A Monster's Death

by Raven Steele

  I kept walking, keeping my head down until I reached Kristen's apartment building. I sunk into the shadows across the street and watched it for several minutes. For the most part, no one paid the old six-story building any attention, but there were two men sitting in a parked car out front who couldn't keep their eyes off it. Their windows were rolled down, and by their posture and their expensive-looking suits, I guessed they were working for Victor. The driver dangled his arm out the open window. Blood tinged his knuckles.

  I was too late.

  4

  Anger surged through me, and it took all my mental strength not to storm over to the parked car and beat the ever-living shit out of them right then and there. I ached to feel their bones crunch beneath my fists, but I reigned in my anger for the sake of Kristen. I had to make sure she was okay.

  With the men watching the front of the building, I would have to find another way in. Even though no one believed I was alive, I didn't want to take the chance that someone might recognize me from the fight last night. The two men I had beaten had surely given a description to others, but a tall man with black hair was hardly uncommon in the city. Only my tattoo would really give me away.

  I glanced up to the roof. That was my best option.

  Backtracking a block and to the other side of the street, I climbed a fire escape ladder a few buildings down from Kristen's as high as I could. When I could go no further, I eyed the brick wall of the building searching for another way up. I found it by way of a long pipe that ran vertically from the roof to the ground.

  Hopping on top of the metal railing of the fire escape, I leapt toward the pipe and caught it with both hands. Pressing my feet to the wall, I used the pipe to pull myself toward the roof. Heights had never been a problem for me. I often sought out the highest points in the city to spend my free time at night. Maybe that was because it was the furthest I could get from being underground.

  Once I reached the top, I jogged across the roof and jumped hard to clear the alley opening over to the next building. I made it easily, landing in a roll and then back to my feet. With another jog and another leap, I reached my aunt's building.

  I peered over the edge. Her apartment was directly below me on the top floor. When I was sure no one was watching her fire escape, I leapt from the roof and soundlessly landed on the metal balcony. The blinds were drawn on the window, but I could see through a bend in one of the slats. The lights were off, but on her small dining room table I spotted a steaming cup of coffee. She appeared just then, pressing an icepack to her cheek.

  I gripped the windowsill so hard it nearly cracked. They had already gotten to her. This was my fault.

  I watched her for a moment. She wore a long purple robe, but her sandy blond hair had been combed and styled. She must have to go into work soon. Kristen was a criminal sketch artist for the Cruise City Police Department. She used to love her job—playing a role in catching bad guys—but she had said that in the last few years, her drawings didn't seem to matter because the bad guys always got away with their crimes.

  I swallowed the fullness in my throat and rapped softly on the window.

  A moment later the blinds lifted. When she saw me, her green eyes widened and she threw open the window.

  "What are you doing here?" she whispered. "You need to leave now!"

  "Let me in," I said.

  She backed away, her hand on her heart and shaking her head, as I slipped inside. "You shouldn't be here. And how do you know where I live?"

  "I've always known. They did that to you, didn't they?" My eyes flashed to an angry bruise on the side of her face.

  "Aris," she breathed. "You need to go."

  "Answer me!" I took a breath to try and calm the rage that was burning my insides.

  "They came here about an hour ago looking for someone who might be pretending to be the Crow, someone who even had the same tattoo. They thought that maybe I had talked to someone. Of course, I denied everything, but they still did their best to make sure I'd never speak about Crow to anyone." She pressed the ice pack to her check.

  "I'm so sorry," I said. "This is all my fault."

  She reached out and took my arm. Her touch was warm and familiar. My first memory of her was tying my shoes at age five just before Roman took me to the Bisou Islands off the coast of Louisiana. That's where we learned from the Ames de la Terra. That kind and gentle group of witches and spiritual healers taught me how to control my ability and also taught Roman to use elemental magic.

  "No, Aris," she said. "I knew the day would come when you would want to fight. You can't stay underground forever, and I'm ready for whatever that may bring. The people of the city are, too. We need your big heart to heal us." She smiled at me. "You're so much like your mother."

  "And like my father. I'm going to turn things around. Victor's days are numbered."

  Her hands lowered. "I'm sure you will. Have you eaten?"

  I thought I saw a flash of anger in her eyes before she turned away, but when she looked back at me there was nothing but love and kindness.

  "I'm good," I said. "I just wanted to check on you. I'll take care of those men camping out front."

  She reached out, her hand in a stopping motion. "No! They won't bother me again. They'll follow me around for a few days to intimidate me and then they'll disappear. You know how Victor feels about anything Crow. The thought of someone pretending to be Crow in his city is probably making him crazy. Just leave it alone."

  I watched her for a moment, wondering if that was the best course of action.

  She turned away and walked to the counter, where she sliced a grapefruit in half. "When I go into work today, I'll listen for any chatter that might pertain to you and let you know. I still have your number."

  "What do you know about Judge Lamrey?" I asked.

  She turned around. "Sheryl? I've spoken to her several times over the years. From what I can tell, she's one of the few good ones left. She's actually tough on criminals, unlike many of the other judges. Why?"

