21 Shades of Night, page 185
Focus, Gabby. Get up.
Ose stepped over me to walk to the raised stone coffin that stood in the center and slid the lid open. Oh, hell no. I jumped up and sprinted for the doorway. I made it to the threshold before he grabbed my hair and yanked me back. I tripped over the bars of the broken gate and sprawled out from under me so I was dragged by my hair. I imbedded my nails into his inner wrist, drawing a few drops of blood. I should have known that was a lost cause.
“I see you need time alone,” Ose said.
He slammed my head against the edge of the coffin. White light exploded in front of my eyes, and blood gushed from my nose. He tossed me into the coffin. I rolled onto my back, holding my face. Blood continued to flow from my face, down my cheeks, and drip onto the coffin. I swallowed back the bile that rose up and tried to life my head. The coffin spun so fast the mosaic looked like a spiral. Just like the violet smoke.
I lay my head back with a groan. The scraping of stone filled my ears. My breath caught in my throat. I had to get out now. I reached for the edge of the coffin, and Ose slammed his fist on my fingers. I yanked them back out of instinct. The gap and my freedom became just a mere sliver.
I pounded my fist against the top. “No.”
“You ripen here while I deal with the Van Helsings,” he said.
My light disappeared as the stone lid grated into place.
Chapter 42
I CLAWED AT the lid of the coffin while my shrieks bounced off the walls, filling my ears. The stone scratched my fingers and tore my nails. My head swam, and I lay back panting. This couldn’t be happening. Something splattered on my face. Was that dirt? I couldn’t be buried again. I was in a mausoleum above ground and not in a coffin, like before. One of my earlier mistakes had left my body to be discovered by locals. I’d awoken in a coffin with six feet and hundreds of pounds of dirt separating me from freedom. For months I had lain trapped, dying from lack of air over and over again. No one had searched for me, and no one would now. I would be here for months, even years.
I choked out another wail and pounded against the lid of the coffin. My voice dissipated into hoarse cries as my hands drops to my sides. The burning in my arm had faded to a dull throb that matched the one in my head. The air in the coffin thinned. I only had a few breaths left before my lungs would start screaming, and then there would be nothing but Naamah. My last visit had only been days ago. Who knew how many times I would see her during my imprisonment? I could resist her, but that time in the coffin had nearly broken me. Ose’s poison in my mind had weakened me. Between the two of them, I would fall, but to whom? The grit and stone underneath me faded away as I began to float. My hands felt twice the size of my head.
Light flickered in my eyelids, soft and yellow. The candles flickered and the curtains of my bed fluttered with the soft breeze coming from the staircase leading up. I lay in my burial chamber. Dimitri had it built for me so I wouldn’t have to go through another grave incident. After his death, I’d hadn’t return, but instead made arrangements with Jonathon Harker in case my body was discovered again. I stood and walked to the full-length mirror, shivering at the cold stone under my feet. Rubies and diamonds glittered from the silver and gold inlaid frame. I frowned. Since when had such opulence been added?
The neck of the black dress came to a V that connected at the waist, and the skirt brushed against the tops of my toes. I tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ears. A small scar marred my right cheek. Strange. I’d never had a scar there before. My deaths had always left me without any physical wounds. The mental ones were countless. I ran my finger across it. It cracked and widened under my touch, traveling down my jawline. Chips of my skin fell off with the tinkling of glass. Mauve flesh peeked out from underneath. I shrieked and backed away from the mirror, covering my face with my hands. My forehead itched, and more flesh fell away. This couldn’t be happening. I wouldn’t be like her.
“Gabby, you have to get a hold of yourself. This isn’t real.” Esais’s voice echoed through my head.
“Esais?” His name fell from my lips in a halting lilt.
I lowered my hands and caught my reflection again. My face had fallen away, supplanted by angular cheekbones covered with a pinkish hue. Black orbs replaced my once blue eyes. Two silver horns rose out of my forehead at the hair-line, curving inward. I wore Allegra’s face.
