“Roughly two city blocks,” Rans said. “But the question remains. If the effect had already dissipated, why would approaching it cause our friend here to end up in the hospital?”
“Shock?” Nigellus asked blandly.
“Emotional shock doesn’t cause myoclonic seizures in someone who’s not already prone to them,” Len said in an absolutely flat tone. “Which I’m not.”
“The human was drawn to the dead zone because he possesses latent necromancy.” Everyone in the room turned to look at Albigard. The Fae’s gaze speared Len’s. “No doubt he was negatively affected by the experience for the same reason.”
Len stared at him, running the words through his head a second time in hopes that they’d make more sense. They didn’t.
“... the fuck?” he asked, still scowling at Albigard.
The Fae raised an eyebrow. “Necromancy. The facility for drawing power from the moment of death, whether or not there exists a previous soul-binding between the two parties.”
Len was only peripherally aware of the way Nigellus turned a speculative gaze on him—too busy waiting for the Fae in the doorway to wave a hand and say he’d been joking, that Len was a stupid, perfectly normal human of no interest to anyone.
You reek of death.
The words echoed in his memory. Had it only been a week ago? A pale glow moving in the corner of Len’s eye made him jerk his head around. Yussef’s ghost sat on a counter in the corner, swinging his heels; his head tilted on its broken neck. Len blinked, and the vision was gone.
“So much death in one place would be irresistible to one with such predilections—but the Hunt had already fed,” the Fae continued, speaking as though Len weren’t in the room. “The promise of death was an illusion. The animus was already gone, sucked into the Void. The disconnect between expectation and reality might have been sufficient to throw a human mind into discord extending to the physical. They are, as has been pointed out, fragile creatures.”
Len’s chair legs screeched against the tile. “I need to lie down.”
“There are rooms upstairs.” Albigard’s cool, uncaring tone made it sound like he’d been discussing dinner plans, or something equally boring. The lines of strain in his disgustingly pretty face said otherwise. Len gritted his teeth and shoved past him through the doorway, knocking shoulders roughly with the Fae as he went.
* * *
The bedroom Len stumbled into contained a bed, a dresser with a comb and... oddly... a crochet hook resting on it, a chair, and not much else. He stared into the dresser mirror for long moments, meeting the gray-eyed gaze of a pale stranger in a hoodie, with blue hair hanging in a lank, greasy fringe across his forehead—and no piercings decorating his face.
He dug into his pants pocket and pulled out the plastic baggie containing three captive bead rings. The hospital staff had lost one of the loose beads. He tossed the baggie onto the dresser, then put his wallet and phone next to it.
Kat would be freaking out, he thought. He needed to let her know he was all right... for a given definition of ‘all right.’ There was no charger for his phone, which would almost certainly be dead by now. And even if there had been a charger, trying to power on the phone inside this house would likely fry it with Albigard downstairs. He turned away from the pitiful looking asshole reflected in the mirror and checked the room’s other door.
It led to a spacious bathroom. Like the rest of the house, the space reeked of neglect. To his relief, though, the water was on, and so was a water heater somewhere. There were towels and washcloths in the cabinet under the sink. They smelled stale, but appeared to be clean. Len double-checked that the showerhead worked before stripping down. At least his goddamned tattoos were still there, climbing up the length of both arms. Some part of the identity—the armor—he’d forged for himself after Detroit still remained.
Shampoo, conditioner, and a bar of soap sat on the shelf in the shower stall; the kind of cheap stuff you’d find at any drugstore. He stepped under the water and turned his face into the spray, resolutely not thinking about anything except the scalding water peppering his skin. The shower was huge—easily big enough for two people. In fact, the whole house was massive... but it felt bare. Neglected. As if the details that made someplace a home were every bit as invisible to the Fae who owned it as the property supposedly was to others.
Shaking water from his eyes, Len reached for the soap and started scrubbing the last couple of days off his skin. He shampooed his hair twice, worked some conditioner into it, and wished desperately for access to hair gel, mousse, or even some damned hairspray. After drying off with one of the dusty-smelling towels, he pulled on his two-day-old sweats and t-shirt.
