“Ashley!”
I looked pointedly away, at the rapidly closing figure of Aine, sprinting at full speed across the graveyard.
When I glanced back, he was gone.
Only a faint spark of static and liquid shadows marked his departure as my Sanguinarian contact arrived—and promptly shoved me.
“The hell happened? Where did he go?” She shoved me again, rocking me ever so slightly on my feet. “I got a fuckin’ emergency text…” She cut off, looking around at the strewn bodies, and hissed angrily.
I pointed with a tombstone. “You might should see to your…person.”
Aine’s eyes settled on her fallen comrade and she moved to the broken vampire’s side—just as the young vampire’s eyes reverted to globs of blood. Baring her fangs, the girl lunged weakly at Aine—
—who ignored her feeble attempts to feed and easily pushed the smaller Sanguinarian back down, weaving a spell with the dancing tips of suddenly visible blood-claws, the injured vampire’s movements subsiding as a degree of sanity returned to her gaze.
Then, stunned, I watched as Aine tore open her arm, dripping a few bulbous glops of cloying Sanguinarian blood directly into the girl’s mouth.
I’d never seen one Sanguinarian help another before. Especially not like this.
“There, dammit.” She rose, rubbing her unbloodied arm as the gash disappeared. “That’s one, anyway.”
Before my eyes, the fallen vampire’s legs straightened out as she drew on the borrowed blood, shattered bones setting themselves back into place. It stopped before she could mend her shredded arm though, and the battered Sanguinarian gasped in pain, her eyes finally showing the first stages of shock.
I couldn’t help but stare. She was so young.
“No thanks to you, o’ course.” The ice in Aine’s words caught me off guard.
I turned to fully face her as she turned, eyeing me. “I stopped him,” I replied defensively.
“Yeah, ‘e looks real stopped.” Hands on hips, she looked pointedly around, as if to indicate the lack of the aggressor’s body among the fallen. “You gonna go after ‘im, at least?”
“No.” The ground thumped with the weight of two fallen tombstones. “I’m not.”
“That’s what I thought.” With another angry hiss, she paced back and forth, her claw-tips tapping along the arc of her hips in irritation. “You know, I’m gettin’ awful tired of you standin’ over a pile of my dead people.” She made a face. “I mean, the ones I don’t like, fine. Go for it.” She pointed a toe toward the sole survivor. “But I take fucking exception to this shit.”
The Sanguinarian at our feet made a faint noise as she passed out, drawing my eyes again. She had to be what, fourteen? Maybe younger?
“I’ll take care of it,” I replied, meeting Aine’s bloody gaze. I have to.
“Like you did this time?” She stared up at me. “You do realize it’s my people he’s hunting? Specifically? This ain’t no fuckin’ coincidence.”
I could only nod. It did look like he was targeting Aine’s people in particular, and while I could hardly call her Sanguinarians innocent…I couldn’t honestly apply that label to the other Strigoi, either.
Or to myself.
Any way out of this, people were going to die. People that didn’t really deserve it.
And I got to pick which ones.
“You also realize ’e’s dismantling my operation? Making it that much ‘arder to pry open this whole vampire circlejerk alliance bullshit?”
“I said I’ll take care of it,” I reiterated, my voice as hard and brittle as the broken gravestones.
It wasn’t like I had a choice.
13
Garden party
“We have to go, now.” I rumbled, taking Tamara’s wrist and dragging her into the deeper shadows of the nearest alley.
“Why? What’s wrong?” She was understandably alarmed as I pulled her along and we quickly left the flickering Pancake Hut neons behind.
In response, I handed her my phone.
I’ve got Fright, Kitty’s simple message said. But I don’t know for how long. Hilltop Gardens. Come quick.
“What? How?” Tamara actually stuttered, notes of fear already etching their way into her voice. “She can’t handle something like him. We have to help her.”
