A Touch Too Much

by Theresa Glover

  “Come on, Cee. Let’s go.”

  But I couldn’t. I jumped to my feet and ran after the nightmare.

  “What the hell is wrong with you, Caitlin?” Sister Betty slammed the rectory door behind her. “This,” she fumbled for words, “stunt was far more reckless than any of the crap you pulled in training as a teenager.”

  I crossed the room to the armory door, unable to look at her. Yes, I’d pursued the nightmare that touched her and damned her to have her worst fears manifest. Yes, I’d chased the thing that would eventually destroy the divine spark within that kept her alive. Did I regret it? Fuck, no. “Nothing’s wrong with me. My job is to save people. The nightmare escaped. I chased it to prevent it from touching anyone else.”

  The implication hung between us. It touched her while I wasn’t looking. While I distracted the agent covering her. She’d been touched, and it was my fault. The ramifications made me sick. I imagined her catatonic in a hospital bed like Riley, or worse, losing her altogether.

  Our eyes met. The redness around hers and the tiny red veins crisscrossing the whites made my chest ache. They telegraphed her fear, her awareness of her fate. First the nightmare feeding on her fear, then, death from the inside out.

  I might as well have murdered her myself.

  I paced the room, my back to her so I wouldn’t have to look at her any longer. “Why’s this an issue? You’ve taken bigger risks to catch a monster.”

  “This isn’t the same thing,” she said, her voice rising, her words becoming brittle. “What if it touched you, Caitlin? There are sensible times to put yourself in harm’s way, and there’s,” she grunted in frustration, “stupid ways of doing it. This was stupid. Do you get that? Running off alone to chase a monster is stupid. If it touched you—”

  “Like it touched you?”

  Her jaw clenched, but it didn’t stop her lip from trembling. She said nothing.

  “Cooper and Father C were already in pursuit. I joined to even up the odds of us catching it.” I swallowed hard around the lump in my throat as I lied. The guys had chased as soon as the nightmare ran. I followed because I needed to kill it, whatever it took. I ran four blocks before I heard Cooper yelling. When I got there, the nightmare had disappeared into a club. We’d searched but found nothing.

  “You’re reckless.” She followed me as I paced the small room, her pink rosary beads dangling from her clenched fist.

  “I’m doing my job,” I insisted.

  When we’d returned to the scene, Sister Betty’d sat in the back of Officer LaFontaine and Officer Boudreaux’s cruiser praying and running a rosary through her fingers. She’d refused to tell us her nightmare, shaking her head as tears rolled down her cheeks. Seeing the same beads in her hand now choked me up, but I refused to cry. I couldn’t let on how scared I was, too.

  With nowhere to hide in the rectory, I kept my back to her.

  “It’s not just today, either. You let the Black Dog chase you. Do you know what might have happened if it caught you? Do you understand the risk you took? Even if you managed to keep its focus off the thousands of people you endangered on Bourbon and all the side streets, it could have killed you. Then what would have happened?”

  “It didn’t.”

  “That’s not the point!”

  “And if it got me, so what?” I whirled, yelling at her, though I didn’t want to. “There are other monster hunters. Sister Evangeline died, and now I’m here. Even if something happens to me, there are others. And that’s worst-case scenario. Maybe I’d manage to mortally wound whatever tries to eat me before I died. Maybe I’d trigger some kind of allergic reaction to whatever gets me. It doesn’t matter. I’m not special. I’m just doing the work someone else would do if I wasn’t here. I protect people, but if I couldn’t, someone else would.” My eyes fell on the beads in her hand, and a ripple in her tight shirt indicating the newly re-bandaged stitches in her side. “Maybe someone else should.”

  She threw her arms up, exasperated. “Either you’re not listening, or you don’t care whether you live or die.”

  “I didn’t say that.” I fought the sting of tears.

  “You don’t have to,” she said softly, her faltering words cracking. “Your carelessness is like a death wish.”