The comb on the dresser was coated with something tacky—shea butter from the little plastic tub abandoned on the corner of the dresser, probably. The idea of using someone else’s comb would have grossed him out more than a little in the general course of things... but scrubbing the comb in the sink with hot water and soap gave him an excuse not to think for a few more minutes. He dried it off and ran it through the longer blue fringe on the top of his head, then ran his fingers through the natural black of the buzzed-short sides.
With nothing else left to do that didn’t involve going back downstairs and acknowledging the others’ presence, he lay down on the bed, taking care to arrange his damp hair so it wouldn’t dry sticking straight up in the back. He’d left the bedroom lights on, partly in hopes of discouraging ghosts, but mostly because he did not, in fact, want to sleep.
He slept anyway.
NINE
THANKFULLY, ANY dreams he might have had didn’t stick with him when a soft knock on the door woke him some time later. The low angle of the light outside suggested it was early evening. He realized he had no idea what time it had been when the others had busted him out of the hospital and dragged him here.
“Len?” The muffled voice belonged to Zorah, and he sighed in resignation.
“Yeah, come in,” he told her.
The door creaked open. Len didn’t rise as she came inside and perched on the edge of the bed, looking down at him.
“Hey,” she said. “I thought you might be getting hungry. There’s food in the kitchen, though it may be mostly vegetarian stuff.” She paused. “Do you want to talk about what Albigard said—”
“No,” he snapped, cutting across her. “I really don’t.”
She regarded him with knowing brown eyes, but changed the subject. “Right. Nigellus left a couple of hours ago. Said he was going to contact someone who might be able to help us with the rampaging death monster sitch.”
“Good for him,” Len said. He rolled into a sitting position. “Do you remember Betty from across the street, one house down?”
Zorah was silent for a long moment. “Yeah. I mean... not well. I think she bought magazine subscriptions from me a couple of times when I was a kid, and the swim team was raising money to go to state finals. She seemed nice.”
Len rubbed at the corners of his eyes, squeezing the bridge of his nose. “She was nice. And now she’s dead. Unless she happened to be out of the neighborhood between five and six in the morning for some reason.”
“Yes.” Zorah’s tone was even.
“There were kids in that neighborhood, Z.”
“Yes. There were.”
Len looked at her, fighting an urge to shout. To make a scene until someone else started acting as upset as he currently felt.
Zorah didn’t back down. “The world sucks. It sucks so much worse than we thought it did, before we knew about the monsters. People died. We can’t bring them back. So instead, we have to keep struggling forward. Albigard and Nigellus think that since the Hunt has gotten a taste of the easy pickings on Earth, it will keep coming back. And every time it feeds, it will get stronger. It will get bigger, Len.”
The desperate, out of control feeling Len had learned to fear over the years was beginning to slide across his mind. He leaned forward, tangling his
fingers in his hair and gripping tight.
“Just tell me one thing, and don’t lie to me,” he demanded. “Did that thing come back to our neighborhood because I was there? Because I insisted on going home?”
“What? No!” Zorah sounded appalled, as though she’d just figured out the direction his thoughts had been taking. Her hand closed on his shoulder. “Len, no. It came back because there was already a hole in the veil.” Strong fingers squeezed until he looked up. “We’re the ones who fucked up. Not you. Albigard was so sure it would only be interested in him. He says it’s not acting the way the Hunt is supposed to act. Honestly, he’s kind of freaking out about it. I’ve never actually seen him this upset before.”
Len wanted to say something scathing about the Fae’s emotional state. It was on the tip of his tongue, in fact. But he remembered the haggard lines etched in the Fae’s face, and swallowed the words. How must it feel to learn that your own people had sent an executioner after you, and the executioner decided to start dabbling in mass murder on the side while they were supposed to be hunting you down?
