Nightmare City: Book 1 Of The Nightmare City Series (Urban Fantasy)

by P. S. Newman

  "This shade of Greyson could be the one to convince a majority of the population that not all shades are dangerous. If we use this to our advantage, if we present this right, it could be a big step towards shade tolerance. Maybe even integration."

  It was SHAID’s ultimate goal: legalizing the integration of benevolent shades into society. David didn't say it, but the implication was clear. If this could be accomplished with Greyson's help, I could be with him. Legally. Openly. No hiding necessary.

  "That's a huge 'if'," I said.

  "Gigantic," David agreed.

  “Stupendous,” Aunt Vy added. “And stupendously stupid.”

  "I'm only asking you to think about it,” David continued, not having heard my sword. “A lot of people are looking for him right now. Someone's going to catch and eliminate him and then this chance, minimal as it is, will be gone."

  "Why do you figure I have a better chance of finding him?"

  "He's your shade. If anyone knows where to look for him, it's you."

  "I don't."

  “You should have lead with that, child,” Aunt Vy said. “Now it sounds like the excuse that it is.”

  The thunder of feet stomping down the stairs in an irregular rhythm stopped David from calling my bluff. Bella stormed into the kitchen and plunked herself down at the table. "Hi David," she said, before turning to me. "Go away."

  I was halfway out the door, listening to Aunt Vy trying to persuade Bella to take back her command, when I bumped into Cecelia.

  "Where are you going?" she asked.

  "Away," I said, for once not fighting Bella’s compulsion. "She doesn't want me here."

  Anger bunched Cecelia’s brows. She grabbed my arm. "Bella Maria Perez! Come here, por favor!”

  Bella knew better than to object when Cecelia three-named her and made the Spanish ‘please’ sound like 'or else'. She joined us in the hall, lips pursed in an impressive pout. "What?"

  My whole body still strained against Cecelia's grasp, but she held me back with an iron grip. “Reverse the compulsion and apologize to Eden. Now!”

  "But I'm not sorry. She ratted me out after I told her not to."

  "Exactly. She found a way to disregard your command. What does that tell you?"

  Bella crossed her arms in front of her chest and droned out a phrase she'd heard a million times before. "My safety and well-being were more crucial at that moment than my wishes."

  "Exactly, she was looking out for you. So what do you say?"

  "Thank you."

  "And?" Cecelia prompted. "Say it like you mean it."

  Bella looked at me. Her lips widened in a sugar-sweet smile. "I'm sorry."

  "And?"

  "Of course I want you to have dinner with us. I don't want you to go away." She turned on her heel and stormed back into the kitchen. The compulsion lifted. I stopped straining against Cecelia's hold. She let go of my arm.

  "Thanks," I said.

  "You okay?"

  "Fine. Just sick of needing a champion in these situations."

  If Cecelia was tired of it, too, she never showed it. "You know she loves you. That's why you ratting her out to me is such a big deal."

  "I know." It was also the reason I felt guilty despite doing the right thing.

  Cecelia frowned at me. "You're still not coming back in, are you?"

  "What are you, a detective?” I said. “I think I'll let her cool off a bit, now that it’s my decision to do so. Plus, there's something I need to do." Someone I needed to find. Someone who wouldn't try to garner favors or compel me to do things. “I just need to get Aunt Vy,” I added, heading back into the dining room to say goodbye.

  "Alright," Cecelia said, following me. "See you tomorrow?"

  "Of course.” I grabbed Vy off her chair and saluted in David and Bella’s direction with her hilt. David saluted back with a wink while Bella seemed engrossed in her empty dinner plate. I turned back to my best friend. “You're not getting rid of me that easily."

  "That's good." To my surprise, Cecelia pulled me in for a hug. "Good luck with your thing."

  “Thanks.” I would surely need it.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  “Don’t do this, child.”

  Once again, Aunt Vy’s voice was uncharacteristically gentle, instilling in me a twinge of guilt and ratcheting up the already significant amount of doubt tightening my chest. Which was exactly the response she was hoping for. She knew me so well. So I ignored her.

  “Turn around.”

