Feral Night, page 4
“I’ll meet you there.” He hung up.
Chapter 5
Three Breaths
After the inspector arrived later in his white sedan, Lukie attempted to coax Anneth into the vehicle. “This is a car,” Lukie explained. “If you get inside, you can come with us.”
In the night-time streets, Anneth’s presence diminished; a pale paint smear rather than the vibrant portrait she’d been in the graveyard.
“It is strange, this carriage,” the ghost whispered. Another sign she came from olden times before automobiles had been invented.
“Who are you talking to?” Tamlyn sat in the front driver’s seat. His face, as usual, remained poker-blank, although Lukie was learning the angrier he got, the calmer he appeared.
“A ghost. Can you see her?”
“No.”
“Hear her?”
“No.” Tamlyn regarded Lukie with flat gray eyes. “Why does she need to come with you?”
“She remembers nothing. I promised to discover her identity—”
“I will hide within my remains,” Anneth whispered. “I fear I will not last long fully manifested in this barren place.” She faded from view. The chill emanating from the urn increased, implying she was hiding in there like a genie inside a bottle.
Lukie clambered into the front passenger seat, holding the urn in her lap. Tamlyn glanced at the object, started the car, then drove through the night streets of Storm City. Lukie peered through the window, searching for the dog creature and hoping it wasn’t following them. Stay away, she told it.
Awkward silence hung between Lukie and Tamlyn. Lights from neon-lit shopfronts strobed across the windscreen, reflecting on Tamlyn’s weather-beaten face, with its receding hairline and graying mustache. Once he’d been her old high school friend, Sera Tanner. They had talked little about the how or why the transformation had occurred. Lukie had shoveled it away as one more strange facet of life in 2003, but the more time Lukie spent with him, the more the change grated. Especially as she needed to rely on him for everything—money, a place to stay, sorting out this mess with her father.
She sighed. Now to break the silence. “Is Dad alright?”
“I don’t know,” Tamlyn said. “Tell me what happened.”
She studied her muddy trainers and confessed to her late-night adventure, telling him about the visit, her curse, the creature, how Dad’s soul had been reaved, and how she’d met Anneth.
“Where did the dog come from?”
“No idea. Maybe that weird thing watching me sent it. It came when I told the girl to ‘go away.’ That wasn’t supposed to happen, believe me.”
“I do. Why didn’t you wait for me, like we discussed?” His voice was perfectly calm.
“When you returned from that earlier visit, you were more clammed up than normal. I thought you’d tell me not to see him again.” Lukie folded her arms. “Ever.”
“What if that was for the best?” Tamlyn insisted.
“I spent twenty years in the Underworld,” she growled. “To survive that, only to be told I can’t talk to my father? To never come home?”
“He’s moved on, Lukie.”
“Yeah, thanks for telling me about the replacement family.” She stuck her jaw out. Jealousy seethed within as she recalled Dad lunging forward to protect the New Girl. Had Dad taken his new daughter surfing? Cooked pancakes for her on weekends?
Tamlyn puffed his cheeks. “You can’t have expected Zeran to wait—”
“A little forewarning would have been nice!”
“I asked for your trust and patience. I was going to tell you, and then you ran off and this happened.” Tamlyn’s bleak face studied the road ahead.
“Your trust?” Lukie made fists. “When were you planning to explain how I’m still cursed by Cage? I tried to feed on that undead dog, and I wasn’t able to.” She locked her hands together. “At school, I always relied on you—”
“I was a different person then,” Tamlyn said.
“Yeah,” Lukie growled, missing the supportive presence of the red-haired girl. How could someone’s past and future selves be so unalike? “Where’s my photograph? And this time, I’m not going to put up with you stalling me again.”
Tamlyn drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “Cage wouldn’t give me your photograph back.”
Lukie fingered the artifacts in her pocket, missing the absent photo. It depicted her family when they’d all been together at their last Winterdark festival before Mama died.
“How do I eat?”
