DarkWalker (29 page)

A wolf leapt at Jack. He didn’t see it until too late, and crumpled under its weight. It was half man, not quite a werewolf but similar, foaming rabidly at the mouth. As they dropped, its claws ripped his skin, its jaw went for his throat, and Jack buried the silver knife in its gullet.

Then he saw Lisa.

She lay on the field, naked and shivering. The demons had been there a moment ago; now, a tendril of black smoke dissipating in front of Lisa.

He got to his feet as quickly as possible. Why was she here? Rats surrounded her, scampering in every direction; most, in fact, seemed to be headed toward Jack.

“Nick, get her out of here!” Jack cried.

Nick slashed his way through one of the dead men and appeared at Jack’s side. “What . . . ?”

“Get her home,” Jack said.

“Your other lover?”
Jia
Li asked, grinning. In a moment of quiet, the three of them stood in the center of the field, surrounded but not under attack. Corpses littered the field—the dead put back to death. The air was still. Above, clouds held back the next rains.

2.

“Find it, find it,” Lisa repeated to herself, using the demon’s last strengths while she still had them, while she still drew breath. His powers had plunged into the hole with him, no longer at his command, and would disappear with the last wisp of smoke.

She held the stupid things back. It took effort, and might have slowed her search, but it paused the battle. The demon had been powerful, and had controlled a dozen or more of those dead things himself without Lisa’s awareness.

She’d released the rats, glad to see them go.

She touched minds so dark, so icy, so abysmal, she cringed. She felt the mind of the vampire, the hunter, her lover. His was warm, attractive, and she easily could have stayed, basking in Jack’s love for her until the demon was completely gone. Things watched her. Hid her. Hid all of them. This had been a private, even protected, battlefield.

His power dwindled fast, her strength with them.

She had to find the imp, the teeth that had attacked her; that moment, her life—and Jack’s—had changed. Hers would never be the same, but his could at least return somewhat to normal. If she only found it amongst the dozens, hundreds of dark things she sensed.

She feared touching something that would not let go. Though she hoped such a hold would break when the portal closed, it might prevent her from succeeding. Many seemed unaware of her presence.
She
was unaware of her presence, not fully understanding what she did or how.

The smoke thinned. Her demonic power waned. She rocked back and forth, hugging her knees to her chest, closing her eyes and concentrating.

The demon was gone.

The acrid stench of its portal faded at last.

Lisa opened her eyes. In that final moment, she’d had it.

It was Nick, not Jack, who ran toward her.

3.

As Nick approached Lisa, he recognized that she wasn’t the same as she’d been. A moment later, she reverted; whatever was in her had been cleansed. She’d fought something he hadn’t even imagined. He saw it, there and then, the breadth of what she’d seen and done.

He slowed his run. None of the creatures chased him, though he’d expected one or two. They were so focused upon the watcher, they never moved to stop him.

“Let’s get you home,” he said, offering a hand to help her up. Unrecognizable fluids and jellies, black and brown and red, covered her. Some of the red still flowed. Her breathing was ragged and rough. He saw the knife.

She took his hand and met his eyes. “No.”

“What do you mean, no?” he asked. “You’re shaking.”

“Jack needs me.”

“He needs you alive,” Nick said. “I’m not sure anyone on this field will be alive come midnight.”

She shook her head as though it was too late. “I know where the imp is hiding.”

4.

A dead man grabbed Jack from behind. Another clung to his legs. He toppled over, twisting to land on one of them rather than his own face.

The putrid smell hurt his nose. Flesh sloughed off the dead men when they splashed into the mud. Keeping hold of the knife, Jack slashed the throat of one and stabbed the other in the leg. Both lost their grip on him, and Jack managed to get back to his feet.

Jia
Li surprised him. She was remarkable, never slowing, never complaining, hardly saying a word. Her fingernails were as sharp and strong as any knife Nick owned. She glanced at Jack once or twice, smiling or winking. She enjoyed the fight. Fierce and relentless, she hadn’t even broken a sweat.

He glanced toward Nick and Lisa. She was naked, dripping filth.

Distracted, he didn’t see something come at him from behind. It struck him hard enough to throw him forward and off his feet. He tumbled, rolling out of the circle that had formed around him.

By the time he got to his hands and knees to look back, the attacker was lost amid the other creatures. There were fewer dead men now; at least, they’d stopped sprouting from the ground. He scanned the pack of mythological beasts, but did not see the imp.

The creature turned toward him. Mindlessly. He was a light that they followed like moths.
Jia
Li smashed two of their heads together. Shards of bone crumbled to the ground; their dead eyes remained firmly fixed on Jack until they were gone.

Jia
Li, however, did not seem to see the ghoul. Shrouded in a dark cloak, only its skull visible, it drifted along the field. It touched a dead man as it moved, pushing it aside; the corpse dried instantly, then split and fell apart when another creature bumped it.

“Watch out!” Jack yelled.

Too late.
Jia
Li turned to find herself directly in the ghoul’s path. It reached for her with a bony hand.

Rather than flee, she kicked its skull. The bone cracked, but
Jia
Li fell back as if she’d just hit a brick wall. The ghoul passed over her, headed straight toward Jack.

Nick had given him a gun as well as a knife. Jack pulled it out now, though he had no faith in it, and fired. Twice. Three times. At least one shot put a hole in the ghoul’s fractured skull, but it continued undeterred.

Jack turned and ran. There was nothing else to do. How could he destroy a creature he couldn’t harm?

He didn’t have time to reach the Mustang. The dark surrounded him. Penetrated him. He felt the icy touch of the ghoul coming closer as he fumbled through ankle-high mud. He glanced over his shoulder—a mistake. The ghoul swiped at his face. He ducked, slid, and fell.

