A Lark In The Night

by Jen Pretty

  “Look, I talked to Shiva, and he said if I touch Bennet, I can track him anywhere. So, I need to get a hand on him.”

  Frankie looked at me for a second, and I watched as the pieces clicked into place. He snorted a laugh and nodded. “All right, well, hopefully, he does some magic. I can get you pretty close to him, but not right beside him. If I could do that, he would be dead already. Tracking him would be a bonus if we can’t kill him, but killing him should be priority one.”

  “Durga agrees with you,” I said.

  “Alright. I’ll start dinner, and we can get to work.”

  Frankie stood and walked out of the room. I lay back and wiped my hair off my forehead. I had a film of cold sweat from the dream. I reached up and felt my chest where he had punched me. There was no trace of pain. It had seemed so real. My need for sleep was dwindling. I assumed that Durga had something to do with that, but it was for the best if that bastard could make me think I was about to die in my sleep.

  I sat up and took a deep breath. What if him touching me in my dream was enough? I focused on that instant his fist contacted me and sent out my senses.

  My senses flowed through the city like flood waters, pinging on vampires all over. The bright shining north star that I knew was Vincent, lit up. He was at the mansion still. No trace of the warlock though. Too bad. That could have saved us time and probably saved lives.

  This was our city, Durga’s and mine. We wouldn’t leave a monster on the prowl. I came back to the room and threw off the blankets. I wouldn’t wait around for him to cause problems. The last two times he killed was in the dark part of the city, where no street lights lit the shadows. I walked across the room and took my phone off the table, sent a text to Clive, and asked him to meet me.

  Bennet had to be staying somewhere in that part of town. The more of us out looking, the higher the chances of finding him.

  I sent another text telling Clive not to engage the warlock if they found him. I didn’t need any of them to be lit on fire like Vincent was. He replied a moment later saying they were on their way.

  I sent a text to Vincent too. Checking to make sure he was ok. I waited for a reply, but didn’t get one.

  Singh appeared from the bathroom in human form. He was freshly showered and dressed in clean clothes. His spicy scent reached my nose as I passed him to have my shower.

  “Want to go hunting?” I asked him.

  He smiled and then shifted, letting out a roar that vibrated through my chest and my head. I laughed at his ferocious sound and continued to the bathroom. A night out doing something was definitely in order. The last twenty-four hours hadn’t yielded anything but a burnt vampire, a nightmare, and some boring TV.

  Walking back out to the kitchen after my shower, I found Singh in lion form pacing the living room and Frankie frying something delicious on the stove in the kitchen. I walked around the island and sidled up beside him. Steak with onions and mushrooms fried in a pan.

  Frankie gave me a crooked smile. “Your lion isn’t pleased that I’m taking so long to cook this. He says rare is fine.”

  I glanced back at the pacing lion. “I told him we would go hunting.”

  “Ah, that explains it. That’s a good idea, sitting around here is making me anxious too.”

  Frankie got out three plates and slid the meat and some salad onto each. Then set them down on the island counter in front of the stools.

  “Come on, lion man. Dinners ready,” he said.

  Singh huffed and shifted, then took his seat and started eating with a fork and knife like a civilized human.

  “So, I think that we should start at the dock and take each block in a grid. That will at least keep us busy, but I have a feeling he is staying in that area. My team is going to be out too, just checking empty buildings. I told them not to approach him.”

  “Good plan, now less talking and more eating,” Singh said around a mouthful of steak.

  I sighed and ate my dinner. It was delicious. The steak was perfectly tender. Frankie missed his calling as a chef.

  He laughed at my unspoken thought. I bumped his shoulder with mine and kept eating.

  When we finished, we walked out the door and headed for the dark part of town. It wasn’t that far, really, and the crisp night air filled me with anticipation. Durga perked up and started paying attention too. The night was full of energy that I couldn’t explain. Like an overfilled balloon on the edge of busting. As we got closer to the docks, the city grew still and dark. The fragile silence seemed about to shatter, and our boots on the pavement were the metronome of the jack in the box.