“He linked his spell to me. I have to be there to instruct you at the moment you feed.”
Dawning horror sunk in. “What now? I’m hungry.”
“I’ve got plenty of bad memories. Twenty years a police officer, and all.”
“I’m not eating your soul again. That will hurt you. Once was enough.”
“We’ll come up with a workable solution.” Tamlyn’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel. “Give me time.”
Lukie ground her teeth together. She wanted to be free, make her own choices and—
Like that worked out well for me tonight. She rested her head against the window. A traffic sign outside pointed to a highway that would have taken them toward the metropolitan wards of Storm City.
Originally, she’d been thrilled to visit. Not only to reunite with Dad but to explore the city around the Conservatorium of Music. Where she would have lived if she hadn’t died.
Yet the place was different to her imaginings.
Most cities and towns on the arid continent of Adhova were on the coastline, with people inhabiting large, built-up settlements as though they’d never forgotten the monsters that had prowled the wilderness during the Age of Magic. A good chunk of the population lived near the capital, Storm City. She’d been expecting Dad would live amongst the famous buildings that defined the City: Ambergrace Palace, the Tower of Reckoning, and even the Dark Emperor’s castle from which he had ruled the world two thousand years ago.
Except her father resided in the Thunderhead Ward: one of the wide, outer suburban areas. Endless strip malls, garden parks protected by chain-link fences, and red brick houses along green leafy streets. Little signs pointed the way to historical mansions and old castles in the area, yet none of them were as famous as the capital’s own ruins. It was a quiet, dull district, capturing the flavor of 1980s Breakwater Bay.
“I didn’t mean for any of this to happen,” she said into the thick silence.
“You need to be careful,” Tamlyn instructed. “The supernatural world works off different logic to the ordinary.”
“It’s full of stupid rules that make no sense!”
“It wouldn’t have hurt Cage to explain a few more things before he took off.” A faint edge crisped Tamlyn’s voice when he spoke of the absent monster hunter. “Let’s do what we can. Try thinking before you do anything. Take three breaths and—”
“I don’t breathe anymore.” Lukie glanced at her motionless chest.
“You need to breathe to speak,” Tamlyn said.
Did she? “Well, I don’t do it otherwise.”
“Count to three before you decide to do something significant. Crime and accidents happen because people don’t think about the consequences and do dumb shit that seems okay at the time. Like stealing a car they can barely drive because it’s got the keys in it. Those sorts of things accounted for a lot of my cases in Breakwater.”
“I should try to discover who Anneth is. She’s our key to rescuing Dad,” she explained. “And I’ll need food before I deal with that creature again, and…”
“One thing at a time,” Tamlyn said. “I’ll check on Zeran first, and then we’ll deal with your ghost problem.”
Tamlyn drove through a boom gate into a complex that reminded Lukie of a shopping mall until the sign loomed into view: Thunderhead Ward—Stonefell District—Central Hospital.
He navigated through rows of cars and parked close to the nearest looming building. “Please, stay here.” Tamlyn studied Lukie with his blank cop face as he turned off the engine.
“No.” She exited by the passenger side and slammed the door shut so hard the entire vehicle rocked.
Tamlyn winced at the harsh sound. He walked in front of her, his arms tensing. Did he want to lock her in the car? She’d like to see him try.
“Your clothes are shredded.” Tamlyn pointed at her. “Get your bag from the trunk.”
He’d taken her shopping earlier in the day at the local mall, but with her excitement over visiting Dad, she’d neglected to remove her purchases from the car. As Tamlyn opened the vehicle for her, she snatched her new garments and sorted through them, pulling out a red turtleneck sweater, needed to disguise the ligature marks on her neck left by the Baron, and a hoodie. She ducked behind the sedan to change quickly as they’d done at the beach, and then transferred the urn to the plastic bag.
“Can you remain out of sight until I call you? I mean this,” Tamlyn asked when she emerged. “If Zeran had an ordinary heart attack, and if he sees you again—”
“He didn’t. His soul was reaved.” Lukie stomped a foot. “I told you that. We should sort out Anneth’s problem now, rather than going over old ground.”
