Wrong Side of Hell (The DeathSpeaker Codex Book 1)

by Sonya Bateman

  He huffed and rolled his eyes, but there was a slight smile in them. “You’re right,” he said. “It was. I blame you.”

  “Great. You can sue me when it’s over.”

  The keys were right where poor, dead Tom said they were. In retrospect, I should’ve been suspicious of that. The chief knew I’d found out where they were, and he hadn’t moved them. But I grabbed them anyway and tossed them to Taeral. “Let them out,” I said. “I’m going to look for Foley.”

  That was when the world imploded.

  There was a vast humming sound, like a power transformer about to blow. The entire train shuddered. And then a shrill shriek drilled into my ears, so loud it was almost a physical sensation.

  I knew where Foley was now. He’d turned the machine on.

  I clapped my hands over my ears and dropped to my knees. It didn’t help. The same sensations I felt when dead people spoke assaulted me, all at once—piercing, tugging, fishhooks in my brain. Dozens of them. My eyes watered involuntarily, and through my blurred vision, I made out Taeral on the ground, flattened by the force of the engine.

  All the rest of the Others were down, too.

  With tremendous effort, I struggled to my feet and started lurching toward the back of the train. My glamour was gone—all of it. Every movement was like swimming through wet concrete, and every step sent bright knives of pain through me, straight to my head.

  I’d reached the second cage car when Foley rounded the back of the train and headed for me with a triumphant grin.

  “You can still save them,” he said. “Surrender. Let me chain you up like a good animal, and I’ll turn the engine off. I’ll let them go.”

  “Why? So you can…hunt them down again, after you torture me for their secrets?” I gasped. I struggled another step forward. Blood burst from my nose and poured down my face.

  “Well, I do enjoy the hunt,” Foley said, and tipped a quizzical frown. “How are you still moving? Your brain should be jelly by now.”

  It sure as hell felt like that. Jelly full of thumbtacks and razor blades, actually. But I wasn’t admitting that to him. “Tell you a secret,” I panted, trying to get to the gun unnoticed. “I hate hunters.”

  He laughed. “Your hatred won’t fuel you forever.”

  “Maybe not.” Another agonizing step brought me within two feet of him—and my eardrums popped, one after the other. Hot fluid drizzled down my neck. “But that isn’t…what’s fueling me.”

  While he glared directly at me, I slid the gun out. He wasn’t looking at my hands. “I don’t suppose you’ll tell me what is, then?” he said. “You’re Fae. You should be on the ground, frying from the inside.”

  “I’m half human, you son of a bitch.”

  I brought my arm up fast, and shot him point-blank in the gut. When he bowed over, I shot him in the head. Just to be sure.

  I grabbed him before his body hit the ground. The pain was immediate and terrible, but I gritted my teeth and held on while he screamed obscenities in my head.

  “How do I turn the machine off, asshole?” I shouted.

  YOU CAN’T. I FORCED AN OVERRIDE.

  Every word ripped at my brain. Foley laughed in my head, and the sound produced shockwaves of agony.

  I let go of him, tried to draw a breath, and staggered for the back car.

  Somehow, I had to stop that thing.

  CHAPTER 49

  By the time I hauled myself through the back door of the old rail car, I could barely move. Standing was out of the question. I collapsed on the floor and stared up at the rows of lights and switches and dials lining every wall, including the huge, flashing red one at the far end. Which, I guessed, was the override warning.

  So pushing buttons until one of them shut it down was out.

  Thinking wasn’t easy with the relentless noise and a brain that was now made almost entirely out of sharp and jagged points. Blood flowed freely from my nose and ears. My only choice was magic, but I could sense I didn’t have much left. My spark was a single banked ember, smothering under the weight of the engine.

  Even if I had enough spark, I didn’t know the right words for “turn off the death machine.”

  I closed my eyes. Without visual input, my thinking capacity improved by a fraction or two. I remembered something Taeral said about the stone—it stored moonlight, but it also amplified my spark. So if I activated the pendant, maybe I’d have the juice to pull something off.

  I just didn’t know what.

