Ghosts of Winter: A Dark Shapeshifter Urban Fantasy (Echoes of the Past Book 2)

by H B Lyne

  Stalker gave him a gentle shove.

  'You're a shape shifter. You need to start believing, James.'

  Weaver patted his shoulder and nodded in agreement, and James looked between their smiling faces. With a sigh, he took his phone from his pocket and dialled the number that was displayed on the sign. He walked away from the others to talk and Stalker looked again at the building.

  'No wonder we never noticed it before,' Weaver said. 'It's just so normal.'

  'Where are we?' Eyes asked, under his breath.

  'Right on the southern edge of St. Mark's,' Stalker replied, recognising some of the surrounding shops. 'I pass this way sometimes. China Town is about a block that way.' She pointed up the street. They weren't far from her flat, if she had just led the pack a few hundred yards to the west when they emerged from the maze in Hepethia, she would have led them right to her bolt-hole.

  James returned to them after a minute, a huge smile on his face.

  'It's within my budget. The agent is going to meet me here in half an hour to show me around.'

  'That's great news,' Stalker said and she gave him a quick hug.

  'I think we all have our own things to do,' Eyes said. 'But let's reconvene at Grove Street tonight.'

  Everyone agreed and went their separate ways. James was going to wait for the agent and check out the neighbourhood, Eyes returned to his family for some quality time, Wind Talker and Weaver went back to Grove Street to continue researching the Plague Doctor and Stalker headed across St. Mark's to work.

  She had three classes to teach that afternoon and the vial of cool water around her neck seemed to help her to balance her strength and keep her cool immensely. She actually felt good to be working, for the first time since she had changed she felt calm and in control. As she left the studio at the end of the day she lifted the vial to her lips to kiss it, thankful for its protection.

  She returned to her flat to freshen up and collect clean clothes, and while she was there she wrote a short note to Ragged Edge, thanking him for the vial and his kind letter. She paused before signing it, trying to decide whether she should say anything about the King-of-Glass-and-Steel. She decided against it and quickly signed and folded the letter.

  Stalker pricked her finger with a sharp knife from her kitchen and let a few drops fall on the letter. She didn't really know what she was doing, she was just following her instincts. She went to the window and opened it. A blast of cold air rushed in and she had to brace herself slightly against it. Stalker rubbed her bleeding finger along the window sill and watched the dark sky.

  A black shape appeared and drew closer. She had a moment of concern about what she had done, unsure of what she had managed to summon, but as the shape came closer she was relieved to see that it was indeed a raven.

  The bird cawed as it approached and came to land outside her window.

  'Hi there,' she said kindly, unsure of how well it could communicate. 'Can you take this letter to the shifter known as Ragged Edge, please?'

  The raven cawed again and grabbed the letter in its claws.

  'Ragged Edge of The Watch,' it squawked, catching Stalker off guard.

  'That's right,' she replied. With a quick shake of its feathers, the raven hopped off the windowsill and flew away with the letter. Stalker watched it circle overhead and then set off south-west towards Old Town. She just had to trust that the letter would reach him. Stalker rubbed the blood off the sill and shut the window. With one last check around her flat, she set off for Grove Street.

  It was a busy Saturday evening and the ten minute walk took her along some streets alive with human revelry. She kept her head down and walked as fast as she could. Grove Street itself was a quiet residential street and Stalker reached number 32 without incident.

  There was loud banter coming from the kitchen and she headed straight for it. Everyone was there already, and Eyes was pouring wine into plastic cups.

  'Hello!' several voices called out in greeting and Stalker took the cup that was thrust towards her.

  'You took the office?' she asked James, who was sitting on the worktop with a drink in his hand.

  'Yep, we're just about to toast it, we were waiting for you.'

  'To James and his new premises,' Eyes said, raising his cup. 'At 14 Specula Row.'

  Stalker frowned, the name of the road seemed important and sounded unusual.

  'It's Latin,' Weaver said, grinning. 'City wall, or watchtower.'

  'No way!' Stalker nearly spilled her wine. 'That's the name of the road?'