  The docks had the usual homeless people camped out, but the hush was noticeable even here.

  As we stepped down on to the small path that wound around the girders, there was a slick sound, followed by gurgles and then a moan. I swung around in time to see Bennet leaning over a homeless man, his eyes trained on me. A flash of steel and then another slick sound and I realized he had just slit the man’s throat with a knife.

  I bolted in his direction, calling my blade. Thankful when it’s comforting weight appeared in my hand as I made a last leap towards the dark warlock. Before I was within striking range, he vanished, leaving behind his knife and the dying man. Frankie made a desperate appearance beside where his father had stood, one moment too late. I slid down to the ground beside the homeless man and wrapped my hand around his divided neck, but it was no use. The gurgling noises and his violent thrashing slowed to a stop as he bled out before me. I took my bloodied hands away from his neck and wiped them on the scrubby weeds beneath my boots.

  Bennet could kill hundreds of people a night this way. If he didn’t use dark magic, I wouldn’t catch him.

  I screamed in frustration. There had to be another way.

  Bennet’s knife flashed in the moonlight and caught my eye. Maybe I didn’t have to touch him. Maybe, I could hold something he had touched.

  I picked up the bloody knife and held it firmly in my right hand. My fingers wrapped around the hilt, I closed my eyes.

  A soft breeze blew, and I smelled the familiar spicy scent of Singh. His warm body lay beside me, grounding me. He was Durga’s will and determination. I could feel the power of our connection suddenly, like an elastic band snapped tight. Durga was just beneath my surface, her eyes seeing through mine as we inspected the knife in our hands.

  “Goddess help me,” I whispered, bringing the blade edge to my left hand, Durga pressed the point into my palm, spilling my blood. A sacrifice to the ancient gods. Their power and wisdom rose up, filling my mind with words written in Sanskrit. I closed my eyes and saw Durga’s form again on the backs of my eyelids. Her hands, full of gifts given to her by the gods to help her in her mission.

  I saw her face change to a smile as if she were looking at me from across a vast dark space.

  “Go, child. Slay the demon,” she said as suddenly the knife jerked in my hand and pulled me out of my vision. My eyes flashed open, and I leapt to my feet. Singh was right there with me as my legs moved of their own will and I was running across the pavement and down the street.

  The night pushed me forward. I didn’t know where I was going only that I had to go. I ran through the city for longer than seemed possible.

  I heard footsteps behind me and Durga flashed me a picture of Frankie running along behind me. I caught sight of Singh’s white mane as his strides matched mine and we travelled together. I could feel Durga’s energy filling my legs with strength and my lungs with air. Finally, I stopped in front of a familiar building. The blade in my hand wavered, and I walked into Arnie’s bar.

  The music was on, but the lights were off and no one was inside. This time of night, it was usually a hub of jersey-clad sports fans and college kids, blowing off steam. Arnie was also missing from behind the bar. I couldn’t remember a time he wasn’t there. My gut clenched at the thought something may have happened to him.

  I swallowed my nervous energy and stepped further inside. Singh
slid in beside me, his thick mane tickled the back of my hand, and I stroked his fur, trying to comfort myself. The tension in the room was beyond painful. My limbs jerked and twitched with every step.

  A near silent rumble from Singh made my heart skip a beat. I moved toward the back room where the pool tables sat. It was dark, but my eyes caught a slight movement in the shadows. As I passed a table, I set Bennet's knife down, my eyes never leaving the darkness and I called my own blade to my hand. I had found the demon.

  At the edge of the arched doorway to the pool table room, I paused. The darkness seemed too complete in my peripheral vision, and I turned my head in time to see a blaze of magic fire spark to life, blinding me momentarily before it shot straight for me. I jumped back a step just in time, and the fire crashed into the wall and sputtered out.

  I stepped forward again and, as another ball of fire took shape, I launched my blade and heard the wet thud of the hilt hitting flesh as the blade slid home. A female voice screamed, and the body dropped before I called my blade back to me. I assumed it was Cindy. The darkness robbing me of confirmation.

