House of Chaos

by K. R. Alexander

  I knew I was at the landing in a flash, also on my right, but I had to make a light or I’d break my neck in the next step. I hadn’t had time to cast even a weak light, still running, worn old leather clutched in my hand, when I crashed into a wolf.

  It took a second in the carnage of the crash, flying through the air, smashing onto the floor in a tangle of fur, to realize Adam had been coming for me. Growling in fact, his teeth snapping through my hair, inches from ripping my face off.

  I screamed bloody murder, shocked as well as terrified, and I think that was what saved my life. Adam sprang back as I fell, jarred from his Cujo trance by that sound and it being my voice.

  Someone was calling my name. I lit my hands with the feeble white glow, hardly as bright as a single candle flame, but the best I could muster. It wasn’t Adam talking to me. He stumbled away on his big white paws, dazed and blinking as if I shone a searchlight into his eyes.

  “Ripley!” Gideon’s voice as he yanked open the door that I’d landed beside. It was the bathroom door.

  Even in my little light, I could see that the wood had been viciously torn as if a bear had been trying to break it down. Gideon stood there, both arms streaming fresh blood. He’d pulled off his shirt to wrap up one of them, the other badly bitten and swollen.

  While Xaphan and I had been swapping yarns, Adam had tried to kill Gideon and made him lock himself in the bathroom. Well … they were even now.

  Gideon started to rush out to help me—which was kind of pathetic considering how he looked—but stopped at sight of Adam.

  I was already up. “Come on! Fast! He’s fine. Where are the others?”

  “Gone.” Gideon ran after me.

  Adam charged ahead, paws crashing down the stairs.

  “Gone, like, not in the house?”

  “Gone with the car.”

  What?

  I didn’t ask. At least they weren’t here and that meant we didn’t have to be either.

  As we reached the foyer, the front door burst into flames. The wolves sprang back.

  I could hardly get it open with magic, but just managed, gasping, light dying, grabbing and heaving the deadbolt at the same time. Gideon started forward to help then. Just as we threw it wide, a chasm opened at our feet, black and bottomless.

  I ran right over it, almost laughing. “Is that the best you can do?!”

  Gideon took the stairs three at a time. Adam jumped the entire flight, straight into the weeds like one of those dock-diving dogs without the water. No question about him being able to change and drive or get his clothes in the field. He took off like he ran on diesel, not bothering about the driveway, cutting straight across the field, heading west.

  Even a normal wild timber wolf can run at almost forty miles an hour. It’s a good thing no one ever clocked Adam.

  The Volvo was indeed gone.

  “You can’t drive—” I started.

  “I’m fine.” Gideon already had his keys in his blood-covered hand as we ran for his bike with something screaming behind us, a rising sound of rage and pain like breaking glass on the ears.

  Gideon threw himself onto the Harley and had the engine roaring by the time I’d heaved my leg over. With both arms around his abs as we launched out of there, gravel spraying behind, my right hand was still clamped tight on that book.

  21

  I made Gideon stop, calling in his ear—no helmet for either—at the curve by the rusty barbed-wire fence out on Old Mill Road. As the crow flies, Adam should be coming through those junipers, over the fence, and across the road if he meant to keep heading for my place. But was he okay? Were we being followed? And did he know the way?

  Gideon skidded the motorcycle to a halt, sliding the rear tire around and throwing me sideways so I thought I was coming off that thing. I held on, engine still rumbling, headlight blazing into the junipers, as Gideon put down one booted foot. We watched, straining our eyes through darkness.

  He smelled of the outdoors and sweat and blood. My arms were sticky with blood where they wrapped around his bare middle, though I hadn’t touched his arms. I was trembling, hardly aware of it, wanting to lean in more, press my face to his skin. I held back, watching for Adam.

  It took only seconds. A glint of two yellow orbs, then the motion of him, white fur flashing along just beyond the headlight, off to the left.

  Gideon kicked off the bike, turning us again.

  The wolf belted out of the junipers, never checking stride, he cleared the fence like a deer, hit the shoulder of the road, crossed it in a stride, and kept going across the next cow field.

