The Night's Champion Collection: A supernatural werewolf thriller trilogy

by Richard Parry

  “Hey,” he said, realizing the loss of his prize that half second after it was gone.

  “Too slow,” she said around a mouthful of brioche, but her eyes were soft as she looked at John. “You didn’t like it.” Val didn’t remember anyone ever looking at John like that. He deserves it.

  “I didn’t say that,” said John, the Miles Megawatt Smile gone in favor of something softer, more honest. “I was thinking I wasn’t going to eat it.”

  “You were going to eat it,” said Val, “and then you were going to eat another one. Same as yesterday.”

  “I had two yesterday?”

  “You had four,” said Sky, leaning back but still touching John. “Two at breakfast, and—”

  “Four?” said Val. “The Force is strong with your stomach.” He leaned forward over the counter, the coffee jug in his hand. Sky nodded, lifting her cup. The smell of cinnamon and chocolate touched air already heavy with fresh coffee and baking.

  “Is this some kind of revenge kick?” John took a bite from his brioche, then put it down. “For all those years you were fat. Carbs don’t like me.”

  “Val was fat?” Sky looked Val up and down. “What, when you were born?”

  “Think of it like carb loading,” said Val. Watching Sky and John made him miss Danny, but he kept it from his face. He hoped. “I dunno. Five years?”

  “It’s good hangover food,” said Sky. She combed her hair with her fingers, then shook it out. “Mostly because everything is good hangover food. I need to get to work.”

  “Stay,” said John, “and get fat.”

  “I’d rather go,” she said, “so we can make rent.”

  “We can make rent,” said Val, pulling some grungy notes out of his pocket. “I made a little money last night.” He tossed the bills onto the counter. “If you’d rather, you know. Get fat. Or … something.”

  “Dirtiest thing on planet Earth,” said John, picking through the pile with a finger. “Holy shit. There’s a couple Ben Franklins in here.”

  “Big tipper,” said Val. “Restored my faith in humanity.”

  “I still got to work,” said Sky, “even if you get to sleep all day.” She kissed John on the cheek then flounced off towards the bathroom. The door closed, followed by the sound of running water.

  “So,” said John, turning his coffee cup around. “How did the night really go? And I don’t mean in some vague, ‘Oh I got a couple of C-notes from a random stranger,’ way, I mean—”

  “I know what you mean,” said Val. He turned his coffee around in his hand. “Honestly? I got no idea.”

  “That bad?”

  “I guess,” said Val. He picked up the remote, flicking the TV on, an NBC logo sitting in the corner. The news anchor was talking about a traffic jam — how is that news? — and he tossed the remote back on the counter. “It’s never good when I wake up naked.”

  “Be serious,” said John. “Sometimes that’s good. When I wake up naked, the party’s usually in full swing. Orgies don’t start themselves.”

  Val smiled, but he couldn’t put any heart in it. “I’m just trying…” He trailed off.

  John leaned forward, slapping him on the shoulder, then stole another brioche. “You’re trying to make a difference. I know. We’ve had this talk.”

  “Yeah.”

  “For the record, I’m not a fan,” said John. “You’ll get yourself killed.”

  “If only it were that easy,” said Val. I’ve tried. God help me, but—

  “Hey,” said John. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing,” said Val. “So, what did you two get up to last night?”

  “Oh you know,” said John, around a mouthful of pastry. “Few beers. Just my birthday.”

  “Christ, again?” Val grinned. “You have one of those every year?”

  “Some of us still get older,” said John. “And this is serious, okay, so — just listen. Last night, she—”

  “Sky?”

  “The very same,” said John. “She says to me, ‘I’m so glad you’ve got younger friends.’ She meant you and Danny.”

  “Probably Carlisle too,” said Val. “She’s in good shape.”

  “Have you been told to get fucked today?” John looked down at his chest, then back up. “I mean, it’s all still in perfect working order.”

  “I did warn you about the younger woman thing,” said Val. “Not my fault if your dick got in the way of the conversation.”

