by J N Duncan
She grinned. “Fair enough, Sheriff.”
Nick stared at his watch and then back to his phone, counting each and every second. Two minutes later he swore under his breath. “It’s taking too long.”
“Oh, for God’s sake, would you—”
The cell rang, and Nick clicked in immediately. “You got her?”
“We’ve got a problem here,” McManus said, sounding far more confused than worried.
The casing of Nick’s phone cracked under the pressure of his hand. “What? What’s happened?”
“You better come on in,” he said. “She’s not here.”
Chapter 21
Jackie dabbed at her mouth with the back of her hand. The blood at least had stopped flowing. A few bumps and bruises, but nothing was hurt so much as her pride. The irony of being on the wrong side of the bars, while Chief Carson kicked back in his little office, stung more than anything else.
Nick and Shelby were not there. They would be out of town and getting McManus on the phone if they were smart. After ten minutes, things had quieted down a bit since Carson finally locked the front door to the station. After the fourth person stormed in wanting to know what Carson planned to do with those “goddamned ghosthunters,” he had thrown them out and kept them out.
It was like a fucking mob out there. Her demands to be released fell on deaf ears, as did her desire to make a phone call. Hell, he had not even bothered to book her in properly, just shoved her into the cell and turned the key.
“We’ll worry about those formalities later,” he had said.
“You can’t legally hold me here, Carson,” she had snapped back. “You have nothing on me.”
“Oh, we’ll come up with something, I’m sure. Harassment will work. Reckless endangerment maybe? Setting off an explosive device on city property? Hell, that might even be a terrorist act.” The snaky little mustache curled up, revealing a lovely, crooked array of smoker’s teeth.
“It was a fucking stun grenade! And your crazy citizens were shooting at us.”
“Justified,” he had replied. “Protecting their own. We do that out in these parts, Ms. Rutledge.”
“I’ll be out of here soon enough, and you’ll see what we do where I come from.”
Hon, don’t give that blowhard any more fodder to chew on. Just sit tight; Nick will have McManus here in a couple of hours, I’m sure.
I really hope that’s fast enough, Laur. This asshole is Charlotte’s lackey. He’ll do any damn thing she says.
Meanwhile, all she could do was pace back and forth in the small ten-by-ten cell, up to the door and back to the barred window. Elinore sat in a state of continual annoyance, repeatedly answering the phone and politely telling all callers that Chief Carson was unavailable for comments at this time.
More worrisome, though, was the thought that Charlotte might come through that door at any time and want her blood. She was a sitting duck behind these bars, and Carson would gladly open the cell to let her in. With every passing minute, Jackie’s nerves began to fray even more.
She’s going to come, Laur. You know she is. What the hell do we do? I can’t stand up to her. I’d have no chance in hell.
She’ll just want to threaten you, make sure you leave her alone, and we have to convince her that we will. She can’t afford to draw any more attention to herself. Keep to our story about Jessica. Our concern was for her safety, and that’s all.
And what about Nick? That can’t be good.
Laurel was silent for a moment. No, I suppose not. I can’t imagine what she’s thinking about that.
She wanted to kill him before. I get the impression that not much has changed over the past one hundred years.
You might be right, but maybe we can use it to our advantage when it gets down to it. We’ll ... The thrum of Deadworld blew in on a cold wind and washed over them. Blessed Mother.
“Shit!” Jackie grabbed at the bars. “Carson! I want that fucking phone call.”
He walked into view with a Styrofoam cup in hand. “Sorry. You didn’t say please. Politeness goes a long ways in these parts, Ms. Rutledge.”
The locked front door clicked and swung open, jingling the bell overhead. Carson jumped, spilling hot coffee over his hand. The sweet, diminutive form of Charlotte stepped across the threshold. She now wore jeans and a leather motorcycle jacket, a loose curl of hair dangling across one cheek.
“Charlie,” Carson said. “I wasn’t expecting you so soon.”