  "What case is she working on right now?"

  She frowned in concentration as she set half of a grapefruit on a plate and returned to the table to sit down. "A big case actually. Have you heard of Dax Baxter?"

  I shook my head.

  "How about the Physician?"

  Every muscle in my body flexed. Everyone knew who the Physician was. He was Victor's right-hand man and a ruthless killer, known for paralyzing his victims. Many times this resulted in their deaths.

  "The DA finally has enough evidence to try him and Sheryl has been assigned to his case. I feel bad for her. I would not want to be in her shoes." She looked up at me. "You want to tell me what this is about?"

  "I have to go," I said and turned toward the window. I needed to find the Judge and warn her about the threat toward Emma's life. I had no doubts Victor was trying to use Emma against her mother. "I'll check in on you when I can."

  "Wait!"

  I glanced back at her.

  "Promise me you'll be careful. You may have special abilities, but you're not invincible. Your mother will haunt me if anything happens to you."

  "I'll be careful. I swear."

  "Good."

  I stepped through the window and glanced to the alley below. When I was sure it was empty, I leapt over the railing and fell to the ground six stories below, landing quietly. I crept to the end of the alley and peered out. Victor's men were still parked out front. They'd probably follow her to work, too. I could at least do something about that.

  From within my boot pocket, I withdrew my knife. I aimed carefully and tossed it toward the vehicle's rear tire. It expertly hit its mark embedding deeply into the tire. Once they start driving, the knife should come dislodged, and they'll never know they were sabotaged.

  I checked the time on my cell phone. Almost eight in the morning. I needed to speak to Judge Lamrey.

  I headed across town to the courthouse almost twenty blocks away. It took me nearly twenty min
utes to get there on account of waiting at crosswalks and avoiding the crowds and areas with open sunlight. Had I been underground, it would've only taken me five, but I felt more free up here.

  I stopped beneath the shade of a tall, leafy oak tree and stared at Coast City's courthouse. It was a massive building with a wing on each side of a square center adorned with several tall pillars that ran from the roof to the ground. I debated what to do next. Somehow I had to speak with the judge and warn her about the threat toward Emma. Maybe Emma could be put under police protection. But could I trust the police to protect her? It was rumored that many of them were on Victor's payroll.

  So what were my other options? I didn't want to tell the judge not to try the case against the Physician. That psychopath had to be put behind bars. That would be a huge step in making the city safe again. But at the cost of Emma's life? Somehow I had to remove the threat against her without jeopardizing the judge's work.

  Maybe it was finally time to take out Victor's network, starting with stopping the flow of money and drugs into the city. This would give Victor something else to focus on instead of freeing the Physician.

  This thought made my muscles flex. I was so ready to take down the man who killed my parents and forced me into hiding. He wouldn't know what hit him.

  I slid my phone out from within my pocket and stared down at the screen, my thumb hovering above it. I didn't like what I was about to do, checking in on Emma like this. Not like she was ever going to know, but still. I pressed a few buttons then entered her number into the screen. A few seconds later, her location came up. She was at the police station on the other side of the block. She was probably there to have a sketch drawn of her attackers. Too bad she didn't know they had already been captured and released.

  Keeping to the shade of the many trees that filled this part of the city, I crossed around the side of the courthouse until I reached the police station. I found a shaded bench in the park across the street and kept an eye on the entrance while I pretended to be on my phone. I was tempted to call Kristen to see if she had already met with Emma. I had only called her once before and that had been four years ago when I was fifteen. I still wasn't sure why I had called. She had come to visit me shortly after.

  After waiting impatiently, for what I wasn't sure, I finally decided to call Kristen. She answered on the third ring.

  "Hello?"

  "Did you draw a sketch for a girl named Emma Lamrey?"

  "Who is this?"

  "Aris."

  Silence, then, "You don't know how to properly talk on the telephone, do you?"

  "But I am speaking."

  She sighed. "What's going on?"

  "Did you meet Emma?"

  "The judge's daughter, yes I did. Beautiful girl. She's speaking with the police commissioner and his assistant right now with her mother. The judge wasn't happy when she found out the two men who attacked Emma were released early this morning. Someone sure screwed up."

  "Do you trust the men Emma is with?"

  "Michael and Kevin? Michael's a little rough around the edges, but he runs a tight ship. His assistant Kevin doesn't talk much, but seems nice enough."

  "That's not what I asked. Do you trust them?"

  There was a brief pause. "I don't trust anyone who works here."

  Exactly what I was worried about. I couldn't hand over Emma's safety to the police. On to Plan B: discover the source of Victor's money and drugs and destroy it. If I caused a big enough distraction doing that, Victor would be more focused on finding me than worrying about Emma or her mother.

  I hung up and stood, about to leave, when I caught a familiar face among the many. Emma was exiting the building with her mother in tow. Kristen was right. The judge was pissed. Her bright red lips were pressed together in a tight line and her brows were drawn together. I could hear the sharp clicking of her black heels against the concrete all the way across the park.

