21 Shades of Night, page 174
“We need to get somewhere private,” I said.
A growl echoed from the side of the next house we passed. Yellow eyes reflected from the glow of the street light, and a shadow separated itself from the rest. The hellhound leaped at us. I shoved Esais to the side. The beast’s weight took me to the ground, and the concrete scraped against my bare legs as its teeth buried in my forearm. I swallowed the pain as I flicked the knife open and buried the blade in its side only to have the wound heal almost immediately.
This time it attacked in wolf form. I think it had now come at me in all shapes. Thank god it wasn’t as strong in this form as in the wolf-man hybrid. Otherwise, I would’ve lost the arm with the snap of its mighty jaws. It was the size of a mastiff with shaggy fur. It looked almost the same as the demon I’d seen in the bar. The hellhound had taken the werewolf’s body long enough for its true form to take physical shape. Was it too far gone to be banished? When a demon remained in a host this long, it was almost impossible to remove them by the sacred words alone. When that happened, only death could release the soul of the body it possessed.
I stabbed the hellhound several more times, not caring that the wounds sealed in seconds. The world faded around the edges, giving off a blurred view. Damnit, I wanted this beast’s blood to run down my hands, and this just wasn’t working. Esais grabbed the beast around its middle and yanked it back. It released me to snap at him and caught him in his shoulder. I rose to my feet as he tossed the hellhound to the side.
“Focus on its mind,” I said.
It jumped at us again. I tackled it in midair, and we tumbled into the grass with me on top this time. I drew my fist back and punched it in the nose. The beast gave something between a snarl and a yelp. It snapped inched from my face with a resounding click. I leaned back, brought my knife under its muzzle, and buried the blade in its neck. The damned creature could heal around three inches of steel.
“I exorcise ye, and powerfully banish ye, commanding ye with strength and violence by him who spake and it was done; and by all these names,” I murmured.
The beast shuddered and shoved me back with its front paws. I landed on my back a few feet away with the air knocked out of me. Even in wolf form, the beast was damn strong. It stood and shook its head, as if trying to clear its nose of a noisome smell.
Esais kept his gaze on the beast with his fist clenched and sweat dripping down his forehead. The beast snorted, tossing it head to and fro one last time before focusing its gaze on me. I crouched on the ground, scanning the grass for the glimmer of my knife. A blur of red and blue flashed in my peripheral, and a siren gave a short wail.
“Freeze,” a man’s voice yelled.
“What in God’s name is that?” Nancy said.
The hellhound turned it gaze to the two police and gave me a toothy grin. A sound rumbled from its chest that sounded suspiciously like a laugh. Esais stood to the side, his eyes narrowed in concentration mixed with frustration.
In one smooth motion, the beast launched itself at the police car. Hellhounds were never the most intelligent of demons, but when you have the power to heal almost instantly, I guess you didn’t worry about things like cops with guns. Nancy pulled her pistol out and fired. The shot echoed through the air followed by several others.
I flattened myself against the ground as the bullets passed over me. The hellhound yelped as it was caught in midair. It slammed into the hood of the car with a resounding crash. We would definitely be the news of the neighborhood now. It stood and shook its head as it stumbled to the ground. Its body moved from the impact of the bullets, but it paid them little attention. Its shoulders bunched, and its lips pulled back in a snarl. Nancy kept firing with her eyes wide and her face colorless. Esais pressed his back to the house and kept his gaze on the hellhound. Nancy’s partner backed from his position around the car to her side. He kept his gun trained on the beast.
“Nancy,” his voice was almost drowned by the gunfire.
The hellhound whined and growled, shaking its head again. It swung its head at me, and its eyes bored into mine. It winced again and dashed into the narrow opening between the two fences, disappearing into the alley.
Esais and I stayed in place, trapped by the flying bullets Nancy continued to fire. Her finger kept pressing the trigger after she emptied her clip. Her partner grabbed her arm. She slammed her other fist in his face, and he tackled her to the ground. I stood cautiously, holding my arm to my chest.
