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

by Richard Parry

  “Right,” said Rex. “They probably won’t bomb it. But if they do, we won’t want to be in it.”

  “The car is shit,” said Sky. “I do not like the car.”

  “I think the car is a bad idea,” said Just James, nodding. “We should lose the car.”

  “We’re not losing the car,” said Sky. “The car pays for my rent. But for now, we should leave the car in a safe location and lock it.”

  “Before we lose the car—” said Rex.

  “Park the car,” said Sky.

  “Before we park the car, we need to work out where we’re going and how we’re going to get there. I don’t like this street.” Rex sniffed. “Don’t like it at all.”

  A helicopter thudded around the corner of a tall building, blades slamming against the air. Rex felt his eyes open, the sight of a chain of humans — God damn barrel of monkeys, is what it is — strung out below it. The helicopter wasn’t flying with the kind of precision he expected from the military, and as they watched a body fell from the side of it. It was hard to tell at this distance if it was man or woman as their arms pinwheeled during their fall. More of the people hanging from the underside were pulling themselves up into the helicopter. The note of the engine took on a desperate edge, and it started to cant to the side, tail section pulling sideways as it slewed through the air.

  “Get out of the car,” said Rex. “Get out of the car now.”

  “I thought you didn’t like this street,” said Just James.

  “I don’t like this street, but I don’t like what’s coming even more,” said Rex. He kicked open the door of the car, grabbing Just James by the arm and pulling the kid out. Sky was already moving, driver’s door punched open as she pulled herself out. Rex started to hustle James over to the side of the road towards the door of an old dry cleaner’s, the inside empty of people. He tossed a glance behind him, saw Sky vaulting the hood — nice ass — of the car, sliding off the edge and on to her feet. The helicopter was sliding out of the sky down the street, the machine now in a slow spin as it lost altitude. Rex pushed Just James inside the dry cleaner’s ahead of him, then turned to hold the door open for Sky. He saw she was headed back to the car, scrambling back over the hood. Definitely a nice ass. He shook himself “Hurry! Christ, girl, now’s not the time to stop for a quart of milk!”

  She leaned in the car, snaring something out. She broke into a sprint as the helicopter’s blades touched the asphalt of the street, the blades shearing off faster than Rex could follow. One of the blades tumbled end over end down the street, fragments of metal flying away before it bounced clear over the top of Sky’s car. She made it to the doorway of the dry cleaner’s, and Rex pulled the door shut behind her. “Go!”

  Just James was looking at them both, wide eyed. “Where?”

  “Doesn’t matter,” said Rex. “Towards the back.” He could feel his heart hammering in his chest, old bones resisting the pressure he was putting on them. He saw Just James disappear through a line of hanging suits, Sky following him. He reached the line of clothing as the world kicked his feet out from under him, the floor tossing him up. He felt the weightless rush of air going past his face, and for a moment — Christ, Rex, is this how it ends? — he felt at peace. Then the floor hit him in the face as he landed on it, the breath running out of him in a rush. He felt the impossible heat of something behind him, light and fire and smoke all mingling to jar at his senses. The air seemed to be sucked out of the room, pulling right from his very lungs.

  Get up, old man. Nothing worse than the gas explosion he’d taken a crew to. That job had been all barbecued bodies and fallen concrete, rebar poking out through chunks of building and people. Only real difference is he’d had a fire axe and an oxygen tank for company, and the damn tank had run dry anyway. Rex opened his eyes, coughing the smoke from his lungs, before getting a hand under himself. He levered himself — at least your damn bones aren’t popping, that or you’ve finally gone deaf or senile or both — up, allowing himself a quick look over his shoulder.

  The front of the dry cleaner’s was gone, glass blown clear of the frames. Where Sky’s car had been, there was nothing but fire and twisted metal. Rex couldn’t work out which bits were car and which bits were helicopter, but it probably didn’t much matter. That kind of thing was a job for insurance companies, men in cheap suits with expensive pens. Not firemen. He resisted the urge to check the wreckage. Ain’t no one there, Rex, and there’s people who need you alive right now.