Fuck! Laur? Jackie backed away from the door to the other side of the cell. She was a rat in a trap and here came the grinning Cheshire.
Stick with the game plan, hon. Jessica is happy and healthy, so we’re all good.
Yeah, except she’s a fucking vampire now.
Charlotte walked with feline grace to where Carson stood and eyed the cup in his hand and the coffee dripping on the floor. “You’ve made a mess. Clean that up and get Ms. Rutledge a cup. I imagine she’s thirsty.”
Jackie took a deep breath and thrust her trembling hands into her pockets. Sonofabitch. If she comes after me, Laur ... if she tries ... fuck!
Yes, hon, I know. We’ll have to.
That thing is over there, waiting for me.
But I don’t believe it wants to kill you.
We don’t know that!
There may be no choice. Let’s focus on Charlotte.
She walked over to the cell, boots clacking on the hardwood floor, and stopped in front of the door. A corner of her petulant mouth curled up. “Ms. Rutledge. You can’t seem to leave well enough alone.”
Jackie avoided looking directly into her eyes. “You made it difficult for us to resolve our issues, Charlotte. All we wanted was to ensure that Jessica Davies was safe and free within the Thatcher household.”
The smile faded. “How did you find my sister? And why does the FBI care what a fifteen-year-old runaway is doing in Thatcher’s Mill?” Carson walked up and handed her the steaming cup. “Now, shoo. Go make yourself useful and settle everyone down. Everything is going to be fine now.”
That’s good, Laurel said. She still believes this can all blow over and everything goes back to normal.
Charlotte snapped her fingers at Carson, waving her fingers at him, until he handed over a key ring with a single key on it.
Jackie stared at the piece of cut steel dangling from the ring. I’m not sure our idea of normal gels with hers, Laur.
“I don’t know where you received your information,” Jackie replied, “but I’m not with the FBI. My team was here to investigate an unusual paranormal occurrence.”
“I see,” she said and passed the cup between the bars. “What were you investigating?”
Take the cup, hon.
Jackie sighed and walked forward, trying not to look overly hesitant. She reached out and took the cup, concentrating on keeping her hand steady. “We came to investigate the fact that Thatcher’s Mill is full of ghosts.”
The smile returned. “That it is, but what I want to know is who it is you came here with?”
Yeah, I figured you would. “They’re my research partners. Our job is to seek out supernatural occurrences and determine the appropriate actions to be taken.”
Charlotte’s head cocked to the side, and she rolled her eyes. “Really, Jackie. Is this the game you want to play?”
Hon, tread lightly. Just tell her. She knows who Nick is.
“Fine. No games,” Jackie said. “You want to know about Nick Anderson. Is he who you think he is? Yeah, he is. He’s the same guy who tried to help you when Drake came through your town all those years ago.”
“Drake?” she asked. “I don’t know that—”
“The vampire,” Jackie said. “The guy who came into town and slaughtered your family. The same guy Nick was trying to catch.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Then you know what I am.”
It was not a question, just a simple statement of fact, and Jackie did not care for the way she was ta
king that information in. “I know that you both require blood to stay alive. I know that Nick still would like to help you to deal with this situation. He has something you can drink in place of blood that will keep you from dying.”
“Is that so?” Charlotte draped her arms through the bars, resting them on the metal crossbar. “And what about Drake, if that was his name? Does Nick Anderson still chase him?”
“No,” Jackie replied. “He’s dead now. Nick killed him.”
“Dead?” She leaned back, gripping the bars. “He’s dead? How?”
Jackie could not keep from snorting with laughter at that. “That’s a long, complicated story. Maybe Nick will even tell you.”
“So he can then kill me, too? I don’t think so.”
She took a deep breath. The conversation was going in the wrong direction, and Jackie was sure Charlotte had not come just for idle chitchat. The question was, had she come merely to spook her or did she have more on the agenda? “We didn’t come here for you, Charlotte.”
Charlotte released the bars and began to walk back and forth in front of the cell. “And yet, you’ve been to my house more than once, with a man who was here before and knows what happened.”