“Okay,” he said instead. “You said Nigellus left. Does that mean I can leave, too?”
Her expression grew worried. “Len—you shouldn’t go back to St. Louis. That thing will probably be back as soon as it gets hungry again... or as soon as it starts feeling bolder.”
He shook his head, irritated. “I don’t mean St. Louis. I’m not an idiot, Zorah. I meant, can I go into the city for a few hours. I need to pick up some things.”
“Oh. Right... I mean, it’s okay as far as I know. But... there’s no car for you to use,” she said apologetically.
“I’ll get an Uber,” he said. “Is there a charger for an iPhone around here someplace? I assume I can still recharge the battery around Blondie, as long as I don’t power the phone on while he’s nearby.”
She nodded. “Yeah, there’s a collection of chargers from the last time we were stuck here with Guthrie and Vonnie. But you’ll have to direct the Uber to one of the neighbors’ addresses and meet them at the road. They won’t be able to find this place.”
Len sighed. “Right. Because it’s invisible. Christ on a crutch.”
“I’ll track down a charger for you,” she said. “And, Len—I’m really sorry we dragged you into this mess.”
Len pushed back against the darkness that threatened to bury him. “Not your fault, Z.”
“Well—it kind of is, actually.” She sighed. “But I guess things would have happened pretty much the same way no matter where we’d taken him. I’m just glad you’re all right. When we saw the news reports... I lost my shit. Not gonna lie. We got down there as fast as we could and found your car parked outside of the dead zone. That’s when we started checking hospital admissions, looking for you.”
“Hey, at least you two saved me some medical bills,” he managed, digging for something—anything—to lighten the oppressive atmosphere lying between them.
“Sure. All part of the service,” she agreed, trying on a half-smile that wasn’t very convincing. “Which reminds me—Rans stored the pimpmobile in that self-storage place west of Tower Grove Park. The owner owes him a favor, and we figured that way, it wouldn’t get towed.”
“Good to know,” he said, his voice sounding tired to his own ears.
“Anyway,” Zorah continued, “if you want to grab some food while your phone’s charging, Albigard’s off brooding somewhere. So you should be safe.”
The mention of the Fae blackened Len’s mood again, but he just nodded. “Okay. Food it is.”
* * *
The fridge was full of what Len thought of as rabbit food—but it was fresh, and it was organic. He threw together a salad and topped it with oil and vinegar, resolving to pick up something more substantial while he was out.
By the time his cell battery was charged to fifty percent, it was dark outside. He went outside to call for the Uber, so Albigard wouldn’t accidentally destroy his phone, and came back in to let the others know he’d be returning late. Then he walked down to the road to meet the driver. He hadn’t really appreciated before how woodsy the area was, though he recalled Zorah telling him the property backed up to a nature preserve. The graveled drive was long and winding, and the nearest neighbor’s driveway was a bit of a trek once he reached the road.
That at least meant he didn’t have much of a wait for his ride. His bank account wouldn’t be thanking him after tonight, but at least his under-the-table side hustle ensured he had a bit of cash on him. Besides, sometimes you had to set aside good judgment in favor of doing whatever it took to keep your shit together for another day.
He directed the driver to the nearest fast food place with a drive-through, in exchange for the promise of a large tip and the offer to treat him to a shake or something, if he wanted. Afterward, the car dropped him off at a tattoo parlor that took walk-ins and had excellent reviews online.
An hour later, he walked out with all of his piercings redone. His face ached like hell, but it was worth it to feel more like himself. There was a drugstore on the corner, which provided some basics like a toothbrush, toothpaste, socks, underwear, and hair product, along with a cheaply made school backpack to carry everything. A secondhand clothing store two blocks over yielded a pair of jeans and a couple of tops.
Errands done, Len stepped onto the sidewalk and took a deep breath. On the positive side, the city felt a lot less like a powder keg than it had last week. There were still some windows boarded up, and the people walking around had a sort of wary, hunched-in look about them. He’d seen two cop cars cruise slowly past in the short time he’d been here.