  He touched something wet on his back, and his hand came away sticky and red. The glass from the windows had blown inward, and he’d caught a bunch of it in his back. It had been turned into a fine powder, almost like glitter. He hated glitter, there was that one wedding invitation he’d got full of the stuff. He’d been pulling glitter out of everything for weeks afterward, even found some in his shaving cream. How’s glitter get into shaving cream? That’s a thing, right there.

  “Rex,” said a woman’s voice. He let his gaze wander over towards the noise, saw a pretty young girl there. He couldn’t quite put his hand on her name right now.

  “Hi,” he said. “What do you call yourself again?”

  “Sky,” she said. “It’s me, Sky. Did you get hit on the head?”

  “I don’t think so,” said Rex. “I think I fell on my face.”

  “Same thing,” she said. “Come on. We’ve got to get moving.”

  “Where?” Rex blinked at her. “Say. Did you get what you went back to the car for?”

  “The taser?” She held it up. “I got it.”

  “That was dumb,” he said. Then, “I think I’m going to have a sit down, if that’s okay.”

  A kid — Just James, that’s his name, it’s Just James — poked his head out around some clothes. “Rex, are you okay?”

  “Pretty sure I’m not,” he said. “That’s okay. You kids head on out. I’ll be fine.” He felt the world sliding sideways, that damned ground coming up towards him again. He fought against the fall, for all the good it did. He was old and spent, but that was okay. It was nice to be needed again, and if he went out helping people, well, that’s the best way in the world. The ground hit him again but this time it felt soft and warm, the blackness welcome.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE

  “Hey.” The woman’s voice was familiar, the cold of the world giving her the breath of a dragon. It had been a long time since dragons had stood astride the surface of the Earth, the fierceness of their wars and lovemaking both making the ground tremble.

  She allowed herself to open her eyes, taking in arms cast in front of her in the snow. That can’t be right. Arms, hands, not claws. The weakness of this form invaded again, taking over her being, her thoughts, starving her of will and purpose.

  The color started to stain the world, the honesty of black and white fading with the clarity of her thoughts. There was another, someone else who wanted to come forward. It had a name, as if names made a difference.

  Please, said the other. We have a little girl. She’s all alone in this world. Let me go to her.

  Pack. That was all that mattered. She looked around, past the woman — tiny, frail — in front of her. She saw the black mechanism that had carried them here, built with all their puny strength. Fragile, it stood in the snow, a face plastered against the glass of its windows.

  Please, said the other, again. Don’t you remember? She’s our baby. She’s our Adalia.

  Adalia. She allowed her gaze to fall back on the woman in front of her, glanced down to see if there was a weapon hiding inside the woman’s jacket. She remembered the sting of its pellets, the fire of them yapping at her like small dogs. She felt the flash of anger hit her, wanted to reach out and—

  NO. The other pushed at her, her mind holding the will of the hurricane. She is not to be harmed. She is … she is Pack.

  Pack. A name formed, a concept hard to hold on to. Carlisle. Carlisle was one of pack. The Shield. The protector when … when…

  She�
��s the one who protects our baby, said the other, when you make it impossible. You take my will from me, and she stands against us when you would kill our little girl.

  Never. Never would we hurt Pack.

  Then you won’t hurt Carlisle. Give it back to me. Give me back my life.

  It is not your life to have. It is ours. And we have things that need to be done. The world is broken, corrupted and black at its core, the carcass rotting in this old sun.

  Give me back my life, said the other, and we can fix it together.

  She snarled. It’s not yours to have. It is mine.

  If it can’t be yours, and it can’t be mine, then it is ours, said Danny, and I will not have you hurt them.

  It is ours, she agreed. The other, this Danny, was strong, her will burning bright. She felt herself fading again, the feeble hands at the end of her arms feeling more natural, as if they belonged.

  Do you promise? That we will fix the world.

  I promise, said Danny. Our little girl lives in this world, and we’ll make it safe for her.