“Nancy, get a hold of yourself,” he yelled.
She tossed her head from side to side. “It’s the end. Monsters, demons, we’re all going to burn.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“The world is twisting.” Her gaze settled on me and didn’t waver. “And you’re to blame.”
Chapter 18
I HATED HOSPITALS. Yes, over the centuries, modern medicine had improved. Medication replaced herbal concoctions and leeching. Cleanliness prevented wound infection, and diagnostics actually became something more than just guessing, but underneath the sterility lay the scent of disease and death. Not the swift death gained by combat. Those deaths are pure and simple. This one lingered, hung on gasping breaths filled with suffering and fear.
Once, in the sixteenth century, I contracted malaria in Italy while tracking a demon. I had been new to hunting then, still filled with the rage of losing my family and being cursed. I didn’t stop to pay attention to the sickness that had spread through the town. I was a week away when the fever hit me.
For days, I lay under a tree, sweating and frozen at the same time. I fought for every breath and my chest ached at the labor. My arms and legs felt like boulders when I tried to lift them. What little food and water I consumed did not stay down. Eventually, I’d been found and taken to a local convent. The nuns cared for me, but could not cure me. After weeks of agony, I died. Every time I entered a hospital, I still smelled that room in the convent.
I tapped my foot and crossed my arms as I sat in the waiting room, trying to figure how anyone found taupe a comforting color. Esais was still with the doctors in the emergency room. A white bandage covered the twenty-three stitches that ran the length of my forearm. Grass stains along with my blood covered my dress, the lace ripped in several places. One strap dangled, broken. This was why I could never wear anything nice. I was doomed to an eternity of T-shirts and blue jeans.
The doors slid open, and Tres rushed over to me followed by Adrian at a more leisurely pace. Tres looked at my arm and scanned the rest of the waiting room while Adrian tossed clothes at me.
“Where’s Esais?” he asked.
I nodded to the double doors in the back. “Still getting stitches.”
“What did you do?” Adrian asked.
“We were attacked by the hellhound.”
“I see. Once again you let it get away, and Esais was hurt.”
I flung my arms out wide. “I would love to deal with it. Do you have any alchemical silver? Silver bullets blessed by a priest? I didn’t think so.”
“Stop,” Tres broke in. “Why didn’t you come get me?”
“The police called the ambulance.”
His right hand twitched. “I’m going to find this thing.”
“Once again, no silver.”
“I could make it hurt.” He clenched his right fist.
“Really?” I raised an eyebrow.
“Really what?” Esais asked from the doors of the emergency room.
Charlotte stood beside him. Her arms were wrapped around her shoulders as though she was trying to hold herself up. Deep shadows indented her red-rimmed eyes.
“How is Nancy?” I asked.
“They took her to the institution,” Charlotte said.
Esais cleared his throat. “I feel like coffee.”
“Let me change,” I said.
We rode in two cars to the diner Esais and I had met John at. Country music blared from a small radio on the counter. The ceiling fan spread the smell of grease and meat throughout the room. The waitress eyed my tangled hair and the smudges on my face that only a large amount of scalding water, soap, and scrubbing would remove. I met her gaze, daring her to say something. She cleared her throat and hurried away after taking our orders. I sat up straighter and crossed my arms with a small smile.
Charlotte played with her silverware as we waited for our drinks. She straightened the knife until it was perfect, then moved on to the fork. She barely met our gazes, instead focusing her attention on the table. The color faded around me as I scanned the diner, from the waitress and cook to the couple sitting in the back and laughing softly together. All human.
“It should be safe enough to talk,” I said.
Her shoulders stiffened as she lifted her head. Her eyes shifted to the left and the right before she took a deep breath and nodded. Adrian sat with his hands resting on his knees, studying her as if she was an interesting specimen. Did he actually see anyone as human?