  By the time he was away, Gideon was gunning the engine. We’d hardly started when we were shooting past a car going the other way. That was weird. Midway City had zero midnight traffic. Last guy going home from First Chance?

  They slammed on their brakes. I looked around.

  “It’s them! That’s my car!”

  “They saw us!”

  Sure enough, as we whipped away, I spotted the first motions of the car hitting reverse, turning around to follow us home.

  They’d come back. Then why had they left in the first place? What happened? Asking in the noise was impossible. I just held onto the six-pack and book.

  We’d driven to the mansion from the old farmhouse with the cats, yet both the wolves, despite being strangers to the area, knew exactly how to get home to my place. Going about eighty miles an hour in a thirty-five zone, leaving the Volvo in the dust, Gideon was there in minutes, prudently slowing the bike to a hobble to negotiate on the lawn instead of tackling the tree-root driveway.

  He put a foot down again, struggled to hit the kickstand, and slumped forward against handlebars and dash. How much blood had he lost? Or the energy drain? It could be either one messing with him.

  I scrambled off, tripping as my foot caught the saddlebags—it was a freaking big motorcycle, SUV of bikes—and ended up crashing flat on my face. Lucky he was in the yard.

  “Ripley?”

  “Just tripped.” I panted, turning to sit in the grass, diary clutched to my chest, knees still shaking so much I didn’t make any foolhardy scramble to get up. “What’s happening? Are the other three in my car? Why?”

  Wade’s blue Corvette was still parked beside the carport. There were a few lights on in the house, none exterior, but that was how I’d left it since none outside worked.

  Gideon shook his head as he staggered from the motorcycle. “Wade was in a bad way… Really bad. He wanted to follow you in but couldn’t even stand. That fox came back into the house with the rest of us but went berserk and started biting everyone.” Gideon held onto the bike for support.

  “Inside,” I mumbled, struggling to my knees. “Have to do something about those wounds.”

  “Key?”

  “Oh… Shit…” I sank back. The house key was on my keyring in the Volvo. I looked around.

  Way, way down the county road, here came headlights.

  “They’ll be here in a minute,” I said, feeling more and more weak and thick-tongued, ready to faint even sitting down. “So you threw Vel out?”

  “The vampire caught him. He has a way with foxes.”

  I could imagine Fulco grabbing Vel by the scruff of the neck and swinging him through the air when Vel made a dive for him, Vel screaming all the time.

  “Told him to take the squalling varmint and get out,” Gideon continued. “Needed those two around as much as a toothache while we were trying to get you clear of there. So he did. Next thing we knew, we heard the engine start. Must have stuffed the fox in the trunk. We didn’t know he’d grab your keys and get out that much. We went after you…”

  Gideon wiped his brow with bloody fingers. “Had trouble getting up the stairs. They wouldn’t ever end. Must’ve climbed for ten minutes. Then we get up there and can’t figure out where you are, getting turned around. Rooms in funny places. Next thing I know, Adam’s going for me. Like a rabid lion in a flock of sheep. He was a fucking cyclone—co
uldn’t get him to back down. Don’t know how long I’d been pinned in there when you came along. I kept thinking maybe just change, fight him back. Only, how would that end? And what if the madness got me next? What if I did find you but I was like him? So I didn’t change and then … there you were. What happened? Did that thing hurt you?” The question was tight as his muscles. Having taken a long time to ask. Like he didn’t want to know.

  “No.” I hurried to reassure him. “He wanted to. He spent so much energy on showing off for us, and talking to me, everything all night, he didn’t have much left. With a little time, I was able to get past him and get out. I’m scared, though… We have to stop him. If we wait for him to recover all his strength and then go back…” I gulped down the shame in my own admission.

  The car was pulling up the bouncy drive.

  Gideon nodded. “Go back another time and he’s starting over in a fresh fight.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Only we’ve no strength to get back now. Never mind him.”

  “I know. I don’t think there’s a way around it.”

  “What about him following here? Can they do that?”

