Prison of Horrors (The DeathSpeaker Codex Book 6)

by Sonya Bateman

  As I made my way toward her slowly, a door behind the desk opened and a slope-shouldered man pushing sixty ambled out. He wore a maroon vest with a name tag that said Peter, and an expression that said the two of us must be out of our minds. “Sorry, folks,” he said. “Didn’t think anybody’d be out in this storm.” A slight nasal accent turned the word into stahm. “Looking for a room?”

  “Yes, we are.” Frost’s smile was on the verge of breaking. “One night.”

  Peter turned to the computer on the desk. “Ayup. Plenty of vacancies tonight,” he said as his fingers rattled across the keyboard. “Crazy weather out there. Never heard a peep about it on the news, either. Just goes to show those news folks don’t have a whole brain among the lot of ’em.”

  “Apparently not.”

  Frost was using her no-bullshit tone. I cleared my throat and stepped up to the desk, trying to convey with a look that maybe she shouldn’t explode at an old guy whose only crime was being stuck working the night shift. “If you’ve got two open rooms next to each other, that’d be great,” I said. “And maybe near a vending machine. I could use a snack.”

  “Two…” Frost blinked. Suddenly, the irritation melted from her face. “Oh. I get it,” she said. “But we don’t have to get separate rooms, you know.”

  “We don’t?” I said. And then I really thought about it. “Uh. You sure about that?”

  I tried not to read anything into her answering smile. “I’m sure.”

  I wasn’t. But I was willing to pretend I was sure. Who knew … maybe I wouldn’t make a spectacular fool of myself.

  Not a bet I’d normally take. Still, this wasn’t exactly normal.

  “Okay,” I said. “Make that one room.”

  CHAPTER 5

  At least the room had two beds.

  Frost headed straight for the shower, so I had time to make my calls. It was around one in the morning. I knew Sadie and Taeral would still be awake, so I called Sadie’s cell first. She seemed happy the trip had been extended. And she promised to keep Taeral from flipping out if I couldn’t get in touch with them for a while.

  Then I texted Abe with what I hoped was enough detail to keep him from worrying. Road trip with Frost, just along for company, nothing bad expected, might not be in touch due to bad signals and moose-related phone outages. I knew if he was concerned, he’d call me right back and question the hell out of me.

  A few minutes later, I got a text reply. Good. You needed a break.

  Apparently he wasn’t too worried.

  Once Frost was done in the bathroom, we switched places. I came out of the shower to find her sitting on the bed closest to the window, frowning at an open laptop. “Any news?” I said.

  “Nothing.” She snapped it shut with a frustrated gesture, then sighed and rubbed a temple. “I mean, everything is probably fine. If it weren’t for the damned landlines going out … well, there’s no point complaining about that now.”

  I shrugged and took a seat on the other bed. “Doesn’t hurt to check on things, right?”

  “No. I guess not.” She pushed the laptop back and swung her legs off the bed, so she was facing me. “I’m really glad you’re coming with me,” she said. “It should be almost like a vacation for you, right? I mean, you won’t have to do your thing with dead people. You must be tired of that. Especially since you’ve been working so much lately.”

  “I have?”

  “Well, yeah. You said you were taking a lot of extra jobs for the NYPD.”

  My brow furrowed. “Er. I don’t really do my dead-people thing for that,” I said. “I just drive them around.”

  “Oh.” She cocked her head slightly. “I must’ve thought you … helped the police out. You know, figuring out how they died.”

  “Yeah, I try not to do that,” I said. “Believe it or not, most deaths are pretty easy to figure out. The cops can handle it without me. And sometimes, with the tougher cases, I just get feelings about what happened, without having to actually interrogate the body. It was like that even before I knew I was the DeathSpeaker.” I smiled and shook my head. “Abe used to call me the Corpse Whisperer.”

  She laughed. “That’s kind of adorable.”

  “Creepy,” I said. “The word you’re looking for is creepy.”

