Old Wounds

by Ren Hamilton

  “Are you sure you can do that? Emotionally, I mean.”

  Shep was silent for a long moment. “If I thought I could get through to him, bring him back from this madness, I’d die trying. I love Allisto. But in the mindset he’s in, I fear he’ll take everyone else I love from me. I can’t let him do that.”

  “Are you certain that you and your brothers together can defeat him? As you said, he appears more powerful since his…resurrection. We’ll back you up. But we both know conventional weapons can be uncertain against your kind.”

  Shep looked at Wesley. “Yes, but we do have unconventional weapons.”

  “Are you planning to use me as bait?” Wesley asked. “I really, really don’t want to get bitten again. Especially after seeing what he did to Joey.”

  “No,” Shep said. “I’m planning to use me as bait.” He looked at Litner. “I know I’ve put you through a lot already. But I’ll take that backup, if your offer is sincere. I could really use your help on this one. But I need more than just your firepower, Litner.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well…here’s the thing. I know we did you and yours harm out at Forest Bluffs. But you gave as well as you got. What I’m trying to say is, you sure as shit know how to plan a surprise attack. Caught me with my pants down, and that’s not easy to do. I need...I need your expertise.”

  Litner’s brows rose. “Do you have coffee in the house?”

  “Of course.”

  Litner looked at Palumbo. “Can you stay here and work through the night with us?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Okay,” Litner said. “As I said, Allisto knows he can’t take on all of us, and he knows who’s in this house. He won’t be back tonight. And during the daylight...” He paused, glanced at Joey, then back at Shep. “Does Allisto, um, still have his wings?”

  Palumbo’s eyes widened.

  Shep held a finger up, then walked over the table. “Is he sleeping?”

  “On and off,” Juris said.

  “Joey,” Shep said, stroking his hair. “You awake?”

  Joey turned his head, and Litner’s gut lurched when he saw the swollen eyes. He’d really taken a beating.

  “It’s okay,” Shep said. “You just lie here and relax. I’m gonna get that fucker, Joey. I need to know one thing. Does he still have his wings?”

  Joey’s face screwed into a grimace. “Yes,” he croaked. “Took me...over the trees.”

  Shep leaned over and gave him a gentle kiss on the top of his head. “In an hour give him another painkiller,” Shep said to Juris, who nodded. Then he walked back over to Litner. “You heard him.”

  “Right,” Litner said. “So he won’t be back tonight, and he likely doesn’t want to expose himself during the day. That gives us the rest of tonight and tomorrow to form a plan.”

  Shep nodded, looking wearily over at the dining room. “I should make some food, let my brothers sit for a while and calm down. They’ve had quite a shock.”

  “And so have you,” Litner said. “How are you doing?”

  “Me? I have to kill my own brother. How do you think I’m doing?”

  “I can prepare some food and coffee,” Palumbo offered. “Maybe Shep can go spend a little time with Joey and his brothers.”

  Tyler’s young face was tight with fear, though his voice was steady, soothing even. Litner was beginning to respect Palumbo more and more, could see why Michaels had chosen him. The guy had been ripped out of reality in the past few weeks, into a world of blood and death and mythical creatures that could walk through walls and explode heads, yet he never faltered, not once. And though many of those creatures now stood nearby, the soldier was trying to help, and being kind and sensitive about it. If he shared his teammate Garrett Upton’s hatred of Shep and his kind, he kept it well hidden.

  “That sounds good, thanks, Tyler,” Litner said. “Shepherd, where do you want to set up operations?”

  “In the basement,” Shep said. He looked at Wesley. “We can comfortably discuss plans down there, there’s plenty of room. And also, I have an idea, so I want to see what this kid can do.” He gave Wesley a quick, but affectionate slap on the shoulder.

  Wesley cracked his first smile of the evening. “Enough with the ‘kid’ already. I’m sixty-three years old, Shepherd.”

  “Right,” Palumbo said, scowling at Wesley. “And I’m the Pope of Rome. I’m gonna go make that coffee.” He moved off into the kitchen.

