Dead Men Walking

by Raquel Lyon

  Connor stared at his empty arms. He hadn’t even been given the chance to say goodbye. “You could have warned me.”

  “Aw... Did you grow fond of the mutt?”

  “Hard not to, considering the situation,” Connor said as they got to their feet.

  “Talking of which...” Cheyrah brushed the dirt from his sleeves. “You captured a famous renegade. The Big Man is impressed. He sent me with an offer.”

  “Not interested.”

  “But you haven’t heard it yet.”

  “Okay. I’m listening. What offer?”

  “Work for him. He could use a smart man like you on the team.”

  “Tell him thanks but no thanks.”

  “Are you sure you want me to do that? It can be a pretty lucrative gig.”

  “I just want my life back, as per our original agreement.”

  “A penthouse apartment comes as standard,” Cheyrah added, clearly hoping to seal the deal.

  “I’m exactly where I want to be.”

  “Well, all right, then. If you’re sure I can’t persuade you. But you don’t know what you’re missing.” He tapped his pen on the clipboard. “Sign here.”

  Connor took the pen and noted with brief surprise that it was actually a desiccated finger with its nail filed to a point. He signed quickly and handed it back. “What happens now?”

  “I go back and file the paperwork.”

  “And me?”

  “Why, you stay here. Of course.”

  “Does it take long?”

  “Does what take long?”

  “Well... I don’t feel anything.”

  “What were you expecting?”

  “I dunno. A rush of energy, a blinding flash, and whoosh, my memories are back. Something.”

  Cheyrah flipped the papers of the contract. “Nothing here about the return of memories,” he said, shaking his head.

  “What?” Connor snatched the board and searched the pages. “The double-crossing son of a...”

  Cheyrah clicked his tongue. “You want special requests, you gotta specify them at the time.” He tucked the board back in his bag and pulled out a wallet. “I believe this is yours.”

  Connor accepted it, flipped it open, and then snapped it shut again. “That’s it? That’s all I get?”

  “Most don’t even get that.”

  “You can’t just leave me here.”

  “I think you’ll find I can.” The light reappeared, and Connor threw his arm over his eyes. “Should have taken the offer,” he heard Cheyrah say as the hillside darkened.

  Chapter Sixteen

  PIPER THREW HERSELF onto her bed, happy to be back within the quiet of the Towers’ walls. Lambert unloaded the shopping bags and lay down beside her.

  “A very interesting morning,” he said, placing his hands behind his head.

  “Exhausting. If I’m ever about to cave in to one of Beth’s requests again, please feel free to stop me.”

  “Yes. I admit, watching a woman enthuse over mere pieces of cloth was fascinating, but—”

  “I mean, look at this dress—although I’m not sure it’s worthy of the term.” She pulled a bundle of black from a nearby bag. “It’s more of a slip, really. How could she possibly think it would suit me?”

  “I would very much like to see you wearing such a garment.”

  “Oh, you would, would you?” Piper turned away from the sparkle in his eyes that had no business being there and began stuffing the dress back into the bag. “Well then, I’m sorry to disappoint. The day I put this on again will be the day you wear that shirt and pantsuit you looked so uncomfortable in.”

  “You have a deal. Tonight. At dinner.”

  She reeled around. “You are joking?”

  “Not at all.”

  “This might be the kind of fancy house to dress for dinner, but it’s not as if anybody does.”

  “Then tonight will be the exception.”

  “Absolutely not.”

  Lambert rolled onto his side and leaned on his elbow, sporting a devilish grin. “I have never thought you to be the sort of girl to renege on a challenge.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Then we have an accord. I shall look forward to it. Now... returning to my original statement.”

  Piper pushed the bags to the floor and lay down, more inclined to sleep than to argue. She realised her mistake almost immediately when he shifted his leg absent-mindedly and it came to a stop resting against hers. She looked up at him in two minds whether to move it or not, but he appeared not to have noticed their unexpected intimacy, so she left it there and tried to keep her voice steady. “Which one?” she said.