  “You were talking to my dick?”

  “I really think I was,” said Val. His eyes flicked to the bathroom door, checking—

  She has not hunted with Pack.

  —that Sky was still out of earshot. “She’s … you know.”

  John put his elbows on the counter top. “She’s what?”

  “It’s nothing,” said Val.

  “Tell me.”

  “She makes you less of a complete tool,” said Val. He shrugged, grinning. “Hey! You asked me to tell you.” And she completes you. In a way no one else has, not that I’ve seen. It’s good to see you smile … for real.

  “Let me be the first,” said John, “to say — on this fine morning, sir — to get fucked.”

  Val felt the grin slip from his face as something on the TV caught his attention. He grabbed at the remote and thumbed up the volume. The anchor’s face was calm, her pumped hair — a thing of engineered beauty — somehow at odds with her serious tone.

  “We go live now to the scene. Younger viewers are advised to take special care. Tony? Tony, can you tell me what’s going on?”

  “Sure, Zambolina. It’s like a war zone here in down town Chicago. The police have cordoned off the area and aren’t letting us close. Are you getting these pictures?”

  “Yes, Tony. What are we looking at?”

  “I think it’s bits … well, I think it’s bodies. Rumors are circulating of a gang-style massacre, five or more people left dead at the scene. We’re trying—”

  The TV clicked off, and John tossed the remote back on the counter. “It’s not going to make a difference if you beat yourself up.”

  Val swallowed. “Did they say five?”

  “They weren’t super specific,” said John. “Look. It doesn’t matter.”

  “It matters,” said Val, picking up the remote. He clicked the TV back on.

  “…Other news, a local hero of the downtown Chicago district was caught on camera as he pulled a man from the burning wreckage of this car. These images show—”

  “Hey,” said John. “It’s you. You’re on TV. Kinda.”

  Val rubbed his face with his hand. “This is why superheroes wear masks.”

  “The good news,” said John, stepping closer to the TV, “is that with all the smoke and flames, it’s hard to tell it’s you.”

  “How hard?”

  “Pretty hard,” said John. “You’re barely recognizable. Basically just some anonymous stranger, helping his fellow man.” John leaned forward a little more. “Are you … are you wearing one of my T-shirts?”

  “I can’t remember,” said Val. He turned the volume up.

  “—Rex. I keep telling the cops I can’t remember. I came through the intersection, got banged up pretty good I guess. The funny thing is—“

  “Hey,” said Sky, from the bathroom door. “Is that Val on TV?”

  “No,” said Val and John together. Val looked down at the plate of brioche stacked in front of him. “We were just saying he looks a little like me.”

  “Yeah, I can see why,” said Sky. “He maybe looks like you, but his eyes are all weird.” She turned away, toweling her hair as she walked towards the bedroom she shared with John. That was close. She doesn’t know, she shouldn’t know … too many people carry the burden of my secret already.

  “One thing that’s been bugging me,” said John, flicking the TV off again, “is what’s in the case.”

  “The case?” Val blinked.

  John jerked a thumb over towards the windows
lining the outside wall of the apartment. “That case. Over there.”

  The alley was close around him, the taste of delicious copper in his mouth. He reached out with a massive hand, lifting up the tiny thing of metal.

  John snapped his fingers in front of Val. “Hey. Buddy. You still with me? You kind of zoned out there for a minute.”

  Val blinked again. “I … sure. I don’t really remember.”

  “I see,” said John. “Thing is, you don’t usually go in for souvenirs.”

  “No,” said Val. “I think we should get rid of it.”

  “Why? Let’s take a peek.” John was walking towards the case.

  “Because,” said Val, “he wanted to bring it back.”

  John froze in his steps, then tossed a look over his shoulder. “You sure?”