  I swallowed, didn’t want to answer. It seemed like a really good idea not to, in fact. Gideon was waiting. “I… Maybe not when he’s weak like now.” I turned my attention to the Volvo. “I hope…”

  Fulco had already shut off the lights. He killed the engine and climbed out.

  Vel, still furry, burst past the vampire and ran at me like an excited little dog. I was startled, and more than a little apprehensive about being bitten. He just jumped into my lap, panting and wagging his long tail, squeaking like a toy. I got up from the grass and held my hand out to Fulco as he seemed to be meaning to keep his distance.

  “Keys. How is Wade?”

  “I could only speculate,” was the cold answer. “Have you not checked on Mr. Marshall?”

  “Checked on him? Isn’t he with you?”

  “Your friend is inside.” Fulco dropped the keys in my hand and stepped back as if not wanting to catch anything from me.

  “Wait, what? You came here to drop him off?”

  “One was useless and one was raving. It seemed prudent to get them away. Once away, it seemed prudent to bring them here.”

  “How did you even know how to get here?”

  “The mage was not unconscious. Although he might be now.”

  “Thanks for bringing him in. And for coming back for us. I wouldn’t have thought you had it in you.”

  “He is merely inside the door.” Fulco kept edging away, already back to the car and apparently intending to walk home. It wasn’t far. Still, I felt like I should offer a lift. My knees thought differently. “The best one can manage in such an environment.”

  “You dumped him in the foyer? What are you talking about?” I should be hurrying Gideon inside to do something about the bleeding.

  “This house,” Fulco said.

  “What about it?”

  “Your wards. Or were they your parents’?”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Then you might be interested to know that this house is warded and enchanted against outside interference or any undead intrusion.”

  Mouth open, brain buzzing, I just stared at him. Holy crap. I hadn’t the faintest idea. Besides, I wouldn’t know the magic to do something like that if my life depended on it. But most of all, thank you, Mom and Dad.

  “That’s frickin’ awesome,” I told Fulco.

  “A matter of opinion.”

  “So you couldn’t go in the house?”

  “I could not. It creates a ringing in the ears even here.”

  “Wow. Thanks, Fulco. We’ll see you. Tomorrow night … I guess.”

  “Hmm.” He started to turn away.

  “You didn’t bite Wade or anything, did you?”

  “I honored my agreement. Anyway, he is too repulsive to bite.”

  Which led me to inhaling the wrong way and coughing. “Repulsive? Excuse me? He’s gorgeous.”

  Fulco curled his lip. “His skin reminds one of an ice cream cone left out in the sun, full of soft-serve vanilla.”

  “Well, I mean, he’s a bit pale. You’re not exactly tanned yourself.” I think Fulco was of Latin American heritage, like Vel, but his complexion was nevertheless faded.

  “I, however, am deceased and my blood has coagulated and grown cold. He is merely repulsive.”

  “Dude, you’re not using that word right. Like, maybe ‘pasty’ or ‘unappetizing’?”

  “Repulsive, repugnant, loathsome, and foul, Miss Ahearne. Correlating with the rest of you. Good night.”

  “Yeah. Nice chatting with you…” I hurried for the door.

  22

  It wasn’t locked, come to find out, and Gideon was already opening it. Vel followed him, craning his neck for a sniff while he remained out of kicking range. He was still wagging his tail as Gideon’s blood dotted the front steps.

  Wade lay on the floor in the sitting room on a drop cloth. Blue, silky and solid black, was curled up on his stomach. Pickles, a tabby, darted from Wade’s side to greet us and yowl as soon as the door opened.

  “Wade?”

  “Ripley?” He tried to sit up. “You’re okay?”

  “I’m fine. You’re the one who came off worst. How do you feel?”

  He only nodded, dazed, and I wasn’t sure he’d followed the question.

  “I’ll be with you in a minute. Gideon’s hurt.” I ushered Gideon forward. “Kitchen. We need to wash those arms.”

  At sight of the fox coming in with us, Pickles was, for once, thrown off his stride. Not as much as he should have been. He sort of puffed up and stared while Vel trotted past. Blue wasn’t taking any chances with visiting wildlife. He ran silently for cover, no questions asked.

