by Luke Metcalf
Mitchell leaned back against the wall, watching the entire spectacle unfold before him. One man pushed an ugly, foul-smelling face into his. “You may as well try and kill him too,” he leered. “Because you won’t make it out of here alive.”
“Thank you for your concern,” Mitchell replied.
Sylvain cut through his attackers like a demonic acrobat, slashing and stabbing with pinpoint accuracy and blinding speed. Finding this too easy, he hurled both daggers into the chest of one particularly nasty-looking man and then proceeded to defend himself with his fists and feet alone, punching and kicking the rest to death, tearing out their throats with his steely fingers.
Mitchell was focused on searching the mind of a man who had left the mob and was making his way out of the building. He followed the man into the chaos of the streets. Because he was finely dressed some rioters tried to grab him, shouting “off with his noble head,” but he had no trouble defending himself. As he followed the man Mitchell noticed that many buildings were now on fire. He had seen in the man’s head a memory of a meeting with Baelaar, Squire Griffith, the Comtesse LeDuijou and a large group of vampires. He could see that Baelaar had indeed been very busy with turning and training new recruits, far busier than the Niveus Gladius realized. Mitchell increased his speed and came up close behind his prey, peering closely into the recent past. The next thing he saw made him gasp. This man, along with many others, had been instructed to hunt down Princess Katharina before she finds the Well.
The moment he turned into a deserted side street Mitchell grabbed the thug from behind and dragged him into a doorway.
“Where is your master?” Mitchell snarled, holding the terrified man against the wall by his throat, pressing the point of a dagger a millimeter away from his eye. “Where is Baelaar?”
“I, I don’t know.” The man choked and squirmed.
Inside the man’s mind Mitchell saw Baelaar and a large group of young vampire Initiates standing in a spacious hall with a small band of human mercenaries. Baelaar was hiring the mercenaries to act as spies throughout the city, all tasked with searching for Katharina.
“Why is he targeting the princess?”
“I, I don’t know, we were hired to be lookouts and to report to him immediately if she was sighted. I think it’s something to do with Russia, some place called the Vadas Asger.”
“Vadas Asger?”
“Yes, that’s all I know.”
Seeing nothing else of interest in the man’s memory, Mitchell drew his sword and sliced off his head. “I know,” he said to the body lying at his feet. “It is difficult to keep one’s head when all those around you are losing theirs.”
By the time Mitchell returned to the “party” the battle was over and bodies lay scattered on the floor and across the table. Sylvain was still bent over the neck of a mercenary, draining him of the last of his blood. He straightened up when he saw Mitchell, wiped his mouth and laughed.
“Now, that is what I call a party! Time for dessert! The banker’s wife gave me a wonderful idea.”
Sylvain’s terrified servants were dragging the bodies to an enormous bathtub made of solid gold, filling it with their blood.
“The servants are all murderers too,” Sylvain whispered to Mitchell. “They’re next.” He winked conspiratorially. “Come, follow me. In the next room I have a dozen of the most beautiful ladies in France just as I requested. The servants will be part of the feast but not the lovely ladies, no, they are for life and love and pleasure!”
Mitchell shook his head. “You are a depraved maniac.”
“Yes indeed! Isn’t it fun?”
“I do not share your tastes and I am afraid I must break with you. I need to concentrate my energies on searching for the Well of Many Worlds. We can part on friendly terms, but we will likely never see each other again.”
Sylvain cocked his head to one side, appearing hurt. “I am sorry to hear that. I would like you to know that I will be eternally grateful to you. You are the only man who has ever shown me any kindness in this world. Perhaps someday I will find a way to return the kindness that you have shown me. I swear, as an oath” – he held out his hand – “that if you ever need my help, I will do whatever I can for you. Thank you, Mitchell.”
Mitchell shook his hand and Sylvain embraced him with what seemed like genuine affection. A sudden roaring sound made them both turn around to see that one of the walls of the ballroom was ablaze from a stray torch hurled in from the street through a high window.
“Oh no!” Sylvain shouted. “I must save my beauties!”
“I bid you adieu, Sylvain.” Mitchell tipped his hat and bowed out of the ballroom.
Seven
Portland, Maine, 2020
Emily awoke from the same dream, moaning and gasping, soaked in sweat, her heart pounding. “Oh my god, why do I keep having this crazy dream?” she moaned. Yet at the same time she now looked forward to going to bed each night in hopes of seeing the mysterious young man that she was becoming more and more obsessed with. “If only I didn’t have to dream about that awful demon afterwards,” she muttered as she rolled out of bed. Once she was standing under the shower her mind slowly cleared and eventually turned to Chanel Boxer. Picturing Chanel’s smug, sneering face she remembered her promise to herself. It was time to get tough.
In the past she had always had an intense dislike of confrontation, but she believed it was essential to change if she was going to bring her father’s killers to justice. Her old life was over, destroyed. It was time to become a new person and start a new life. Before going after someone as truly dangerous as Cady Sunner, she felt it might be a good idea to sharpen her teeth on easier meat, someone like pretty, spiteful little Chanel.