Laur, I don’t like the way this is going.
You need to convince her that coming here had nothing to do with her and that we’ll gladly be on our way.
Trying! I don’t think she believes me. “Look, Charlotte. Nick didn’t realize you were here until we arrived. When we found out the Thatchers weren’t supposed to have any daughters, we checked it out and discovered Jessica. But if she’s here of her own free will, there’s not a damn thing we can do about that.”
“So,” Charlotte said and stopped at the cell door. Her eyes brightened, and Jackie stared at a point on the wall over her head. “Knowing what I am, and what is going on here, you’re just going to walk away? Make little notes in your research book and move on to the next?”
This would be the point at which Jackie would take a step forward, look her hard in the eye, and lie through her teeth to get the job done. Hard to do if you really wanted to take a step back and run for your life.
Do it, hon. I’ll help you keep the charm at bay.
Will that work?
We’re in a locked cell. We have no other options.
Jackie brought her eyes down to Charlotte’s and did her best to step forward with confidence. “Yes, Charlotte. We’ll just leave. We aren’t the law. We’ve got no responsibility here.”
Charlotte’s eyes burned into her head, looking straight through her, searing away any vestiges of defense. After a moment, Charlotte raised an eyebrow. “Who do you have in there with you? How do you do that?”
The push from Charlotte faded from her head. Shit! Laur?
The truth. I think she knows if you’re lying.
“It’s my friend,” Jackie said. “She was killed by Drake also. As to how I do it? I’m not sure exactly. It just kind of happened.”
Charlotte’s eyes flared for a second and then the cell door clicked open. “How intriguing. Perhaps you can show me?”
Jackie took two steps back, hitting the bench along the rear wall. “I told you, Charlotte. I don’t know how. I just can.”
“So you say.” She walked into the middle of the room and stopped. “Why do I feel like you aren’t telling me everything? Why do I sense that you are not going to just walk away from this?”
She swallowed the lump in her throat. The cell door remained open, but Jackie knew she had no chance to get around Charlotte. The slender girl would kick her ass all over the room. “Trust me. I have no desire to remain in this place.”
“But you will,” she said, a soft smile on her lips. “There’s a vampire in town and you researchers know how to kill them.”
Jackie backed up onto the bench, towering over Charlotte. Perhaps if she leaped on her, she could knock her down and make her way out. But then? Where would she run? “We have no intention of trying to kill you, Charlotte. We didn’t come here for you.”
Charlotte reached into her jacket and pulled out a small ivory handle. A short blade snapped out, making Jackie jump. “You’re lying,” Charlotte said, holding the blade out before her, turning it over as though examining it for the first time. She sighed. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. The truth lives and dies at the Mill, Jackie. You can’t leave.”
We have to cross over, hon. We have to do it now.
But that thing! We can’t.
She’s going to kill you. We have a chance on the other side.
“Charlotte, I swear to you,” Jackie pleaded. “We have no quarrel with you or your town. We came for the ghosts. That’s it.”
“And you shall join them,” Charlotte said. “You should have left me alone when you had the chance.”
She lunged at Jackie, who closed her eyes and pushed at that opening to Deadworld. With Laurel’s aid, the door yawned wide, buffeting them in the cold, bone-numbing wind of the dead. The knife pricked at her skin, just above her navel, and then vanished as they stepped into the cold, gray world of the dead.
Charlotte’s scream of surprise followed Jackie through and then faded abruptly. The cell door remained open in the now empty police station. Fog shifted around in swirling eddies over the floor. Jackie hopped down from the bench and checked her stomach with her fingers. There was a small tear in the fabric and her fingers came away with a dark smear of blood.
“Damn it,” she said and lifted the shirt. “I think she got me.”
Laurel stood next to her now and knelt to look. “It’s just a small puncture. It’ll be OK. We should get out of here before that Spindly Man shows up.”
“Yeah,” she replied. “Back to Nick’s maybe—”
“Jackie Rutledge.” The familiar, harsh and hollow, two-pack-a-day voice spoke from the depths of an empty cavern. “I would speak with you.”