  “De’ársahd,” I croaked anyway. Even with my eyes closed, I felt the light of the moonstone. It was soothing, almost comforting. Something I’d always sought out without ever knowing why, for as long as I could remember. Moonlight was my ally.

  The haze of pain and pressure eased slightly, and a completely unfamiliar phrase floated through my mind. I spoke it aloud.

  “Dhuunad sios’na.”

  The silence was so loud, I didn’t even realize at first that the shrieking engine had stopped.

  When I did, I promptly passed out.

  The next thing I knew was a confusion of jumbled images. Everything flashed light and dark, on and off, and an occasional familiar face swam through the morass. Sadie. Taeral. Zoba, looking strangely friendly.

  Something cold and hard pressed against my back. At least it was too big for a gun. I focused on the sensation, trying to figure it out, and the rest of the world started to sort itself. I was lying on the concrete floor of the platform next to the tracks. The flashing light was a stuttering neon tube directly above me.

  Then I heard gunfire.

  I bolted upright and immediately regretted the decision. Everything tilted and slid, and my whole body throbbed like a broken tooth. My vision blurred and doubled.

  “Don’t move, you idiot.”

  Sadie. I was glad to hear her voice, even if it sounded like she was talking through a mouthful of cotton. Probably because of my busted eardrums. I blinked at the blur in front of me until it looked more Sadie-shaped. She seemed off somehow, until I figured out she was wearing a Milus Dei uniform that didn’t exactly fit. She’d ruined her last change of clothes when she went wolf.

  I didn’t bother smiling—that would hurt too much. “You’re not dead,” I said, moving my mouth carefully. “Hooray.”

  “We’ve all managed to survive, somehow.” That was Taeral. I felt him take my arm gently. There was pressure at my wrist, a click, and the cuff fell off. Must’ve taken the keys from Foley.

  Suddenly I remembered why I’d sat up. “Somebody’s shooting,” I gasped. “Are they still—”

  “Just a little cleanup,” Sadie said. “Most of those bastards ran off when Taeral opened the cages. Can’t imagine why. I mean, you’d think there was a vengeful mob after them or something.”

  “Yeah. Something like that.” I slumped with relief and closed my eyes, letting some of the dizziness slough off. When I opened them again, I could see a little better.

  At least enough to realize that Sadie was crying.

  “You don’t look like we all survived,” I said.

  She sniffled. “Yeah, well, we thought you were dead. You sure looked like it.”

  “I’d say I feel like it too, but it can’t hurt this much to be dead.” I flexed a hand and winced. “Next time, somebody else is in charge of the planning,” I said. “Mine always end I pain.”

  “Yes, but they also succeed,” Taeral said. “How did you withstand that machine long enough to shut it down?”

  “With a couple of busted eardrums and a shredded brain.” I managed a tired smile. “I’m a halfling, remember? The human part of me kept going.”

  A strange expression settled on his face. “Fascinating,” he said. “Perhaps your human side is not the crippling disadvantage I’d believed.”

  I would’ve laughed, but it hurt. “Oh, I’m sure there’s a downside,” I said.

  Just then, Denei and Zoba approached from the opposite side of the tracks and stopped at the edge. “Hey, we
’ve got the big boy up and running again,” she called. “Easier this time. They just flipped his off switch. You still alive, handsome?”

  I managed a thumbs-up.

  “Good, ’cause you might wanna do something about your little human friend,” she said. “He’s tryin’ to arrest Reun.”

  Shit. I’d forgotten about Abe.

  “Well, stop him!” I said, trying to get my legs under me. Wasn’t working out too well. “He’s going to get himself killed, damn it.”

  Denei laughed. “Honey, Reun ain’t capable of hurting anyone now. He has left the building, if you know what I mean. I’m more worried your friend’s gonna break him before we get the chance to really make him suffer.”

  “Fine. Great. But I still have to get to him.” I doubted Abe knew much about what was going on, and he might try to arrest someone who could fight back. I tried again to stand.

  Taeral slipped an arm around me and helped me up. I was glad to notice he had two of them again. “I’ll take you,” he said. “Though I’m not sure how we’ll cross the tracks.”

