by Raquel Lyon
“Not that one, you idiot,” the ghost shouted. “Over there!”
He pointed to a similar door twenty feet away, and I ran for it, leaping from one collapsing section of floor to another with Rust close at my heels. With seconds to spare, we entered, and I slammed the door behind us as the hotel turned to rubble in our wake.
I grabbed hold of Rust’s collar and stamped on the button. There wasn’t time to search for the settings and align them for a return journey to the Towers; the alley would have to do. The terraplunger whirled into action, and I allowed myself a small breather while I willed my body to speed up the healing process. I’d certainly get some strange looks from the Saturday shoppers if I turned up back on the streets of Carleigh looking like I’d just rolled out from a bar brawl.
As the walls spun around me, I debated what my next move was. The Assembly headquarters in Latvia must surely be aware of what had happened here today. An investigation might even already be underway, but what did that mean for me? Did I still need to go after the demon? My conscience was telling me it was the right thing to do. I’d spent three years clearing the Third of scumbags; what was one more? But without any intel to go on, I’d be navigating without a map or any idea of my destination. I’d have to do some digging to find someone who could offer me some insight, and that would take time and could stir up more trouble than I needed. Would it matter if I let this one go and went back to chasing rabbits? If I was in the clear and everyone who knew about me was dead, then whoever had attacked the hotel could have let me off easy without knowing it.
Except someone knew something. About me. That was glaringly obvious, because I was pretty sure it wasn’t normal for the name of a hellhound’s slayer to be burnt into the floor. Or was that merely an outcome I hadn’t experienced before? As soon as I got back to the Towers, I was heading straight to the library to get some research in, and then I would make my decision.
If I ever got there.
The terraplunger was certainly taking its time, and I was almost positive it wasn’t in my imagination that we’d been spinning for a whole lot longer than the time it took to get here. Ah, Christ. If the explosion had fucked the terraplunger up, it could be sending us anywhere.
Chapter Nine
When the terraplunger slowed to a stop, the wooden walls of the crate were nowhere to be seen. Not that I was surprised, but I did expect to see something, even if it didn’t offer me a clue as to where we’d been sent. However, one thing was clear: wherever we’d landed, it was night-time and as black as the darkness beyond the hotel windows. A fleeting thought that I’d passed go and gone straight to jail crossed my mind, but I hadn’t noticed any stars in Angornox like the ones over my head. Only one moon shone in this sky, and despite honing my superhearing, there was a distinct lack of anguished howls floating on the chilly wind batting strands of hair against my cheek and biting at my nose. The signs were favourable that this was somewhere different, and wherever the hell it was, it was new to me and, as luck would have it, deserted. Two minutes to set the markings to the right combination, and I’d be back at the Towers nursing my wounds with a healing brandy in my hands and my feet up in front of the crackling fire.
I leapt from the terraplunger and landed knee-deep in snow, narrowly missing a sharp ridge of rock—one of the many puncturing the almost-white landscape around the column. Ahead, the ground sloped gently into the darkness as if I had arrived on a mountaintop of sorts. But mountain or not, it made no odds. I wasn’t sticking around to get confirmation. Rust jumped down to join me, and after a quick sniff around, waded off to explore the area.
“Don’t wander too far, bud. We’re not staying,” I shouted, studying the rows of runes encircling the terraplunger. Judging by its current setting, this realm wasn’t even in our dimension. Great. Another felony I’d probably get hauled in front of the jury for later, and it would be just my luck to find that ignorance of the journey wouldn’t be deemed a valid excuse. I grabbed the column with both hands and twisted the first section into place. Then, as I located the second mark, the terraplunger trembled and the air above it shimmered. I stepped back and considered making a run for it, in case the traveller was hostile, but I wasn’t overly concerned. Whoever it was, I could probably take them, and as a figure whirred into view, it took my decision from me.
What the hell was he doing here?
For some inexplicable reason, the red-haired ghost had followed us. He floated down and hovered before me.