  “If I was careless, I’d say ‘fuck it,’ take my vacation, and let the world fend for itself. Instead, I’m risking my life to save everyone else. Everyone.” I wrestled to contain what crawled under my skin, my hands balled into fists as I resisted picking up something, anything, to throw. Instead, I whipped around. “Yet no matter what I do, someone bitches because it’s never enough. It’s not enough for Hardin who wants me some kind of robot that does nothing but fight monsters. It’s not enough for you because God forbid I don’t account for every minute risk. It’s not enough for the Pope, for Giulietta Perricone, or Benito Hernandez, or Shannon because none of them survived when I should have saved them. They were all my fault! And now, you.”

  Her shoulders dropped, and her anger melted.

  The first tear dripped off my nose.

  “Is…that what this is about? People you weren’t able to save?”

  My jaw ached as I clenched my teeth, my nails cutting into my palm.

  “Caitlin, you can’t save everyone.”

  “Yes, I can. I can get better, I can get stronger, I can—”

  “No.” Sister Betty reached out and touched my shoulder, and I shivered. “There will always be someone, something bigger and badder than you and bent on destruction or murder. All you can do—”

  “Not good enough.” I swatted her hand away, my heart aching at the hurt in her eyes. “I will do my job. If that means I die doing it, so be it, but if there’s even the smallest chance I can save someone, I will. If there’s some way I can save you—” I bit off the rest and turned, wild, needing to flee. I snatched my key and my Glock off the table and darted around her.

  “Where are you going?” she called after me.

  “To do my fucking job.”

  Humidity made the air thick. Walking back to the hotel felt like wading through swamp water, and tourists further slowed my progress to a crawl, especially around jazz bands playing in the street for change. None of it did much to ease my frustration, but I tried to be patient.

  A blast of cool air poured over me as I entered my hotel. I shivered and calmed a little. As I crossed the lobby, the sheen of perspiration finally drying on my exposed skin, I realized maybe Sister Betty had a point. Letting the Black Dog chase me like prey had been one of my craziest, and most impulsive, ideas. The improvisation led to its capture, but maybe I’d risked too much. Whether I could have had a smarter or safer idea in the moment didn’t matter, but I hadn’t taken time to consider the possible encounters, and maybe that was her point.

  Maybe running after the nightmare under the pretense of backing up Cooper and Father Callahan was equally dumb. Two of my team had the matter in hand, two more needed me, and I’d run off, helping neither. I’d had time to think and pick the best solution but chose not to. My emotions won out over reason, and I’d been lucky. Next time…

  A lump of dread rose from deep in my gut and lodged in my throat as I crossed the lobby.

  If Sister Betty did die—

  No. None of that. Not now. Not yet.

  There had to be a solution, a way of stopping the nightmare without risking everything. I clutched the amulet between my breasts. Whatever its purpose, the weight felt grounding as I entered the empty elevator, pressed the button for my floor, leaned against the railing, and closed my eyes.

  I had to find a way of stopping it.

  Sister Betty would die if I didn’t, and time was running out.

  My reflection stared back at me, sweaty, dried hydra goo crusting my shirt. I needed a shower and, from the bags under my eyes, a nap. Cleaning up and getting some shut eye, hopefully nightmare-free, should clear up my perspective, then I’d come up with a plan, bring it to the team, and we’d try again
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  The elevator dinged, and I stepped out onto my floor, distracted by my thoughts.

  By the time I looked up, I’d passed my door and stood in the hallway with the mirror, still clutching the amulet. I shook my head and turned around with a snort.

  Then, I heard my name.

  I leaned back to look down the hall. Faint strains of music seemed to come from one of the rooms, and from the opposite end of the hallway, a cellphone rang. The mirror caught my eye again. Something about it never failed to draw my attention, maybe because I expected something unusual from it again. As far away as I was, my reflection looked normal.

  Until it waved.

  “Shit.”

  A monster hunter’s work is never done.

  With one last longing glance at my hotel room door, I turned on my heel and stalked the mirror. As I approached, the sparkling darkness surrounding my reflection swirled into a long, sparkling evening gown. I still gripped the amulet, but my reflection held a clutch that glinted in the overhead lights. Something in my reflection’s expression seemed…concerned, as if my reflection felt some kind of urgency to reach me.