  Zoba looked around for a minute, then walked briskly to the right. He bent and grabbed the edge of a wooden platform stand set into the concrete. Grunting, he ripped it free with a grinding, tortured shriek, carried it back, and plopped it down across the channel.

  “Oh,” I said. “You made a bridge. Thanks.”

  Zoba grinned his pointed-tooth skull grin.

  With Taeral’s support, I limped across the makeshift bridge and up the length of the station toward the stairs, where I could see Abe standing over a handcuffed figure on the ground. Another figure stood next to him—Murdoch, arguing with him over something.

  As we got closer, I realized Murdoch’s face was almost normal in full light.

  “…jurisdiction of the NYPD!” I heard Abe shout. “He’s under arrest. If you don’t step back, you will be too.”

  “I’m telling you, little brother, you don’t want that fish,” Murdoch said. “Toss him back.”

  I slowed, glanced at Taeral, and took a few careful steps toward them on my own. At least I didn’t immediately collapse. “Hey, Detective,” I called. “What’s the word?”

  He froze and turned cautiously in my direction. “Gideon?”

  “No, it’s Cleopatra. Queen of denial.”

  “Jesus jumped-up Christ. What the hell happened to you, kid?” He strode toward me, his face a mask of anxiety. “You all right? You look like hell dragged you through the sewers and dumped you in a blender.”

  “Yeah. You’re not looking so hot there, yourself.”

  “Tell me about it,” he groaned. “You were right. The chief’s gone full nut-balls. He shows up at my place babbling about monsters among us, tells me I have to come down and witness some historic surrender. Like he’s goddamn General Grant. Next thing I know, Foley’s showing off a bunch of people in cages, he’s proud of it for some reason, and this blond asshole’s shooting up little girls, or…something.” His brow furrowed. “Feel like I got hit by a goddamned train,” he muttered. “And you look like it.”

  “Yeah, well you almost were,” I said. “Foley was going to kill you. And all the people in those cages.”

  Abe shook his head slowly. “Why?” he said. “I just don’t get it. I mean…” He trailed off and stared past me. “That. Is a walking statue,” he said. “And those are…teeth.”

  I frowned and moved to Abe’s side. The rest of them had joined Taeral—Sadie, Denei and Zoba, Grygg. Behind us, Murdoch was circling around to the other side. “Um,” I said. “Costume party?”

  “Bullshit. What’s going on here, kid?”

  Murdoch moved in front and grinned at me. “Relax, little brother,” he said. “Your friend here’s got a mind like a steel trap. He’s built for the truth. I couldn’t even find anything to scare him with…and that’s saying something, for a human.”

  Abe bristled. “Who’re you calling human—uh, wait a minute.” He blinked rapidly. “The park murders,” he said. “That was a…werewolf.”

  I sighed. “Yeah. Those ‘victims’ were working for Foley. They’re the bad guys,” I said. Abe, you don’t seem all that surprised by the werewolf thing.”

  “Of course there’s werewolves,” he snapped. “Haven’t you ever seen the pen on a Saturday night? It’s a goddamned zoo. Besides, I…er, saw one, once. Out in Brooklyn.”

  “You did?” I gaped at him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  He snorted. “Not the kind of thing you bust out on the job, is it?” he said. “Hey there, nice night, by the way I saw some guy turn into a wolf, how was your weekend?”

  I laughed. At least that explained why he was so anxious about working the Central Park case—and relieved to be off it. “Yeah, I guess it’s not that kind of thing,” I said. “I’m kind of glad you did see it, though. Makes this easier.”

  He looked at me with wide eyes. “You’re not a werewolf…are you?”

  “Nah,” I grinned. “She is, though.”

  Sadie coughed and gave a weak wave.

  “Oh,” Abe mumbled. “Well. What about the rest of ’em?”

  “You sure you want to know?”

  “Hell, there’s already a werewolf,” he said. “How much worse can it get?”

  “All right.” I shook my head and pointed out each of them in turn. “Bogeyman. Fae. Golem. Er…swamp-sucking hellions. No offense, Denei.”

  “None taken,” she said. “Right, Zoba?”