  Shep went into the kitchen as well, grabbed a bottle of orange juice, then came back and handed it to Wesley. “You’ve lost blood and you look like a ghost. Drink all of this. You’ll need your strength.”

  After that he went over and spoke softly to his brothers. Moments later they lifted Joey off the table and carried him down the hall. When they’d all gone, Wesley let out a long, heavy breath and sat down on a stool at the island, bending over with his head in his hands.

  Agent Litner moved over beside him. “I understand that you feel you’re needed. But I must remind you. You don’t have to be involved. You’re not obligated to Shep or anyone else here.”

  Wesley straightened up. “I was with Shep when we found Joey.” His hand trembled as he raked back his blond bangs with his fingers. “Joey’s got bite marks and bruises...all over his body. And the blood. You didn’t see him before they patched him up.”

  “That was him patched up?” Palumbo said, pausing at the counter with a bag of sugar in his hand.

  “What Allisto did to him...” Wesley took another deep breath. “That could have been me if you hadn’t been there at the house. When he bit me.”

  Litner huffed. “I suppose you’re right. At the time I wouldn’t have thought you got off easy, but looking at Joey?”

  “Yeah.” Wesley shuddered. “The thing that did that to Joey? Has to be destroyed.” He nodded. “And I want to help make that happen if I can. Allisto attacked me. And I’ve got the same blood type as Joey. I could still be a target. So this isn’t all about helping Shepherd. It’s more of an enemy of my enemy thing that’s made me amenable to assisting him.”

  Litner’s lips tightened. He couldn’t pretend to like the idea. “Wes, you might have a bomb inside of you, but you have absolutely no combat experience, and this goes way beyond basic training.”

  “I know,” Wesley said. “But you’re on tactical duty right?” A wisp of a smile crinkled his eyes. “What could possibly go wrong?”

  “I don’t know,” Litner said. “What possibly went wrong at Forest Bluffs? I planned that too, by the way.”

  Wesley shifted, giving Litner a once over. “Well, you look really cool with all those weapons on. I’m sold.”

  Tyler Palumbo snickered. “Hey, I’m on tactical too. And I’m pretty damn good at it if I do say so myself.”

  Wesley turned to him. “Oh, I’m sorry. You look really cool, too.”

  Litner grinned. “This is Wesley, by the way. We just found out he has superpowers.”

  Palumbo gave a thumbs up as he flicked on the coffee maker. “Outstanding.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Allisto felt like he was burning from the inside. Something bad was in him, and it wasn’t the chosen one’s blood. It was like a fever, but not in his body. It was in his mind.

  Since he’d returned to the flesh, daydreams, flashbacks, delusions? He didn’t know how to categorize the episodes. He only knew his memories of being in the void kept returning, so strong and viscerally it stole his breath away. There was no sleeping in the byways, but now that he was back in the nether realm, his body required rest. But he couldn’t. Each time his eyes closed, the darkness triggered one of the episodes—that too-clear memory of the nothing and the nowhere imprisoning him and infecting him with its soul sickness.

  He paced the hotel room, freshly showered and dressed in new clothing, slices ripped into the back of the loose shirt to allow his wings through. The shirt was necessary, because although the big coat hid his wings, he couldn’t go
out in public bare-chested, especially while it was still light out. But he needed to go out. There had been no sleep through the night after his attack on Joey. His body and mind had been exhausted, but there had been no sleep. Because the darkness only brought flashbacks of the darkness. He needed to stay awake. Fresh air. Stimulation. Outside.

  Grabbing his long coat, he draped it over his shoulders, making sure he was concealed. He could still smell the chosen one’s blood coming from the bathroom where he’d showered it off, watched it leak down the drain. His fists clenched. He hadn’t planned on losing control with Joey to such an extent. He’d nearly killed him, and that wasn’t part of his plan. Not yet. Because he wanted Shep to be there to watch when Allisto killed Joey, Klee, Margol, and Juris. He wanted him to experience the ultimate pain, over and over again while Allisto laughed and rejoiced.