  “Maybe. But it’s cool, too.” She leaned forward and laced her hands together. “How did you get like this?” she said. “I mean, being the DeathSpeaker. If you don’t mind me asking.”

  “I don’t mind. But the answer’s pretty boring,” I said. “Far as I can tell, I just … am. I guess I was born with it.”

  “Huh. And you’re really the only one?”

  I nodded. “Not the only one, ever,” I said. “There were more before me. I’m not sure how many, but I know there can only be one at a time. So right now, yeah. It’s just me.”

  “It’s not Fae magic, then,” she said.

  “No. Actually, I can still use the ability when my spark is drained.”

  “How does it work?” she said. “Do you know?”

  I gave a slight frown. This was starting to feel less like a friendly conversation, and more like an interrogation. “I have no idea,” I lied as casually as I could. Much as I liked Frost, a small part of me refused to forget that she was Milus Dei — and I still felt like I had to watch my back sometimes. “Wish I did, though,” I said. “It’d probably make my life a little easier.”

  She looked angry for an instant, the way she’d been about the storm. Or maybe I was imagining it. “Yeah, I bet it would,” she said, suddenly all smiles again. “It must be hard being the only one who can do what you do.”

  I shrugged. “Sometimes. Guess I’m just lucky there isn’t more demand for my services.”

  “Well, I’m definitely not going to demand them. Not on this trip.” She got up and stretched, and then started toward me. “You know, I wasn’t expecting to stop for the night, but I’m glad we did. Gives us a little extra time without me having to work.”

  “Uh. Time for what?”

  She stopped in front of me, straddling my legs. “This,” she said.

  Then she kissed me.

  Good thing I was at a loss for words, because anything I said wouldn’t have made sense. I figured I should just kiss her back.

  Until she started urging me further onto the bed.

  I broke off and stared at her. “Frost … are you sure about this?”

  “You keep asking me that,” she said with a smile. “Yes. I’m sure.”

  “Right,” I whispered.

  Then I guessed I was sure, too.

  CHAPTER 6

  It was almost like the storm never happened.

  Frost and I were on the road by nine the next morning under calm, clear skies. Patches of snow and slush remained around the hotel, the travel plaza, and the surrounding small pocket of gas stations and restaurants, but the evidence of last night’s freak weather was nonexistent by the time we got back on the highway.

  For some reason, I still wasn’t willing to mention my suspicion that the storm had been unnatural.

  We only stopped once, to fill the tank and grab a late breakfast at a fast-food place. The further we traveled, the more the scenery changed from semi-urban, to mostly rural, to long stretches where the only evidence of civilization was the road we were driving on. We chatted on and off, but no mention was made of last night. Probably for the best. I had no idea what to say, and I didn’t want to get into clichés like that was incredible or now what should we do? For the moment, I was happy enough without an answer to that question.

  The only thing I knew for sure was that I wouldn’t say no if it happened again.

  Coming up on two in the afternoon, Frost slowed the car and pointed to an unmarked turnoff just ahead. “This is it,” she said. “Lightning Cove is really isolated. That road is the only way in or out of town.”

  “Huh.” Something about that statement made me uneasy, but I figured she hadn’t actually intended it to be om
inous. “Don’t think I’ve ever been to a place like that.”

  Frost smiled. “It’s definitely … unique.”

  Okay. Nothing ominous about that, either.

  At least the only road into town was paved. We drove for about a mile, and Frost slowed again as we approached a slight incline. “You have to see this,” she said. “The view from up here is really something.”

  “Up here?”

  It wasn’t long before I saw what she meant.

  The rise ended in a meandering drop that went down quite a bit farther than we’d come up. Ahead, the road curved down a fairly steep hill. The town of Lightning Cove nestled at the bottom of the hill like something straight out of a painting. Perfect little houses with perfect little postage-stamp yards, and perfect curls of smoke rising from perfect chimneys. The biggest building, which looked to be in the exact center of town, was an old stone mammoth of a church.