  “No,” said Val. He looked at the case, tipping his head a little as he tried to remember. The memories of last night felt so far away—

  One of them grabbed the case, making a break for it on those tiny, spindly legs. So weak. He loped easy and slow next to the creature, then backhanded it across the alley. The shiny metal thing spun free, clattering against the wall. He reached to pick it up, then felt the hot spark of pain as something barked, harsh and loud. He turned towards another one of them pointing something small at him. He snarled with savage joy. The end of these creatures was always delicious.

  “Okay,” said Val, “yeah I’m sure. He brought it back.”

  “How’d he get in here?” said John.

  “Maybe you need to set up a webcam,” said Val.

  “A webcam for what?” said Sky, coming back out of the bedroom. She had a suit jacket on over comfortable pants. She looked at John, her voice softening. “How do I look?”

  “Like I’m the luckiest man alive,” said John, his eyes stuck to her. “Like a million bucks.”

  The corners of her eyes creased into the smile, and she leaned forward to kiss him, her lips lingering. “Don’t be late,” she said.

  “I won’t,” said John.

  The door slammed behind her as she left. Val looked after her, then back to John. “Late for what?”

  “My party,” said John.

  “You did that last night.”

  “No,” said John. “We had drinks last night. Tonight we’re having a party. You know how I know that?”

  “Lay it on me.”

  “Because you’re going to be there.” John reached down for the case, hefting it. “It’s pretty light.”

  “So I see,” said Val. “Let’s toss it in a dumpster and call it even.”

  “Let’s open it,” said John, “and be rich. It’s got to have money in it.”

  “How you figure that?” Val looked at the case. “You have a very fertile imagination.”

  “Easy,” said John. “Any movie with a metal case? It’s got money in it.”

  “Or nuclear launch codes, or heroin, or something that wants to eat your face.” Val frowned. “The eat-your-face thing I can probably deal with. I’d like another coffee first.”

  “I’ve seen all those movies,” said John, “and I’m telling you, there’s money in this one. I can feel it.”

  “Maybe,” said Val. “Bit of a moot point though. It’s locked, right?”

  “Always with the problems,” said John. “I’m going to grab a shower then I’ll show you how we get it open.”

  “I can’t wait,” said Val. But he couldn’t help but wonder—

  They fought to save it and paid with their lives.

  —whether it was something they should open at all.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

  “What I’m telling you,” said Carlisle’s voice, small and distant, “is that they’re on to us.”

  “They can’t be on to us,” said Danny. “We’re in Alaska. Wait.” She thought she caught a noise, something that could have been the crump of a footstep in snow.

  “Wait for what?”

  She held the phone away from her head, then put it back to her ear. “Who the hell are ‘they’?”

  “No clue,” said Carlisle. “They’re assholes, though.”

  Danny glanced at Adalia, asleep on the couch. The fire had burned low, and she was trying to keep her voice down. “There’s a problem.”

  “Just the one?” Carlisle coughed a sound like a laugh. “Hit me.”

  “You’ve got our truck.” Danny looked around the room, her eyes picking out the details despite the low light. “You took the damn truck, and we’re in a log cabin in the woods. I can’t just catch a bus.”

  “I get that,” said Carlisle. “It’s just that…”

  Danny heard something catch in the other woman’s voice, and she—

  Fear. Shame. Pain.

  —paused for a second, then said, “Carlisle?”

  “Yeah?”

  “What did they do?” Danny licked her lips. “What did they say to you?”

  The line hissed and crackled for a moment, and Danny caught the sound of something that might have been Carlisle shifting gears. “They didn’t say anything to me,” said Carlisle. “They didn’t do anything to me.”

  “Okay,” said Danny. “It’s just that—”

  They hunt us, and we are not for hunting.

  “—hell,” she said. “Hell.”

  “I know,” said Carlisle. “You know, the truck thing…”

  “Yeah?”

  “I figured you could give Adalia a ride. You know. Because you’re like a big horse. If horses had claws, and—”

  “It doesn’t work like that,” said Danny, but her lips pulled into a smile. Her eyes flicked to the couch where Adalia lay. “It can’t … it’s not an option.”

  “Sure it is,” said Carlisle.