  Safe. Yes. Safe for Pack.

  • • •

  “Hey,” said Carlisle. She was crouched down, the snow crunchy underfoot, the chill of the air leaving her head dry and clear. She watched as Danny’s head came up, an edge to her movements that reminded Carlisle of a skittish animal. She watched the yellow eyes scan around, looking between Carlisle and the Yukon sitting behind them. Watched as Danny looked for her sidearm, and let a breath out she didn’t know she’d been holding as Danny’s eyes moved on, the yellow leeching away.

  “I—” Danny’s mouth moved around the word, as if it was unfamiliar. “Do you remember the dragons?”

  “No,” said Carlisle. “Also, what the fuck?”

  “I … I think I dreamed about them,” said Danny. The woman rubbed her bare arms, a circle melted in the snow around her. Heat was coming off her in waves, the air shimmering with it. Her eyes found Carlisle’s. “Did I hurt anyone?”

  She means, did I hurt her. “You didn’t hurt Adalia.” Carlisle looked back at the Yukon. “She’s fine.”

  “What about you?” Danny’s eyes were hooded, something desperate in her voice. “I don’t remember.”

  “I told you before.” Carlisle rocked back on her heels. “It’s going to take more than a werewolf to take me out. You’re all Hulk rage, no finesse.”

  The ghost of a smile landed on Danny’s lips. “Did she see?”

  Carlisle thought about that for a little while. How much do you tell her? What’s going to help her? What’s going to hurt? Your problem, Carlisle, is that you’re just no damn good at this shit. “I … she was there. She saw. Danny? I tried to get her out. I took her out to the damn car, I actually put her inside before I came back for that waste of oxygen, Ajay. And she came back inside.”

  “For you.”

  “No,” said Carlisle. “Yes. Hell, I don’t know. She’s a teenage girl. It’s been a long time since I was a teenage girl.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I understand more about nuclear physics than I do about the teenage girls of today.”

  “Me too,” said Danny. “She’s growing up too fast.”

  “All mothers say that.”

  “All mothers don’t kill people in front of their children,” said Danny, and something broke in her voice.

  With a pop of her knees — getting rusty on the inside — Carlisle stood up. “Well, that’s a bit shit, true. But what are you going to do?”

  “It’s more about what you’re going to do,” said Danny. She pulled herself into a sitting position, knees up to her chest, arms wrapped around. “Is it cold?”

  “It’s freezing,” said Carlisle. She nodded at a pile of clothes in the snow. “I pulled some of your clothes out.”

  Danny seemed to notice her own nakedness for the first time. “I’m … have we been having this entire conversation without clothes?”

  “I’ve got clothes,” said Carlisle. “For the record, I’m fully clothed. You’re the weirdo sitting in the snow, naked as a newborn baby.”

  “You haven’t answered my question,” said Danny, starting to pull some clothes on. A pair of old denim jeans. A woolen sweater.

  “I answered. I said it was cold.” Carlisle rubbed her arms, trying to get some warmth back.

  “I asked what you were going to do about Ajay.”

  “When the hell did you ask that?” Carlisle played the conversation back in her head. “You didn’t ask me anything about that. Did you get hit in the head, you know, before?”

  Danny gave her a flat stare, one leg poised over a pants leg. “It was implied. It’s girl talk.”

  “I’m not real good at girl talk,” said Carlisle.

  “Get better,” said Danny.

  “I want to kill him,” said Carlisle. “I … want him.”

  “Those are different things,” said Danny as she tugged her clothes straight. She ran a hand through her hair, perfect — the bitch — bouncy curls raining free. “How do I look?”

  “The good news is that if you ever get tired of running from your boyfriend and changing into a hideous beast, you’ve got a career made in modeling. You look like you just stepped out of a fucking salon,” said Carlisle. The idea of Ajay sat in her mind, a dangerous object like a grenade with a freshly pulled pin. We wouldn’t be here without him. We’d not be in this mess, but we’d also be in fucking Alaska, away from the people who need us. “I get they’re different things. He’s a little young. I don’t know. I guess I want to have sex with him.”