  And this road was definitely the only access to the place. On the right, another steep hill rose to a very thick, very old forest. To the left were sheer stone cliffs with a battered, time-worn lighthouse perched at the peak.

  Straight ahead was the ocean stretching out beyond the rockiest shore I’d ever seen. Even from here, I could see the spray geysering explosively into the air every time a wave crashed against land.

  “Quaint,” I muttered. There was something off about the whole place — it was too neat, too precisely cut off from the rest of the world. “That’s another word for weird, right?”

  “Yeah, sometimes,” Frost said. “In this case it just means ‘annoyingly outdated’.”

  She’d started down the hill, and I noticed yet another barrier between Lightning Cove and everywhere else. There was a wide creek, or possibly a small river, flowing downhill from the woods across the front border of the town, that disappeared somewhere beneath the cliffs. An old-fashioned covered bridge, long grown over with hanging moss, spanned the creek and connected the main road to the other side.

  And when we crossed the bridge, I felt a kind of whole-body pinch. Not pain exactly, but pressure — like I’d been squeezed in a giant invisible fist for a few seconds.

  That couldn’t possibly be a good sign.

  I glanced at Frost. If she’d felt it, she gave no indication. Her expression was one of vague concentration, exactly like someone who wasn’t familiar enough with the route they were taking to drive it without paying attention. Perfectly normal.

  So why did I have the feeling that normal was so wrong around here?

  Without thinking, I touched my shirt and the moonstone pendant beneath it. At least I knew the stone was fully charged. I still hoped I wouldn’t have to use any magic — in broad daylight, without the moon to replenish my spark, I was a lot more limited. It was good to have a little backup.

  I took my phone out on a whim and looked at the signal strength. Zero bars, just like Frost had said. And though I hadn’t really been looking, I was pretty sure I’d seen no towers of any kind for miles, cell or otherwise. But there were telephone poles here.

  “So,” I said as I pocketed the phone. “Where did the moose attack happen?”

  Frost shot me a sideways glance. “The what, now?”

  “The moose. The one that knocked out the landlines,” I said, trying not to frown. “Because all the phones in town are out, and there’s no cell signal. Right?”

  “Oh, right.” She smiled crookedly. “Sorry. I got a little distracted — thought I missed a turn. Anyway, the downed poles are over by the woods. Not easy to get to. That’s why it’s going to take so long to fix them.”

  “Huh.”

  I hadn’t seen any poles by the woods. But again, I wasn’t really looking. And I was going to drive myself crazy if I couldn’t get rid of this sudden, nagging suspicion of everything and everyone, including Frost.

  Before I could say anything more, she signaled left and pulled into a long, crushed-stone driveway that led to a perfectly charming little cottage. There was a dark sedan parked ahead. She stopped behind the sedan and cut the engine. “The research team rented this place for a month,” she said. “It was a lot cheaper than staying in the hotel — well, the bed and breakfast. This town doesn’t have a hotel.”

  I managed a grin. “Go figure.”

  “Well, I guess I’d better go see what’s happening,” she said. “You ready?”

  “Sure.”

  We got out of the car, and I followed her to the front door. It was surprisingly warm here for the tail end of winter in a northern New England town — I’d place the outside temperature well into the sixties. Another check mark on the far-too-perfect list.

  Frost raised a hand to knock, then faltered and glanced down. “Okay, not good,” she said under her breath.

  The door was open about an inch.

  Frost pushed it open the rest of the way. “Nicole?” she called as she stepped inside. “Guys, is anybody—” She cut off with a sharp gasp.

  I rushed in after her. Beyond the door was a perfectly charming living room, with quaint wooden furniture, handmade throw rugs, and a lovely stone fireplace. There were even several vases filled with perfect fresh-cut flowers.

  But the charm was interrupted by the less-than-idyllic dead body sprawled on gleaming hardwood floor.

  CHAPTER 7

  “Goddamn it, what the hell happened?” Frost strode toward the body, a woman in her late thirties with dirty blonde hair and a Fed-esque suit, and knelt to check for a pulse.

