Dreadful Ashes

by Annathesa Nikola Darksbane

  “Well, shit.” That at least made some sense. “But is she okay?”

  Tamara started that way, but Jason waved her off. “Nah, I got this.” He made a move toward the nearly naked girl, then paused, no doubt feeling me giving him the eye. “Caray, chica muerta! Don’t look at me like that. This is serious.” With surprising care, he brushed some of the changeling’s pale platinum hair away from her face and leaned close, listening. I waited for her to choose that moment to awaken and scream directly into his ear, but to my disappointment it didn’t happen. Apparently satisfied, he put a gentle hand to her forehead for a moment, then nodded.

  “Well?” I asked, impatient.

  He narrowed his eyes at me. “She’s fine…mostly.” He glanced back at the girl. “Remember how fast we heal? If I had to guess, she got hurt real bad and her body’s exhausted from healing it all back.”

  Her heartbeat did seem stronger than it had when I’d first picked her up. That was good. “But why is she naked?” I complained.

  “She prolly took a bad hit while shifted,” he explained, snapping his fingers with a sharp crack. “Boom, out like a light. Her body reverted back when she lost consciousness, but it takes concentration to bring your clothes back with you, like I’ve mentioned before.” He waggled his eyebrows, but there wasn’t much suggestiveness to it.

  While she was shifted… I remembered slamming full force into something soft after Fright hit me out of the park; I even thought I might have recalled hearing a squish or two as I burst through the concrete barrier and smacked into the roof of the parked van. I winced. “Oh. Shit. This…might be my fault. Kinda.”

  “I take it neither o’ you chil’ren found nothin’?” Mama Flora asked, relaxing into her soft, high-backed chair.

  Jason grunted. I waved for him to take the remaining free chair and crouched next to Tamara’s seat instead. I didn’t really need one after all.

  “Well, I ran by the Vulcan statue. The museum's ‘closed for remodeling’.” The shifter’s expression was flat as he set the statement off with a set of air quotes.

  “Because of course it is,” Tamara sighed.

  “Yeah, there's signs and caution tape up, some steel beams and construction materials lying around, but they smell unused, and there’s no signs of anyone actually working.”

  “Ain't no steel beams used in the Vulcan,” Mama Flora sniffed derisively.

  “Figures,” Jason replied with a sigh. “I snuck in anyway, checked around for that ticket you mentioned…no bueno, I'm afraid. Smelled like someone beat me to it by a few hours, at most.”

  “Well, mine went swimmingly.” I pulled down my shirt enough for them to see part of the broad, blossoming bruise in all of its purple-black glory. “I ran into Fright and the wolf pack at the same time, and he knocked me out of the park with the damn torch.”

  “Yeah,” Jason grinned, relaxing back into his chair. “That’s why I didn't stick around long enough to get my ass kicked.”

  “Lucky you.” I sighed, and the end of it turned to a faint growl as a little frustration slipped out. “So, no success at all. How are they suddenly one step ahead of us tonight? And how do we fix it?”

  “Well, a little spirit told me we might run into somethin’ like that,” Mama Flora commented with an easy smile, the old woman still as relaxed as ever. “Well, that you’d get beat to the prize, not clobbered tryin’ t’get it.” I sighed. “But don't you worry your pretty heads over it none, cause Mama’s gonna fix it all up, yeah.”

  “Mama caught me up on the rest of the plan while you were both gone,” Tamara grinned. “And if all we need is one item of significance to eke out a win…” With a flourish, she opened her messenger bag and produced a small, gray iron crown. “…we’ve got it covered.”

  “What—”

  “How did you—” Jason and I glanced at each other, excited.

  “Y’all calm down, now,” Flora’s lively gray eyes sparkled, a match for her smile. “While you two were out lookin’ and gettin’ into trouble, I went t’see an old, old friend.” She took the crown from Tamara and gazed at it, her eyes unfocusing as she looked back at memories. “Miss Ethel Thompson, the Queen of the Vulcan Fair, back in ‘39. Once upon a time, me an’ her were mighty close.” Her eyes twinkled mischievously as they refocused on the present. “Time does go by so, so fast. But things always come full circle, yeah.” She nodded along with her own words. “Nobody mixed up in this mess seems t’have been ‘round back then, ‘cept for me. Nobody remembers all th’ little details, neither.” With a sharp grin and careful hands, she set the old iron crown on her own head. “So I jus’ went an’ asked Ethel if I could borrow her crown for a bit, then talked her into goin’ t’see her daughter for a while so she’d be safe. An’ here we are.”