“I need more information.” Tamlyn pointed to her. “Follow me from a distance. Don’t talk to anyone. Don’t approach me until I contact you. Got it?”
“Fine.” Lukie checked she was wearing her sunglasses. She trailed after Tamlyn. Why doesn’t Tamlyn trust me? I told him exactly what happened. Mundane doctors won’t tell us anything.
The main foyer of the hospital was lit with blaring fluorescent lights. A creature of darkness, she cringed. Tamlyn cut through a half-full waiting room of bored people to speak to a nurse at a forward-facing desk, to be pointed further onwards. Tomorrow was New Year’s Eve. When, according to folklore, the boundaries between the lands of the living and dead were at their weakest. Familiar ornaments—strings of painted plastic bells, and paper ghost wards—covered the walls, although she couldn’t see any of the scary demon masks they used in Breakwater Bay’s version of the festival. A battered, red shrine box sat on a stand near the door, holding offerings of food—an item from the Harmonist religion that Lukie only vaguely recognized. She glared at the decorations, trying to overcome the screaming instinct in her mind that it should be New Year’s Eve 1983 soon, not 2003.
People seated in the waiting room stared at her. What? Did she have something on her face? Was it the sunglasses at night? They were a mix of hominins—humans, ogres, elves, and dwarrow—but no blended folk like her. All with a wide variety of facial features and skin colors, rather than the pale-skinned, fair-headed inhabitants common to the Breakwater Bay area. She surveyed their alien fashions: low-rise jeans, singlet tops, cargo pants, and big chunky shoes. Would she ever get used to this time?
“Freak,” an old woman with a neck brace croaked as walked past.
“Sorry?” Lukie stopped. Tamlyn strode ahead of her into the hospital’s sprawling depths.
“It is forbidden for the different hominins to lie together and breed,” the woman rasped, eyes bright. “You filthy mule—”
“Grandmother, stop.” A big, balding man placed his hand on the old woman’s arm. “She can’t help it—”
How was she supposed to deal with this? Whatever, Dad needs me more. She pulled her hoodie over her head and ran into the hospital, fuming.
She’d been raised human. Everyone at school had treated her as one of them. Well, she’d been an eccentric punk-rock drama queen with a band, but that was how she’d invented herself. Not as Lukie Carpenter, blended human and elf. She knew shit about elves and their culture, only that after her mother died, her elven family wanted nothing to do with her. They hadn’t even come to Mama’s funeral.
After a hurried jog, Tamlyn’s back loomed into view. He hadn’t noticed the altercation.
He doesn’t need to know.
She trailed him through the maze of corridors, guided by signs that pointed to the Intensive Care Unit. The hallways spilled into a smaller waiting room, where people sat on uncomfortable plastic chairs, staring at the television suspended in a corner.
Seated on the bench was a woman reading a magazine. The New Girl leaned against her, clutching her antler wand to her chest, now bound with loops of tape. The object that had hurt Lukie during their initial struggle. Somehow. Another reason to stay away.
Tamlyn approached the New Family, and Lukie strained to overhear their conversation.
“… an intruder broke in… local police are still looking… Zeran’s catatonic…” The New Wife wept. Tamlyn held her, his face expressionless.
Lukie burned with shame. She couldn’t even feel resentful towards the New Wife for replacing her mother right now—that line of thought seemed so childish with the fact that she’d stupidly endangered her father, causing everyone to look for a non-existent criminal. What had they told the Venison? She turned, hands curling into fists. Tamlyn had managed this situation for her. What if Cage was right? That someone like her deserved to be bound forever, unable to make sensible decisions? She slipped into the hospital’s maze until she found a place devoid of people, where she could be alone and think.
Footsteps echoed behind her.
“Okay!” She readied herself for a confrontation with the stupid New Girl, who must have followed—
Instead, the gray beast from the graveyard loped toward her.