  I stepped on the gas.

  “You know this is the wrong thing to do.”

  I turned up the access ramp and accelerated onto the interstate, merging into thick traffic.

  “Let the Order eliminate him.” Her voice was gaining insistence. “Then it can go back to being just a dream.”

  “But it’s not!” I couldn’t keep quiet any longer. “Grey’s real. And he’s being hunted. He needs my help.”

  “Grey, Grey, Grey. What about Bella and Cecelia?”

  “I’ll keep them out of this.”

  “How, child? By hiding him in the garden shed like an unsightly garden gnome? If I remember correctly, you didn’t much like that option for us two years ago.”

  “He could be…” How had David put it? “…the one to convince a majority of the population that not all shades are dangerous.”

  “Don’t pretend you’re doing this for anybody but yourself.”

  She was right, of course. Everything she said was right. But I just couldn’t let Greyson be hunted down like a wild dog. I’d created him. He was my responsibility. I finally well and truly knew how Bella felt about every single one of her shades. The shades I had taken away from her with sound reasoning to back me up, thinking I understood her feelings. I’d had no idea.

  “Let him go.” Aunt Vy’s voice was gentle again. Understanding. Patronizing.

  Something inside me snapped. “If you don’t stop talking to me like I’m two years old, I’m going to lock you in the basement and replace you with my spare sword,” I growled.

  Silence stretched like a rubber band for several long seconds. Guilt flooded me. I’d never threatened Aunt Vy like that; never used her dependence on me as blackmail. I opened my mouth to apologize with actual words, but she was faster.

  “Yes, Mistress.”

  I cringed. I had that coming. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. I would never lock you away like that.”

  “Of course.” Now her tone was neutral. Aunt Vy didn’t do neutral.

  “I really am sorry,” I repeated, sinking as much sincerity into it as I could.

  “Of course.”

  I felt like screaming at the van’s ceiling, but all I said was “okay then.” There was no response. Not that I’d been expecting one. I’d have to apologize again later when the hurt wasn’t quite so fresh. At least she wasn’t trying to talk me out of my plan to find Greyson anymore.

  I still had a forty-five-minute drive ahead of me, so I tried to reach Sean again from the road. If I didn't distract myself from my nervous anticipation, I would chew through the steering wheel in the slow evening rush-hour traffic. This time, Sean answered on the first ring.

  “Moon Walk,” he said. "Have you got news for me?"

  "I found your doppelgänger. But I’m sorry to report that he got away. He's... cunning."

  "Are you okay?"

  "I'm fine," I assured him, ignoring my still-throbbing shoulder. "But I need you to tell me more about the dream during which you created him."

  "I told you all I know. He attacked me, tried to kill me."

  "Your doppelgänger - who calls himself Sean 2.0, by the way - mentioned something about having a plan. Do you know what he’s talking about?"

  "A plan? What plan?"

  "I was hoping you'd know. He tried to blaze me to a crisp, allegedly to stop me so I wouldn't mess up his plan."

  "Did he know who you were?"

  "Yes. Do you remember anything about forming a plan in your dre
am? Or maybe a purpose?"

  "I don't remember a plan."

  "It was probably subconscious. If you think of something, anything, let me know. It could help catch him before he hurts anybody. He might have been hiding out at David's place to kill him." The more I thought about it, the more convinced I was.

  "Oh my God!" Sean exclaimed. "Do you really think he was trying to kill my brother?"

  "The question is, do you think that? If so, do I have permission to give David a heads-up? I know you're trying to keep this on the down-low, but if David's life is in danger and it makes Cecelia and Bella a target by extension... They should know."

  He sighed, long and heavy. "Yes. They need to know."

  He still hadn’t answered my question. With most other shades I would have let it slide. But this one seemed ready to put the people I loved in danger. I needed to be sure. "Do you think he’ll try to kill David?"

  "I don't know.” He sounded defeated. "I just don't know. David wasn’t part of my dream and neither was any sort of plan that I can remember. But better safe than sorry, right."

  "I'll let David and Lia know immediately."

  "No, this is my fault. My shade. My story to tell. I'll tell David. You just make sure you find that thing before it hurts anybody.”