  Emma, however, didn't look angry. She looked scared, and rightfully so. Her dark hair had been tied up into a loose ponytail and she wore an oversized sweatshirt that practically drowned her. Her face was pale and she walked slowly with downcast eyes.

  They descended the long set of stairs in front of the police station. Her mother walked much quicker than Emma and had to keep stopping to wait for her. I wondered if maybe Emma was still in shock. It's too bad her mother was too preoccupied to notice, but from what I remembered, her mother rarely took time when it came to Emma.

  I ground my jaw together. It had always bothered me the lack of love Emma received from those around her. Her life should be filled with love.

  I retreated further into the park as Emma grew closer. Her mother motioned for her to stay put while she left for the car. Emma stared down at the ground, her arms wrapped around herself, and her foot twisting into a crack on the sidewalk. Her eyes shifted to a short man who walked toward her. He didn't look threatening, yet she still cowered, her eyes closed tight. Seeing her so frightened made me move out from my spot behind the tree. Maybe there was something about the approaching man I couldn't see from my position.

  A moment later, the man passed by Emma without even a glance in her direction. I breathed a sigh of relief and was about to retreat into the shadows when Emma looked up from the ground and locked eyes with me. We were far apart from each other, but I swore her expression changed to one of surprise. Recognition, perhaps? Or more fear?

  My heart pounded as I darted the other way and continued on the path until I was out of her view. I circled back around, but by then Emma was gone. I checked her location again. It looked like she was heading home. Good. She should be safe there, at least for a while.

  I should head back to Ironwood and talk to Roman, but I feared he would talk me out of what I was about to do. I was done waiting. I balled up my fists, resisting the urge to pound everything in sight. After what Victor's men did to Emma and Kristen, I was more than ready to enact some serious revenge. The people I cared about had suffered enough.

  If people wanted to believe the Crow had risen, then I was going to remind them what happens when you piss him off.

  5

  The moon rose high into the dark sky. It was full and bright enough to break through Coast City’s skyglow. The stars, however, remained buried in darkness.

  I shifted my weight against the brick building, pushing my rage down until it was a humming buzz in my chest. I stood across the street from a sleazy bar in Pigtown, squished between two buildings with only half of its sign lit up so it read "Bob's B." A green awning shaded the front door, which sported several dents as if someone had gone ape on it.

  I had been waiting for the last several hours for a guy named Tom to come out of Bob's Bar, the same one I had been in earlier that day. He was the only one I could get to talk to me about Victor. Probably because he had been the drunkest person in there.

  For thirty minutes, I pretended to drink while I praised Victor's enterprise. Tom joined in and it wasn't long before he thought us best friends. That's when I convinced him to give me a job, promising to do whatever was required of me. I even said I was willing to knock around a few heads if necessary. He had eyed me up and down and seemed to be pleased with what he saw. He told me to come back tomorrow, but I persisted, claiming I needed a job that night. That's when he got testy saying he was busy working at a warehouse on Tenth Street and wouldn't be able to teach me the ropes until later.

  That's all I needed.

  I left the bar and waited until Tom was finished drinking for the night. It seemed to last forever, but eventually he exited the bar around ten o'clock, walking straighter than I expected. He signaled for a cab and I quickly did the same. I followed him all the way to the warehouse district.

  Tom got out on the corner and proceeded to walk another two blocks. I stayed a fair distance behind, a black hoodie pulled low over my head. I had bought it from a sport shop earlier that day, knowing I would need to try and conceal myself when night came. There were few peo
ple on the streets in this part of town, but the ones who stalked them were the kind you should avoid.

  When Tom disappeared into the side entrance of a large brick building that must've had three stories, I found my way up to the roof of the building next door. I peered over the ledge for a long time trying to gauge what was inside. They could be making rhino dust inside, or it could be a facility where the drugs were held. Victor owned several buildings all across the city. I had many of them marked on my wall-of-everything-Victor back at Ironwood, but I was not familiar with this one.

  While I watched, a group of men exited the building, each carrying a briefcase in their hand. Not long after, another group arrived, stayed for ten minutes, then left again. It sure looked shady. If I could just get inside, and if something illegal was going on, then I could destroy the operation, detain whoever was inside, and call the police. That would be an excellent way to preoccupy Victor, especially knowing I planned on doing that to every single one of Victor's locations until ultimately I captured him. When that day came, I would look him in the eyes and tell him who I was. He may have not been convicted of killing my parents, but I knew differently. There's no way that explosion was caused by anyone else but him. He had the most to gain from the death of my parents.

  I scanned the roof across from me, my eyes settling on a skylight. I could probably get into the building from there. Getting a running start, I leapt across the twenty-foot alley. The long skylight rose from the roof a few feet. I peered inside. Directly beneath me was a long conference room table sitting in the dark. It must seat at least thirty people. I pressed my ear to the glass. There were no sounds on this upper floor, only muffled voices rising from the bottom level.