Nightshade (17 tales of Urban Fantasy, Magic, Mayhem, Demons, Fae, Witches, Ghosts, and more)

by Annie Bellet

  He owned a bit of real estate in the city. Over a few centuries, he’d amassed a decent amount of wealth, and he guessed he could blame his demonic nature in wanting to hoard as much as he could. So he bought buildings. Most of them, he didn’t do anything with, but once he’d started assembling a team to help him (and so he could keep a closer eye on those supernaturals he actually somewhat liked) he’d started renovating an empty warehouse near Midtown. It was perfect for his needs: underground parking garage, huge storage and living area. Each member of his crew had their own room, and there was an enormous living room/training area where they could spar. It was mostly him and Brennan that did that, but sometimes Stone, George, or Veronica, their other crew members, would join in. Though, lately, George and Veronica had spent most of their time staring stupidly at one another. Sappy shit. He was going to have to talk to George about that.

  He entered the garage with a sense of relief mingled with frustration.

  Another night and not a sign of her.

  When he got out of his car, he noticed Brennan’s SUV in its usual parking spot. Maybe he’d had better luck.

  Nain pulled the metal gate aside for the service elevator, closed it, and hit the button to get up to the loft. It was the only way in or out of the living quarters, which Nain liked. Made it easy to defend.

  Not that he’d had to. He seemed to have a reputation as someone you didn’t want to fuck with. Which was accurate.

  When the elevator creaked to a halt, he got out and unlocked the door into the loft. He barely noticed the gleaming wood floors, the exposed brick walls, the enormous windows that looked out onto Detroit’s Cultural Center. Brennan was standing in the kitchen shoveling Chinese food out of a takeout container, but he looked like he barely even knew what he was eating. Faraway look in his eyes, eating automatically as he leaned against the counter in the kitchen.

  Brennan. Second-in-command, adopted son, kind of. What some people would consider his closest friend. Demons don’t have friends, but he guessed that if he did, Brennan would be it. He was an annoying little shit though, and most of the time when Nain looked at him, he still saw the nine-year-old who’d ended up on his doorstep after his parents had died. Since they’d died in the line of duty, fighting alongside Nain, he had little choice but to do right by them and take the kid in. They’d managed okay, he guessed. Brennan was in his early thirties now. Trained by Nain himself, raised to be a warrior, he was irreplaceable. He’d taken time to travel, found a love of martial arts, and could outfight anyone on the team, including Nain. Add to that the fact that he was a shapeshifter… yeah. Nain could admit to himself that he was proud of the little shit. Not that he’d ever tell him that.

  “Any luck?” Nain asked, and Brennan seemed to shake himself out of whatever was on his mind.

  “Huh?”

  “With the Angel. Any luck?”

  A strange look crossed Brennan’s face, like a veil coming down, or something, like he was trying not to show any emotion at all. He probably thought he was subtle about it, but Nain saw it, and seeing the change in Brennan was all the proof Nain needed that something was up.

  “Yeah. I saw her,” Brennan said in a flat tone.

  They were the words Nain was hoping to hear, but he hadn’t expected them. It also didn’t explain Brennan’s weird mood.

  “So? What’s the story? What did you see?”

  Brennan turned and put his fork in the sink, tossed the takeout container in the trash can. He seemed to be holding himself stiffly. Weird rigidity to his posture. He shrugged. “She’s what we’ve heard. Tiny chick, barely five feet tall. Dressed all in black. Black hair. I lucked out, I guess. I was over on the east side, since I haven’t had any luck on the west side,” he said, and Nain nodded. “I was sniffing around behind one of those shitty little bars, and I heard a woman scream, and then the sound was cut short. I followed it, thinking I could help if it became necessary, and then I smelled someone else nearby. I saw this chick sticking to the shadows, following the same sound I was. So I hung back, because I realized that she matched the description.”

  He stopped, and Nain noticed that his breathing seemed to be elevated. He watched the shifter closely.

  “Anyway,” Brennan continued. “I followed her, then. And it turned out that she’d heard the woman, too, and she was on their trail. We came out of the parking lot and ended up behind a factory, and there were two guys there, with a woman pushed up against the wall, and she was trying to get away. I was ready to jump in, but she beat me to it.”

  “What happened?”

  “It was the craziest damn thing, man,” Brennan said, shaking his head, and, was that a hint of smile? “She jumped at the one holding the woman, grabbed him by the balls, and he shrieked. She had his ass down, screaming on the ground and was onto the second dude before they even knew what was happening. I heard her tell the woman to run—”

  “What does her voice sound like?” Nain interrupted, and Brennan gave him a weird look. “It might help me track her down.”