“Good. You made it,” he said.
“Made it? You mean I was supposed to come here, and you knew about it?”
“I know a lot more than you think. Let me introduce myself. My name is Travers.”
Travers? The same Travers who was getting the intel together?
“And as I haven’t crossed over,” he continued, “it is my guess that death has not absolved me of my duties to the Assembly.”
I pressed my lips together as I digested his words. “I take it that means me, too?”
“Naturally. There’s work to do and a demon to stop. Losing one battle does not mean the war is over. We keep fighting until our last breath—and in my case, beyond.”
I let out a sigh as my imaginary pardon tore in two before my eyes. “Where are we?” I asked.
“Precisely where we should be.”
“Wow, that’s informative.”
“I was told you were the expert. Don’t tell me you can’t figure it out.”
“All I know is, this is not the Third, and whichever dimension it is, we shouldn’t be here. Because of you, I’ve broken the law again.” I scowled.
“Actually, you haven’t, and if that’s what you’re worried about… don’t be. You forget who you are working for now. All the proper papers have been signed, and you have permission to cross into any dimension deemed necessary to rid us of this demon scum.” He floated in circles around the terraplunger as he spoke. “I take it you are well versed in dimensional geography?”
“Thirteen dimensions, each with thirteen realms? Yeah, I know the drill. Can you keep still a minute? You’re making me dizzy.”
Travers came to a sudden stop in front of my face, his clouded eyes surprisingly disconcerting. “And the combinations?”
I turned to walk from his stare. “Well, it’s been a few years since I studied the sequences of all one hundred and sixty-nine segments. I might be a bit rusty on a few.”
“Then let us pray they are not the ones required for any possible locations our demon friend might choose to flee to. I cannot guarantee that I’ll still be around to bail you out.”
“Why? Where are you going?” I said, rotating back quickly.
“To the First, I hope. I believe I’ve led a decent enough life not to be sent to the Thirteenth.”
I caught the look in his eye that told me he wasn’t ignorant about my recent trip to the Thirteenth. My werewolf heritage had ensured it was my destiny to end my days there, but I’d beaten the Devil and escaped, and Travers knew as well as I did that when I eventually returned, the Devil would make me pay.
“I hope you have,” I said. “Personally, I don’t recommend it.”
“Quite so. Well, as I said, my time here may be limited to the time it takes me to deliver the intel to you, or it may be longer. Your guess is as good as mine. The only certainty is that we must get started as soon as possible. Given the pyrotechnics on show at the hotel, we can presume that someone has got wind of your involvement, and they’re plainly not happy about it. If they’re onto you already, we have no time to lose.”
“I don’t scare that easily.”
“I’ve heard that about you.”
There was that stare again, but I was ready for it this time, and I wasn’t going to let it get to me.
“Get on with it, then. Where are we, and why are we here?”
Frustratingly, Travers resumed his swimming around the terraplunger, and his answer almost got lost on the wind. “The reasons I brought you to this pa
rticular dimension will all become clear once you are at the safe house. Your ride should be here any minute.”
“Did you say my ride?” As the words left my mouth, a low buzzing noise increased in volume. A motor of some kind.
Rust trotted over and sat at my feet as my head whipped around, searching for the source. I didn’t have to wait long before a snowmobile sped into view and skidded to a stop, spraying snow into my eyes. Rust growled a bark as I brushed it away. Clearly he appreciated the impromptu snow shower as much as I did.
The rider was barely distinguishable against the night sky—dressed head to toe in black leather with a full black helmet. I almost shouted a mouthful of expletives at them, but the long blonde hair trailing over narrow shoulders, coupled with the shapely legs gripping the side of the machine, told me that it could only be a woman, and curiosity caused me to bite back my reprimand.
“You’ve seen better days, Travers,” a disturbingly familiar voice said.
“Ran into a spot of trouble along the way, my dear,” he replied.
“Yeah, I heard. Nasty business.”