But... the businesses were open, for the most part. No one was wandering around the area setting fire to stuff. Len was painfully aware that it wouldn’t be too difficult for him to head a bit further into the backstreets and find a dealer to score some coke. He mulled the prospect until his hands began to shake.
Call Kat, said the little voice of reason that occasionally poked its head up when he was contemplating horrible life choices. The realization that Kat still didn’t know if he was dead or alive jolted him free of the siren call of addiction, momentarily at least. He found a quiet doorway and dialed.
“Len?” Kat’s voice was loud in his ear. “Oh, my god—Len! Is that you? Say something!”
“It’s me,” he said. “I’m okay. Sorry I didn’t call sooner. I was in the hospital...”
“But you’re all right?” she demanded. “I saw the news—”
“I’m all right,” he promised. “I’m in Chicago, staying with a couple of vampires. What happened in my neighborhood... it’s more shit to do with the Fae. It’s bad, Kat.”
“They’re saying on the news that it was a chemical spill,” Kat said. “I thought that sounded like bullshit.”
“One hundred percent certified bullshit,” Len agreed. “Look... I’m not sure exactly how this is going to shake out. But do you have any friends you could visit out of town for a week or two? There’s, uh, some likelihood that whatever this thing is, it’s going to keep coming back to the same place where it broke through before. Only... bigger, next time.”
Kat was silent for a long moment. “How much bigger? And what kind of ‘thing’?”
Len closed his eyes, leaning against the brick wall of the entryway. “That’s the problem. I’ve no idea. I don’t think anyone knows. It’s some kind of monster that broke through from the Fae realm. It’s not supposed to be on Earth at all.”
More silence.
“Have you noticed how lately, each new disaster is worse than the one before?” she asked.
Have I ever, he thought. “Yeah,” he said. “It’s been kind of a slow-rolling clusterfuck, these past few months. Can you get away from the city for a while, though?”
“After this conversation, let’s just say I’m feeling highly motivated,” she told him. “I’ll figure something out.”
He nodded to himself. “Good.”
�
��What about you, though?” she asked. “Do you need anything? Have you got money?”
Len snorted. “As much as I ever do. No... don’t worry. I’ve got some cash and a credit card with me. And if worse comes to worst, the vampires are rich, right? I’m sure one of them can loan me few hundred without noticing the loss.”
“Is Leonides with you?” Kat asked.
“No, he’s still hunkered down someplace with Vonnie and those kids who were abducted,” Len replied. “I’m with his granddaughter and her boyfriend right now. I don’t think you’ve met them, but they’re mostly all right... when they’re not busy dragging me into the middle of crazy-ass shit like this.”
“Just be careful,” Kat said. “Are you holding up okay?”
“For a given definition.” It wasn’t a total lie. If nothing else, at least his hands had stopped shaking.
“Well, keep me posted. I hope I don’t have to tell you that I was a wreck when I realized it was your neighborhood that got hit.”
“I’ll keep you updated as much as I can,” he promised. “But there are varying levels of crazy when it comes to these guys and their bullshit, and not all of them allow for calls or texts. Find yourself a nice bolthole that isn’t in St. Louis, and lie low for a bit, okay? Tell Gina and anyone else you can get hold of to do the same.”
“On it,” she said softly. “Thank god you’re all right, babe. Talk soon.”
“Talk soon,” he agreed. “Bye, Kat.”
He ended the call and let his head fall back against the wall. The frantic edge was gone from his need to get high, but he knew damn well he wasn’t going to be able to sleep a wink while he was like this. After arguing silently with himself for a full minute, he caved and did a phone search for nearby marijuana dispensaries. The closest one was more than three miles away. He could have hired another Uber to take him there, but somehow the prospect of paying someone to drive him to a place where the pot would be more expensive than buying it on the street rubbed him the wrong way.
Forsaken Fae: The Complete Series, Books 1-3 (Last Vampire World) Page 7