  I rushed into the kitchen, dropped keys and diary on the island, grabbed the chair at the built-in desk, and yanked it over in front of the sink.

  “Sit. We’ll get those washed out and see—”

  But Gideon was shaking his head, even as he did sit, chin tipped down. He looked ten times worse in the light of the kitchen, blood drained from his face, while it coated his arms and bare chest, right down to his boots. One of the bites reached all the way to his shoulder. The punctures were deep, already massively swollen, but the gashes were much worse—chunks of skin torn wide open where fangs had sunk in, then ripped back.

  “Have to change,” he said thickly. “Change and rest. Be all right…”

  “Okay… Then … what do you need?”

  He leaned his good shoulder into the counter, swaying in the chair. “Adam. Might be good to have help with the change.”

  “He’ll be here any minute. Here—” I grabbed kitchen towels, wrapping up both his arms, then filled a glass to help him with a long drink of water before dashing for the hall.

  “Sing for him.”

  I looked around. “What?”

  “For Adam. Howl. Think you can howl like a wolf? He’ll hear you.”

  I nodded and ran out to the front yard.

  The house was enough out in the countryside that you could only see a few distant lights from neighboring houses looking in any direction. With slightly rolling and occasionally wooded landscape, Midway City proper was totally out of sight even in daylight.

  I listened to the deeply quiet night, unsettling hush after getting used to Atlanta. Then cupped my hands around my mouth and tried a long wolf howl. It didn’t exactly roll off the tongue. I tried again—that one better.

  A neighbor dog barked out in his pen a quarter of a mile away.

  Nothing had happened to Adam, had it? Caught? Somehow stopped?

  No, there he was, a pale form charging up the slight hill by moonlight.

  More relieved than I’d expected that we were all here, back together, I grinned as he loped up and mobbed me.

  Adam jumped around, spinning his tail, slapping his paws to the ground, mouth open on
big, panting gulps of air.

  “Proud of yourself?” I laughed, also breathless. “Totally record time. We’ve only been here a few minutes.” I held my hand out to him and he gave me five. “Gideon needs your help. He wants to transform but … I don’t know. Maybe he’s too hurt.”

  We hurried in and I locked the door with an epic sense of relief after what Fulco had just told me.

  Wade was sitting up, looking more alert, but didn’t seem able to progress more than that.

  I left Adam with Gideon, hoping he could help. First, though, I yanked Vel off the kitchen island. He was eating ripening plums straight out of the fruit bowl, chomp-chomping with his little dagger teeth, while bits of plum and a fountain of juice splashed over the other plums, apples, and a bunch of bananas.

  “Other people eat out of there.” I grabbed him around the middle.

  Vel screamed like I’d stuck him with a hot poker, seizing another plum in snapping jaws before he was whisked off the countertop and born away down the hall. He was lucky I didn’t grab him by his scruff the way his vampire pal did.

  The instant I dropped him in the sitting room, he snarfed down the plum, spewing sticky juice and bits of plum and pit all over plaster dust and wallpaper peelings. He still gurgled and grumbled, making the strangest noises—like he thought I’d try to yank plum from his mouth.

  I sank down on my knees next to Wade, facing him, watching his eyes. “Rough night, eh?”

  “Maybe I had the easiest night of any of you.” He was chagrined, pale cheeks flushing as he dropped his gaze.

  “Vel!”

  The fox’s furry pads and sharp claws skidded as he dashed back to the kitchen.

  “Dammit…” I glared after him. “I don’t know why I bother. The wolves are the ones who got the food. I’d think he’d at least be afraid of them.”

  “He’s just hungry. Seems like he’s had a scrappy life.”

  “Never heard of a ‘scrappy life,’ but I guess so.”

  He met my eyes, taking my hand at the same time. “I was so scared when he pulled you into that house. You’re really okay?” His eyes were clear, dilating normally, only looking exhausted. Did he even realize he’d been so energy drained he’d appeared dead?