She stepped up to the cell door as the thing came into view, gliding over the floor, its long, thin arms shifting in a disjointed motion that gave it an awkward gait. The glowing green orbs, run through with pale yellow veins, stared at her, or so it seemed, as there were no pupils to give its gaze a sense of direction. Surrounding those bug eyes was an upswept coating of spines, giving its head the look of a steel-bristled brush.
Jackie flung the door closed, only to have it clang against the stop and bounce back open. The terror gripping her pounding heart told her to get out now, but common sense said to wait. It would only keep following her, waiting on the other side wherever she went. As frightening as the thing appeared, it had never actually attacked her or even tried to. It had only followed. Why? What the hell did it want? Bail or face it down?
“Hon, to Nick’s! Now!” Laurel said. She stepped forward, between Jackie and the Spindly Man.
“Wait, Laur,” she replied and held up her trembling hand. “Not yet.”
“Jackie!” Laurel stared at her in disbelief. “No.”
The Spindly Man stopped at the cell door and reached over to his right arm, plucking out one of the spines. It gripped the spine much like a knife, and its attention turned to Laurel.
She shrank away from the dark, four-inch needle, and Jackie slid over in front of her. The Spindly Man stopped and stepped to go around, but Jackie moved to block it again. “You got a fucking question, you ask me. Leave her alone.”
It was a dangerous gambit, but Jackie figured that if it only wanted to see her, then everyone else was just in the way and of no real consequence. It could have killed her back in the beginning if that had been its agenda. Given the speed with which it had been following her around, that initial encounter could only have been something more cursory, like curiosity.
The thing paused turning its head toward her and then back to Laurel. Abruptly, the needle fell to the ground, clinking on the hardwood floor as though it was made of metal. Jackie looked down at the thin spine. Metal? Really? The thing grew metallic spines? The pit in her stomach grew a bit deeper.
“Laur, if it makes any kind of move, we go to Nick’s,” she said.
“Jackie?” Laurel clearly did not like this risk.
“I want to know what the hell this thing wants,” Jackie said, trying to draw upon the anger she had over the additional fear this thing had brought into her life. “So, Spindly Man? What do you want? Who are you? What are you?”
It looked at her in silence with its unblinking, veiny green eyes. Its lanky, spine-covered body continually shifted and adjusted, as though it were uncomfortable in its own skin.
“I am Nixtchapooliomintchoktaleee of ...”
Jackie tuned out the gibberish. She could not pronounce any of it, much less understand what any of it meant. “How about we shorten that all to Nix? I can’t say any of that.”
Its toothless mouth twisted around for a moment. “Acceptable.”
“Why are you following me, Nix?”
“You are key,” it said.
“Key to what? You don’t even know who I am. What could I have possibly done to make me key to anything?”
Nix slowly raised a hand, pointing a multijointed finger at her. “Key to door. You come open.”
“I’m not going to do any—”
A cold rush of air enveloped Jackie as the door to the other side pushed open and Charlotte stepped between worlds, switchblade still in hand. Her mouth was drawn down into a thin, venomous line.
“How can you—?” Charlotte stopped when she caught sight of Nix and staggered away toward the corner of the room. “You’re with that ... that thing?”
Jackie jumped toward the door, stepping out of the path between them. She knew about Nix? “We just met about a minute ago.”
“I should’ve known,” she said with a sneer, waving the blade in a wide arc in front of her. “I finally got her and you want to ruin everything!” Nix reached down to its body with each hand and plucked out a pair of spines, and Charlotte turned her focus to it. The doorway behind her began to stretch open once again. “You stay away from me, you freak!”
A soft hum, eerie in its pleasant tone, issued forth from Nix’s mouth. It said something unintelligible and leaped at Charlotte, who screamed and stumbled back through her doorway, leaving Nix to crash into the corner of the cell. The thing had moved with blinding speed, almost too fast to follow.
