Return of the Hunters (The DeathSpeaker Codex Book 4)

by Sonya Bateman

  I blinked. “When did you develop psychic powers?”

  “I’m good with area codes. Damned desk job,” Abe almost growled. “Now tell me what’s going on, and why you’re in Chicago without your own phone.”

  The concern in his voice almost made me smile. I could always count on Abe to worry enough for both of us. “It’s a long story, and I only have three minutes,” I said. “Listen…”

  It was on the tip of my tongue to ask him. Get me home. Call the Chicago PD, wire money for a bus ticket, rent a car for me. This could all be over right now. Taeral said that the Duchenes handled their own, and I really wanted to let them. Promise or not. Besides, it sounded like if they went up against Legba, they wouldn’t survive. And that would end my obligation.

  I immediately hated myself for thinking that. Despite the way they’d gotten me here, I couldn’t just leave them to die.

  “Spit it out, kid,” Abe said.

  I shook my head and sighed. “Everything’s fine,” I said. If I told Abe what was really going on, he’d probably send the National Guard after me. “Just wanted to tell you that I’d be out of town for a few days. Kind of a spur-of-the-moment trip.”

  Abe’s pause was accusatory. “Uh-huh. You just took off randomly for Chicago without your phone,” he said. “And what is it this time? Vampires, maybe ghosts or something? We’ve already been through werewolves and Fae.”

  “None of the above.” At least that was true. Far as I could tell, Papa Legba wasn’t any of those things. “Tell you what, I’ll explain everything when I get back. Okay?”

  “You’d better,” he said reluctantly. “So when should I start officially worrying?”

  Last night. “Just…try not to,” I said. “I will be back.”

  “Well, you’ve come back every time so far. Guess I’ll have to take your word for it.”

  “I’m sorry, Abe. But thanks for worrying.” I smirked at nothing in particular. “It’s good to know somebody’d miss me if I wasn’t around.”

  “Damned straight, so don’t go dying on me.”

  “Right back atcha, Captain.”

  “Please deposit one dollar and twenty-five cents for the next. One. Minute.”

  “Shit,” I murmured. Exactly one quarter more than I had. “Gotta go. See you soon, Abe.”

  “I’ll hold you to that. Later, kid.”

  “Please deposit—”

  “Goddamn it!” I slammed the phone down in the cradle and heaved a breath. Well, at least Abe wouldn’t panic for a few days. One of the Duchenes had to have a cell phone, so if we were gone much longer, I’d just check in with him again. And hope I was back home before Taeral and Sadie knew I was gone.

  I’d just started to move away from the pay phone when something small and hard poked into my side, and a low voice said, “Wallet. Now.”

  CHAPTER 11

  I’d forgotten all about the guy in denim. So much for two people needing the same pay phone—I knew there had to be something wrong with that coincidence.

  At least he was polite. He’d waited to rob me until I finished my phone call.

  I raised my hands slowly, still staring at the phone. No need to cause a scene if I could help it. “Look, man, I don’t have a wallet,” I said. “What I’ve got is like twelve bucks and change. It’s all yours, okay?”

  The gun dug in harder. “Bullshit. Hand it over.”

  I glanced at him, ready to just knock him out with a sleep spell and walk away from this. And instead of a nervous man with frayed clothes and a cheap handgun, I saw Hodge Valentine. With a high-powered rifle.

  The part of my brain that knew this was another hallucination was no match for the powerful instinct that surged through me. “Get the fuck away from me,” I shouted, moving back a fast step. “Céa biahn!”

  I gestured with the words, and he flew back through the air like he’d been smacked with a giant tennis racquet. The hallucination vanished when the would-be thief slammed into the divider wall between the bathrooms and slid down it, leaving a bloody smear behind.

  He wasn’t moving any more.

  “Oh, shit,” I choked out, rushing down the hallway toward him. I’d only ever done that to Fae, and they were a hell of a lot harder to kill than humans. He’d landed on his ass, legs splayed, body slumped sideways with his head at a very bad angle. Blood oozed sluggishly from his open mouth. I knelt and held a hand in front of his face, not daring to take his pulse because of the likely event that his neck was broken. It was far too long before I felt a faint puff of air against my palm.

