saw no humanity. No reason for existence except to torture and kill innocents. I saw the grab for power and I saw…

  I saw…

  Take it.

  That couldn't be. But it was right there, hovering between us.

  Accept it.

  The sword from the crypt. It was right there! Shining in the air. The look of triumph on Abbadon's face told me she didn't see it!

  I wanted to shout to Ren to look, but he'd been knocked unconscious. I pushed through the smoke, moving as long as I knew it was smoke and nothing more. There was no substance to it. It was little more than air. A puff of smoke from a pipe. No power.

  My right hand broke free, and I grabbed the dusty leather bound handle. Again, it felt warm in my hand, but this time it was lighter.

  A lot lighter.

  The instant my hand connected, a bright light flared in my face. And in Abbadon's as well. She tossed me backward, and I fell onto my back and lost hold of the sword. Abbadon turned and cursed, her hands over her eyes as if she'd been blinded. I took that opportunity to get back to my feet and run to Ren.

  "He's okay. Don't worry. I won't let anything happen to him."

  This was a new voice. Male. Very nice. I turned to see a man leaning against the wall of the alley, just on the other side of Ren. Even in the shadows, I could tell he was nice to look at. He had longish hair to his shoulders and wore a long tailed suit jacket, a black hoodie beneath, tight leather pants and boots. His boots were the same as mine and buckled up from his ankle to his knees. He had his hands thrust into his pockets as he straightened and looked down at me.

  He had the same red eyes as Abbadon.

  Dammit! Another demon!

  Then he spoke in a commanding tone, a lot like the one I'd heard Ren use when we first saw Abbadon. "Do you, Taylor Cavanaugh, as the Heir of November, accept this covenant that was once blessed by the Twelve Angels in accordance with the strict laws of my penance?"

  Wh-what?

  "I—"

  "You!" Abbadon recovered and now faced us. Her hair stuck out all over the place and she was starting to look like a really, really big spider. "You live!"

  "Of course I live," the red-eyed man said. "I will always live."

  "Because you bartered your life for revenge," she spat. "Traitor!"

  But he looked back down at me. "Answer me if you want to live."

  I looked into his eyes and into his face. I could see him now and he looked like…

  Ren.

  "Ah-ha! I was right. There is no contract, which means that boy is your vessel!" Abbadon lifted herself up on her wisps of hair. It was the most horrific thing I'd ever seen. "I should have sensed you! Known that damn Hunter would protect you inside a human!"

  "Idiot!" the Ren Look-a-like said as he faced the morphing Abbadon. Yeah, she was looking more like a spider every second. "You know nothing about me. Or my family."

  "Your abdication gave way for my rule," she laughed. "I should thank you. But for now, I'm going to destroy the last of the Cavanaugh Hunters!"

  The Ren Look-a-like ducked a whip of black mist as he pulled his hands from his pockets. He rolled and came up next to me, his right hand out. "Make the pact! Accept!"

  "I don't—"

  "I'll explain everything to you, but if you don't accept it now, none of us are going to survive!"

  The big nasty Abbadon spider ran up the wall and spun a web to cover the gap between the buildings. My thought was she intended on trapping us in here, inside this tomb, and like a spider…

  "Yes, she'll feed on us," the Ren Look-a-like finished for me. "Please, Tay. You can make more of your life. You can make more of mine. And I don't particularly want to die right now."

  Neither did I. I glanced at the still Ren beside me and slipped my hand in the Look-a-like's. "I accept."

  Things got a little fuzzy for a few seconds after that. His hand disappeared and in its place was the handle of the sword. I held it out in front of me and it wasn't…

  It wasn't heavy at all.

  I stood up, guided by unseen hands and thrust the sword in the air. "Come and fight me, bitch of the night!"

  Okay…that was totally not me.

  It was me. Just relax and learn, Princess.

  That was Ren's voice in my mind, but it wasn't his voice.

  Abbadon screamed as she came straight down at me just like a spider would on a single thread of silk, only in this case, it was smoke. I turned and ran to the back of the alley and then up on the side of the wall. My body felt lighter than air—no it felt like air—as I turned and twisted as I brought the blade around and sliced through the strand of shadows.

  Abbadon fell the rest of the way and I landed on top of her now spider-like sectional body. My boots sunk into her gushy middle as I spun the blade like a boss and thrust the point down into her. She screamed again, and something very hot and very sticky shot out of her. I yanked the blade out, jumped up, and somersaulted in the air before landing close to Ren.

  She screamed and shrunk…and shrunk…and continued to shrink until she was little more than actual spider size. I raised my boot and stomped her flat. Abbadon gave out a tiny squeak.

  Seconds after that, the sword vanished. I went down as my knees gave, and warm hands caught me from behind under my arms. Those same strong hands came up behind my knees and picked me up off my feet. I felt light-headed and woozy but I also felt…

  Good.

  "Feels nice to accomplish something, doesn't it? To have a purpose?"

  I looked into his face and this time I saw the diff
erences between he and Ren. His face was longer, and there were the red eyes. "You're…a demon."

  "Yes." He set me down beside Ren and knelt with me. When he bowed his head to me I blushed. "I am November Night, chevalier to the Heir of November."

  So this was what was meant by a chevalier. "So…you're a sword."

  "Yes."

  "And you were the sword in my hand, the one back in that crypt."

  "Yes," he frowned and I noticed streaks of white in his otherwise grayish hair. "Are the questions going to continue like this?"

  "Yes." I rubbed my face. That's when I saw the mark. A silverish triskelion on the back of my hand. When I turned my hand, it gleamed.

  November held up his hand and I saw an identical mark. "This is the sign of our covenant. Though a lot of them call it a contract. I help you slay demons."

  "But you're…a demon."

  This time he narrowed his eyes at me and touched my temple. "Did you hit your head and I didn't see? Because you keep asking me questions I've already answered."

  "No, it's just that…you were contracted with my grandmother."

  He nodded.

  "So you're a demon who slays demons. Isn't that kind of…weird?"

  "I have my reasons. And all of them know of them. You will too, when the time is right." He moved past me and I smelled cinnamon again. He put his hand on Ren's neck. "I have to return. I'm afraid I can't be gone from this body for very long, yet. But that will lengthen in time."

  "Wait…" I put my hand on his wrist. His intense red eyes looked into mine. "So…are you and Ren the same person?"

  "Ren Bovem Cavanaugh is me. And I am he. But we weren't always like this. And that, my new mistress, is a story for another time. Suffice it to say, the Heir of November has returned." He leaned in and pressed a kiss against my lips. He tasted of cinnamon and vanilla.

  And then he was gone.

  So were Abbadon and the web, and the sky was clearing overhead. The rain was gone and the evening…starry. I was pretty sure we weren't on those Dark Streets anymore.

  Ren stirred and pushed himself into a sitting position. He had a nasty bruise on his cheek and dark circles under his eyes. "Oh…shit…I'd forgotten what that was like," he smiled at me. "Everything work out okay?"