I screamed again and grabbed at the mirror. It toppled over and shattered on the ground. The lights winked out, and I returned to the darkness of my stone prison. What little air the remained stifled me. I slammed my fists against the lid repeatedly, ignoring the burst of agony from my wrist. A light appeared above my head.
“Will you stop that wailing? It’s damn annoying,” Marge said.
I gaped up at her, my eyes straining against the light she held. Someone had come for me. I wouldn’t lay here forgotten and alone. But I was a demon now, so it didn’t matter. I sat up with my head hung low, avoiding her gaze. Why hadn’t she yanked me from the coffin and proceeded to kick my ass yet?
“You’re too late,” I said. “You’ll have to kill me.”
“I would love to take you up on that offer just to shut you the hell up, but I just saved your ass.”
“I’ve become a demon. Look at me.”
She looked me up and down. “I don’t think you’d say that if you were a real demon.”
“It was a hallucination,” Esais said. ”Ose got to you again.”
I pressed my fingers to my forehead. Smooth skin greeted my touch. My breath came out in a long whoosh. I still felt dirty inside, but there were no horns and my skin remained pale. However, even if I was a demon, no one would be able to tell from the body. I hadn’t been forced to consume Menrazine, so I hadn’t changed that way. Either way, with my last bit of humanity I would see the Van Helsings safe and Ose dead.
I climbed out of the tomb and ran through the door. Ose’s treatment of me had taken its toll on the cemetery. Chunks of shattered gravestones lay strewn about the grass, but it was otherwise empty. A knot formed in my stomach. Adrian was gone.
“Ose has Adrian and Tres,” I said. “We need to move.”
“Are you all right to do this?” Esais asked.
Marge came outside. “Yeah, not seconds ago you were freaking out.”
I shivered, still feeling Ose’s touch brushing across my mind. He’d gotten inside of me. He knew my worst fears and how to play me like a puppet. But I couldn’t let him do what he did to me to Tres and Adrian.
“Can you help me when I get to the hospital?” I asked.
“I can try, but I don’t know how much I can do,” he said.
“Just enough to keep me going. We’ll see you soon.”
I walked to where Nancy’s body lay and closed her eyes. The police would eventually find her body and bring her home. I retrieved my sword from near the lake and sheathed it. Adrian’s talisman lay a few feet from the cars. Deep fissures covered the stone. It may be possibly be good for another direct attack but anything to keep me going. I slipped it over my head and exhaled as my mind cleared. No, I wasn’t a demon. I hadn’t died and gone to hell at all. I hadn’t been locked in the coffin for very long. I grabbed Adrian’s gun and tucked it in my waistband. He’d spent time creating it to use on Ose; it would be a pity if it was left behind.
“You should hurry. I’m sensing something strange. I’m sensing—” Esais’s voice and the choir vanished from my head.
“Esais?” I called.
No answer.
“We need to go,” I said.
“Just us storming the castle?” she asked.
I pulled out my phone and dialed John’s number. “I’m calling for a little back up.”
Chapter 43
JOHN STEPPED OUT of his car when Marge parked behind him. She pulled out her shotgun and strapped it to her back while I climbed out of her truck and walked to him. His brow furrowed as his gaze traveled from my face down to my dirty, torn clothing. He lingered on my arm, now bound to my chest in one of Marge’s shirts.
“What happened?” he asked.
“Ose has the Van Helsings,” I said. “We need to get them back.”
He raised an eyebrow. “We?”
I held his gaze. “Will you help me?”
“You actually want me to help you?”
“Is he going to be of any use?” Marge asked. “I already have your crazy ass to deal with.”
“I can handle myself.” John pulled out a few vials of liquid. “I have holy water and a good throwing arm.”
“Just don’t get in my way.” Marge turned and walked to the gate.
“Were you able to get anything to stop the hallucinations?” I said.
“Not enough time,” he said.