  But that first mouthful of Joey’s blood, so tainted with Shep, had driven him into a rage. Wesley’s blood was even more tainted than Joey’s, but Allisto didn’t know the former chosen one personally, had no memories to heat his fury. But when that rush of Shep’s essence absorbed into him as he drank from Joey, it all came back to him: the cruel way the handsome Duvaine brat had treated them when they first arrived, always vying for Shep’s attention, even though they were his true family. The way Shep doted on Joey and made him a priority.

  Joey represented all the horrors that had befallen Allisto, because if Shep hadn’t dragged them here to find his little vessel of spite, they’d be back with The Light right now. Not miserable in this disgusting realm. Selfish pig, Zirub was. Allisto had told his brother he didn’t want to come here all those years ago, said it was a terrible idea. They couldn’t just leave their posts and go to the planet, no matter how just Shep thought his mission was. But the other brothers agreed. Allisto would have been alone, had he refused.

  He had always loved Shep, Zirub, his brother and his leader. Loved him with all of his soul. Yet now he hated his brother with a passion that made him feel sick. His only reprieve from that sickness came when he was hurting Joey. It felt so good, and he imagined it was Shep, helpless and bleeding, suffering at another’s hands for a change. He would see Shep bleed before he was finished here. Shep was a selfish abomination, putting his own vain needs before everyone else, even if it meant their misery.

  He didn’t even look for me. Allisto winced as a flashback from the void tried to surface. He didn’t come for me. He didn’t care that I was gone. Suffering. He didn’t even look for me. None of them did. They all abandoned me to the void and moved on.

  Allisto would rip his brothers apart, starting with Shep. He’d find a way.

  He left the hotel and stepped out onto the bustling sidewalk, cringing away from the people and their awful flesh. A terrible smell caught him as he moved slowly down the road, and he gagged. He’d thought getting some air would help calm his mind, but this was anything but fresh. Up ahead he spotted the source, a cart selling sausages to eager humans, who scoffed them down on rolls, covered with onions and peppers. He moved quickly past, covering his nose.

  Finding a bench, he sat and got control of himself, his gut clenching with the urge to vomit. He watched the people pass by on the sidewalk, rushing around, oblivious that his brother planned to sterilize most of them. He bowed his head, unable to bear the sight. He hated the flesh, and all that went with it, but he hated Shep more, for taking chances and acting against The Light. For taking him away from it. His face tightened when he spotted a half-eaten chicken drumstick, rotting on the sidewalk under the bench.

  This was him, he thought: a rotting piece of flesh, just like that bird part. Broken, ripped, boiled and gnawed on. Unable to look at it any longer, he lifted his head and leaned back against the bench, taking a deep breath. A woman came out of a store in front of him and paused, staring at him, a strange smile on her face. She was young to middle-aged, spruced up in makeup and expensive clothes, her slim figure accentuated by the silk dress.

  Carrying a shopping bag, she strolled across the sidewalk, high heels clicking, and smiled at him. “Wow, I’m sorry, I was staring, wasn’t I? You must forgive me.”

  Allisto examined her aura. There was nothing threatening there, just a mild internal chaos. “Forgive you for what?” he asked.

  She shrugged and let out a girlish giggle. “Well, for staring. I just couldn’t help myself. You’re a model, right? Of course you’re a model. Those eyes. The hair. That face.”

  Allisto shook his head. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “You’re stunning! I’m sorry, I should introduce myself. Milly Gray, I’m here visiting friends. I work for a modeling agency in New York. Beauty is kind of my business, and I’ve never seen a more beautiful man.”

  Allisto smiled at her because it was expected, but he wanted her gone. She stunk of perfume, and an essence of lust clouded her aura, making him want to gag.

  “So you really haven’t modeled?”

  “No.”

  “I should give you my card.” She dug into her purse. “That smile, my goodness. It’s really not fair.” She laughed again, that high-pitched giggle. “I don’t suppose you’d like to grab a coffee?”

  Keeping the smile on his face, he said, “What do you want from me? To press your stinking flesh up against mine? You’re disgusting.” He made his smile wider. “You make me want to vomit. Or rip your limbs from your body and watch the blood flow. Or both. Rip you apart then vomit on your stinking corpse.”

  The pink makeup on her cheeks stood out starkly as her face paled, and she whirled away, heels clicking as she took off down the sidewalk, away from him.