“All right,” she said. “I’ve been thinking of our conversation a lot in the past couple of days. I know y’all know things aren’t right. Nancy thinks you’re responsible, but she didn’t see what happened before y’all got here. She doesn’t work at the institution.”
“When did the trouble start?” I asked.
Charlotte pushed the salt shaker against the wall so it was even with the pepper. “He used to be a good guy, until his son was diagnosed with some neurological disease six months ago. I really felt bad for him.”
“Who?” Tres asked.
“Dr. Navotny. He became obsessed with his new experimental drug.”
“So, the drug is his baby,” Adrian said.
Esais sighed. “All to save his son.”
Charlotte shook her head. “I don’t know. Patients are selected for an experimental run. I haven’t seen anyone return from the third floor.”
“Tell us more about this drug,” Adrian said. “Has it been approved by the government?”
“He’s restricted information on it and access to the third floor.” She took a deep breath and met her gaze with Esais's. “I’m scared Nancy is going to be used.”
“Won’t you have a say in that?” Tres asked.
“Because we’re related, they won’t let me treat her.”
“I’ll go in,” Esais said.
“What?” Tres said.
“Why?” Adrian asked. “She’s not really our concern.”
I looked between the three of them to Charlotte’s look of relief and hope. I knew where this was going, but why did it have to be Esais? He’d be behind barred windows surrounded by madness and open to any traps Ose laid. The amulet was already having difficulty fighting against the ambient madness that his gift had compounded.
“We need someone to see what is happening there,” Esais said.
“And how are you the best to do that?” Adrian asked.
“I’m the oldest.” Esais met his gaze. ”And because I can read minds.”
Adrian stiffened, his eyes narrowing.
“I can go instead,” I thought to them.
“No, you’re the best we have for handling the demons we’ve seen.”
“And if you run into Ose?” Tres asked.
“I’m only a thought away.”
Charlotte moved her head between the stare down. “I can keep an eye on him.”
“Do you have a better idea?” Esais asked.
“Even if I did, I doubt it would be followed.” Adrian stood and walked out of the café.
Esais watched him go and shook his head. He turned back to Charlotte. “I guess I will check myself in tomorrow.”
“Are the two of you riding with Charlotte?” I asked, and they nodded. ”Good, then I will catch a ride with your brother. Excuse me.”
Adrian had made it halfway down the block by the time I stepped out of the diner. I slipped off my broken heels and ran to catch up to him. He paused, watching me approach.
“I can push the issue,” I said. “Make sure I go instead.”
“Why do you care?” he asked.
“I don’t want to see anything happen to him, either.”
“He’s the best option we have with his—.” Adrian set his jaw. “—ability.”
“They still make you uncomfortable.”
“They’re unnatural.”
I bit my tongue. He barely tolerated the fact of his brothers’ emissary status and was still in denial of being one himself. “They’re still your brothers.”
“Are they?”
“You really need to reconnect with them.”
“What would you know?”
“I know someone blessed enough to have a family shouldn’t squander it.”
He stopped at the car and stared up at the moon. “Too many years have gone by. I doubt it will ever be the same.”
“How did you end up in prison?” I asked.
“You don’t know? I thought you knew everything about us.”
I bit my lip. “I seem like a stalker?”
“Suspicious. No one ever spoke of you.”
“Like I’m the dirty little secret.” I chuckled. “Well, your grandmother hated me. I’m not surprised she buried my name.”
“You have competition now.” He offered a bemused smile. The first bit of emotion I had seen in a while. “Arms dealing.”
I tried to imagine Adrian selling guns to street thugs. The images didn’t match. “Really?”
“I made the weapons.”
“Is that what you have shut yourself up in the garage doing?”
“Holy water grenades, actually,” he said. “You and I need to deal with these demons soon. I don’t want Esais staying longer than a few days.”
“What about Tres?”