  'It must have been where the city wall was when the Romans held Caerton,' Wind Talker said. 'A lot of the roads around there have Latin names. I think you were right, Stalker, it was a message from Artemis.'

  'I may be starting to believe,' James said, with a smile just for her. She returned it and tilted her cup to him. They all drank and an easy silence fell on them for a moment.

  'Where are we on the Plague Doctor?' Stalker asked. Weaver's smile slipped from her face.

  'There's nothing,' she said softly. 'We can't find any references to him in any of Flames's notes. We're going to have to call on outside help I think.'

  'We need to know where he might be hiding, who he's working with, what he wants. He's tethered himself here for a reason, he's not just here in passing, he has a purpose.' Wind Talker spoke with surprising passion. Stalker gave him an appraising nod.

  'I'll take a patrol around the territory on my way out tonight,' Eyes said. 'I'll have a look out for any possible hideouts for a demon of disease. I can think of a few restaurants that ought to be shut down, one of them might suffice.' He snorted with laughter and Stalker felt her cheeks tug upwards despite the worry that gnawed at her, like a rat.

  They drank some more and tried to enjoy the respite, Stalker put aside any concerns that she had about whether they could afford it or not. Eyes left a little after midnight and the rest of them settled down to sleep.

  The room was rich red and black, with shadows that reached deep into the core of the many realms, seeping through and dividing them at the same time. There were four chairs on a dais and withered old figures sat in them, three of the people had long white beards and they all sat hunched over, seeming to blend with the chairs and the floor and the room around them. They each had a blue spotlight on them, as if on a stage. They were a part of the place, not merely inhabitants of it. Were they kings? They were old and infirm, they had shawls about their shoulders. All around them were small tables and more little hunched figures. Moving in between them were the spectres of nurses. Standing hidden in the shadows, almost invisible, was the Plague Doctor.

  Stalker woke with a start and looked around the dark room. Weaver was sitting bolt upright, panting hard. Wind Talker and James were stirring too, James rubbed his face and looked around in confusion. Stalker shifted from fox to human and crawled over to Weaver.

  'Are you all right?' she whispered.

  'Yes,' Weaver replied. She wiped the sweat off her hands on her legs and drew her knees to her chest.

  'I think I just shared your vision,' Stalker said, glancing at the others. 'How is that possible?'

  'I don't know,' Wind Talker said. 'But with your unusual traits who knows what else you're capable of.'

  'You didn't see it? The vision?' Stalker asked.

  'No,' Wind Talker replied. James shook his head. 'The screaming woke me.'

  'Screaming?' Stalker looked at him in alarm.

  'I think that was me,' Weaver whimpered.

  Stalker put an arm around Weaver's shoulders.

  'It's all right, we're right here with you. I can't say it was just a dream, because we all know that's not true. But I can say that we will tackle it.'

  'What did you see?' James asked quietly, coming closer.

  'It was like a throne room, but then it was like an old people's home.' Weaver's voice was trembling.

  Wind Talker stood up suddenly and left the room. Stalker heard his heavy footsteps on the s
tairs. A moment later he came thudding back down and came back into the living room with a map pinned to a cork board. He turned the light on and propped the board up on the sofa. The four of them crowded around it and Stalker looked at all of the strange markings on it.

  'Flames-First-Guardian was keeping this record of trouble spots,' Wind Talker explained. 'I've been trying to keep it up-to-date and have spent some time examining it. There is a known problem here.' He pointed to one of the crosses with tiny runes next to it. It was about half a mile north of Stalker's dojo, and just about visible underneath Flames-First-Guardian's markings were the printed words on the map, St. Mark's Retirement Home.

  'The runes say that it's a Rat King nest,' James said, squinting slightly. Stalker was surprised that he could read them and looked at him quizzically. He noticed and shrugged. 'The Watch didn't totally neglect me while I was with them, and I pick up things like this quickly. I have a photographic memory.'

  'That is really useful to know,' Wind Talker said with a wink. 'Can you memorise this map, please?'