“I know,” I replied, sweeping Tamara off of her feet and into my arms. “So let’s get going.”
o o o
This time, the siren song didn’t lure us onward. Instead, it chilled the air, high and mournful and foreboding, like the final dirge for a fallen hero. We made our way through the pine trees, across wooden walkways and needle-strewn dirt paths, the melody haunting every step, each note lingering and clutching at us like an insistent specter. Even the air had gone still, as if it too were listening.
Tamara’s steps slowed as we climbed the steps to the Hilltop Garden, finally freezing up with only a curtain of flower-dripping shrubbery between us and our target.
“I…I can’t,” she whispered, her breath frosty and her voice trembling. Tamara’s eyes were fixed on the sight in the clearing ahead of us where Kitty and Fright sat on the old, cold marble benches, his corpse-lantern eyes large and rapt as he listened to her serenade him. “I…I’m trying…but I just can’t.”
I stepped in front of her, breaking line of sight as her body began to shake with repressed terror, and wrapped my ragged cardigan around her shoulders.
“It’s okay,” I rasped in a whisper. “You don’t have to get closer, okay? Just hide here.” I glanced over my shoulder. “I’ll take care of it.” My heart caught in my throat a little as she nodded, her dull sapphire eyes wet and about as grateful as I’d ever seen them.
I settled Tamara safely behind a tree and turned back as the last, sepulchral notes of Kitty’s mournful elegy faded into the night sky. I made certain to pull the darkness tight around me before leaving the soft shadows of the foliage, though Fright seemed docile enough…for now, anyway.
And the more we knew about what was going on, the better.
“Okay. Your turn again.” Kitty smiled over at the scary little Fae and cleared her throat, though the icy, ethereal overtones in her voice lingered. “You said I’m not your first friend in town. But you haven’t been in our Home for very long. Isn’t it hard to meet new people?”
He blinked, slowly, like two pale lanterns flicking off and back on. “It is still strange that you should name it such. To us, our world is Home, and yours is Next Door.” He tilted his head like a curious bird and grinned, showing too many teeth, then leaned in towards her. “One day, you should see it in person. Our Home.”
Kitty took a breath. “Maybe…maybe one day.”
“And friends…I have some. A few. But only one here. Other…other than you.” He tapped the tips of his onyx claws together for a moment, then stopped and purposefully folded his hands in his lap. Was he fidgeting? Nervously? “It is not simple for me. Not in this place. I have to hold in…” He said a strange word in an alien language, then frowned as he considered how to translate. “The essence of what I truly am, as my father’s son. And if anyone sees the real me…” The short Fae shook his head. “Once they know the truth of me, most can no longer bear my presence. Lan is…more resilient than most.”
At the edge of the bushes, I went even more motionless, uncertain if I’d heard him correctly.
“He must be pretty unique then. What’s this Lan like?” Kitty casually crossed her legs and gave Fright a friendly smile.
“Binh Tuan Lan.” Fright pronounced the foreign name even more awkwardly than I did, but in a tone of undeniable admiration. “He is…steadfast. Tenacious. He wants to change the world, to make it a better place, and will stop at nothing to do so. I did not think your world possessed courage like his.”
Cautiously, I crept closer, avoiding the light of the fake flickering torches as much as possible. Whatever Fright had to say, I wanted to hear for myself.
“He has
seen me at my most terrifying,” The small Fae elaborated. “And yet, he was able to overcome, to look past the fear and befriend me despite it. Perhaps that describes his determination where my words cannot.”
“Oh, I don’t think your English is as bad as all that.” Kitty flicked a glance my way, then turned her eyes back to Fright. I shuffled closer to the bushes.
“English? Is that what I am speaking?” Fright smiled and hopped up onto the end of his bench, perching there casually and staring raptly into Kitty’s striking blue eyes. “What a funny name for it.”
“I suppose so.” The DJ laughed softly, melodically. “I have to admit, though.” Her face became more serious. “I’m a little concerned about someone changing the world. It’s kinda…my world, you know. What if I like it the way it is?”