  “So that’s it.” Jason laughed and sat back in his chair. “After all the people they’ve killed, all the work they’ve done…we can stop these assholes from doing…whatever it is they were wanting to do to the city. We won.”

  I opened my mouth to agree, then paused.

  Nothing was ever that simple.

  “No,” I rasped, drawing everyone’s eyes. “We can’t just sit on this. It won’t work.”

  “Why not, chica?” the shifter asked. “Thought this was all we needed.”

  “We played our hand tonight,” I replied gravely. “Showed them we know about their plans by going after their targets. So what reason would we have to stop going after them, with everything that’s at stake?”

  Tamara breathed out a long breath, her happy smile fading. “If we stop hunting them, stop fighting over the pieces of the Vulcan, they’ll know we have the means to stop them already.” She winced. “And they’ll bring the hammer down on us worse than ever.”

  “We have to keep going as if we didn’t have an ace in the hole.” I nodded. “Which means we need to find some way to apply more pressure. Somehow.”

  “Um…” an unfamiliar voice spoke from nowhere, and I twitched in surprise and nearly fell over. “Maybe I—we—can help.”

  Tamara caught my shoulder and pointed me toward where the half-naked wolf changeling was blushing and slowly sitting up.

  “Bout time you joined in, chava linda.” Jason grinned. “You been lyin’ there listening long enough.”

  o o o

  Dezi, as she called herself, settled in a lot better once clad in one of Mama Flora’s biggest sleepshirts and with a steaming hot mug of chocolate firmly situated in her hands. She was a thin wisp of a girl that couldn't be twenty yet; a little taller than average with a lean frame that wasn’t quite fit and wasn’t quite underfed. Pale platinum hair framed a light-skinned, freckled face just on the pretty side of plain, but her eyes were her most standout feature: big and pale green, with hints of amber-gold that caught the light and hinted strongly at her dual nature.

  “I didn't mean to deceive you,” the shifter began shyly, raking a few strands of feathery hair behind one ear. “It's just…”

  “Of course, you did,” Jason cut in with an honest laugh. “I mean, I saw through it, but I think you had everybody else fooled.”

  At my arm, Tamara sighed quietly and shook her head.

  “But it makes sense, chava. Your pack and ours,” Jason grinned around the room, “have kinda been at each other's throats for a week or so, and you wanted to see what was up without givin’ yourself away.”

  “My Alpha…” She took a deep breath before looking directly at me. “He thinks you killed one of his friends, one of the pack’s friends. And that you'll kill more if someone doesn't stop you.”

  I held her gold-flecked gaze. “And what do you think?”

  “That maybe…” she hesitated and took another deep breath. “Maybe he's wrong. That maybe we've run into more stuff in the last several days than that simple explanation accounts for. And from what I heard you talking about, you seem…”

  “Almost like we're on your side or somethin’?” Mama Flora filled in softly, smiling.
>
  “So when you realized you’d been captured by the enemy,” Jason tossed his legs over the arm of the chair and lounged as he spoke, “you decided to play dead and see what you could learn. That’s some clever shit right there.” He gave the other shifter a roguish grin. “Sounds like you’re almost as smart as me, chava.”

  Dezi met his eyes for a moment. “Probably a little smarter than that, chamaco. No hubieras hecho lo mismo?”

  Jason blinked and sat up straight as his mouth dropped open slightly. “Whoa.”

  Dezi gave him a sly little wink. I enjoyed the moment; I’d rarely seen him stricken speechless.

  “Anyway.” I caught her attention again. “You said you might could help. What did you mean?”

  “Well…” The young werewolf took a moment to collect her thoughts before continuing. “We were following the scents that we found on…our friend’s body.” She swallowed hard. “We crossed your path first, and since we’d never run into any scent like it, we assumed it was you. But over the last couple of days, we’ve also run into the really scary one, and the other one just like you.”