She picked out a pair of tight-fitting jeans and a black tank top with a zippered jacket and then did her makeup keeping it simple but bold on the eyes. Sitting on the edge of her bed, she tied up her sneakers and chowed down a granola bar before heading off to school with a new swagger to her step.
She spotted Tom in the hallway and stopped for a moment to admire him. She thought that he looked extra gorgeous today. She then took a deep breath to calm the butterflies erupting in her stomach and walked up to him.
“Hey, you.” She moistened her lips and flicked back her hair.
“Oh, hey, Emily.” He seemed surprised to see her after she had so blatantly shot him down the previous day. “New jeans?” He gave her a cocky, sexy smirk that made her heart pound.
Emily blushed and laughed. “Uh, yeah.”
She moved close and looked up at him through her thickened lashes. “So… it turns out I’m free this weekend. Is the party still on?”
“Yeah. Sure.”
“I’d love to come. Why don’t you take my number?”
She could hear the whispers all around, passing from mouth to mouth down the long hallway like a line of falling dominoes, heading inevitably toward Chanel Boxer’s ears. She deliberately avoided catching anyone else’s eye, keeping her gaze fixed on Tom’s face.
“Sure. Hang on.” He pulled out his phone and started a new contact. They exchanged numbers and Tom flashed her one of his easy smiles. “Cool, I’m excited. It’ll be fun.”
“I look forward to it,” she said, walking away without a backward glance.
After only the slightest hesitation Tom ran after her. “Can I walk you to your next class?”
“Sure.”
Now she knew for certain she would be the top gossip fodder for the rest of the day. Chanel would not be able to ignore such a blatant assault on her status.
“So, you seem to be really into biology class,” Tom said, hands in his pockets, thick fringe hanging into his eyes. “You seem to know all the answers.”
“Well, I don’t know, I kind of like it, it’s interesting.”
“You’re kind of a dork but that’s cool, I like it.” He smirked at her again.
Emily burst out laughing. “Oh good, I’m glad, my dorkiness is one of
my best qualities.”
Tom chuckled, and then there was a brief silence.
“So,” she ventured. “It must be nice knowing exactly what you’re going to be doing with your life, being practically guaranteed to be a success.”
“What do you mean?”
“Everybody says you’re going to go number one in the NHL draft when you decide to enter. You’re going to be a big star and make millions, Tom. That must be a pretty good feeling.”
“It is,” he said. “It’s not that, it’s just… well, I love hockey. It’s the toughest, fastest game in the world, and you know, growing up in Canada, hockey is everything, and I’ve put so much hard work in, but – well, when I was growing up, every summer I’d take a couple weeks off and go camping and fishing. I mean, I was really into that. I took all sorts of wilderness survival courses.”
“Really? You? Wilderness survival stuff?” she laughed.
“Hey, don’t knock it ’til you try it.” He laughed too. “I could teach you enough in one afternoon to keep you alive for months if you ever got lost in the wilderness, any time of year, even if you were naked.” He smirked.
Emily felt herself blushing and her heart raced. “That would be awesome!” she laughed. “Useful information.”
“Yeah, I thought you’d be interested in that. You know, since you’re Miss Biology and all.” He bumped shoulders with her and she felt the butterflies take off again inside her.
“I’d definitely be interested.” Exactly what was she interested in more, she wondered. Being naked in the wilderness with Tom? Or making Chanel Boxer pissed off as hell? Or both? She wasn’t sure, but she was having fun finding out.
Tom was getting excited as he talked. “I thought if hockey didn’t work out that I would start my own business, take people for adventure trips, back to nature, eco-tourism stuff. But now between school and hockey, things are getting really busy and serious, and I haven’t done any of that stuff in so long. I really miss it, you know?”
She liked that he seemed to have plans that extended beyond hockey and that his attraction to her wasn’t just based on raging teenage hormones, that he felt they had a connection through similar interests.
“You could do both,” she suggested. “You could play hockey and make tens of millions of dollars as a famous athlete, and then retire and open your eco-tourism business. That wouldn’t be so bad.”
“Yup, that would be pretty sweet,” he laughed. “Thanks for the tip.”
“You’re welcome. I’m helpful that way.” She winked at him. Winked! She was beginning to like the new Emily.
He laughed to himself. “All right, so I’ll see you at my party.”
“Can’t wait.”
Emily strutted past the shocked faces that were now lining the corridor – even some of the passing teachers seemed surprised to see Tom talking to the quiet girl whose dad had just been murdered.
“Wilderness survival courses and an eco-tours business?” Bethany raised her eyebrows across the lunch table. “Interesting. He never told me about these secret passions. Wow, Tom Price, the hockey star, super stud and social god is a simple-hearted country boy.”
“I could definitely get into a guy like that,” Emily admitted.
“Uh, duh,” Bethany said in exaggerated tones. “Oh yeah, and the fact that he’s the hottest guy in school, a gentleman, and is going to be a rich, famous hockey star.”
Emily smiled awkwardly and looked at Bethany, who was now staring off into the distance. “Tom Price,” Bethany said softly, smiling to herself and Emily wasn’t sure she liked the look in her eye. It was as though Bethany had made the decision at that moment that she wanted Tom and Emily felt a little surge of jealousy welling up in her heart. She immediately hated herself for it.
