Wrong Side of Hell (The DeathSpeaker Codex Book 1)

by Sonya Bateman

Foley tapped my phone against his palm. “There’s an active call on this,” he said. “Who’s listening in? The werewolf bitch? The one-armed brat?”

  “It’s the mayor,” I rasped, still winded from the throbbing pain in my groin. “Thought he’d want to give you a commendation for misuse of police resources, civil rights violations, excessive force, and murder. Oh, and animal cruelty.”

  A wry smirk lifted his lips. “I keep forgetting. You’re supposed to be the funny one.”

  The blur I glimpsed before the pain was his right hook smashing my jaw.

  I hit the floor hard, tasting blood.

  “You may be wondering why I haven’t hobbled you with cold iron yet.” The chief loomed over me, glaring down with contempt. He dropped my phone and smashed it with a booted foot. “I know what you are, Fae. But I’m not entirely convinced you’re the prize we’ve been after, so you’re going to give us a little demonstration,” he said. “That’s where poor Tom comes in.”

  Damn it, I knew I didn’t like the sound of that.

  Foley hauled me up by the shirtfront and deposited me next to Hullman’s body. “You’re going to ask him a few questions that he knows the answers to, but you don’t. If you get them right, you live, and everyone here goes free. And if you don’t, you all die.”

  “Yeah,” I muttered. “Think I got that part already.” Terrific. The rest of my plan wasn’t going to work unless I was back by the stairs. I had to stall a little bit longer.

  I’d have to go through with this.

  “Ask him what the combination is to the weapons storage room,” Foley barked.

  “All right. Hold on.” I sighed and laid a hand on Hullman’s chest.

  God, this hurts! His voice ripped through my head, making me wince.

  “Tom,” I said. “What’s the combination to the weapons storage room?”

  There isn’t…oh, shit, this hurts. Isn’t one. It’s a mag key. Who are you? Why can’t I stop—

  “Shut up, Tom.” I closed my eyes. “There isn’t one,” I said. “It’s a mag key.”

  “Good. But you could’ve gotten that from one of the men in the raid, or while you were poking around in the control room.”

  I glared at Foley. “So that was pointless and a trick question?”

  “I wanted to see if you’d answer truthfully,” he said. “It’s called establishing a baseline. Next question. What is his mother’s maiden name?”

  “What’s your mother’s maiden name, Tom?”

  Lawrence-Lawrence-Lawrence-Lawrence-Lawrence-Lawre—

  “Once is enough!” Apparently, terrified newly-dead guys were extra painful to talk to. “Lawrence,” I spat.

  The chief nodded. “Ask him what he was doing in the break room on sublevel two last Friday night.”

  I probably didn’t want to hear this one. “Okay, Tom,” I said. “What were you doing in the break room on sublevel two last Friday night?”

  Singing…augh-please-let-go…singing Katy Perry please this HURTS

  I looked at Foley. “Trying on women’s underwear,” I said. “He says you inspired him to do that, Chief. The dead can’t lie. Something you want to confess to your buddies, here?”

  He kicked me in the side.

  I barked out a breath. “Fuck!” I gasped. “Singing Katy Perry. Jesus.”

  “Last question. Why did Dr. Garret plan to terminate Subject Seven?”

  The question made me smile inwardly. Not the words, but what I heard behind him—fear. He was terrified of Daoin. Maybe we had a chance, after all.

  I leaned in closer to Hullman’s corpse. Might as well take advantage of the situation and find out something I hadn’t planned on needing to know. “How do I open the rail car cages?” I said.

  “Don’t answer that, Hullman! That’s an order!”

  Keys…engine car. Hanging by the door-please-stop.

  I grinned. “He can’t hear you, Chief. He’s dead.”

  He lunged for me. I rolled clear, stood and sprinted past him, back toward the stairs. Only had to get halfway up. The two goons gave chase, but I managed to stay ahead of them long enough to reach the side door on the landing—the one leading in from the emergency medical access tunnels. I banged on the door and stepped back.

  When it opened, four more Gideons rushed out.

  CHAPTER 47

  The goons on the stairs froze and looked back at Foley, but he didn’t give them any orders. He was busy being too furious to speak.