  He was dying. Fast.

  I closed my eyes and pushed all of my energy into healing him. It was my weakest skill—I was still new at this stuff, and for the Fae, healing was more art than science. No magic words, no particular gestures, just the will to make someone whole again. And it took a lot of power. I could feel my spark guttering, my magic practically running on fumes.

  Finally, the thief groaned and stirred. I snatched the gun from his hand dropped it into a nearby trash can before he gained full consciousness, just in case he felt like trying to shoot me again. “You all right?” I said.

  He lifted his head slowly. A few blinks, and his eyes got really wide. He drew in a big breath and screamed, “Help! I’m being assaulted! Somebody call nine-one-one—”

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I muttered, and flicked a gesture at him. “Beith na cohdal.”

  He rolled his eyes and slumped over, snoring gently.

  That last spell seriously drained me. It was actually painful to cast, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to do anything magical that was more complicated than turning on a light until my spark recharged. I’d get a little back over the course of the day, but I wouldn’t return to full power without exposure to the moon.

  Damn. Not having that pendant was a lot more of a handicap than I thought. I figured I ran out of juice faster because I was only half Fae—the moonstone had let me conserve power by constantly amplifying what I had, and I’d always worn it. I had no idea what my true limits were before now.

  At this moment, David Copperfield was probably more magic than me.

  I left the thief snoozing on the blood-stained floor and made my way back toward the main waiting area, figuring he could have fun explaining that some guy he’d tried to mug had thrown him halfway down the hall without touching him. Hell, maybe I’d done him a favor. He might give up robbing people in favor of a less dangerous occupation, like NASCAR driving or bull fighting.

  Meanwhile, I had more important things to worry about. Like how I was going to keep from impulsively murdering people until these damned hallucinations stopped.

  There was still forty-five minutes of layover left, and none of the Duchenes had returned to the waiting area yet. I found an empty row of seats and sprawled on the middle one, hoping to discourage people from sitting near me in case they turned into Valentines.

  I hadn’t been there long when a pair of them came into the room and headed for me. It was the middle two, dusted in melting snow and carrying a bunch of white plastic bags that read Carson’s. They stopped in front of me, and the girl offered a shy smile. “Hey, Gideon,” she said. “We ain’t been introduced, but…ah…”

  “She’s Isalie, and I’m Bastien.” He held a hand out, then did a double-take when he remembered it was full of shopping bags. “Er. Hold up—”

  “It’s fine. Nice to meet you,” I said. “Where’s everyone else?”

  “All them went down the pharmacy.” Isalie glanced at her brother, then put a handful of bags on the seat next to me. “We thought…well, these for you.”

  I frowned and gave the bags a quick scan. One of them held a big cardboard box, and the rest looked like clothes. “What’s all this for?” I said.

  “Mais, what all happened last night…” Bastien coughed and looked at the floor. “You said you didn’t have any other clothes. We gon’ be a few days out, you know. Gettin’ pretty bad out there. And it ain’t exactly warm down city
, neither. We guessed at the sizes, so them boots might be a little big. Got’ya spare socks, though.”

  “Boots?” I slid the plastic down the side of the box and saw a picture of brown work boots. The other bags held t-shirts, jeans, socks, boxers, a pair of gloves, and a fleece-lined canvas jacket.

  I was absurdly touched.

  “Thank you,” I managed. “You didn’t have to do this.”

  Isalie flashed an unhappy look. “We had to do something,” she said. “All this mess we dragged you into. Usually when shit goes down, Zoba—” She broke off with a hard swallow, and her amber eyes shimmered. “Can you really save him?” she half-whispered.

  I tried for a smile. “I’m going to do everything I can,” I said.

  “Thank you.” She shuddered. “I don’t know what we’d do without him.”

  Now probably wasn’t the best time to tell them about my little magic problem. At least I already knew the DeathSpeaker stuff wasn’t tied to my spark, so I’d still be able to pull that off no matter how drained I was. If we made it that far.