  "I will.” Just as soon as I took care of something else.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  La Plaza Park and the historical Olivera Street with its Mexican-style market were crowded as usual. People lounged on stone benches beneath the ancient poplars that shaded most of the plaza around the gazebo. Nothing indicated that a bloodbath between hellhound shades and Order hunters had recently taken place. No speck of blood on the ground, not a single charred mark on the gazebo's gleaming banister. The Order's cleanup-crew had outdone themselves.

  I turned around and faced the six-lane intersection that framed the plaza. On the opposite side, an airy formation of palm trees swayed in the breeze in front of a long white building with a terra-cotta-roof – Union Station. Three large window arches in the side gave it the appearance of a church, with the largest arch forming the main entrance. To the right, a square bell tower rose above the rest of the building. A clock was built into two of its sides, above which square openings allowed a peek at the bells.

  I watched the tower and the surrounding rooftops for a while, hoping to catch a glimpse of a broad-shouldered shadow against the darkening sky. I tried to avoid this part of the city since my manifestation in this very spot. So had both Bella and Cecelia, though for different reasons. This was where they had lost their mother to a rampaging shade, which had also robbed Bella of the full use of her right leg. No wonder it still featured in her nightmares.

  “Why do you think he’ll be here?” Aunt Vy gave disdainful voice to the doubt churning inside me. It was the first thing she’d said since our disagreement.

  “Because we waited here for Bella to come and find us two years ago, remember?”

  “I remember perfectly. I also remember her giving you very specific instructions to do so just before we manifested. She even gave us a key for the door to the bell tower. In your dream, did you give Deynar a key?”

  The haughty tone of her voice set my teeth on edge. “No.” But if there was a place he would come to hide out, it had to be here. I may not have given him clear instructions in my dream, but I’d received them at the time. Maybe, from some subconscious part of my mind, I’d given Greyson the nudge to come here, too.

  I waited and watched the dark pink streaks of sky turn purple, then black. Still no sign of Greyson. He was either already in the tower, hadn't arrived yet, or never came here at all. Only one way to find out.

  I crossed the road, Aunt Vy once again quietly sulking in her sheath on my back, and followed a group of pedestrians into the station. Nothing had changed. Despite public buildings being more accessible than most private homes, Union Station remained undamaged by shades. Public transport didn't feature as much in peoples' subconscious as one might expect.

  The stone ceiling arched above a marble floor and wooden benches that gleamed like mahogany pews. The only thing missing to complete the illusion of worship of the place was the minister's lectern and - the bigger infraction - the silence. Voices, footsteps and children’s laughter echoed off the walls and floors in a cacophony of sound. Nobody whispered in this cathedral of transportation.

  I glanced around. None of the passengers were looking my way, but a security guard was ambling down the side aisle towards me, a frown on his face. I approached him and showed him my badge. His eyes widened in alarm.

  "I'm a private hunter tracking down a shade that might have taken refuge in the station," I told him.

  “Do we need to evacuate the station?”

  “That won’t be necessary. I’ll take care of it. I just need access to the bell tower. I think it may have climbed in over the roof." If anybody could climb first onto the stations roof and from there scale the walls of the bell tower, it would be Greyson.

  “Of course,” the guard said. “Right this way.”

  We slipped into a corridor that led to a heavy metal door. The guard pulled a set of keys off his belt and unlocked it. "Do you need backup?" he asked. He was a burly man, his eyes quick and sharp. I would have let him back me up if this had been an ordinary shade.

  "No thanks," I told him. "I can handle it."

  He nodded at the walkie-talkie on my hip. "That thing work?"

  We synchronized our radios to the same frequency. "There," he said, clipping his walkie-talkie to his chest pocket. "Now you can holler if you need help."

  "Thanks. Wish me luck."

  He mumbled something under his breath and returned to the main hall.

  I drew Aunt Vy as soon as I was alone. The blade slid out of the scabbard with an eager shinnng.

  “You could have told me you were here to kill him.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I’m not.”

  “Then why draw me now?”