  'You know, it doesn't really work like that.' James laughed and leaned closer to examine the map carefully for a few minutes. 'There are no guarantees, but I think that should be good enough for now.'

  'We'll need to go and investigate the site,' Wind Talker said. 'But right now we should probably all try and get some more sleep, it's only 3am.'

  They all agreed and settled back down to sleep. Weaver and Wind Talker resumed their animal forms, James went back to the sofa and Stalker watched him in bemusement as she lay down next to Weaver and stroked her cat head. Weaver purred and began to relax. Stalker wanted to help her sister to sleep, she wasn't worried about herself. She listened to everyone breathing and sensed the moment that she was the last one awake. The room was dark and the shadows were deep. Stalker couldn't rest, she could feel a familiar tugging sensation in her gut. She was being called out to hunt.

  She got up quietly and crept from the house. She shifted silently into her fox form and sniffed out Pursuit-of-Midnight-Solitude. It didn't take long. The illusive demon caught her eye just a few metres from the house, and dashed off into the early morning, teasing Stalker and urging her into the chase.

  She ran, more free and more at peace than she had been in days. She remembered her true nature, that of a solitary nocturnal predator with a thirst for this endless quest. The chase took her to the river and across into St. Catherine's, then north to the docks and into Storm Rider territory. She ran swift and silent, clinging to the shadows, her scent suppressed by the demon she hunted.

  She crossed the river again into the industrial region of Northgate, and her paws pounded relentlessly on the wet tarmac in between the noisy factories that never slept. Pursuit-of-Midnight-Solitude led her through the north of Caerton, towards Redfield Park. Two weeks ago this would have been her pack's territory, but now it belonged to the Wrecking Crew and Stalker skidded to a halt at the boundary. The stink of the neighbouring pack was all over the place and she had enough previous experience with them to know not to cross. Pursuit-of-Midnight-Solitude slipped away from her into Wrecking Crew turf, and Stalker paced back and forth in frustration. She knew she couldn't follow. Almost any other territory she wouldn't hesitate to sprint through, but not this one.

  Reluctantly, Stalker abandoned the chase and headed home. The sun was just touching the horizon as she entered the house, and the others were waking and getting breakfast.

  'Hi,' Weaver said as Stalker entered the kitchen. 'Where did you go?'

  'For a run, I couldn't sleep.'

  'I was thinking,' James said as he buttered some toast. 'We need to check out the old people's home. Why don't we go in as prospective clients. I can say I'm looking around for my dad.'

  'I like it,' Stalker replied with a smile. A flutter of anxiety niggled at her. She shouldn't feel so relieved at her pack mate coming up with a plan that didn't involve harming anyone. The recent actions of the Lightning Lords had caused her a great deal of moral strife, but if she was being absolutely honest with herself, the twinge of disappointment that she now felt was in part because she wanted to hit something. She was thirsty for a fight. When she felt like this there were two options, go out and find something to pick a fight with, or touch base with her humanity.

  'I'll call them later and arrange a viewing for tomorrow.' James swept out of the room to go and freshen up.

  Stalker took out her phone and was disappointed to have no messages. She quickly typed a message to Rhys.

  Hi. Missing you. Can we get together later?

  It was a while before he replied, though to be fair it was still early on a Sunday morning.

  Hi, sure. I've been missing you too. Come to mine? I'll be home all day so whenever.

  Stalker grinned to herself and quickly replied to confirm.

  'Stalker,' Wind Talker said gently from behind her. She turned to face him. 'Can you help me with some research, please?'

  'Of course,' she replied. She followed him upstairs into the bedroom. He had set up a computer and there were notes scattered across the floor. Stalker could hear the shower running in the bathroom next door.

  'I want to find out a bit about the history of the building before we go there. There must be a reason for its infestation. There are no coincidences in Hepethia.' Wind Talker started up the computer and rifled through his notes.

  'Is this what you do all day?'

  'Pretty much. I'm going to need an income though. You and Eyes can't support the whole pack.'