  But if anything unexpected happened, we were probably fucked.

  CHAPTER 12

  For some reason, everyone had gravitated into our room when the train attendants brought dinner that night. Like it wasn’t cramped enough already.

  The storm had turned a two-hour layover into four hours, and we’d lost another hour when the train stopped in the middle of Nowhere, Illinois, to wait out a bad stretch of weather. By dinner time, which was also running late, Denei was practically spitting fire.

  “We ain’t got time for this! He’s gettin’ worse.” She paced the suite between Zoba’s bunk and the chair Reun had taken over, since I was at the table with Rex and Senobia. Isalie and Bastien sat on the edge of the raised platform that held the table and benches.

  Zoba was too weak to get out of bed.

  “Hold on. Tomorrow’s the second day, right?” I pushed my half-eaten plate of train-café macaroni and cheese to the side. My appetite had fled since I’d seen Orville Valentine standing five feet away from me, and knowing it wasn’t real hadn’t helped any. “We should’ve gotten there early in the morning, like five or six, and we’re only three hours behind,” I said. “It’ll still be morning. When are you supposed to meet this guy?”

  Denei shook her head. “The summons came at two yesterday afternoon, so we ain’t gonna have past two tomorrow. Maybe sooner,” she said. “He’ll tell us when, exactly. But this bullshit’s cutting it too damned close.”

  “How’s he going to tell you?”

  Across from me, Rex frowned. “You don’ wanna know,” he said—and then broke into a crooked smile, pointing his fork at my plate. “You eatin’ that?”

  “Cochon.” Senobia rolled her eyes and nudged him with an elbow. “He eats whatever ain’t nailed down or runnin’ away,” she said to me. “Don’t feel obliged to feed the bottomless pit, cher.”

  I smirked. “No, it’s fine,” I said. “Help yourself.”

  “Thank you.” Rex made a face at her as he pulled the plate over.

  She stuck her tongue out. “You still a pig.”

  “Mais alohrs, cher,” he said, grinning. “A pig with seconds.”

  Bastien tipped them a narrow look. “Both y’all couillon,” he said. “Hush now, you. We got other problems.”

  “Hey.” Senobia folded her arms and glared. “Don’t you pull that ‘the grownups is talking’ crap with us, Bastien Duchene. You ain’t got even two years on me, and—”

  “Yeah, well I got more’n that,” Isalie said. “Bastien’s right. Y’all need to settle.”

  Zoba made a sound. It was barely audible, but it stopped the chatter instantly.

  “All right, listen up,” Denei said. “We gotta think of some other way to get there. This weather keeps up, we’ll need a new plan. We cain’t be late.”

  “Why not?” I said.

  She glared at me. “Maybe you failed to catch my meaning the first time round,” she said deliberately. “I’ll say it real slow this time. We got two days. If we ain’t there, he’ll kill us all. As in dead. Understand?”

  “Yeah, I get that. But aren’t we going there to free your family?” I slid to the end of the bench. “I mean, that’s why you brought me, right? And I don’t think there’s any way we can get there faster, unless you guys can fly or something. So if we’re not on time, we’ll meet him wherever, and I’ll DeathSpeaker him before he kills you.”

  “You don’t get it,” she said in flat tones. “He don’t need to be anywhere near us to kill us. Hell, if he felt like it, he could do it right now.”

  “Jesus Christ. Are you serious?”

  “Of course she is, child.”

  There was a collective gasp at the voice from the bottom bunk—a hollow, rolling tone that echoed in the confines of the suite. Zoba slid off the bed, shivering like a wet dog as he straightened with the stiff jerks of a badly controlled puppet. He pivoted slowly to face the table.

  His eyes were blank, pure white. And his mouth was filled with white flames.

  “I have missed part of this conversation, no? An important part, I wager.” The white eyes stared directly at me. “Now, you want to tell Papa Legba all your secrets, do you not?”

  I swallowed hard. “Not especially.”

  “Oh, but you do,” he said. “DeathSpeaker.”