  “When I mentioned an interesting morning, it was not the shopping to which I referred.”

  “You meant the freaky bar full of vampires.”

  “That in itself was indeed a first for me, but I was talking of Connor Lovell’s likeness on that mini picture box.”

  “It’s called a mobile phone, and I guess I wasn’t the only one looking over Beth’s shoulder.”

  “Did you notice the hound at his feet?”

  Piper tried to recall the image but was finding the feel of Lambert’s leg far too distracting, and a small shake of her head was all she could manage.

  “It stirred memories, vague ones from my childhood studies. Do you have enough energy left for a research trip?”

  “Where to?”

  “Not far. A couple of flights of stairs and a short corridor.”

  She grabbed a handful of pillow and threw it at him. “Why didn’t you just say the library?”

  *****

  Piper glanced up at the ceiling as they entered the library, hoping that Grandpa Jo wouldn’t choose that particular moment to return. He probably wouldn’t be too hospitable if he’d found out she’d been eavesdropping on his personal conversation, and How to Handle an Angry Ghost had yet to be included on her training schedule. Thankfully, all she saw was the grey of the sky through the glass dome and the rain sliding down its panels.

  “What are we looking for?” she asked Lambert, who was already disappearing between two stacks.

  “In the Sixth, the word would be mallica—demonic familiars, which only the dead who have risen possess.”

  “Witches rise from the dead?”

  “The truly dark and wicked ones, sometimes, yes. They cast curses on themselves to ensure their return. It takes a very specific entrapment hex to bind them back to the earth.”

  “What has that to do with Connor? He wasn’t a witch,” Piper said, following his voice.

  “No, but it is plausible that a similar circumstance prevails in the Third.”

  “You think Connor has come back evil?”

  “It would explain why he has not returned home, but whether the idea has merit is what we are here to discover.”

  Piper glanced fleetingly at the various shelves as she walked around in circles. She couldn’t remember seeing the word mallica on any of the spines, and trying to find it now was like searching for a four-leaf clover on a football pitch.

  “This is impossible,” she shouted, with no clue as to where Lambert had got to. “We could be here all day.”

  “I thought you enjoyed a challenge?” His voice was close.

  “A challenge, yes. Wasting my time, no.”

  His head appeared around the end of the aisle, and she jumped with surprise. “Where is your sense of adventure?” he said, a grin lighting up his eyes.

  “I left it about five rows back.”

  “Then it is fortuitous that I found these.” He stepped fully into the aisle and pulled his hand from behind his back. It guided a pile of books, which he proceeded to float over to the reading table. “We have much to get through, and you are going to require plenty of time to do that dress justice later.” Piper narrowed her eyes at his back as he passed her. “Choose one, and let us start,” he said, sitting down.

  Lambert had selected four books in total. He lined them up as Piper
read the titles: Monsters of the Dark: Fact Not Fiction, Not so Legendary Creatures, The Valley of the Fallen and Other Journeys to the Afterlife, and a rather weighty-looking tome entitled A Digest of Eschatology. Deciding to give that one a miss, she slid Not so Legendary Creatures towards her, presuming the slightly frayed cloth binding enclosed the least scary content.

  She wasn’t sure how long she’d been sitting there, with only the rustle of turning pages to break the silence, but in the fading light, the type had started to blend into the page, making it harder to read the long words that held no meaning or interest for her. She’d just flicked a flame from her thumb to ease her squinting when Lambert made her jump again.

  “This dimension has an unusual version of the afterlife,” he said. “Our depiction of the Thirteenth differs somewhat.”

  “The Thirteenth?”

  “You would call it Hell.”

  “Ah.”

  “This is interesting, though.” He turned The Valley of the Fallen and Other Journeys to the Afterlife around for her to read. “See where it talks about an entry assessment? It speaks of a whole range of outcomes, but look at this one here: alliges reditum.” He stabbed the page with his finger.