  'James has his own business too, don't forget that.' Stalker leafed through some of the notes. He had lists of names and places, diagrams, maps and a piece of paper with Is TH Spiral Hand? written at the top. 'Who's TH?' she asked.

  'Theodore Harris,' he replied.

  James appeared in the doorway with a towel around his waist, he saw them and immediately looked embarrassed.

  'Sorry,' Stalker said, hiding a smile. 'Small house.' She looked around quickly and spotted a pile of his clothes next to her own bag and passed them to him. He padded back to the bathroom and she exchanged a small laugh with Wind Talker.

  James returned a minute later, dressed but with wet hair, and he sat on the bed to put his socks on as Wind Talker started trying to make the computer do what he wanted.

  'What are you trying to do?' James asked.

  'Research the retirement home,' Wind Talker replied, his lips curling in frustration at the slow pace at which the computer was connecting to the internet.

  'Let me see what I can do,' James said. He took over and a few minutes later, having performed some sort of technological magic on the ancient system, everything seemed to be loading much more quickly. The three of them hunched over the computer as they searched the internet for useful information and James was in his element. 'I can probably hack into some useful systems, but would prefer to be using my own kit.'

  Eyes arrived mid-morning and came to see what they were doing. Weaver hovered in the doorway and Stalker felt the warmth of having the whole pack together. She couldn't help but feel more positive about everything.

  'Go back,' Wind Talker snapped, pointing at the screen. James went back to the previous page. 'There.' Wind Talker tapped on a link and James followed it.

  'Nice, we've found a history of the building going back hundreds of years here.' James said, grinning around at everyone.

  'There,' Stalker said, looking carefully through the text. 'It was a hospital from 1660 to 1666, owned by Doctor Cornelius Wentworth.'

  There was a link from his name and James clicked on it.

  'He died of bubonic plague in 1666.' James read the short entry quickly. 'One of the last to die in that outbreak. He was buried in a plague pit in St. Mark's, Caerton.'

  Stalker exchanged worried looks with the others. The pieces were clicking into place.

  'It must have been his body that got dug up and taken,' she said. A shiver ran down her spine.

  'So now a demon of plague has t
aken up residence in a former plague hospital and has used the corpse of the plague doctor to root himself in this realm.' Eyes paced the room, rubbing his temples.

  'I was hoping to spend time today fashioning a new talisman for myself,' Wind Talker said. 'It should help when we visit the retirement home tomorrow.'

  'Okay,' Eyes said with a firm nod. 'Go ahead. I want the territory patrolling this afternoon.' He looked pointedly at Stalker.

  'I'm sorry,' she said, a stab of guilt hitting her throat. 'I have plans. I did a lap of the north before dawn.'

  'Fine,' Eyes said, with no trace of resentment. 'Weaver and I will patrol. James, can you stay here and see what else you can find on the house, the actual doctor and the plague?'

  'Sure,' James replied. 'We're due at the residential home at 10am tomorrow. I also get the keys to my new office and need to move my things. I've contacted Warden-of-Stones and have permission to take a van into Old Town. Can anyone be spared to help me move?'

  'Yes, I'm sure we can all help. I don't need to be in court tomorrow, so I can be around too.' Eyes smiled. Stalker knew it must be hard for him, with so much to juggle. At least as Alpha he could delegate. In that moment she saw Fortune in him, in the way he was dishing out tasks and arranging patrols. She smiled at him. There was just the slightest physical resemblance too, in the way he paced and ran his hands through his thick hair. It was a little more than a passing resemblance and just for a moment her thoughts lingered on that similarity.

  'Are we all going to the home? Or would a smaller party be wise?' Weaver asked.

  'We'll all go,' Eyes said with no hesitation. 'We can masquerade as siblings.'

  There were nods and murmurs of agreement. Stalker was looking forward to spending more time together. Her phone buzzed in her pocket and she quickly pulled it out to read the new message.

  Hi. Any idea what time you'll be here? I'm just having lunch. Looking forward to seeing you, R xx

  Stalker glanced around the room, the others were talking and paying no attention to her. She held her phone close and replied.

  I'm leaving in a few minutes. See you soon xxx