“Any luck with the private investigator?” asked Chester.
“Yeah, did you hire one?” Bethany returned to the conversation as if nothing had passed between them.
“Yeah, I found Cady’s address. I drove by his house.”
“Was that a good idea?” Cindy looked doubtful. “That guy could be the murderer. What if he saw you and recognized you?”
“I know.” Emily frowned, playing with the straw in her box of juice. “It’s just… the police investigation isn’t going anywhere and I’m afraid it’s only a matter of time before they come after my mom and me.”
“Just let the private investigator do the work,” said Cindy. “Please, Emily, don’t put yourself in danger.”
“But that’s the problem. I already am in danger, and I only asked the investigator to find him, which he’s done already. Hiring him isn’t cheap and I’m broke.”
After dinner, Emily returned to Cady Sunner’s house, trying to ignore the inner voices that kept plaguing her. She pulled onto his block and then drove a short way down a side street. She parked up and sat staring back at the house, wondering how to proceed.
The house looked quiet enough, so she got out of the car, scanning around to make sure no one was watching her, and crossed the street. The windows at the front were closed, the drapes tightly drawn. She found the side gate and snuck into the backyard. From there she noticed a kitchen window was open, the sounds of the TV audible from outside. She crouched down and crept up to it, peering inside.
Only three feet away someone was sitting at the kitchen table cleaning a pistol while watching a talk show. When he turned to reach for a cleaning solution, she could clearly see that it was he – Cady Sunner. A feeling of physical revulsion gripped her stomach as she ducked back, then cautiously leaned forward and peered inside again. For a few moments she just watched him, frozen with a morbid fascination, as he polished his gun with meticulous care, caressing it as though it was a beautiful woman. What exactly, she wondered, was she hoping to accomplish by being here? Maybe, if she could just watch him for a while, she would gain some much-needed insight, which would incriminate him.
Having finally reassembled the weapon, he turned it around lovingly in his hand and smiled.
“There you go, sweetheart, all clean again.”
Emily remembered watching a crime drama with her dad where the police had nabbed the criminal by using a ballistics expert to prove that the bullets used to kill the victim had been fired from his gun. Looking at Cady now, Emily saw that he obviously cherished his gun, so he probably used it all the time. If it was the same one he had used to kill her father, then maybe she could get it to the police with his fingerprints all over it.
Cady got up and walked into another room, leaving the gun on the kitchen table and the television blaring music. It was now or never. Emily noticed a plastic bag lying on the ground. She picked it up then gently pushed the window further open so that the gap was wide enough for her to reach through. The hinge creaked so loudly she almost panicked and ran, but realized that no one inside the house would be able to hear such a small sound over the music. She had never been a great one for prayers, but she said one then.
Hearing no movement, she eased herself through the gap head first to her waist, her hand with the plastic bag reaching across to the table to pick up the gun. The plastic made a loud crackling sound, just as the music stopped and the audience applauded the act. She froze. They would be going back to talking in a moment and she could not afford to make another sound.
A loud knock at Cady’s front door made her heart leap. She heard Cady’s footsteps returning to the kitchen. Panicking, she pushed the gun back onto the table, ducked back out the window, crouched down and held her breath. Cady walked into the kitchen, picked up the gun and left again to answer the door. Emily’s heart pounded in her throat. Her brain struggled with two options – one, stay hidden and try to get the gun again once he had fallen asleep for the night, but that carried considerable risk of being caught, or two, get the hell out of there. She made a decision and was just about to creep away when she heard voices in the other room. People were moving around the house. She decided to stay put, at least for the time being
.
Cady was talking to another man who seemed to be growing more and more pissed off.
“You’re telling me you’ve found nothing at all?”
“N-no!” Sunner sounded like he was choking as he tried to reply. Was he being strangled?
“We’re getting very impatient!” shouted the other man.
“What about that other help you mentioned?” Sunner spluttered.
Emily wondered what kind of man could possibly bully someone as terrifying as Cady Sunner and cautiously peered inside.
“Ah yes.” The other man lowered his voice. Footsteps seemed to be coming closer to the kitchen doorway. Emily glimpsed through the open kitchen door a tall pasty-faced man with shoulder-length, jet-black hair at the far end of a small dining room.
“They’re scared.” He chuckled. “Apparently, our reputation precedes us. They have agreed to meet with me only in public, at some place called the Sanctuary, on the evening of October 31st.”
“Halloween night?”
“Yes. Fitting, don’t you think?”
“Well, with their help, it should be easy.”
Emily heard a sniffing noise. Through the slats she watched the pale man sniff the air, distracted by something. As he moved toward the kitchen she ducked down and held her breath, wishing she hadn’t sprayed any perfume on herself that morning. Her heart was pounding so loudly in her ears she was sure he would be able to hear it. There was a splintering crash, and a baseball-sized rock smashed through the dining room window, making both men jump back, shouting assorted expletives. They ran out the front door to confront whoever had thrown it.
“Damn kids!” Cady shouted.
Emily got down on her hands and knees and crept forward, waiting until she heard the front door slam before jumping up and running to her car.