  My reflection and I ran at each other.

  Just as I approached the table with the flowers and prepared to stop, reality bent, and I ran through what felt like an icy waterfall.

  14

  Crashing a party’s way more fun when you intend to do it. And when your arrival doesn’t instantly provoke an armed response.

  Welcome to my life.

  It happened so fast, I thought I’d finally crossed some threshold of sleep deprivation and landed in a hallucination. One minute, I was dirty, tired, and running down a hallway toward some alternate reality image of me in a magic or enchanted mirror, then I stepped into the middle of a hotel ballroom surrounded by a spectacle of impeccably dressed supernatural creatures. Less than a heartbeat later, cold, iron-strong fingers gripped my arms, tangled in my hair, and exposed my throat to the threatening prick of fangs over my jugular. A killing bite.

  Believe it or not, I’ve had worse receptions.

  Being zapped into a party by magical mirror portal only to be set upon by vampires isn’t the worst way I’ve spent a Friday night. Doesn’t crack my top ten, either. But that doesn’t mean I was immediately prepared. It took almost a full minute to figure out what the hell had happened, including being restrained by not just the one vamp with his teeth at my throat, but by two. They must have heard of me before.

  The gathering seemed to get the gist of the situation before me, though probably because they had a bigger-picture view and could turn their heads without puncturing their throats. A hushed silence settled around me, then swelled to an angry uproar.

  “These are supposed to be closed proceedings!”

  “If this is the security being offered, I’m leaving.”

  “What’s the meaning of this?” I couldn’t see who owned the angriest approaching voice. All motion, including turning or normal breathing, was out of the question, so I waited.

  “George, Lafayette, stand down.” This voice sounded less flustered and far more amused.

  The snick of retracting teeth shook me with a primal chill. Though the vampires didn’t release me, the imminent danger of becoming an unwilling blood donor had passed. I addressed the vampires holding me and straightened as much as their imprisoning grip would allow. “Not exactly the welcome I’d show my guests, but hey, you do you, boo.”

  Silence fell on the crowd, and hundreds of eyes stared at me from all over the dimly lit room. Not that there was anything remotely intimidating about standing in a pool of light in front of a ballroom filled with creatures, most of which had at least a passing interest in killing me. Or at least “playing” with me to the maiming point.

  The vampires held me immobile, on display for the creatures clustered around tables, whispering and pointing. Some creatures I recognized, like the sasquatch pair in the back sporting only bowties, the golden glow of were-creature eyes in the heaviest shadows, and the iridescent aura of a beautiful woman who had to be fae. Others I felt glad I didn’t recognize, like the scaled beast with six eyes and rows of hideous teeth, or short, tumbling creatures that might be goblins, or kobolds, or even gremlins. The most disturbing ones looked as human as me, though something wasn’t quite right about them.

  That’s when I understood.

  “This is the Compact.”

  “Of course it is,” said the offended, exasperated voice from behind me. “What else did you think you were interrupting?” The creature walked around me, a skeleton in a tuxedo. The black jacket and white shirt hung loose on its frame everywhere except the collar bones. “Exactly what do you intend to accomplish with this unforgiveable intrusion?”

  One creature, a hair-covered thing with a long, split tongue flicking between viciously sharp teeth made me think about some chimerical combination of a snake, shark and…Afghan hound. I tried not to stare at any of them, but each time I paused to take in the next creature, I met some other implausible image. Instead, I met the black void of the skeleton’s eye sockets in front of me. “I didn’t intentionally intrude.”

  The skeleton scoffed, though how it spoke without a voice box baffled me. It crossed its arms, and I swear I heard the rattle and scrape of bones. “Well, how’d you get here?”

  “You know.” I shifted as much as I could, immediately losing my train of thought, stunned into silence. My battle-dirty jeans and tank top had transformed into the same black, sequined dress I’d seen on my reflection. Sparkly fabric glided provocatively over my skin and spilled to the floor, a round, glittery clutch only slightly larger than the amulet, in my hand.