  I could’ve told her she wouldn’t find one. I’d seen enough bodies to know at a glance whether a person was unconscious or dead. This person — Nicole, I presumed — was definitely not unconscious. But I was busy being too shocked to speak.

  So much for the routine check-in.

  Frost swore again and looked up with fury in her eyes. “She’s dead.”

  “Yeah,” I said slowly. I was already checking the place out, searching for a hint of what went down here. Years of working with cops had taught me a thing or two about reading crime scenes, which I assumed this was.

  The door was open but not forced. I couldn’t be sure, but it looked like nothing in the room was disturbed — well, except the woman who shouldn’t have been dead. The only visible blood was a small smear beside her head and a thin, dried crust around one eye. That in itself was disturbing. It almost looked like she’d tried to use blood as eyeliner.

  “I don’t believe this.” Frost stood and took a few steps away from the body. “Seth?” she called. “Jimmy? No, they can’t be here. They wouldn’t have left her. Unless…” Jaw clenched, she drew her service gun. “We need to check the rest of the house,” she said.

  “Right.” My bag, and the gun I’d brought, was still in the car. But I was a lot better with magic, anyway.

  I followed her through a kitchen and a small dining room, past a bathroom, two bedrooms, and a den. Everything was just as charming as the living room, and just as undisturbed. No intruders, but at least there weren’t more bodies.

  When we came back to the living room, she got her phone out and actually started dialing before she snarled and shoved it back. “Yeah, that’s not going to work,” she said. “Okay. I know where the others could be. They obviously don’t know about this, or they’d be here. But before we check, I need to—”

  Just then, the front door banged open.

  Frost whirled with her gun drawn. “Don’t move — oh, it’s you.” She lowered the weapon as a young women walked inside, flanked by two men in suits.

  The girl wasn’t NSA. She was barely old enough to drink, if that, and dressed in jeans and a light sweater. Unfortunately, I couldn’t dismiss the possibility that she was Milus Dei, since I’d already come across one far-too-young person who’d been brainwashed by the cult. Whoever she was, she didn’t look happy to be here.

  But if I had to guess, I’d say the two men were probably the rest of the research team.

  The girl in the sweater had come in first, so she was the first
to see the body. Her eyes went wide and she opened her mouth to say something.

  “Hold on. I’m asking the questions here,” Frost said sharply. She put the gun back and sighed. “Gideon, this is Nova, our local contact. And the rest of the team. Seth Olson, Jimmy Lane.” She pointed to each of the men in turn. “I’m sorry, but I have to talk to them. Outside,” she added with a stern look at Nova. “Would you mind waiting here a minute?”

  “Uh. Sure.” I had a hell of a lot of questions myself. Like why Frost seemed to know this girl pretty well for only being in this town once before, and why their ‘local contact’ was barely out of puberty and hadn’t completely flipped out about the body on the floor. But I’d hold off asking until I could talk to Frost semi-privately.

  Right now I wanted to find out what happened to the dead woman. So when they went outside, I’d just ask her.

  “Thank you,” Frost said to me, flashing a half-smile. The men had already started back out, and Nova turned to follow them when Frost said, “Wait. Nova, you stay here with Gideon. Please.”

  The girl rolled her eyes and huffed dramatically past Frost, further into the living room. She still hadn’t said a word.

  Well. So much for having a few minutes alone to interrogate the dead woman.

  I’d just have to keep it subtle, and do it anyway.

  CHAPTER 8

  When Frost and the other two left the house, Nova seemed a little more normal. And by normal I meant extremely unhappy about being in a room with a corpse.

  She hung back and drifted toward one of the chairs, blinking rapidly. I felt like I should say something, but I had no idea what. This entire situation made less sense every time I learned something new about it — and my bad feeling was getting worse.

  Nova made a soft sound, almost a sigh. “She’s dead, isn’t she?” the girl half-whispered.

  “Er.” I couldn’t bring myself to agree out loud, so I let my non-answer speak for itself. “Did you know her?”