Smoke (The Slayer Chronicles Book 1)

by Val St. Crowe

  “That’s right,” I said. “And now he’s outside the hotel, and when I don’t show up back there with the arrowhead soon, I have a feeling he’s going to be pissed off.”

  Naelen took a deep breath. “Okay.”

  “Like I said, I’m sorry,” I said.

  “Well, what do we do?” he asked me. “You always figure out our next move. You’ve got to figure it out this time. Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it.”

  “Well, I could go back down there wearing the arrowhead and pretend to be under his compulsion and try to kill him, I guess. Or…” I cocked my head at him. “Can you shift and then burn him? If you were in dragon form, there’s no way he could take you.”

  “He could compel me, though.”

  “No,” I said. “Not if you had the arrowhead.” I handed it to him.

  Naelen looked down at the thing, nestled in his palm. “Okay, I guess that works. I think it’s big enough that the chain won’t break if I’ve got it around my neck when I’m shifting.” He stood up. “I wish the tubs were a little bit bigger. I could shift here. Does the hotel have a pool?”

  “I think so,” I said. “But the thing is, if you go in that pool, Cunningham is going to see you. He might try to stop you.”

  “You’ll have to distract Cunningham, then,” said Naelen. “Because the river is at the bottom of the mountain.”

  * * *

  Distract him? Great. I had lost my bow and arrows at Cunningham’s place, but luckily, I had spares. I only had three regular arrows left. The rest were all the tranquilizer kind that Naelen’d had made for me.

  Usually, arrows would be useless against a vampire, but the tranqs would knock him out, and that might be pretty useful. I bet I could cut his head off while he was passed out.

  There was a little porch off the back of my hotel room. I opened the sliding glass doors and eased outside, taking my bow and arrows. I thought maybe that I’d be able to sight Cunningham from here and shoot him.

  But I couldn’t even see the limo. The angle was off. I must have gotten a little disoriented coming inside. Or maybe he’d moved the limo.

  Dawn was starting to streak the sky, pale yellow fingertips stretching from the horizon.

  I pulled three arrows out of my quiver and held them all up to the bow. Ready to shoot, I moved forward until the limo came into sight.

  The back window was rolled up and tinted. I couldn’t see through it.

  I let the first arrow fly.

  The window shattered. There he was.

  I sent the other two arrows right after the other.

  One struck the side of the car and fell down.

  The limo started moving.

  I couldn’t see Cunningham anymore. He had crouched down in the back seat, hiding like a coward.

  I yanked out three more arrows and sent the first one flying. Might as well give it a shot, anyway. You never hit anything if you didn’t shoot.

  My arrow hit nothing. It lodged in the ground.

  The limo was coming for me. I notched another arrow in my bow and let it fly.

  It crashed through the front windshield of the car, went straight through and then back out the back window. But it didn’t hurt anyone. Not the driver. Not Cunningham.

  I could hear Cunningham yelling, “Stop, stop!”

  The limo screeched to a halt.

  Cunningham got out of the back. “Do you have the arrowhead? Tell me the truth.”

  “Not anymore,” I said, cringing.

  “So, you don’t have it now,” he said. “Put down the bow.”

  I set the bow on the ground. I couldn’t see the pool, which was surrounded by a fence at the other end of the parking lot, but I really hoped that Naelen had found his way in there. Because I was about done now. I didn’t think I’d be able to do much more distracting.

  “I don’t understand how this happened,” Cunningham sighed. “I told you not to touch it. You touched it anyway, didn’t you?”

  I still had one of the arrows in my hand. Maybe I could jam it into his eye socket if I moved quick, put a lot of force behind my blow.

  “Damn it, Clarke, answer me when I ask you a question,” he said in a low voice. He was seething. He seemed in control, but it was just a mask. Underneath it all, he was full of fury.

  “I didn’t touch it,” I said.

  “Then why didn’t you follow my instructions?”