  “Is he in the car?”

  “He’s unconscious,” said Carlisle. “You threw him into a wall.”

  Danny looked at her feet. “I don’t remember that.”

  “It’s okay,” said Carlisle. “I’ve wanted to throw him into a wall before too. I think it’s his superpower.”

  “Okay,” said Danny. “Okay. Well. I remember … I remember something.”

  “What?” said Carlisle. “About throwing him into a wall?”

  “I remember why I threw him into a wall. I remember we started this trip with five people in the Yukon, and now we’ve got four. When we were sleeping on the drive from Alaska to here, one person in the car went … they went somewhere else, Melissa.” Something went hard in her eyes. “Let’s go wake him up.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTY

  Adalia sat in the Yukon, the heater whispering as the big car idled away some time in the snow. She watched her Mom and Carlisle talking outside. She spared a glance at Ajay — yup, still unconscious, being thrown into a wall will do that — laid out in the back seat. He doesn’t look so good. The man’s suit was rumpled, his skin a lighter shade, a hint of gray around his lips.

  “He’ll live,” said the boy.

  Adalia glanced around the cabin. There was no one else there. “Where are you?”

  “I’m … I’ve never had that happen before,” said his voice. “I don’t know where I am. It’s dark. It hurts.”

  “My mom hit you,” said Adalia. “I don’t think she meant to.”

  “She meant to,” he said. His voice seemed to come from everywhere around her. “It’s crowded in here. Did you know that? I can feel them.”

  “How was it that she could see you?”

  “I don’t know,” said the boy. “I think it was the Night.”

  “The what?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” he said. She could imagine him lowering his eyes as he said this, lashes black against his skin, and wished she could see him. “It’s what it’s called.”

  Adalia tried for a joke. “Is there a Dawn? A Day? Maybe a bunch of little Afternoons coming home from school?”

  His voice left the cabin for a moment, the sound of Ajay’s ragged breathing behind her overlaying the sound of the heater blowing warm air into the car. Then he said, “I don’t make up the names, okay? I don’t even know my own damn name.”

  “Sorry.”

  She felt his voice soften the air around her like a warm
mist. “No. I’m sorry. I told you to go in to the store.”

  “I—”

  “Wait. It was necessary. You need her to be the Shield. You’ll need it before the end.”

  “Why?” Adalia realized that was the wrong question. “Whose shield?” She could see her mom getting dressed in the snow outside, Carlisle and her in some conversation. The set of both of their shoulders said it wasn’t a conversation for kids.

  “Adalia,” he said, “your mom almost set me free. Do you understand? I was almost free of … all of this.”

  “What?”

  “You need to find my name,” he said. “Please.”

  Adalia sighed in frustration. “I don’t even know who you are,” she said. “I don’t even know what you are. I don’t know if you’re real.”

  “Yes you do,” he said. “You know all of those things. You know me, as I know you. We were born in different times, but that doesn’t stop us from being linked. Joined, across the Universe that spins around us.”

  Adalia looked down at her hands, realizing they were clenched in her lap. “I don’t know how to help you,” she said.

  “I do,” said Ajay, from behind. “I know how to help them all.”

  She felt the boy leave the cabin then, his presence blowing away like gossamer. She turned to face Ajay. “You made him leave.”

  “No,” said Ajay. “He will always be with you. Until you set him free.”

  “Free?” said Adalia. “How?”

  “It is—” Ajay was interrupted as the rear door was yanked open, her mom standing outside in the snow, her eyes wild.

  “Now,” said her mom, “tell me. Where the fuck is your friend?”

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-ONE

  It’s shit like this that had got Rex out of the job. It wasn’t getting tossed around like a Tinkertoy, or even landing face first on the floor. Hell, that happened on any day ending in Y. It was the waking up hurting, a full body hurt from your toes to the tips of your ears. Even his damn hair hurt.