  I felt a couple of curious glances fall on me, but I kept my eyes on the changeling and pretended I hadn’t noticed. Only Tamara—and Aine—knew about my accidental spawn, and I didn’t want to deal with that changing. Not right now.

  “But my point is,” Dezi finally met my eyes again, “if you’ve got anything of theirs, anything that smells of the people you’re trying to hunt down, my pack can help.” She squared her slim shoulders as if mustering her courage. “It sounds like things are even worse than we thought, and we’re going to help stop it.”

  Meanwhile, Jason and I exchanged a long look until I finally broke first and facepalmed. “I’ve got just the thing,” I rasped, showing fangs. “I’ll go get it and you and I can put the screws to these assholes.”

  “I’ll see that thought and raise you one,” the werecoyote mirrored my grin, minus the fangs. “I’m coming with you. We know where they’ve been and we’ve got their scent. I can find them. Easy mode, chica.”

  Dezi blinked, startled. “Wait, you don’t want our help? I can take you to our Alpha, help explain—”

  I shook my head. “Sorry, Dezi.” I tried to deny her gently. “You still seem too weak to be running around town. And besides, no offense, but you guys really don’t seem to like us. I’m not sure we have time to deal with that. We can mend relations after we make sure the Vulcan doesn't come crashing down on all of us.”

  “There’s a lot more of us than the two of you,” the girl protested. “Whatever you can search, we can search quicker.”

  I creaked my way to my feet, trying to ignore the stiffness in my damaged knee and still shaking my head.

  “Child,” Mama Flora chided, “once they got an idea in their noggins, it’s just better t’let ‘em run it out. They’ll come ‘round t’makin sense soon ‘nough, yeah.”

  I frowned, looking at the mambo. “You don’t think it’s a good idea either, Mama?”

  She stared at me thoughtfully for a moment, her eyes a little distant. “I think you need to do what you think you have to,” the old woman said finally. “And ‘sides, you ain’t wrong. This youngin’ needs a bit more rest ‘fore we get to th’ exciting part, yeah. She’ll need her strength, just like th’ rest of us.” She pursed her lips, looking the wolfling over. “That, an’ maybe a bowl or two of good, hearty gumbo, mmm-mmm.”

  Dezi smiled at Mama Flora and fell silent. She still didn’t look like she agreed with me though.

  “Don’t worry about us, chava.” Jason gave her a crooked smile that drew the girl’s eyes and brightened her expression a little. “We’re professionals.”

  I stared at him as we left, then paused as Tamara followed us into the dim hallway.

  “You…don’t want me coming with you, do you?” she said quietly before I could say anything.

  “Tam…” I sighed out some stale air. “Someone needs to stay here and watch the crown. Mama’s capable, but she can’t fight off these jackasses by herself, even with her spells and wards. What if they came after her?” I remembered how easily Salvatore and his blood golem had torn through Mama Flora’s walls. And besides…I’m not certain you can take much more fighting. I don’t want to lose you. I can’t.

  Not again.

  Tamara nodded slowly. “Yeah. The crown.” I could see the shimmer of irritation and frustration in the dull sapphire of her eyes if not in the lines of her perfect face; she knew it was a convenient reason as well as I did. “I guess…I’ll stay here, then.” I turned to go, and she caught my tattered sleeve.

  “I don’t want you to make a habit of leaving me behind,” she said softly, staring into my eyes.

  Me either. I nodded, the words caught in my throat. But there are much worse things that could happen.

  “C’mon, child.” Mama Flora emerged from where she’d been completely hidden behind Tamara and put a hand gently on the Moroi’s arm. “Lets you and me see what we can do about freshnin’ up some leftover gumbo, yeah?” She smiled until she caught my eyes. “Ogoun’s call is in the air. Won’t be long now.”

  o o o

  I arrived at my church minutes later, a small midwestern coyote under one arm. Another semi-legitimate reason to leave Tamara behind was that it was far easier to haul a supernatural animal the size of a shoebox across town than it was to haul a whole Moroi.