  I didn’t want to tell him about Naelen. Could I lie? “It touched me on its own. I was walking, and it was swinging in my hand, and it just… happened.”

  “Then why don’t you have it anymore?” said Cunningham. “You want me to believe that you would willingly set down the arrowhead when you know it protects you from me? Does someone else have it? Tell the truth, Clarke. Always tell me the truth.”

  I cringed. “Yes.”

  “Yes, what?”

  “Yes, someone else has it,” I said. God, I really hoped Naelen had shifted. But if he had, wouldn’t I have seen him fly up out of the pool. I hadn’t. He must be running into problems. I needed to stall. But how?

  “Who has it?”

  “Naelen,” I said in a squeaky voice.

  “Who the hell is Naelen? Was he with you earlier tonight?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is he the gargoyle?”

  “No,” I said.

  “Damn it, damn it, damn it,” said Cunningham, sighing. He kicked several loose rocks across the parking lot. “And look what you did to my limo.” He pointed at all the broken glass. “You really are starting to drive me into a rage, Clarke.”

  I licked my lips. I still had this arrow. Was there any way? If I got closer, could I—

  “Stab yourself with that arrow,” he said.

  “What?” I said. But I was already responding. I was turning the pointed end of the arrow on myself.

  “Nowhere lethal, at least not yet. I’m not done with you yet, but you must learn your lesson. So somewhere that it will hurt but not kill you.”

  I drove it into my own leg. I shrieked. God damn it, that hurt.

  I went down on one knee.

  Blood started to well up, bleeding through my jeans. And I’d just changed out of my wet clothes too. Another outfit ruined.

  “Pull it out,” said Cunningham. “Where has Naelen gone with the arrowhead?”

  I yanked the arrow out. “To shift into a dragon,” I gasped. It hurt so bad it was hard to breathe.

  “Oh, that’s just wonderful,” said Cunningham. “Just wonderful. Jesus, Clarke. Stab yourself again.”

  I punched the arrow into my own leg again. He hadn’t give me much specification. I figured hurting the same leg again couldn’t be too bad. And I wasn’t pushing it in very deep. Still, it hurt like hell. I cried out.

  “Shifting into a dragon,” muttered Cunningham. “Just perfect.”

  I was starting to feel a little woozy, I realized. This arrow? This was the tranquilizer arrow…

  My vision swam in front of me. My eyes felt heavy.

  Whoa, that kicked in quick. I guess it was made for a dragon, though, so it would have to—

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  I awoke to the smell of smoke. My eyes fluttered open. The trees were on fire.

  Well, they had been, anyway. Now, they were only smoldering.

  I sat up. I was lying right where I’d fallen, in the parking lot behind the hotel, but Cunningham and his limousine were nowhere to be found. Instead, the lot was glutted with fire trucks. They were spraying their hoses on the surrounding fir trees, which were now pine-needle-less skeletal blackened things.

  Had this been Naelen? Had Naelen done this?

  Where was Naelen?

  Where was Cunningham?

  Groaning, I pushed my way to my feet.

  Oh. Geez. My leg throbbed from the places where I’d stabbed it. I looked down to see that the arrow was still sticking out of my leg. I yanked it free.

  Ow! Damn.

  I took a moment to regain my bea
rings, to deal with the throbbing pain in my leg. Then I started to limp toward one of the fire trucks.

  One of the fire fighters was rolling up a hose.

  I waved at him. “Excuse me!”

  He looked up. “Miss, if you’re in need of medical attention, the ambulances are up front.”

  “I just need some information,” I said, limping more quickly.

  “You don’t look well, miss,” he said.

  “What happened?” I said. I gestured to the trees. “What did this?”

  “A dragon,” said the firefighter.

  “Oh,” I said. “Did you happen to see a limo?”

  “Yeah,” said the firefighter. “That’s what happened. The dragon chased this busted up limousine out of the parking lot and down the mountain. I didn’t go after him, so I don’t know what happened after that. Weird, though, I gotta say. I didn’t think dragons acted like that. I mean, you hear stories, but only from those nutbags in the Brotherhood or those other human-supremacist-type groups. They say that dragons are dangerous beasts and all that. But I always thought they were talking out of their asses. I just… I never thought about what I dragon could do…” He gazed up at the smoking trees.