  “Face me, Bennet. Only a cowardly warlock hides behind filthy magic and a young witch. Are you not powerful enough to fight your own battles?” my voice spoke without me. Durga taking liberties with my body was normal, but with the tension in the room, her words were like a spark in a puddle of gasoline.

  Bennet's scream of rage echoed through the bar, shattering the glass behind me and the unlit bulbs above the pool tables. Sparks flew with the glass, blinding me for a moment, giving the warlock an opportunity to leap upon me, his hands circling my throat. He rode me to the floor, my back cracking as it hit the hard tile. A roar beside me was the only warning as the lion grabbed hold of the warlock, his teeth around the man’s arm and threw him across the room.

  Bennet rose a moment later and flung his magic at Singh, who collapsed in a heap.

  “NO!” I screamed as my knife appeared in my hand again and the warlock’s eyes turned in my direction.

  I faced off against Bennet, his magic against mine. His magic was red hot. He threw a ball of fire at me. I dodged, avoiding the flame. Frankie appeared behind his father. Frankie’ raised his hand, and I saw magic start to form. It wasn’t his usual magic though. It was dark red like his fathers, and I saw he was about to tarnish himself to save the city and his coven.

  In the same second Bennet turned and pressed his hand to Frankie’s chest, as if he had known his son was there all along. I released my blade in a last effort to end the dark warlock’s miserable existence before it was too late. My knife spun end over end and hit its mark. Bennet collapsed with the handle of my knife in the side of his skull. But it was a moment too late. Frankie was blasted backwards by Bennet’s magic and slammed into the far wall of the room with such force, he broke through the drywall, causing a cloud of white dust to drift after him as he crumpled to the ground.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  I froze in place.

  Bennet was dead, but what about Frankie? Or Singh? Where was Arnie? I couldn’t decide what to do first. The silence stretched out, broken only by my labored breathing, until I heard a soft growl behind me. The sound snapped me back to motion, and I turned. Singh lay on his side, outside of the pool table room. The light from the glass front door, illuminated the blood covering him. I assumed his own, as he hadn’t done more than throw the warlock off me. I scrambled to his side and put my hand on his chest. It rose and fell in a steady rhythm. His paw moved, touching my leg with the rough pads of his foot. A warm flush began at the place where his paw touched me. It spread throughout my body, running down my arm, until the warmth flowed out my fingertips. Singh’s chest grew warm beneath my hand. Durga rose to the surface and used my mouth to coo at the lion, like he was a tiny kitten. She didn’t speak English, but the tone was universal.

  Singh sat up and turned his bright yellow eyes to mine. He shifted back to human form, his gaze never faltering.

  “Thank you, mother Durga,” he whispered, bowing his head.

  A rustle made me turn my head in time to watch as Cindy disappeared with a still unmoving Frankie. I jumped up, but it was too late.

  “Shit, I hate that witch,” I muttered.

  Singh stood up, his clothes clung to him, wet with blood.

  “We have to find Arnie and then kill that stupid witch.”

  “I hear some voices,” Singh said, picking his way through the debris towards the bar. He flipped up a section of the counter that made a doorway and stepped behind the bar. He unlatched a solid oak door on the far side to find a few humans locked inside. As soon as the door opened, they shoved past us and each other until they disappeared into the night. Inside the storage room, Arnie slumped against the far wall.

  I bolted across the small room and fell to my knees in front of the old warlock. He wasn’t moving. I pressed my hand to his cold wrinkled cheek. He was dead.

  “Durga, please?” I begged. She had healed Singh. Could she not save the old warlock?

  Her sadness coursed through me, but she didn’t warm my hand. There was nothing the great Goddess could do about death. Death was final.

  I slid his eyelids closed and straightened his rumpled shirt. He still gripped his dishrag that he used to wipe down the bar. A single tear tipped over the edge of my eyelid and trailed down my face towards the old warlock. I stood before it could fall and replaced the grief with rage.