  Zoba made a noise that could definitely be taken as offensive.

  Abe’s jaw dropped. “I stand corrected,” he said. “Maybe it could get worse.”

  “Listen, Abe…I really don’t think you should arrest anyone here,” I said. “You know that Foley tried to mass murder all these people, and you right along with them. You’re the only one who can put all this through official channels and keep it under wraps. There won’t be any backlash.”

  He frowned. “The chief—”

  “Is dead.”

  “Oh. And I’m guessing I don’t wanna know how that happened.”

  “Not really.”

  “Okay, then.” Abe sighed and pulled out his handkerchief, started to mop his face—then winced and put it back. “Damn. The paperwork on this is gonna suck.”

  “Thanks, Abe,” I said. “I owe you one.”

  “Yeah you do,” he grumbled, and then smiled. “But I get the feeling I owe you one back. Thanks for saving my life, kid.”

  “Any time.”

  Abe swept a last worried glance over the group. He turned and headed for the stairs, shaking his head and muttering under his breath. I watched him go, unable to hold back an incredulous smirk. He really had taken all this well—maybe too well.

  “Okay,” I said, turning to the group. “Now what—”

  “Goddamn it, Officer, I said fall back!” I heard Abe shout.

  I looked. A couple of Transit Authority uniforms had come in at the top of the stairs and stood gaping at the scene. “Sorry, sir, we heard gunfire…” one of them stammered.

  “Well, I’m here, aren’t I?” Abe thundered back. “Do you hear any now? No, you don’t! The situation is under control.”

  “Yessir, but shouldn’t we call dispatch?”

  “Clear out, or I’ll have your badges!”

  The TA cops backed away, almost stumbling over each other in their haste to escape. Abe grunted and strode through the door, slamming it shut behind him.

  All right, so maybe he was taking it just well enough.

  “You tell ’em, Abe,” I said, mostly to myself. I had a feeling our professional working relationship was going to be a little different from now on.

  But this change would be for the better.

  CHAPTER 50

  The abandoned underground station looked a lot smaller with all these Others in it.

  They’d kept the fire in the center of the platform burning while we were gone, and Daoin seemed to be holding court there. At least he was feeling bet
ter, I guess. Couldn’t hear what he was saying from here by the entrance, but he’d gotten a group of them spellbound with it, including Lo.

  After a quick head count and body check, Taeral and I had pulled back to figure out what was next. Some of the new ones we’d rescued from the death train had drifted off while we walked the subtunnels back here, and a few who’d been waiting at the station had elected to strike out on their own. Right now, we had a group of twenty-six assorted homeless.

  Six of them were Duchenes. They outnumbered everything else.

  Technically there were twenty-seven, but right now Reun was more like furniture. The Seelie was practically comatose and still wearing Abe’s cuffs. He blinked occasionally. Other than that, he just kind of stayed wherever he was put. Which at the moment was seated on the bench next to us, so we could make sure the status didn’t change.

  Murdoch had taken his leave, and left his prize. Apparently, he couldn’t eat another bite of Seelie terror. But he did threaten that he’d come around again sometime.

  Taeral looked toward the fire, shaking his head. “I’ve no idea what to do with Daoin,” he said. “He’s docile enough, but…it does not feel right, ordering him about.” He bowed his head. “Truthfully, I’ve not the heart for it.”

  “Well, maybe he’ll get better,” I said. “Everything takes time for the Fae, right? This is the first time in how many years that he hasn’t been basically swimming in cold iron?”

  “Perhaps,” Taeral said without much conviction, turning away from the scene. “But I suppose we’ve a larger problem at the moment.”

  “Yeah. I’d call this large,” I said. “I’d let everyone move in with me, but my van’s only rated for an eight-person capacity. Five, if one of them’s Grygg.”

  Taeral raised an eyebrow. “That’s right. I’d forgotten that you live there.”

  “Well, I did, until Foley impounded it. Hopefully Abe can get it back for me.” I drummed my fingers on my thigh and winced when I was painfully reminded about the bloody hole through it. Sadie had dug the bullet out for me before we left the Forty-Second Street station.