  Brennan furrowed his brow, an irritated look crossing his face before he rearranged his features into something more neutral again. “Quiet. Kind of low. Not, like, manly low or anything. Just.. not a sweet kind of voice, you know? Mostly, she was just quiet, but I did hear her talking to the two guys after the woman ran off, and she could give you a run for your money in the cussing department.”

  “What did she say to them?” Nain asked.

  “She basically just told them to never do that shit again. I’m pretty sure she broke the second guy’s hand when he tried to pull a knife on her,” he added. “The guy screamed, and then she told him to shut up, and he did. Anyway, she told them that if they ever did anything like that again, she’d know, and they really, really didn’t want to run into her again, because she’d chase them down and they wouldn’t get off so easy next time.” He laughed a little. “She says this as they’re both writhing, crying on the ground. And then she said something else, but it was so quiet I couldn’t hear it.” He met Nain’s gaze. “The power coming from her, man. She freaking dwarfs you in terms of power.”

  Nain found the open admiration in Brennan’s voice annoying.

  “So then what happened?” he asked, aware that he was beginning to get pissed. Which wasn’t all that hard to do, because it’s what demons do, but for some reason Brennan was pissing him off more than usual.

  “After whatever she said, I heard her tell them to leave, and they did.” He had that closed-down expression again, and Nain kind of wanted to punch him.

  “That’s it? They just left?”

  Brennan nodded.

  “What then? Did you talk to her?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because what the hell was I supposed to say? ‘Hey, I’ve been stalking you because my demonic boss told me to. How’s it going?’ I don’t think so.” He paused. “I watched her walk away, and then I came back home.”

  “You didn’t follow her?” Nain asked incredulously. “What the fuck, man? We’ve been trying to find this broad for weeks, and then you finally find her and you just let her walk off?”

  “I think we should leave her alone,” Brennan said, crossing his arms over his chest.

  “What?”

  “Just leave her alone, man. She clearly doesn’t need our help, and she’s fighting the good fight, just like we’re trying to. Let it go.”

  Nain studied Brennan. “What happened? You seem edgy and stupid.”

  Brennan raised his middle finger at Nain, then crossed his arms again, that blank expression on his face.

  “You sure she didn’t talk to you? Tell you to tell me to leave her alone?”

  “Pretty sure I’d remember that, dickhead,” Brennan said. “Just let it go.”

  “Did you miss the part where she’s probably a telepath? Except one that can fucking make people do her bidding? You don’t see why she’d be considered a danger?”

  “She’s
doing good things. It’s not like she’s using her power for her own gain, or causing trouble. She’s saving women and girls and sending assholes to jail. Leave her alone,” he said again.

  “She’s a possible threat, and it’s our job to keep tabs on that shit. I want to talk to her.”

  He was pretty sure he heard a low growl from Brennan, but in the next instant, Brennan was walking away, toward his room.

  “We’re tracking her again tomorrow night. Together,” he called after Brennan, and he got a raised middle finger and what sounded an awful lot like another growl in response. Moody little bastard, Nain thought as he watched Brennan’s bedroom door close.

  One thing was for sure: she was pretty much what he’d feared, and he needed to find her and either contain her or eliminate the threat. Brennan could put his faith in the idea that she was one of the good guys, but one thing he knew about telepaths was how easy it was to take things too far. He’d done it himself. All demons have some telepathic power, and he seemed to have a little more than most. A lot more than most. It was easy, alluring, to use abilities like his for one’s own gain. She might be okay now, but how long would it be before she realized that she could have anything she wanted, just by planting a thought in the right person’s mind?

  If he knew one thing from hundreds of years of experience, it’s that anyone can eventually be corrupted. It was just a matter of when.

  ***

  Nain was stooped over the desk in his office. The rest of the team was out on patrol, which meant he had some peace and quiet for once. He glanced up at the bulletin board in his office, at the newspaper articles he’d tacked up there, then marked another location on the map on the desk. He sat down with a grunt and stared at the map for a while, waiting for something to make sense.

  There was a light knock at his door, and Brennan poked his head in. He glanced at the bulletin board, at the map spread out on the deal.

  “Well, this looks pretty much like stalker central,” he said. He sat on the edge of the desk and looked at the series of circles Nain had made. Locations where the Angel had been spotted. Supposedly.

  “There’s no rhyme or reason to this shit. You’d think she’d focus on a certain part of the city or something,” Nain grumbled.

  “Do we?” Brennan said in response, and Nain didn’t answer for a while.

  “She’s one woman. We’re a team with alliances and shit. It doesn’t make sense.”

  “I don’t think she’s focusing on geography. She’s going after particular targets. She’s tracking down women who go missing. That happens all over the city. If that’s her thing, I don’t think she’d bother saying ‘oh, that’s a block out of my area. Too bad.’”