  It was a risk, but it paid off. I figured they couldn’t afford to kill me.

  “Hey, you said nobody else but me,” I called. “So here I am. All five of me.” As I spoke, two of the other Gideons pulled guns and trained them on the thugs. That would be Denei and Zoba. I was pretty sure the one closest to me was Taeral, and Sadie stood to his left.

  We hadn’t bothered trying to glamour Grygg. He’d be along shortly, and a bit more dramatically. I hoped.

  Foley regained his composure, and his sneer. “You’re bleeding,” he said, staring straight at me. “You’re the real DeathSpeaker.”

  “Am I?” Grinning, I focused for a few seconds and changed my glamour. Now I was Taeral.

  At the same instant, Taeral changed his appearance to Daoin. Not the wasted shell we’d pulled out of the vault, but the angry god from Murdoch’s vision. And there was no doubt who he wanted to smite.

  “Bullets won’t kill him!” the chief shouted. “Just shoot—”

  Before he could finish ranting the command, Denei and Zoba fired simultaneously. The two goons dropped back and tumbled down the stairs.

  A loud, splintering shatter filled the space as Grygg responded to the signal—shots fired—and crashed through the boarded skylight at the center of the platform, ten feet behind the chief. The whole station shook when he landed.

  And the rest of the Milus Dei morons finally realized they were under attack.

  As the five of us raced down the stairs and a wave of men in black surged toward the scene, Foley spun on a heel and bolted toward the train. Grygg sidestepped and dropped him with a neat clothesline before turning to face the oncoming mob, who were already firing.

  “The keys to those cages are in the engine car, hanging by the door,” I shouted to the rest of them. “Watch out for Abe. He’s on the tracks.”

  No one responded. I’d have to assume they heard me.

  Taeral and I stopped and surrounded Foley, who’d just gotten to one knee. The rest kept going to help Grygg. Taeral, still wearing a Daoin skin, hauled the chief up one-handed and threw him toward the stairs. “Bastard!” he screamed.

  I touched his arm. “I’ve got him,” I said. “Reun’s over there, by the tracks. You’re the only one who can handle him.”

  He hesitated, practically shaking with his desire to rip Foley into tiny pieces. Then he nodded and ran for the tracks.

  Before I could turn, a gun went off behind me.

  Foley missed.

  “Devil spawn,” he snarled as I faced him. “You won’t escape this time. And we’ll take a lot more than your other arm.” He shoved the service revolver back and drew out a different gun.

  I suspected that one wasn’t loaded with regular bullets.

  He fired, and I dropped the Taeral glamour just to mess with him. Another miss—but I felt the wind from that one. Foley shook his head. “I don’t care which one you are,” he said. “I will bring you down. All of you.”

  I ran at him.

  My lunge knocked him down, and I slugged him in the jaw before he could catch a breath. Then I went for the arm with the gun, but I couldn’t see it. That’s when I felt the barrel shoved against my thigh.

  Foley grinned and pulled the trigger.

  White-hot noise filled my head. Pain flooded in after it. Foley shoved me to the ground, grabbed an arm and yanked me facedown, planting a knee between my shoulders. Something snapped around my wrist—cold metal that burned.

  I couldn’t let him cuff me.

  Gritting my te
eth against the pain, I jerked hard to the right. The pressure on my back eased, and I pulled my arm free and rolled away. He’d closed the cuff, and the other one dangled open from my wrist. I’d have to live with it for now.

  But I was already nauseous, and more than a little dizzy.

  I rolled again, tensed to get up, when I realized Foley hadn’t attacked again. Where the hell was he? I was facing the stairs so I couldn’t see any of the fight behind me, but I heard the commotion—shouting, gunfire, running. At least one of those sounds was getting a lot closer, quickly.

  Finally, I managed to right myself. And I saw why Foley hadn’t attacked.

  He stood a few feet away beside a cluster of roughly a dozen black-clad soldiers. Apparently, they were escorting Reun. He was in the center, a full head taller than the rest. And he was grinning. Beyond them, I caught a glimpse of the battle. It was mostly one-sided—their side.