  “People … it doesn’t always turn out for the best,” said Danny.

  “Girlfriend,” said Carlisle, “this situation is so far off the scale from ‘best’ that we’re in a whole new land. Uncharted territory, even for us.”

  Danny reached a hand down to Adalia’s head, stroking her daughter’s hair. “What … what did you see?”

  “I saw—”

  Danny heard a crack from outside and cut Carlisle off. “I’m going to have to call you back.”

  “Sure,” said Carlisle. “Sure. And if you can’t—”

  “Really. I’ll call you right back,” said Danny, and clicked the phone off. She put it down on the small table, the phone scuffing across the old, uneven surface. She reached a hand down, her fingertips feeling the wood, the age of it, the memories in it. Her hand tapped the wood once, twice, and then she turned to the door, her face gone hard and cold like the night outside.

  Her feet took her to the door without conscious thought, and she leaned against the wood, the feel of it rough against her skin. She listened, her ears straining, for the sound she thought she’d heard before. Her hand touched the knob, held it, then with a twist of her wrist she jerked it open and stepped out into the dark. The door clicked shut behind her, Adalia murmuring in her sleep. She left her daughter with the fire, the warmth, and its meager light.

  The Night is for hunting.

  • • •

  Danny’s strides took her down the porch in two smooth steps, and she loped into the night. Her eyes picked out the trees, black and white against the stars, but it was her ears, her hearing—

  Three.

  —that was most improved since everything had … changed. She was always aware, always hearing those sounds around her, like a … what had her Valentine called it?

  Spider Sense. We’re like Jedi superhero rock stars with unlimited cocaine.

  The memory of his face made her breath catch. Focus. She moved on whisper soft feet around the cabin, the smoke from the chimney rising into the night sky, the smell of it reaching her nose, tickling the back of her throat. On a whim, she grabbed at the ridges of wood that made up the wall of the log cabin, and pulled herself up, quick and easy, onto the roof. She padded across to the rear of the cabin, looki
ng down on a man.

  He was dressed in white, and should have been hard to pick out against the snow. He held something small and hard in both hands, a weapon of some kind. It didn’t look like a gun. It wouldn’t have mattered if it was. She lifted her face to the night sky, and sniffed. No—

  Poisonous, burning.

  —silver that she could smell. Danny grabbed at the edge of the roof, swinging herself down, and landing on the man with both feet. He let out a small noise like the sound of a pillow being plumped as he dropped into the snow. She snared the weapon he carried, holding it up. Danny wasn’t an expert in weapons, not before the change, and not since, but she felt the heft of it, fingered the firing stud. She knew the taser for what it was.

  It didn’t make any sense. Tasers didn’t work on her. Not really.

  She scampered around the side of the cabin, coming up behind the second man. He was also in white. She let her feet pull her close behind him, then leaned forward so her face was almost at the back of his neck. “Hey.”

  The man jumped, a small yell — almost a scream — coming from him. He spun around, firing his taser, the shot going wide as she leaned out of the way. Her hands came up and batted the weapon from him, then she reached forward with one hand and grabbed the front of his jacket, lifting him off the ground.

  His arms and legs flailed. Danny waited for a couple heartbeats, then gave the man a shake. “Hey. Cut it out.”

  She could see his eyes through the goggles he wore. Dark skin, brown eyes, wide with fear. She saw him nod, the movement on the edge of frantic.

  “You’re here for me, aren’t you?”

  A nod. Yes.

  “And you’re here for her. Me and my daughter.”

  A pause, then another nod.

  Pup!

  “That’s too bad,” she said, a snarl twisting her face. She slammed the man into the wall of the cabin beside her then tossed him aside, not waiting to watch as he slumped to the snow.

  Danny was off at a sprint, closing the distance to the porch where she’d exited the cabin. She rounded the corner of the cabin, the porch coming into view, and saw the back of a white jacket as the door started to close behind him. The ground under her was icy, and she slid. One hand down in the—