Fright shook his head energetically. “No, no, no. There is no need to worry. This will be an excellent change for those like you and I. Most supernaturals. And perhaps even the humans will appreciate it, in time.” His grin grew until it took up the majority of the lower part of his face. “And it shall begin right here in this city!”
“I think…maybe it depends on how exactly this change is going to happen.” Kitty’s eyes couldn’t hide her concern, and she instinctively glanced in my general direction again.
“I understand your…fear.” His smile was all teeth, but somehow still non-threatening. Innocent. “But I do not know if I am allowed to give you more answers. And I certainly cannot do so for free.” He looked up at the taller woman expectantly, hopefully. “Perhaps, perhaps for another song…” Nervously, the Fae glanced aside—
—and his eyes fell directly on me.
The atmosphere of the Garden changed in an instant, from calm and mundane to dark and filled with crawling shadows. The false torches stuttered, struggling to survive, and a couple extinguished themselves completely as Fright drew himself up, sheer fear oozing from him like a frigid, oily fog.
Under his direct scrutiny, my own shadows roiled, suddenly difficult to control. I stepped out into the open and let them run for cover, ignoring the wave of terror that rolled outward from the nine-fingered Fae.
“How do you do that?” he snapped, his remaining claws at the ready, his face somewhere between agitation and concern as he looked me over.
“I guess I’m just not that impressed.” I shrugged.
“You cannot attack me here,” Fright stated emphatically; he sounded a little worried that he might be wrong. “This Garden is a place of sanctuary for my kind.”
“Don’t worry,” I smiled, making certain to show off my own, admittedly much smaller, collection of sharp monster teethies. “I’m not here to fuck you up again. Not today.”
Fright went still, staring at me doubtfully, quizzically…and finally looked to where Kitty had abandoned her bench and pressed back against the wall, cowering underneath the protective stone shield of Sir Bedevere.
“You…” He pointed an accusing ebony claw tip at her. “You tricked me.” In an instant, his face lit up, appreciation washing away the menace in his eyes. “That was…well done.” The pressure of fear on the air lightened, but didn’t go away.
Instead of responding, Kitty shrank back, trying to hide behind, or perhaps inside, the heavy stone statue.
I watched as Fright’s face fell, his excitement withering and dying away. With clear tension in his bright, hollow eyes, the aura of omnipresent dread dissipated, and he turned to face me once more. “Now behold what you have done.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Actually, I’m pretty sure that was you.” I glanced at Kitty, huddled under the statue, but knew there was nothing I could do.
A quick, agile hop off the marble bench and a couple of swift strides brought the little terror dangerously close. “You have done me and mine much harm,” he growled, his voice a rasp like ice against a shattered tombstone. Up close, I could see the faint lines from where my claws had brushed across his face and never healed. “Perhaps I don’t want sanctuary.”
“Oh! You mean what I did to your friend?” Dead blood pattered softly to the ground as my claws eased from my fingers, the soft whisper of iron a final warning. “Lan tried to murder us. Don’t dig your grave next to his.”
Fright hissed in response, feral and angry, his body tensing before the strike—
“St-stop it, b-both of you,” Kitty, still halfway behind Sir Bedevere, had somehow regained her feet, peering around the stone elbow of the long-dead knight. At her words, Fright took a step back, glancing at her; the tall fairy winced, her legs shaking, but didn’t quite recoil. “I don’t want…the t-two of you to fight.”
Fright and I locked eyes. I shrugged. “You heard the lady,” I said through a not-friendly grin. “Back off.”
“You back off,” he muttered, but stepped back anyway.
“That’s…b-better,” the fairy said, leaning against the statue for moral support.
Fright shook his head. “It was never my desire to horrify you,” he said, inclining his head to Kitty in a reserved, apologetic gesture. “You played the game well, but I cannot remain now that an…” he glanced my way with distaste, “…enemy is here.” He frowned. “I regret that now…I suppose you would not want me to.”
When Kitty didn’t respond, the short Fae bowed to her again, his large eyes sad, and turned to go.