  “Do I have to read it, or are you going to save me the trouble and tell me what’s got you so excited?”

  *****

  Piper slipped her feet into the ridiculously high heels Beth had insisted went perfectly with the dress and surveyed her past hour’s work in the wardrobe mirror, wondering if all the effort had been worth it. It wasn’t something she’d be doing again in a hurry, and if Lambert had played a joke on her, he’d better get ready to eat fire.

  She angled her head at the girl in the mirror. It wasn’t her. She’d never worn so much black in her life, and now she knew why. It made her hair look a shade or two lighter and her skin paler, almost pasty behind the brand-new make-up she’d had to apply three times before vanquishing the clown look. She looked as if she were about to attend a fancy funeral. Although, on second thought, the shoes did lengthen her legs and give shape to her calves. It was a shame she probably wouldn’t make it down two flights of stairs before tripping over and breaking her neck.

  When the dinner gong sounded, she decided to lessen the risk by removing her shoes for the first flight and managed to make it to the bottom of the second without incident, but she’d been so busy concentrating on her feet, she hadn’t noticed she was being watched. When her feet touched base in the entrance hall, she looked up and froze. The room closed in and her stomach pulled tight. Lambert was leaning against the hallway table, looking far from uncomfortable.

  His charcoal-grey suit gave him a strong and confident air, and her eyes were drawn to where his legs crossed, causing his thighs to strain against the fabric. She blinked away a thought and forced her gaze upward to his usually mussy hair, now tamed and slicked back, apart from one small curl which had escaped and hugged his temple. He was watching her intently with an amused smirk playing on his face.

  It took a minute to find her voice. “I half-expected you to wimp out,” she said, and as soon as the words left her mouth, she could tell from his expression he was about to ask what she meant. “Go back on our agreement,” she added.

  “And allow you the satisfaction of winning? I think not.”

  “Well, you haven’t won.”

  “Oh, I would not go so far as to say that. At the very least, I am able to walk in this overly shiny footwear.” He stuck out his foot and wiggled it.

  Piper swallowed hard and squared her shoulders as she stepped forward confidently, then wobbled again.

  Lambert chuckled.

  “Don’t you dare laugh at me. I’d like to see you try to walk in these.”

  He cocked a brow and appraised her feet. “I do not believe they are my size.”

  The aroma of citrus and freshly cut wood carried on the air as his head rose again and his gaze travelled over her face. He nodded his approval. “You look pretty.”

  Piper’s heart ached as she smiled her thanks. She’d expected the first time she heard those words from a boy would be on a date, not during a family meal with her brother. He was going to make some lucky girl very happy, but this had been a very bad idea. Each time she saw him, he stoked her fire in entirely the wrong way, and seeing him like this had thrown a huge log onto it.

  He offered her his arm. “Shall we?”

  Chapter Seventeen

  PIPER FOUND THE RANGE of expressions on everyone’s faces quite amusing when Lambert and she arrived in the dining room, but her enjoyment soon changed to irritation after enduring Todd’s endless jibes about failing to get his invite to the fancy-dress party. She was almost grateful when he left early to meet his latest date for the evening.

  Having arrived back at the Towers sooner than expected, Sam had joined them as they retired to the lounge. He’d brought what he thought was bad news. Connor wasn’t on Pete’s list—a fact that came as no surprise to Piper and Lambert, who’d flashed each other a knowing look—and his demonic blood meant no soul from above would be able to take possession of his body.

  “Which shortens the list of possible outcomes greatly,” Sam said, choosing a seat next to Sophie on the sofa.

  Piper had to wonder whether it was a conscious decision on his part, to allow him to lessen the effect of his remarks on her. Sophie had looked tired all the way through the meal. Her skin was paler than when Piper and she had first met, and even her freckles had faded, accentuating the dark circles under her eyes. Now with Sam adding another layer to her tribulations, her face appeared positively drained.