I touched John’s arm, and he tilted his head to me. I pulled the talisman from around my neck. I held it between us. John wasn’t used to this kind of thing, but I needed someone to free the Van Helsings while Marge and I dealt with Ose. My throat tightened at the thought of Ose’s hands on John. No, that wouldn’t happen. I pressed the cool jet into his hand. Better me than him.
“It should help against the madness effect,” I said.
He frowned. “I think you need it more than me. I’ll be fine.”
“No, take it. We can’t all be crazy.”
“I won’t go crazy. Besides, there is Marge.”
I snorted, a smile coming to my lips. The image of Marge as a pillar of support was absurd. I slipped the cord around my neck as John reached in his car and pulled out a flashlight and a handgun, which he stuck in a holster at his waist. He let a long breath and gave me a thumb up. I kept my smile, despite the twisting in my stomach. He did have a strong will; perhaps it would be enough.
“Ready?” I asked, and he nodded.
“Gate’s closed,” Marge said when we joined her. “We’ll have to go over the wall again.”
“You’d think this place would have more security,” John said.
Marge smirked “They probably think all they need in this small town is the gate.”
I walked along the wall to the corner and to the tree we’d used during our first visit. I chewed on the inside of my cheek as I stared up at its height. There weren’t enough grips to scale in one-handed. John rested his palm on my shoulder.
“I got you,” he said.
I raised an eyebrow. “And how do you propose that?”
“Marge, go first.” He waved her in front of us before turning back to me. “If I carry you on my back, do you think you can keep a grip with one arm?”
Marge snorted, walked past us, and began her climb.
“Maybe,” I said. “But are you sure you can carry me?”
He grinned. “I think I can manage.”
He hoisted me onto his back. I pressed my knees into his sides and wrapped my good arm around his neck with my fingers digging into the tender part between his collarbone and shoulder. He grunted and began his assent. John was a lot stronger than I had believed. After a few moments, and a couple of slips, he helped me get my footing on one of the stronger branches that ran close to the wall. Marge smirked back at us from her perch and hopped over into the yard of the asylum.
“I’ll go next,” I said.
I darted along the branch, leaped, and landed on the top of the wall with a soft thump. I stepped over and braced myself for the impact. The force jarred my legs and jolted to my arm. My fingers dug into the grass as my head swam. I gritted my teeth to and breathed out through my nose. I could do this. There were miles to go and monsters to fight before I could rest.
After my arm had settled back to its dull throbbing, I scanned the yard and whistled. John came over and rolled a few feet. He came up panting and rubbed his left shoulder.
Marge nodded to the asylum. “No lights.”
“They should at least have the flood lights in the yard,” I said.
She shrugged. “Makes it easier for us.”
I shook my head. “Or it means something is wrong.”
She trudged up the hill. I motioned John to go ahead of me. I didn’t want any nasty surprises sneaking up behind him. The windows in the doors had been broken. Glass lay strewn across the porch and the sidewalk. Marge bent down and peered in the dark hallway.
“I can’t see anything in there,” she said.
She pulled a flashlight from her belt and attached it to a plastic clip on her shotgun. She reached through the window to open the door. It swung inward. With her gun raised, she strode inside. I grabbed John’s arm when he started to follow her and shook my head. If she ran into anything, I didn’t want John in the middle of it.
She whistled. All clear. I gave him a nod and a gentle push forward. The welcome station at the front was empty except for a pair of legs stretched out from behind it. I moved around the desk. The orderly’s head was twisted around backwards, and parts of his skull were crushed in.
“They’ve gotten lose,” I said.
“Who has?” John asked.
“Ose’s experiments. Whatever did this is very powerful.”
“It couldn’t be Ose?”
I shook my head. “He’s strong, but not like this.”
“I’ll take point again,” Marge said.
She kept her shotgun trained down the hall as she crept along. The thin beam of light from John’s flashlight played over the floor and the ceiling. The tables of the visitors’ area had been smashed. Splinters and plastic cushion covers were strewn about the floor. A nurse’s body lay sprawled against the wall with one shoe hanging off of her foot. Marge checked for a pulse and shook her head.