“You’ve heard already? News travels fast.”
“You know how it is.”
I barely heard their conversation and must have looked like a right wally, standing there with my mouth hanging open, unable to believe my own ears. A barrage of emotions raced through my head: shock, unease, disbelief. All of them fighting for the upper hand. It was impossible. My ride removed her helmet, and any doubt that still clung to life in a small corner of my brain vanished as she shook out her hair.
It was her.
She looked up and down at my dishevelled appearance, clearly unimpressed by the idiotic expression etched on my face, appraising me and finding me wanting.
“Aw, come on,” she said, frowning at Travers. “This is the person who’s supposed to save the day?”
“He’s sharper than he looks,” Travers said in my defence.
“Yeah, well, I hope so. He’ll need to be.” She extended her hand. A hand that I’d held more times than I could remember. A hand that had touched parts of me few women had. A hand that still visited me in my dreams. I took it with all the sophistication of a seventh-grader and the nerves to match.
“Hi,” she said. “Nice to meet you. Name’s Charlotte.”
Chapter Ten
Charlotte didn’t remember me, but then again, why would she? It had been over a year since she’d last seen me, and that was more than enough time for her to forget, even without the curse that ensured she would. It was a pity I couldn’t say the same.
I’d first met Charlotte in the time I’d worked for the Devil. I was what’s known in the trade as a gleaner—a reaper of sorts. One man with a hellhound companion and a mission to collect back the souls of scumbags who thought they could escape Hell the easy way. Saul, my hellhound, was the capsule, the container that held onto those souls until he was filled to the brim and called back home. Only then would the Devil fulfil his side of the bargain and give me my life back. Each time Saul sucked another soul from its stolen human body, a lighter part of his coat turned black, and I knew I was one step closer to retirement. The day that last spot changed was the happiest of my life… and the saddest. Saul hadn’t just been my comrade in arms. He’d been my friend, too, and the loss of my companion of three years had cut deep.
I’d lost Charlotte long before that. It was an occupational hazard of a gleaner that people forgot they’d encountered you once you were out of sight, a curse that kept the role mysterious and allowed a gleaner’s tracks to remain inconspicuous. Forming connections could prove fatal and was strictly forbidden. Personally, I’ve never been one for rules, and I broke those particular ones the day I met Charlotte. Show me a man who wouldn’t have, and you’d be showing me a man with no dick.
She was everything a man could want: smart, sassy, sexy as hell with her ample assets squeezed into her too-tight leather outfit, and the most appealing thing of all… a wicked fighter. Her staff skills were some of the best I’d ever come across, and when I happened upon her that first day, battling a demon who was supposed to be my mark, I made the decision that now seems destined to haunt me for the rest of my life. I introduced myself and told her everything. Everything I knew, at any rate, which wasn’t a lot. She’d been fascinated by my gleaner lifestyle and touched by my story and determination to return to my old life. Her offer to help me expedite the process had shown a tender heart behind her tough exterior, and it was one that I’d wanted to know better. Of course, I’d sworn I would never let myself fall for her, and I hadn’t… much.
She’d known the risks. If we were to work together, she had to remain by my side at all times. A mere moment apart and she would forget I’d ever existed… as she did now. It was a fact that had led to us getting a lot closer than I’d ever intended. The night she’d ignored the rules and I’d lost her forever, that night on the roof, was the night my brain refused to forget and the cause of my current suffering. She was the cause of my current suffering.
Pulling from my stupor, I nodded a curt greeting. “Con.” I kept it simple. “Likewise. Excuse me a minute.”
I paced a safe distance from the snowmobile until I was satisfied I was out of her earshot, and summoned Travers over.
“What the hell are you playing at?” I demanded.
“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” he said, the warped smile on his translucent face saying otherwise.
“Don’t play the innocent with me. You know full well what I mean.”
“That she’s the love of your life?”