  “Well, I’m sure the dragon had a good reason,” I said.

  “Oh, you a local, then?” said the firefighter.

  “What? Why would you say that?”

  “We came in from a town ten miles away,” said the firefighter, pointing to the side of his truck, which had Springville Fire Department emblazoned on it. “The local volunteer department, though, they keep talking about some guy named Cunningham, saying it’s about time someone stood up to him, stuff like that. You know who this Cunningham person is?”

  “Actually, I do,” I said. “He’s not a good person.”

  “Right, so the destroying dragon’s a hero, then, I guess.” The firefighter chuckled ruefully. “I gotta say, I do not understand it, I have to admit.”

  “They went down the mountain, you say?” I said.

  “That’s right,” he said.

  “Thanks for the chat!” I waved at him and then took off as fast as my wounded leg would take me to the rental car.

  * * *

  I’d had the sense not to stab the leg I needed to hit the pedals in the car. So, that was at least on my side. The holes in my leg still hurt like hell though as I did my best to move the car forward.

  Trying to get out of that parking lot was like navigating a maze. Place was jammed full of fire trucks, ambulances, police cars, and all the cars of the guests in the hotel.

  But eventually, I wiggled my way out of there, and I started down the road that led to downtown.

  Every ten feet, there was a scorch mark on the road—the vegetation on the side completely burned out. Naelen must have been breathing fire balls at the limo.

  I didn’t have to go far before I found the limo itself.

  It was a burnt-out husky of a thing on the side of the road. There was another cluster of police cars here as well.

  I parked the rental on the shoulder and got out. I approached.

  The limo was completely ruined. I got close enough that I could look in the back seat. The interior had been burnt out. It was still smoking back there.

  There was no body.

  Now, from what I knew of vamps, they could go up in flames pretty well, and they wouldn’t leave much behind. So, maybe Cunningham was gone.

  But deep in my bones I knew that wasn’t true, because I could still feel his tethers on me. They were subtle, but they were there. He was alive.

  Hell, that didn’t make sense. Compulsion—regular compulsion—usually only worked in close proximity. This far away from Cunningham, it should have broken.

  I mean, the tethers did seem far away, almost as if they were stretching, pulling away from me like strands of cheese…

  “Excuse me, ma’am?” said one of the police officers. “Can I ask what it is you’re doing here?”

  “Oh, just checking out the scene, sir,” I said, giving him my most reassuring smile. “Did you see a dragon come through here?”

  “Not me,” said the officer. “But someone who witnessed the crash said that a man got out of the limo and ran for the woods over there. Said the dragon followed him.”

  “Thank you so much,” I said, limping out into the fields towards the woods.

  “Wait,” called the police officer. “Where are you going?”

  I just waved to him, still smiling, and kept going.

  Inside the woods, I found a stream. It must feed into the river. It wasn’t very deep here, but it looked as though it were widening.

  I followed the stream for a bit until I came upon Naelen, sitting up to his neck in the stream. The arrowhead was around his neck, but I was pretty sure he didn’t have anything else on.

  “Clarke, it’s you!” said Naelen. “I thought… when I flew off, you were lying on the ground. I wanted to stop to help you, but Cunningham was getting away, and—”

  “Where is Cunningham?” I said.

  “I lost him,” he said. “I was chasing him through the woods out here, but then it was like he simply… disappeared. I mean, one second he was right it front of me, and then he was gone.”

  “What?” I said.

  Naelen sighed. “I don’t know. It’s weird, huh?”

  I cocked my head to one side. “Well, we know where he lives. We’ll go back there, and you can duck down into that pool there behind his house and shift, and then we’ll finish him off.”

  “Okay,” he said, standing up.