  “Bye,” he called out. “Have a nice day!”

  He gritted his teeth as his smile fell away. He thought about the things he’d learned from the messenger spies, the ones who’d reported back to him about his family when he was still in the byways. Shep and the others had been engaging in sex with women they picked up in their city by the lake. The messengers gave horrible details, sweaty flesh grinding and slapping, orgasmic sounds. Allisto’s brother relished the filth of this world. Shep liked it here, no matter what he said. He liked the flesh. And he’d enjoyed it heartily while Allisto writhed in misery, trapped in the void. He ate and drank and fucked and laughed, never mourning, never missing Allisto or trying to save him. Celebrating that Allisto was no longer his burden.

  Rising to his feet, he stalked off down the sidewalk, having had enough of the bodies crowding the street. He pushed and shoved the ones that got in his way, moving faster, desperate to get back to the hotel and shower the smells off. Night would come soon. And he intended to go back and watch Shep’s house again. They couldn’t stay inside forever. They’d make a mistake.

  As he entered his room and tore his clothes off, he smiled at the promise of violence, screams of pain, and blood.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  “What were you thinking? Have you gone completely insane?” Aunt Betsy’s voice rose to a high pitch as she stared at Robin, who paced her living room floor, twirling a white tee shirt in her hand.

  “Well, obviously. That’s why I called you, to talk some sense into me. I’ve clearly come unhinged.”

  “Don’t be sarcastic, Robin.”

  “Oh, I’m quite serious. I’m unhinged. Doing stupid shit. Like I’m on this…self-destruction bender.”

  Betsy sat cross legged on Robin’s sofa, gauzy dress pooled around her thin legs. It was Robin’s day off, and she’d prepared lunch for them, though Betsy hadn’t touched her plate since Robin told her about Juris. Her pretty aunt had grown her hair in a bit, and wore it in short, blond pigtails. A scowl pinched her eyebrows. “But it’s Shep’s brother. He’s one of them!”

  Robin groaned and sat on the floor in front of her. “It wasn’t like you’d imagine. He didn’t do anything weird or try to feed me blood, he was normal. We talked for a really long time. Look, this is his tee shirt. He wears tee shirts! Like a guy!”

  “But he’s not a guy
. He’s a thing. And why are you carrying around his shirt?”

  Robin shook out the tee shirt, holding it up. “It’s just a prop to help me think.”

  “But there’s nothing to think about. You said he ended it, and thank heaven for that. Or I guess I shouldn’t thank heaven, they’ve obviously got middle management problems. It would be nice if they kept their minions on a leash. Stop!”

  Robin, who’d started to raise Juris’s shirt to her face, paused and looked sheepishly at her aunt.

  “Robin Duvaine, I swear to God, if you sniff that tee shirt I’m gonna beat your ass.”

  Shoulders slumping, she dropped the shirt. “But I liked him,” she whined.

  “I liked my brother, and his wife, and my nephew. They were murdered so those things could live.”

  “I know, okay? I know all that. I’m just saying, I think Juris is different. I’m not saying it’s right or moral or smart that I liked him. I just did.”

  Betsy grabbed her wine off the coffee table and took a gulp, letting out a sigh, her pigtails bobbing as she shook her head, then shook it again. “You liked Shep too and look where that got you. And what’s wrong with Patrick, huh? Patrick’s a nice guy. He’s cute! All those muscles.”

  Robin fell back onto the rug. “Patrick’s great. But I’m not in love with him.”

  “In love?” Betsy stood. “Oh no you don’t. Don’t you tell me...you are not to fall in love with another one of those monsters. Be thankful he didn’t infect you with his...stuff. You had great sex, Robin. That’s it. There will be no more pining over Shep’s brother, for crying out loud. What’s the matter with you? You used to be smart.”

  She sat up. “I used to think I had a human boyfriend, too. Things change. Now I’m stupid, but at least I know it.” She picked up her wine glass and brought it to her lips.

  “You didn’t...” Betsy made a blowjob gesture.

  The wine sprayed from Robin’s mouth as she laughed. “Of course not! I’m not that stupid, I’m not Kelinda.”