“Perhaps…another time.” Kitty’s voice echoed softly between the statues and caught at Fright’s heels, slowing his steps.
“Then, if I return,” the Fae managed a smile, “perhaps I can trade some stories of Home…for another song.”
Kitty returned the smile, all the guarantee he would get.
It seemed to be enough. With another, more excited smile—and a quick glare for yours truly—Fright disappeared into the nighttime glow of the Magic City.
I waited, motionless, letting the last vestiges of terror air themselves out and making sure Fright’s distinctive heartbeat vanished completely into the distant darkness.
“So…” I watched as Kitty finally stopped trembling and regained a measure of her composure, slowly emerging from her spot between the statues. “I take it he liked your singing?” I asked.
“You could say that,” the woman replied, making her way slowly to one of the wire-backed chairs…and blushing?
“Yup. Said it ‘spoke to his soul,’” Hershel said, popping out of literally nowhere.
I twitched, but managed not to hit him. “Don’t do that! Asshole.” I glared at him and put my claws away before someone had an accident. “And why aren’t you cowering under a bench somewhere?”
“I have been given protection,” he responded, his stormy eyes cryptic and mischievous. “How else could I be expected to do my job?” He patted me on the shoulder with an oversized, gauntleted hand. “Don’t worry Ash, you’re still the ‘unique’ one here.” He eyed me more seriously as I huffed. “Or perhaps it’s just harder to frighten someone who has already faced down death.”
I thought back on the horrors of the past few days.
“No, not really,” I replied.
o o o
I returned with Tamara a minute later; with Fright gone, she had regained her composure easily enough. We settled back into the same wire-backed chairs we’d chosen a few nights ago, and Tamara took a deep breath.
“So,” she looked at Kitty and seemed to size her up anew. “I have questions.”
“That’s fine,” Kitty replied with a smirk, “but first you two should hear what I got out of him before you arrived.”
Tamara and I exchanged looks and settled in.
“First off, like you heard,” Kitty nodded at me, “he’s partners—and friends—with Lan.” Now that Fright wasn’t around, I could see her lip curl a little when she said the name. “They’re working on some project together, something that involves collecting artifacts of significance to Birmingham’s history.”
“That explains why they’re targeting collectors and historians,” Tamara said.
“Still getting to that.” The DJ took a breath. “To be honest, I don’t think Fright really knows. I think he thinks he knows.”
I furrowed my brow. “Come again?”
“Oh, he went on and on about how he and Lan were going to ‘change the world,’ how they were helping to prepare some grand ritual that was going to ‘harness the fear that had been sown in preparation.’ Or something to that effect.” The worry in Kitty’s eyes could have been a reflection of my own. “But it almost sounded like…propaganda, maybe. When it came down to details, Fright actually knew very little.”
“Fear, sown in preparation?” Tamara’s voice was tense with worry of her own. “You don’t mean…”
“Ruby,” I finished. A vague feeling of dread crawled up my spine and without thinking, I reached for her hand, to find hers already searching for my fingers. I wrapped her warm hand in mine and gave it a squeeze. “We always knew there had to be more to it.”
“But a ritual that involves half the city?” Tamara shivered. “That’s a massive scale for a magical working.”
“I know I’ve never heard the like, except in stories,” Hershel nodded in agreement, his face uncharacteristically serious. “And not pleasant stories, either.” He made a face. “Um, just to note…when I said I wanted change, this isn’t what I meant.”
Kitty snorted. “The thing is, like I said, Fright’s not the mastermind here. He’s the lackey, whether he wants to think of it that way or not.” She made certain she had our attention. “And so is Lan.”
“Someone’s using them both?” I frowned.
Tamara shook her head. “More like they’re working for someone because they believe in their goals.” Kitty nodded in agreement. “They’re the ones running back and forth across the city, securing items, questioning people—”
“Or killing them,” Kitty interjected, her suddenly voice full of menace.
“And digging up artifacts,” I added, thinking back to the railyard and putting two and two together. “But who’s their boss? And what does he want?”
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