  “Are you saying that Connor went to... Hell?” Sophie asked.

  “Pretty standard for a werewolf, but let’s not jump to conclusions. There’s still the absence of his remains.”

  Beth cleared her throat. “Well, if I’d have been able to contact you, sweetie, I could have let you know that he’s here.”

  Sam’s brow knotted. “Who? Connor?”

  “Yes. Look.” Beth threw him her phone. He caught it and stared at the screen as Sophie leaned in to view it, too. Piper gave Beth a quizzical look. “I sent it to myself,” she explained quietly.

  Sophie let out an audible gasp. “Where did you get this?”

  “I stole it. It was taken yesterday.”

  “I don’t believe we’ve just sat through a whole meal, and in all that time, you were keeping something this important in your pocket,” Sophie said.

  “I was going to show you. I was waiting for the right moment.”

  “I thought we agreed you weren’t going to keep secrets from me again? Whatever’s going on, I want to know.”

  “Um... Can I say something?” Piper said before their conversation could develop into a full-blown argument.

  Sam looked up at her through his lashes.

  “Lambert and I came across something today. Have you heard of alliges reditum?”

  “A deal with the Devil? Of course,” Sam said, looking back to the photo. “You know what? You might be on to something. Here, babe.” He attempted to pass the phone back to Beth, but Sophie snatched it from his hand. “Excuse me a moment,” he said to the room as he rose to leave.

  Sophie’s eyes refused to part from Connor’s image, as if she’d been starved of the sight of him for too long. “This can’t be real. It’s just someone who looks like him, that’s all.”

  “Not according to Simone,” Beth said.

  Hearing the name, Sophie looked up. “Simone? From uni? But she’s dead.”

  “Yes, and still as annoying as ever. I guess you can’t keep a good bitch down.”

  “Okay.” Sophie let out a breath. “Who’s going to explain this time?”

  Piper took the reins and did the best she could with what little information she had, but naturally, Sophie had questions that she couldn’t answer. She was grateful when Sam returned a short while later.

  “It appears there may be some substance to your findings, Piper. Accordi
ng to my boss, evidence has been found of Gleaner activity in the area: yesterday in Carleigh, and today in Hoglington.”

  “Hoglington? But that’s only a couple of miles away,” Piper said.

  “What kind of evidence?” Beth asked.

  “The only kind there is. You know what a Gleaner is, right?”

  “I’ve heard of them. A kind of reaper for demons, yes?”

  “That’s about the size of it. Anyway, Gleaners are not like normal killers. They are able to approach their victims undetected. Anyone who meets with them along the way immediately forgets, so witnesses are unheard of. And as for the victim’s remains, well, only a trained eye would spot them as anything more than dirt.”

  “Then how are the attacks detected?”

  “Hunches, mainly. For instance, in Carleigh, a young woman reported a missing person. She was... How can I put this nicely? A working girl. She remembered taking a client back to her apartment, and she remembered leaving him in it. But as she walked away, she questioned why she would do that, and returned to find he’d disappeared. She claims he could not have left without passing her. The police wrote off the case, but our man at the station flagged it and sent it on.”

  “And then?”

  “A couple of OD13 officers discovered demonic residue on the carpet in her apartment.”

  “What about Hoglington?”

  “Suspected break-in at the old watermill. A delivery driver went to drop off his package and found the place deserted and smashed up. Our man tagged along on the call-out and discovered some interesting pieces of evidence.”

  Beth leaned forward eagerly. “Such as...?”

  “A severed Manopus tongue, along with claw marks in the woodwork.”

  “Werewolf claw marks?”

  Sam nodded. “Looks like it. Which points to there being a bit of a struggle before it was over.”

  “Um,” Piper cut in, “didn’t you mention Ned Tuckman was a Manopus?”

  “Well remembered. And as it turns out, a DNA test of the tongue proves it was indeed our mysterious missing potter who had a secret identity as a member of the Damned.”