  My eyes got big. I caught of a glimpse of his taut stomach muscles and his powerful thighs. And in between them—

  I turned around. “Uh… on second thought, maybe you should just shift now and fly over? I’ll take the car and meet you.”

  * * *

  “Anything?” called Naelen from the bottom of the steps. We were in Cunningham’s house now. I was up in the kitchen. He was downstairs.

  “No,” I called back. “There’s nothing here except furniture.”

  He pushed open the door. He was wearing a pair of black sweat pants and holding a black shirt. He tugged it over his head. “Found this in the laundry.”

  “That’s handy,” I said. “All the rest of the clothes seem to be gone. And the sheets on the beds, and the towels from in the closets, and even the shower curtains. They must have packed everything up and took off.”

  “You really think they’re gone?” He looked around the kitchen. “Maybe they went out. Maybe they’ll come back.”

  “Maybe,” I said, but there was no conviction in my voice.

  “You do think they left.”

  “It only makes sense, right? Cunningham isn’t looking for a big fight. He wants to stay someplace quiet with his blood slaves and make them parade around in bikinis and serve his every whim—”

  “What do you think he makes her do?” broke in Naelen, his voice going high-pitched.

  Damn it. I had temporarily forgotten the fact that Reign, Naelen’s sister, was one of those blood slaves. “I’m sure it’s not that bad. I’m sure he just drinks their blood.”

  “Right,” said Naelen with a bitter laugh. “Right, that’s all.” He gripped the edge of the kitchen counter and bowed his head. “We lost her, didn’t we? We found her, and now we lost her.”

  “God, I’m sorry, Naelen, this is all my fault. If we would have waited for Logan, like he said—”

  “Oh, fuck Logan.” Naelen’s voice was a growl. He looked up at me with fury behind his eyes. “He never cared about my sister. If he had, he would have helped me get her out last night when we found her.”

  “He couldn’t help you,” I said. “He was compelled. No, I should have helped you, because I was the one who—”

  “Don’t blame yourself,” said Naelen. “You don’t have to defend Logan.”

  “I’m not. It’s just that I caused all this,” I said. “I went after Cunningham.”

  �
�Logan egged you on,” said Naelen.

  “He did piss me off,” I mumbled.

  “See? It is his fault.” Naelen pushed away from the counter and started to pace.

  “It’s my fault.”

  “It doesn’t matter whose fault it is,” said Naelen. “We’ve lost Reign, and that’s all there is to it.”

  I went to him. I put my hand on top of his. “We don’t know that,” I said in a quiet voice.

  He raised his gaze to mine. “Clarke—”

  “We’ll wait,” I said. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe they’ll all come back.”

  We waited.

  We waited until it was lunch time, and our stomachs were growling. No one was there.

  Around noon, I went out and picked up some food. We watched the house.

  No one came back.

  Still, we waited.

  Around late afternoon, Naelen decided this was ridiculous. “They’re gone, and they’re getting further and further away. We’re wasting time, sitting here doing nothing.”

  “Maybe you’re right,” I said.

  “So, what do we do now?” he wanted to know.

  I shook my head.

  “Come on Clarke. You have to figure our next move.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Figure out our next move? No pressure or anything, right?

  God.

  We went back to the hotel, and I called Logan. He didn’t pick up, which was typical for him. He did have a cell phone, but he was hell about keeping it charged up or paid off.

  Naelen didn’t think there was any reason to call Logan, anyway. “We’ve got to go after Cunningham,” he said.

  “We don’t know where Cunningham went,” I said.

  “So, we go back to Sea City,” he said. “Regroup. Try to figure it all out. We need to do something, and we can’t stay here.”

  I didn’t really see what going back to Sea City was going to do to help us out, but I wouldn’t mind a night in my own bed, now that I thought about it. And it would probably soothe him to feel as if we were doing something instead of sitting around twiddling our thumbs.

  “All right,” I said. “Pack up then. You still have the arrowhead?”

  “I do,” he said. “I better give it to you.”