  I already had my revenge on Bennet, but Cindy still lived, and she would feel my wrath. A fire grew in my chest, each breath I took stoked the flame.

  I pushed all the emotion away for a moment and located Frankie. He was in the warehouse. My anger flowed freely as Durga mixed hers with mine. I turned to Singh. He stood in the doorway of the storage room watching us.

  “He’s mine, the witch will die today,” Durga said with my mouth.

  Singh nodded. “Yes, Goddess Durga.”

  Durga pushed me out of the small room and then out of the bar. She forced my legs into a run. She wasn’t toying with Frankie when she had hinted that she desired him. Her rage was that of a lover scorned. I could not have stopped her rampage, had I wanted to.

  Singh ran beside me as a human. But the growl that underlaid each of his breaths betrayed his animalistic side.

  We rounded the corner and into the alley. The solid steel door of the warehouse stood between Frankie and me. Durga rose up and kicked the door in like the frame was made of paper. It fell with a loud hollow bang, and we strode into the place of magic.

  Today the ceiling displayed hundreds of dragons swirling and roiling like the sea. Their time faded wings were flapping and bodies churned. The warriors with pikes and swords clashed in great bloody battle on the walls. The scene so alive, their battle screams and death moans almost reached my ears. The candles were lit again, and the sconces glowed bright enough to illuminate the entire space.

  In the middle of the vast space stood Cindy holding her stomach. Blood trailed down her leg and puddled at her feet. A limp and broken Frankie lay on the floor beside her. He was still alive; his chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm.

  “This isn’t what I wanted,” she said, her eyes focused on the ground. “I’m sorry, Durga. I just wanted him to love me.”

  “You do not destroy that which you love!” Durga hollered back.

  In a flash of light, the three members of the council arrived. Durga turned her rage on them.

  “You have made a fine mess!” she scorned.

  “Our apologies again, Durga. We had no previous knowledge of this child. She had always been loyal,” the ancient witch said from her place beside the two warlocks.

  Cindy dropped to her knees. “Please, I beg of you. This was not the plan. Bennet promised only you would die and then I would be with Frankie. I never meant for any of this to happen.” She crumpled, her head in her hands as sobs wracked her hunched back in violent shutters.

  “You thought you could kill me?” Durga laughed. The so
und of it scared me, and I shrunk back to let her do what she wanted. Her power welled like a dam at capacity. The weight of it would have dropped me to the floor, but she held us upright as my arms came out to my sides.

  My arms divided and multiplied. My head nearly bowed beneath the weight of a crown. I was no longer standing on my feet but sitting on Singh who was a massive lion again. His spicy smell infused my nostrils and the sound of bells echoed through the open room.

  Cindy was a stain on humanity. Her shocked look lasted only a moment as Durga’s golden trident flew from my hand and impaled her in the throat. The force of it knocked her over backwards. The room fell to silence.

  The dragons on the ceiling blew fire and danced. Their rhythm slowing until they ceased. The wall sconces snuffed out leaving the room half lit. Durga, her revenge complete, folded herself back into the corner she occupied within me.

  I slid off Singh who then lay down on the floor and rested his chin on his crossed feet.

  Walking towards Frankie, I watched as his chest continued to rise and fall. The rhythm steady and assuring.

  I knelt beside him and took his hand. He was still covered in drywall dust, but when I touched his face, his eyes fluttered open, and my heart skipped a beat. His gaze skipped past me to the walls and ceiling, then focused on my face. He traced my features with his eyes for a moment and then smiled, his ridiculous cocky half grin. It was so absurd and so perfect, I leaned down and kissed his dusty lips.

  When I leaned back up to look at him, he cleared his throat. “Did we get him, Lark?”

  “Yes, we got him, Frankie.” He smiled and scanned the room again, His eyes fell on Cindy’s body, her throat a mess of blood from the trident that had vanished when Durga left.

  “I should have known,” he said.

  “You couldn’t have,” I replied.

  “I can read minds, Lark.”

  The female council member cleared her throat. “Thank you for taking care of this problem, we will go now,” she said.