  Reun moved through the knot of soldiers, his eyes fixed on me. They were a brilliant green, penetrating and chillingly calm. He cleared the barricade and threw something at Chief Foley’s feet, where it landed with a sharp clank.

  Taeral’s metal arm.

  I didn’t even know this guy, and I already wanted to kill him.

  “Get him secured. No need to shoot him. He’ll be going down on his own soon enough.” Foley cast a wicked glare at me. “We’re moving to phase four. Be ready.”

  He swept away, and most of the men in black followed him. Two stayed behind and flanked Reun.

  I reached out and closed the loose cuff, so he couldn’t get me immobilized easily. “What the hell did you do to my brother?” I said.

  “Nothing he’d not have done to me.” Reun moved forward with measured steps and stopped in front of me. “So. You are the DeathSpeaker,” he said. “How does it feel, holding a power with such potential—great good, or unspeakable evil? You must believe yourself a god.”

  My lip curled. “I believe myself pissed off, you sick son of a bitch. How could you work for these butchers?”

  “My reasons are not for your ears.”

  “Fine. I really don’t give a shit, anyway,” I said. “Are we going to fight or what? Your handler there told you to secure me.”

  Reun smiled. “I’ve no need to fight you, DeathSpeaker. Not when you’re unable to move your legs.”

  A jolt of panic moved through me when I realized he was right.

  Goddamn it. Maybe if I blinded him, I could distract his focus. “De’ársahd,” I shouted, and the moonstone burst into a bright flare.

  He leaned forward and blew on the pendant like a birthday candle.

  It went out.

  “You’re getting weaker,” Reun said, still wearing a benevolent smile. “All that cold iron. You do know it’s poisoning you?” He nodded at my arm.

  I glanced down and barely stifled a cry. The arm was an ugly, dark mottled purple and green, from elbow to fingertips.

  “No,” I ground out, meeting his gaze. “It’s a trick, like whatever you were doing to Abe.”

  “Is it? I’d not be so sure. You can feel it throbbing.”

  And I could feel it. A powerful, pulsing throb, every one inducing a fresh wave of nausea. I looked involuntarily—and watched in horror as my forearm bulged and deflated in sync with the pulsating pain.

  Then the skin split like an overcooked hot dog. Blood sluiced from the gash, and the agony shooting through my arm felt damned convincing.

  “It’s not real,” I sputtered, frantically searching my memory for the word. The one Taeral used to find the tracking spell. To reveal it.

  I didn’t quite remember, but I sort of…translated. “Nochtaan,” I said.

  The illusions vanished, including the one that had frozen my legs. So I palmed the loose cuff, stepped forward—and punched Reun in the face with it.

  A sizzling sound rose from him, and he hissed and stumbled back. There was a crescent-shaped burn on his cheek. His eyes narrowed for an instant.

  Then he laughed and held a hand out. “Na boegth.”

  This time, I couldn’t move anything.

  “Perhaps I did underestimate you, just a bit,” Reun said. “You’ve such a rudimentary understanding of magic, and I cannot understand why. But you are…creative.”

  I tried to think a sarcastic response at him. He probably didn’t hear it.

  “Your brother, now. He is quite formidable. He might’ve defeated me, but for some reason he suppresses his full power—and he doesn’t seem aware of this. You may want to inform him, should he survive long enough.”

  There was a sound behind me, a kind of shuffling slither. And a voice said, “There you are, my delicious little prize.”

  Murdoch.

  The two goons suddenly swung into action, full-on open fire at what I assumed was the bogeyman’s position. Reun just stared…curiously at first, and then with dawning horror. He started shuddering in place.

  Suddenly, I could move again.

  I sagged and caught myself before I hit the ground, half-turning toward the bogeyman to thank him. But I didn’t get the words out. The form he’d taken was tall and slender, pale-skinned, with ethereal features and a waist-length cascade of sea foam green hair—so beautiful, it hurt just to look at her.

  Reun’s worst nightmare was a woman.

  The goons were still firing to no effect. “Could you take care of those insects for me?” the Murdoch-woman said, and even her voice was achingly sweet. “He’s all mine now.”

  “Yeah. Er…thanks.”