  “Because I don’t intend to enter this stairwell unarmed. Greyson could be standing on the other side of that door, ready to defend himself.”

  I’d almost left Aunt Vy in the van, but I couldn’t predict how Greyson would react to seeing me or what state of mind he’d be in. I remembered a lot of confusion, uncertainty, and fear about the first few days after my manifestation. I had to assume he wasn’t faring any better and that he might attack me to defend himself. Going to him unarmed would have been stupid. I’d even strapped the Walther PPT to my waist. Just in case he managed to take my blade away. This was my Greyson, after all.

  I closed my hand around the knob and pushed the door open. Empty concrete greeted me as I slipped inside. I spotted a light switch and hit it just before the door clicked shut behind me. A dim bulb hanging from a cable in the ceiling illuminated the stairwell. Concrete stairs wound upwards, disappearing around the bend. I could only see a few steps ahead. Greyson - if he was there - would hear me coming up the stairs. I wasn’t going to try to sneak up on a hunted man. I took a deep breath, gathering courage. "Greyson?" I called upwards. "Are you there?"

  Nothing stirred. I waited one heartbeat, two, three. Anticipation and dread jittered through my stomach like electrified marbles. "Greyson?"

  Maybe he was sleeping. Or wounded. He'd looked unharmed on TV, but that had been hours ago. If he'd faced those hellhounds again, he might have been hurt. And he had been shot right after manifesting. Maybe he was bleeding to death up there. Maybe he had already bled out.

  I started up the steps, Aunt Vy silent and light in my hand. I lost all sense of direction on the winding staircase. Somewhere in the middle, I stopped and called up once more. "Greyson?"

  Still nothing.

  “Good, let’s go. He isn’t here.”

  I ignored my sword and carried on up. He either wasn't there, too weak to answer, or dead. Or waiting around the corner to ambush me. Coming around the bend, I found the last step at eye level. Eight more to go. Five. Three, two... "Gre
yson?"

  One.

  A shadow loomed in the doorway. Light caught on metal. I brought Vy up just in time, blocking the blade angling towards my throat. I ducked to the side and rammed my opponent with my shoulder. He went down, his sword striking the low-hanging bells before flying into a corner of the small chamber. A clear, high-pitched chime rang through the air. Before he could get up, I laid the tip of Aunt Vy against his neck, a gentle kiss of razor-edged steel. My gaze slid across gray-brown eyes, high cheekbones, full lips. My body screeched to a halt as if I'd run into a wall.

  I focused on that spot where blade met skin rather than on his face. It held too much power over me. Even without looking at him directly, I could tell that he appeared tired, battered, confused.

  "Elysia?" His voice was smooth and deep. It slid underneath my skin and wound its way around my heart like a warm breeze after being lost in a snow storm. "Elysia?"

  I grabbed Aunt Vy’s hilt tighter.

  “I can end this for you now!” she said. “Just let go of me and gravity will do the rest. I’ll slice right through his neck on my way down.”

  I couldn’t move.

  “Zee?”

  "No.” My voice was rough, toneless. "My name is Eden.”

  He blinked, trying to make sense of what I was telling him. "But you dreamed of me."

  “Yes, I did. But I’m Eden. Not Elysia.” Not anymore.

  "You're the spitting image of her," he insisted.

  "That’s because I dreamed I was her.”

  "Oh," he said. Hope fled with that single word. "I thought I'd finally found her."

  "You were looking for her?"

  "Always." He said it with such easy conviction that my heart dropped in my chest.

  "Do you love her?" I asked, my voice croaking out of my constricted throat. "Elysia?"

  “Why are you torturing yourself, child?” Aunt Vy interrupted, exasperated.

  I ignored her, transfixed by Greyson’s look of awe and uncertainty. "Do I love her? If you manifested me, you should know."

  He understood what had happened. Understood what he was. My eyes burned. Pity filled my heart, both for him and myself. I had finally found him and yet I felt more alone than ever. We stared at each other. I wanted to explore his dark eyes, fascinated by the gray around the pupils that grew into a dark chocolate brown toward the edges. My imagination had painted a beautiful, vivid picture.