“We can’t really rely on Tres.” Adrian shrugged. “I don’t think he even knows what he wants. He jumps from one extreme to another.”
“I’ll get to work on tracking down the hellhound.” I opened the passenger door and tapped my fingers on the roof. “It seems to be guarding the asylum. I think it spends most of the time in the forest between that and the carnival.”
“That’s a lot of ground to cover.”
“It should leave trace energies I’ll be able to see.”
We rode in silence as he came to terms with what needed to be done.
Chapter 19
TRES SLAMMED THE trunk of the car as I stepped out of the house. He ran a hand through his hair, mumbling to himself.
“Esais is all packed?” I asked.
“Ready to go to the funny farm.” Raw emotions rumbled beneath the control of his voice.
“You two seem close. Closer than Adrian,” I said.
“Yeah, after our parents died, Adam went off to hunt their killer, and Adrian was in America for school. Esais raised me.”
I didn’t say anything, just let him continue.
“Of course, Adrian ended up in prison for arms dealing, and well, Adam…” He took a deep breath. “Adam is the reason we’re here.”
“We won’t lose Esais, like Adam,” I told him.
He turned to me with his lip quivering. His gaze bored into mine. “Can you promise that?”
My heart raced as I remembered making a promise to protect the Van Helsing line to the best of my ability when Dimitri died. This proved difficult since Dracula had cursed the bloodline. I tried protecting Dimitri’s son, Alexander, but I found no way to break the curse, and he’d died at the hand of the vampire his grandfather defeated. After his death, I’d been told by his widow to stay out of her son Andrei’s life. She blamed me for her husband’s death, which I could understand. They’d only been married for two years. So I stayed away, though in my heart, I felt I’d betrayed my promise. In the end, Andrei and his oldest son Adam died not to the curse but to demons. Something I could have prevented. I wouldn’t fail again.
I stood up and took his hands in mine, rubbing my thumbs across his knuckles. “I promise to try my damndest to make sure all of you leave this town sound of mind and body.”
He laid his forehead on my shoulder and trembled. We stood in that position for some time. If this was the comfort he wanted, then I would give it to him. I couldn’t see Adrian as the type to give comfort to another. Poor child. He was born into a family that couldn’t allow for a normal life. For now, a promise to save his brother and a shoulder to lean on would have to be enough. He pulled away and straightened his shoulders with a deep breath.
“Thanks,” he said.
Esais and Adrian stepped out of the house. I stepped away from Tres and walked around to the passenger side. Esais walked to his youngest brother and squeezed his shoulder.
“I’ll be fine,” he said.
I twisted the hem of my shirt in my hands. The jet necklace remained intact despite the tiny cracks. So far, Esais’s mental fortitude had held up. We had to trust it would continue. The radio filled in for the words we didn’t have during the drive. We passed streets, nearly empty after the morning work rush. The carnival was closed, resting in preparation for the final weekend. The forest separated the carnival and the asylum. It was the perfect place for the hellhound to roam.
The yellow funnel had shrunk over the carnival, but the one over the asylum had grown. In the light, the building still looked like something from a gothic novel, but maybe I was biased. A new coat of paint had been applied to the bricks. Artful bushes lined the well-manicured lawn along the driveway. We passed an unmanned guard station and traveled up the driveway to visitor parking. One of the nurses at the greeting station took us on a tour of the facility, at least for the first and second floor.
“The third floor is for our more critical patients,” she said.
“That’s where Charlotte said the experiments are,” I thought to Esais.
He nodded to the door marked “fire escape” as the nurse led us outside. He already had a plan forming. Several patients were enjoying the morning sun with orderlies watching over them. I paused as we passed the fat man Marge had argued with at the fair. He sat on the bench, rocking back and forth and staring at nothing. His daughter clutched the hand of a tired looking woman a few feet away. The little girl’s lip trembled as she stared at her father. The yellow on the man’s aura blocked out other colors. I winced and moved on.