  CHAPTER 13

  Okay. That could not be a good sign.

  “What is this you bring to me, children?” Zoba-Legba took a shuddering step toward the table, and the Duchenes shrank back collectively. “You are not planning to rise against me,” he said. “That would be…very unwise. But you know that, do you not?”

  I couldn’t look away—but at the corner of my vision, I saw Denei moving slowly in front of Reun, like she was trying to block him from view. Reun seemed to take the hint and tried to make himself as small as possible.

  It was a little too late for me to hide. Even though I kind of felt like ducking under the table and cowering until he went away.

  “Tell Papa everything, child.” That voice was absolute. I actually wanted to tell him—just open my mouth and spill out my whole life story, all twenty-six years of it at once. “Come, now,” he said. “My children are hiding something from me, and I will know what.”

  I had to start talking, or my tongue was going to run ahead of my brain and do something stupid. “I’m just along for the ride,” I managed. “Never been to New Orleans.”

  “Are you, now.” Zoba’s body trembled even harder, his tattooed face a mask of pain despite the calm command of the words leaving his mouth. “Oh, my children. How you have disappointed me,” he said. “But we will deal with that when you arrive, no? Perhaps if you make a gift of this…DeathSpeaker, your suffering will be brief.”

  “Hey. I’m not gonna be your gift, goddamn it.”

  The instant I said it, I figured that was probably a bad idea. But he looked at me and forced Zoba’s face into a cruel semblance of a smile, baring his pointed teeth. “You are certain of that, are you, child?” he said. “Serving me does have its advantages. You would obtain power far greater than you can imagine—and all I ask in return is your soul. When you are finished with it, of course.”

  I shuddered. “Hell, no.”

  “Such disrespect, child. Tread carefully when you come to me.” The white eyes flashed, and he turned stiffly toward Denei. “As for you. Tomorrow at noon, in my club, and not a moment later. Do you understand this?”

  “Yes, Papa,” she whispered.

  “And do not think I have failed to mark your presence, Fae.” He shook his head and faced the table again. “You will come to me. Perhaps you will change your mind and serve me, no? I have no child such as you, and you would be richly rewarded. Consider my offer.”

  The glow left Zoba’s eyes and mouth. He shivered once, and then collapsed.

  Before anyone could react, the entire car lurched and swayed violently. The lights flickered and went ou
t.

  And the train ground to a halt.

  “What the hell?” I blurted. “Did he do that?”

  “Nah, wasn’t Legba,” Denei said in shaken tones from somewhere in the gloom. “Somebody make a light.”

  “De’àrsahd.”

  The rasping word came from Reun. When he spoke it, the main cabin light came on weakly. Denei stumbled over and dropped next to Zoba, turning him carefully onto his side.

  His eyes were rolled back to white. For one nasty second, I thought he was still Legba.

  “Zoba,” she said urgently. “Come on, sugar. Come on back to me.” Her voice caught, and a tear slipped down her face. “I know you in there. I hear you.”

  One corner of his mouth twitched. He let out a rush of air, then closed his eyes.

  Denei flinched. “No, it ain’t your fault,” she said. “You jes’ hang on. We’re gonna get there, hear?” She looked at the others. “Bastien, Isalie. You two go on up and find out what the hell’s gone wrong with this worthless hunk of train now. Get the truth. Any means necessary. I need to know how long this gonna take.”

  The two of them nodded, stood and slipped silently from the cabin.

  “Rex, you and Nobi help me get him back in bed.” Denei glanced back at Reun, and then caught my eye. “You know we’d never turn you over to him,” she said. “Right?”

  “Yeah. I know.”

  “Good.” She watched the young ones approach with shaken determination. “Now, we need a way to get there faster. I got a bad feelin’ this train ain’t going nowhere for a while.”

  Reun stood slowly from the chair. “I might have a way,” he said. “It is not without risk, but it may be our only choice.”

  I wasn’t sure I liked the sound of that. “What way?”

  He leveled a hard look at me. “We go through Arcadia.”

  CHAPTER 14

  I was right. I didn’t like the sound of that.