He turned over. The ghoul reached down and grasped his shoulder. Dryness spread and bore through his flesh to the bone. He tried to pull away, but could not. The skull showed no emotion. The moment, a fraction of a moment, ran as if in slow motion.

He didn’t understand how it ended.

The dryness hurt, but hadn’t gone any further than its initial touch. Then, without explanation, the ghoul pulled away. Smoke rose from the glowing sockets of its eyes and between its teeth. Flames danced on its robes. The fire burned bright and fast. The ghoul’s skull—nothing else—dropped to the ground.

Nick stood behind it holding out a lighter.

Jack stared at his weapon. “That?”

“I want a flame thrower,” Nick said.

“You went after it with that?”

“It worked.”

Jack climbed to his feet. “You’re crazy.”

“Thanks,” Nick said. “Nothing’s paying any attention to me. They want you. I figured I could get close enough.” He flicked the lighter.

“Where’s Lisa?”

“Getting in the truck,” Nick said. “She knows where your imp is.”

“How?” Jack asked.

“Does that matter?” Nick asked. “It’s at her apartment. Hiding in the basement.”

“Damn.” Jack paused. “How does she know?”

Nick shrugged. “She seems sure.”

Jack glanced at the truck. Lisa leaned against it, next to the passenger door, wrapped tightly in one of Nick’s jackets. She smiled weakly.

“Drive,” Jack said. He still couldn’t reach his Mustang, so he followed Nick to the truck. Lisa climbed in, closing the door.

Jack jumped into the pick-up’s bed. From there, he surveyed the field.

The dead things had swarmed on
Jia
Li (or she had swarmed on them). Nick jumped in and started it immediately. Jack crouched. He fired one shot at an advancing wolf. When Nick pulled the truck into the road, the dark spectators parted to let him pass.

Jack watched the field as they left.
Jia
Li could hold her own against whatever remained, but there was a definite shift of focus. Eyes, everywhere, turned away from the field. Things took to the air. Figures swirled.

One creature loped after the truck. It was mostly shadow, indistinct, half unreal. Jack missed with his first shot; the second hit its back leg. It yelped, slid, and tumbled.

It was getting up again when the truck turned onto another road.

5.

Beings and entities big, small, and enormous, drifted slowly away from the field. Some lingered. Some casually followed the truck. Winged things took to the air. Others simply vanished, with or without smoke. A few came together, spoke briefly and quietly, and decided to get a few beers.

From the shadows, not unseen but basically ignored, another watcher watched. He stepped out of those shadows. He approached one who remained, a stranger, something he couldn’t quite place. It was ghastly, its shell-like armor rigid and stained, its teeth crooked and splintered. It leaned, but not heavily, on a mahogany cane, and somehow managed to exude a regal air, as though once upon a time this thing was a prince or a pharaoh. The watcher approached warily, but cockily. An idea had come to his head. A thought, possibly a belief, so he wanted to test a theory.

“He’s stronger, now,” the watcher said, referring of course to Jack Harlow. The stranger with the staff regarded him in silence, but did not leave. “If he survives, he’s got something he didn’t have before.”

The stranger leaned forward and breathed a single word. Infused with a question, with pure but weak curiosity, and with a touch of impatience. “Yes?” Deep, the voice nearly rumbled. Unearthly, it vibrated through the watcher’s bones. Proper like a British accent, but clipped as if Russian.

A moment passed, the briefest of time spans, during which civilizations were birthed and devoured within the stranger’s gaze. The watcher steadied himself. He grinned. He knew what he was doing, or at least believed he knew. He said, “I deserve that strength.”

The stranger narrowed its eyes, looked closely at the watcher, and finally nodded in approval.

6.

The drive back to the apartment was mercifully short, but it didn’t feel that way to Jack Harlow. Shadows slid beneath and through the clouds, across rooftops, and around corners. Others came to windows, eyes aflame, shrouded in dark. Indeed, whatever dark atmosphere had covered the field followed them now. People on the streets did look, but only briefly, puzzled, as if they only thought they saw something.

He’d always felt comfortable in the dark. Safe. He’d grown to accept it. Now, there was Lisa, the possibility of real love, love that could overcome all obstacles. Tonight, however, the dark had turned against him. Certain aspects had stood aside, watching rather than actively participating, but Jack doubted their innocence.

Jia
Li hadn’t stayed out of it, but he didn’t need to see her again. She could return to her
vampiric
ways; either Jack would succeed, or he would die.

Nick pulled up onto the sidewalk in front of the apartment building. People across the street, sitting outside at the wine bar, stared, maybe made comments, but didn’t really respond. They didn’t really see through the shifting dark.

Lisa had no key, but Nick picked the lock faster than she could’ve opened it with a key.

The steps to Lisa’s fifth floor apartment came only as low as ground level, but another staircase around the corner went down. It was a metal door, with a slim window along its side. Nick grabbed it and twisted. “Locked,” he said, but it didn’t stop them.

Together, they descended the concrete steps to the basement.

7.

The basement was a single room under the entire building. Concrete floors and walls. Three windows on one wall, all near the ceiling. Free-standing shelves filled with gardening and janitorial equipment. Stacks of cardboard boxes. Huge bags of concrete mix. Scattered filing cabinets. Some desks. Furniture in piles. A few bare bulbs provided light in pools that broke the dark but failed to chase it away.

A second set of concrete steps led to an outside entrance.

Nick stopped at the bottom of the staircase, gun drawn. “I won’t let it out,” he whispered.

Jack nodded, drawing his own gun. He felt comfortable with this hunter’s tool. Jack’s previous attempt to hunt hadn’t worked. He was free of that now.

Though there were no other rooms, there were plenty of places to hide. No one had straightened out this storage area in some time.