Chapter 6
The Death Knight
The creature growled, straining against the bulky, rusted iron muzzle clamping its jaws shut. Its hindquarters bunched as it hurled itself at Lukie.
She dodged and ran, the wrapped urn tucked under her right arm.
How had the dog-thing tracked her here?
A direct fight with the beast meant risking the urn’s safety. Running to the nearest fire escape, she pushed the door open and pounded down the steps.
The sound of claws on concrete echoed behind her.
Harsh, fluorescent lights clicked on as Lukie descended one level, then two. She burst through the exit of Basement 3 and raced into a lit corridor. The everyday nature of the bright illumination clashed with the surrealness of the undead thing chasing her.
She headed left. As a revenant, she didn’t get tired, only hungry for more souls. All she had to do was keep moving and—
The hall ended at a door labeled Storage.
Crap. She needed a better strategy than running blindly through an unfamiliar location. As she reversed, the beast pounced. Lukie sidestepped as the creature sailed past. She kicked. Her sneaker smashed into the creature’s neck, making its chain-link collar ring with a harsh metallic jangle. The monster hit the ground, righted itself, sprung to all fours, and leapt. It crashed into Lukie’s chest and sent her toppling backwards against the hard floor.
Slashing with its claws, the beast sheared off Lukie’s right arm—the one holding the urn. With a growl, it seized the clay vessel with its clawed hand and fled, loping awkwardly on three legs.
Lukie’s severed appendage withered on the ground like a dead spider.
She screeched and staggered to her feet. Her forearm stump pumped black vapor in the air.
Lukie grabbed her mummified limb, horrified at its shrunken state. Its skin was rough against her animate fingers. She shoved it against the stump, but the shadowy essence continued to leak. Her undead flesh refused to seal. The wound didn’t hurt, exactly, but a growling, gnawing hunger stirred deep in her gut.
Another sign she wasn’t human anymore. A monster.
Perhaps she’d be one-handed for the rest of her undeath. What if—
The urn! Her promise to Anneth! Saving Dad! Overcoming her shock, she tucked the withered limb under her left arm and chased the dog thing.
A thump and creak indicated the beast was at the fire exit.
Lukie gave chase. Hunger gnawed at her belly. She’d need to feed on a soul soon.
If Tamlyn let her.
The creature fled up the stairs and exited on Basement 1. Lukie followed it along a wide, empty corridor.
The distant whispering of the Underworld echoed in her mind, indicating a rent was close.
If the monster got away, she’d lose the urn and Anneth—
Lukie increased her pace.
Around the next corner, the entrance to a morgue loomed. And there; a rent to Tenebra cut through the air.
The creature neared the tear in the physical world’s reality.
With a garbled cry, Lukie dropped her severed limb and threw herself at the beast, grabbing its slick hindquarters.
The monster snarled, twisted, and raked the side of her face with its claws. Smoke boiled from her wounds. Hunger knotted her belly as her undead form struggled to heal.
If she took another injury, she might fall apart into a cloud of spectral energy. She couldn’t risk losing time—any delay would make it harder to rescue Dad safely.
Lukie gripped the monster’s hind leg with her remaining hand and pulled.
Footsteps echoed in the distance. A nurse in scrubs ran toward her. Perhaps about twenty-five, his long dark hair tied back. Smoked goggles concealed his eyes.
A sense of ice and darkness congealed around him and intense whispers from Tenebra beat against Lukie’s ears. Another undead being. Ghost or revenant? Anneth had appeared normal when they’d first met but lacked a physical form.
The newcomer extended his hand. Dark smoke plumed from it, solidifying it into a bone broadsword with a basket hilt. Etchings of roses and thorns covered the weapon’s blade. He raised the weapon.
Cage had done that—made a sword of golden light from nowhere. Wait, even if the man was undead, was he also a preserver? Lukie scrambled backwards, getting ready to run. No way would she get screwed over by another monster hunter—
But the man slashed at the creature, cutting the dog-thing’s side open. The monster yelped and threw the urn away.