  As soon as my feet touched down on the cracked, age-old asphalt, I dropped the eagerly wriggling coyote to the ground. Jason shuddered and retched a couple of times, then regained his composure.

  “No offense, chica muerta, but I don’t like flying Air Ashes much,” he said.

  I shrugged. “We take what we can get,” I replied. “You okay?”

  “I think I left half my stomach between here and Five Points.” the teen-turned-animal made a face. “Just don’t tell the new girl, eh?”

  I shook my head and headed inside, only to stop when I realized Jason hadn’t followed me in. “What? It can’t be that bad.”

  For the first time in my life, a coyote shushed me, tilting his head and sniffing the air with his muzzle. “You’ve had company while you were out, chica,” he said quietly. I could see some of the fur around the nape of his neck standing up. “Dead man walking, I think.”

  Which one, I wondered. “Then let’s get our asses inside, shall we?” I shoved the great stone door mostly closed and let him dart inside. Now my hackles were up, too. It didn’t feel like my wards had been damaged, though—as far as I could tell, anyway—so what was going on?

  We made our way downstairs past my chunky stone sentinel, and I pulled the slim metal stake out of the wall and crouched, holding it out to Jason. “This close enough?” If it's not, I don’t want to know what is.

  “Smells like dead asshole to me,” the coyote replied, his sensitive sniffer an inch from the bloodstained metal. “And silver, and a touch of magic.” He made an uneasy face.

  I moved the dangerous metal away from the changeling with a nod of thanks. At least that helped explain how these things kept going through my skin in the first damned place. It also meant someone was making them. And distributing them. I sighed.

  “Let’s go.” I hesitated. “But keep your eyes and ears open.”

  “Always, chica,” he replied.

  Back on street level, I dragged the heavy door closed while Jason kept watch.

  We made it to the darkened, empty street before faint, shadowy mist swirled up out of the empty air, blocking our path—and coalescing into Binh Tuan Lan an instant later.

  “Thought I might have missed you,” he said.

  One quick stride and I tore the city’s newest stop sign from the sidewalk, crumbles of heavy concrete and asphalt trickling to the ground. “Careful,” I glanced down at a wary Jason. “Get too close and he'll eat you.”

  The shifter growled an affirmative. “What do, chica muerta?”

  I paused. “Apoyar morder tobillo,” I
replied awkwardly.

  The small animal tilted its head for a moment, confused, then chuckled and grinned a feral grin as its only response.

  “Wait,” the Jiangshi held up his empty hands. “I did not come here to fight you.”

  “You hurt Tamara,” I growled, suddenly more feral than the coyote. “I’m gonna put your head through that lamppost. The rest of you is optional.”

  I advanced forward, and Lan leapt back, landing lightly on a battered, graffiti-covered fire hydrant.

  “As soon as I can catch you, anyway,” I rasped.

  “Hold,” Lan reiterated, more insistently, his sincerity catching my attention. “Further conflict between us is inevitable. But conflict now benefits neither of us.”

  Now that he mentioned it, I wasn’t certain the Jiangshi looked up to a fight. His broadsword was missing in action, and he’d replaced his nice suit with a simple gray hoodie and blue jeans, not so different from what yours truly would wear, just newer and a size or so smaller. But his right shoulder moved slowly and stiffly, and the thick, ichor-stained bandages that wrapped the right side of his face and covered his missing eye told a story of the lasting damage our previous fight had left him with.

  I couldn’t bring myself to care. Not that I tried very hard.

  “I wanted to tell you,” Lan began while I was still sizing him up. “That I have lived long enough to smell the deception in the twisted words, despite what our leader says about you. That I know now there is more in motion here than just our revolution. And that I have one favor to ask of you.” I opened my mouth to tell him where he could stick his favor, but something in his face made me pause. “Spare Fright. Spare your friends further suffering. None of them deserve this.” He smiled a thin smile. “You are too close. Do not pursue this further.”

  “That all?” I gave the stop sign a swing, getting a feel for its heft, as Jason circled around through the shadows. “I’m tired of your damn warnings.”

  The last of the words left my lips twisted in a snarl, and I darted forward and swung, only to hit empty air as Lan dove and rolled, ending up in the middle of the street.