  “I’m waiting,” the skeleton prompted.

  I looked up at the clutch, mouth open. Crossing through the mirror, I’d become my reflection. “The amulet must have let me pass,” I muttered before realizing I’d said it aloud.

  “What?” When I didn’t answer, the skeleton stepped closer, and the vampires tightened their grip. “What did you say?”

  “Can I have my arms back, please?” I glared at the blond vampire holding my left arm and preventing it from reaching the clutch in my right hand. Whether the surly, scowling bloodsucker was Lafayette or George, I didn’t care. “It’s not like you couldn’t catch me whenever you wanted.”

  The vampire’s hair gleamed almost as pale as his ghastly skin as he tossed it over his shoulder and looked to the skeleton.

  Great. Rattlin’ Bones-y must be the emcee of this shindig.

  I gave the skeleton the full extent of The Look, expecting it to work as well as it did on humans and human-like supernats. On this…creature, it didn’t do much.

  Bones-y waited for me to answer.

  “Fine.” I sighed. “If you’ll let me look in my purse, I think I’ve got whatever passes as an invitation around here.”

  If skeletons could have eyebrows, I’m pretty sure one of his would have jumped off his bony forehead. And as much as you could expect a walking pile of bones to express emotion, this one looked curious. He crossed his arms and stared at me a moment longer, then nodded.

  The blond vampire released my hand.

  I repressed the urge to scowl at my former captive. No need to earn the next problem. It would come just fine on its own. “I’m going to open my purse now.” I wiggled the bag in my right hand. “It’s too small for weapons, so let’s not get frisky, okay?” That wasn’t quite true, but I didn’t know what was in it, and too much truth might be hazardous to my health.

  Opening the clutch, I prayed nothing inside would alarm the supernaturals within striking distance. Laying on the plush black satin lining was a tube of lipstick, a plastic key card from my hotel room, and a golden coin.

  I pulled out the coin, angling it in the light. One side was embossed with an image of a paddlewheel river boat, a fleur-de-lis, and a half mask, an engraving of the city name and date around the outer edge. The other side caught the light as I flipped it over, and someone at a nearb
y table gasped. Conversation rippled through the room, too low to understand.

  “How did you get that?” demanded the skeleton in the tuxedo, its arms akimbo.

  Before I could read the flip side of the coin, the frowning blond vampire re-captured my hand, and his dark-haired partner plucked it from my fingers. “Hey!”

  The skeleton took the coin from the vampire. “Remove her.”

  “Wait,” I protested.

  “Stop.” The word resonated through the ballroom, silencing all conversation.

  The skeleton stiffened.

  I looked around and followed the gaze of the creatures in the room until I saw him. My gut fluttered with hope as a silverback gorilla loped across the room.

  It couldn’t be…

  The skeleton shivered as the creature approached, the coin clutched in its fingers, unconcealed by lack of flesh. “Lushiku, this is highly irregular. A simple matter of security—”

  “She has a ticket, does she not?” The gorilla, Lushiku, pointed a thick, black, leathery finger at the coin peeking between the bones of the skeleton’s hand.

  “A forgery.”

  “You have not tested it.” The gorilla settled on its haunches, knuckles on the ground, his posture wrinkling the red sash draped across his massive chest. He winked at me. I wondered what he did with my panties. And why he wanted them in the first place. Maybe he’d consider it pre-payment for helping me.

  “I don’t need to,” the skeleton said, defensive. “She’s not on the member rolls. She’s an intruder, and I refuse to imperil the proceedings—”

  “A forgery is simple enough to prove, but you have neither checked the rolls for Miss Kelley’s name, nor have you tested her ticket. Is it integrity that concerns you, or are you and your faction still trying to discriminate against the humans?”

  The skeleton bristled, his bones scraping against the coin. “Your accusations are unfounded.”

  “They’re mere observations, Gideon. If you perceive them as accusations, perhaps they have merit.”