“Oh, get real, will you.” I gritted my teeth and talked through them. No way was Charlotte the ‘love of my life’. That position had been filled four years ago by the woman who was now driving me insane at home. Charlotte was a blip when I wasn’t in my right mind, and Travers was a cruel man to take advantage of that. “This is not a time for jokes.”
“Would you prefer it if I referred to her as your bit on the side? Would that be a more pleasing term?”
“Yes… no,” I said, watching Rust lick the end of an icicle hanging from the side of the terraplunger and thinking how amusing it would be if his tongue got stuck to it. “I’d prefer it if our previous relationship wasn’t mentioned at all, because as you’ve evidently been digging into my past life, you should know that I had no idea I shouldn’t have been with her back then.”
Travers’ smile widened and developed into a small chuckle. “So you had a little fun, so what? Werewolves aren’t known for their monogamy. Good, was she? I’ve always thought she looked like a little firecracker.”
“Shut the hell up. I did what I had to do.”
“Oh, sure. If you say so,” he said. “Tell yourself whatever makes you feel better, but don’t tell me you were expecting to keep it a secret.”
“I was hoping to forget, so I didn’t have to.”
“Then perhaps the next time you’re spilling your troubles to your mangy mutt there, you should check for stray pixies in the undergrowth. You know the Assembly has eyes and ears everywhere.”
“They had pixies spying on me?”
“You know pixies. They’ll snitch on anyone for the right price.”
“The sneaky bastards. I’ll have every one of them for breakfast when I get back.”
“It won’t change a thing. The Assembly has you now.”
If my frustration was bubbling before, it was full-on boiling after that comment. The Assembly might be able to push me around and demand that I do their bidding, but they couldn’t force me to work with the very woman who’d already messed up my love life more than I could handle. If Sophie ever found out that Charlotte was real—
“Charlotte has to go. Get rid of her. I can’t work with her here.”
“Too much like old times?”
“Something like that, yeah.”
“Then I’m sorry to disappoint. She’s involved in this mission, too. To put it plainly, she’s been on the te
am for some time, and her work has ensured that we are far closer than we were before her involvement. But recently she’s become rather obsessive and it’s making her sloppy. She needs a guiding hand, which is where you come in. I suggest you put your reservations aside and work with her.”
“Hand-holding was not part of the agreement.”
“I’m not asking you to hold her hand or touch her at all—unless, of course, there’s some unfinished business there.” He winked. “But the way she’s going, she’s more likely to end up dead than get to the bottom of these disappearances. Now, you wouldn’t want that, would you?”
“Not my problem.”
I already had the problem of trying to get Charlotte out of my damned head. I didn’t need another one.
“Honestly? Could you have her death on your conscience? Could you live with yourself?”
“She’s not my responsibility. I only signed up to find one demon. One. Singular. Then I’m out of here.”
“Don’t you get it? Are you really as stupid as she thinks? The disappearances are the trail, and you won’t get to the big man without a trail to follow. Charlotte knows about every one of those disappearances and is your best bet for following that trail. Help her. Use her. She’s the intel you came to collect.”
Chapter Eleven
Dammit! Of all the things he could have said, why did he have to say that? He knew I couldn’t do this thing blind, and if Char was the one with the low-down on the case, I had no choice but to spend time with her. Bastard. Well, I wouldn’t be feeding his amusement for long. I would keep it strictly professional, raid her for all the info I could squeeze, and then split before she had the chance to infiltrate my brain further.
Char.
I’d begun calling her that after spending only a week in her company. I remember it had felt right. Suited her, too. Perfectly matched to her fiery temperament. And thinking about that temperament now, it was a mystery to me how I’d let her get under my skin. She wasn’t my usual type at all—a little too tall, a little too full in all the right places, and with far bigger muscles than any woman should possess. She couldn’t be any more different to Soph. The fact that the flashbacks still hung around to taunt me was bad enough, but if I spent more time with Char, making new memories and stirring up old feelings that should have been dead and buried long ago, I’d never be able to make it up with Soph. Nothing meant more to me than that.