“Let’s keep going,” I said. “Esais’s room is on the second floor.”
“Stairs?” Marge asked.
“Would be best,” I said.
I tightened my grip on my sword, my heart pounding in my chest. Both Malantha and the alastor were destroyed. I’d killed the boy my last trip here. Still, how many of Ose’s experiments roamed the halls? How many doors had been bolted on that floor?
Marge stopped again when we were ten feet away from the emergency stairs. Fragments of the door littered the hallway and the frame itself was missing pieces. Something had burst through. Marge moved the barrel of her gun, allowing the light to pass over the stairwell.
“We’re clear,” she said. “Ready?”
Goose pimples ran over my skin. The darkened portal yawned open before us. If the creature came up behind us, we would be trapped in that tiny hallway like a tomb. I took a slow breath to keep my throat from closing up. There were other doors we could get out of. Besides, I couldn’t let my claustrophobia get in the way of helping the brothers.
“Ready,” I said, and John nodded.
I led the way up the steps with Marge taking the rear. The remains of this door dangled from the hinges while several large sections lay on the steps. Whatever this demon was, it didn’t like doors.
Muffled shrieks echoed through the hall. At least one person was alive up here. I doubted it was any of the Van Helsings. They would shriek like that. I peered in both directions in the hall, keeping my back against the side of the doorframe. No signs of movement. Esais’s room was several doors down. I tapped against the door frame with my sword to motion for Marge and John.
The door to Esais’s room remained intact. I let out a breath I’d been holding and moved into the room. The mattress lay half on the floor with the back end still on the bed. The two armchairs lay overturned.
“Looks like he put up a fight,” John said.
“He’s a Van Helsing,” I said. “But I doubt it was with whatever is roaming the halls now.”
“What now?” Marge asked.
A scream from the hall answered her. I pushed John to the back of the room and grabbed his flashlight. I moved behind Marge, where she stood in the doorway. Charlotte ran down the hallway at full tilt. A hulking shape closed in on her at a speed that belayed its size.
“Looks like you get your first bit of action for the night,” I said to Marge as I stepped into the hall.
Chapter 44
MARGE SHONE HER light in the creature’s face. It recoiled, rearing up until its head bounced against the ceiling tiles, and held its arm in front of its face. It glared down at me with beady eyes almost hidden by puffy cheeks and roared at us. Its hot breath ruffled my hair, and I gagged at the stench of rancid meat. I stepped in front of Charlotte and backed her into Esais’s room. The hallway narrowed, and the creature took on an almost slow motion. All my aches faded to the rushing of blood in my veins.
“Stay there,” I told her. “John, give us more light.”
Marge’s shotgun boomed, and the wall shook. I stood in front of her. The shots didn’t keep it from coming at us. “What the fuck is that?”
“An abomination,” I said.
“Can I kill it?”
“Only if I don’t first.”
With another roar, the creature charged us. Its muscles bulged in its arms twice the size of my waist as it used them to balance the gait of its stunted legs. It raised its fist to smash me into the doorway. I dodged under its arm and slashed the tendons. The demon faltered as its appendage constricted. It grabbed me with its other hand and tossed me. My right shoulder slammed into the wall before my head did. A star exploded into a supernova in front of my eyes, and I fell to the ground with a moan. I sat up and blinked, trying to clear the double vision in my eyes.
Marge fired her shotgun and caught the demon in its lower jaw and neck. Blood exploded out the back of its head. It staggered before it righted itself. Its eyes, now glowing bright red, focused on Marge. If the thing still had a mouth, it would probably be screaming at this point. Marge gaped at it.
“What the hell?” she sputtered. “That was iron shot.”
“Demons don’t need the human to be alive to use the body.” I pulled myself up with my good arm and ignored the screaming in the other one. “It’s bonded with the human’s soul. It has to be using it as some kind of shield.”