  I shook myself and turned to deal with the thugs.

  When they saw me coming, they decided to ignore that whole don’t-shoot-him thing. My crooked-glamour defense held until I was within two feet, and one of them got lucky and aimed for my heart. The shot took me in the shoulder.

  I let it spin me back, and then grabbed his arm and twisted, snatching the gun as it fell from his fingers. As I blew his throat out, the other one snagged the loose cuff and pulled me toward him.

  The momentum straightened me into a clear shot at him. I actually managed to blow his brains out from a foot away, instead of point blank.

  Great. I was getting better at murdering people.

  As the second thug fell, a fresh wave of dizziness dropped me to my knees. I stayed there panting for a few seconds, trying to gather what strength I had left. My leg throbbed where I’d been shot—for real, just as painful as Reun’s illusion had been—and I could feel the cold iron burning inside me. Smears of blood decorated my wrist around the cuff. I was starting to shake with the fever.

  But there was still a fight going on. Time for me to join it.

  CHAPTER 48

  Mass confusion roiled around the train.

  There were bodies everywhere, living and dead. Grygg stood motionless on the platform, a good fifteen feet back from the action, with chunks blasted from him here and there from the gunfire. I had to assume Reun had done something more permanent to him. If it was the same deal as what he’d done to me, the golem would’ve been moving by now.

  Denei and Zoba had somehow managed to wedge themselves under the cage cars, into the recessed track below. Cover from the fire, but not enough maneuvering room to aim a shot. They were exchanging potshots with the soldiers and occasionally hitting a leg or a groin. When they dropped a body, it was hauled away, and the sporadic fire resumed.

  Sadie was all but down. In wolf form and growling steadily, she paced a rough circular clearing formed by soldiers. She stumbled every few steps. Every time she fell, one of the soldiers would reach in and zap her with a cattle prod.

  I didn’t see Taeral or Foley anywhere.

  It looked like all the Milus Dei troops were on this side of the train now. If I could get across the tracks, maybe I could slip into the engine car and open the cages. Some of the Others in there looked like they could help.

  No one had glanced my way yet. I didn’t have a lot of spark left, but I managed to glamour myself a set of body armor and head for
the action, gun drawn so I looked like I was participating.

  I reached the tracks, jumped down behind the machine car. And I found Taeral.

  He was lying across the channel at Abe’s feet, tossed down like garbage. Eyes closed, hand curled around one of the metal handles set into the side of the track channel like he’d been trying to climb out—and had just given up.

  “Taeral!” I shoved the gun in my waistband, went to him and shook him, sending a pained glance at Abe. Still unconscious. I really didn’t want to leave him there, but it’d take time I didn’t have to wake him and get him moving. I could at least cut those ropes in case he came around on his own, though.

  “Taeral, come on,” I called as I scrambled over to saw through Abe’s bonds. “Don’t be dead.” I finished cutting the last rope and jumped back to Taeral, shoving him again. “Wake up, damn it!”

  His eyes opened slowly—and he went rigid and pulled back in alarm.

  Oh, right. The glamour.

  “It’s me. Gideon,” I said. “Can you move?”

  He shook his head. “We’ve lost.”

  “Remember what I said about the fat lady? Still hasn’t sung.”

  “Reun is too strong,” he muttered.

  “Not anymore,” I said. “Murdoch is…uh, snacking on him. Now move, before someone realizes I’m not shooting you.”

  Just when I thought I’d have to leave him there too, he clenched his teeth and pushed up awkwardly from the ground. “You’ll not give up, will you?” he said with a sardonic smirk. “My vow to protect you will be the death of me yet.”

  “Probably,” I said. “Let’s go.”

  We managed to heave out on the other side of the tracks. Taeral apparently had a little spark left, because he called up a Milus Dei glamour for himself, complete with left arm—though it kind of hung lifeless at his side. “We’re getting the keys,” I said, striding for the engine car. “Any idea where Foley ended up?”

  He frowned. “You did not finish him?”

  “Er, no. Reun happened before I could.”

  “Damn him. I should have—”

  “Hey. If you don’t stop beating yourself up, I’m gonna take over for you,” I said. “This was my stupid plan, remember?”