  Nain took a breath, which was better than slugging the cocky shifter. “I can’t believe you just let her walk away last night.”

  Brennan didn’t say anything for a while, then he shook his head. “I think I know where to find her. You’re not letting this go, I guess.”

  “How do you know where to look for her? She’s been a step ahead of us all this time.”

  Brennan’s expression closed own again. “It’s a hunch.”

  “A hunch?”

  “Do you want to go find her, or not?”

  “Just tell me where.”

  “Oh, no, asshole. You’re all ‘I have to eliminate the threat.’ I’m not just turning her over to you.”

  “What the fuck do you care? And you’ve been there eliminating threats right alongside me for years.”

  “Yeah. So I know you. I’m going with you.”

  “Fine. Meet me in the garage in five.”

  Brennan nodded and left, then Nain grabbed his truck keys and left the loft, taking the elevator down to the parking garage. He got in his truck and started it up, and then he saw Brennan coming toward the truck. He got in, and Nain pulled out of the parking spot and toward the exit.

  “Where are we going?” he asked Brennan.

  “Start heading for Hamtramck.”

  “Where in Hamtramck?”

  “Just head that way. Let me think,” Brennan snapped, and Nain shook his head. He sniffed the air.

  “Are you wearing cologne?”

  “Fuck off.”

  Nain laughed. “Ah, I get it now. Is she pretty? You have a crush on the nutty telepath broad?”

  Brennan barely suppressed a growl, and Nain laughed again. They didn’t say anything else, and when they got closer to Hamtramck, Brennan started telling him which way to go. Nain did what he said, doubtful that it would come to anything.

  “How are we figuring she’s here again?”

  “Gut feeling. And I got an unreliable tip, maybe,” Brennan said.

  “That doesn’t even make sense.”

  “Neither do you, most of the time. Just drive.”

  A few minutes later, Brennan said, “park here.” Nain pulled the truck up to the curb and they got out. Brennan pointed to a bakery, with a ladder that led to the roof. Nain nodded, and they climbed it, landing on the roof. It was dark, streetlights lending a bluish light to the mostly-streets below. There wasn’t anyone around for several minutes, and Nain was about to say something when Brennan held his hand up and pointed toward the alley. There was an empty lot behind the bakery, nothing but a pile of junk people had dumped there. Nain saw two guys enter the alley, walking in a leisurely fashion, talking and laughing. He glanced at Brennan, wondering if the shifter had finally lost it. Brennan held his hand up again, and then pointed subtly toward the empty lot, ducking closer to the chimney as he did, as if trying to avoid being seen. Nain did the same as he looked toward where Brennan was pointing.

  He felt her before he saw her.

  Fucking hell.

  Power swirled around them, over them. It was like standing outside during a tornado. Brennan hadn’t been kidding; her power made his (which was considerable) feel like nothing. He looked more closely at the empty lot, barely noted the two guy still walking, though they seemed more subdued. Even clueless Normals could sense power that potent, even if they didn’t know what it was. Nain kept looking.

  There. Skirting around from behind the junk pile. She matched every description those she’d saved had ever given. Tiny, thin woman. In the meager light from a nearby streetlight, he could make out dark hair, pale skin. She was dressed all in black: black cargo pants, long-sleeved black top. She moved with the deadly stealth of someone familiar with the hunt, the confidence of a predator.

  And her every thought was broadcasting as she tracked her prey.

  Just a little closer maybe I can hit them when they get behind that dumpster what the hell is that? Feels weird. Must be nothing. Nerves. I want to hurt them.

  And then she began thinking what he could only describe as a litany of names:

  Amy Barswell, Janeta Lawry, Michelle Hawkins, Daria Eddson, Jayla Rose, Christine Morgan, Betty Sawicki…

  Each name seemed to steel her, and she moved faster, more determined.

  “Going home, boys?” he heard her call out. Not being quiet or subtle. He tensed, watching every move she made, waiting to see if the two assholes were going to do anything. He glanced at Brennan and noted the same tension in him, but more. His gaze never left her, and his breathing was wild, shallow. His entire posture was tense, as if he was ready to spring if he needed to.

  Nain shook his head and turned his attention back to the Angel and the two guys.

  “Yeah. We don’t need no hookers tonight,” the larger guy said, and the little guy with him snickered.

  “Oh. Well, I’m not a hooker,” the woman said. Nain leaned forward. “She’s gone, you know,” she added.

  “Who?”

  “The girl you had tied up and gagged in your roach-infested shit hole of a house down the block from here,” she said, and the ice in her voice, the malice there, was absolute. Both of the guys in the alley stopped. The little guy stared at her, and the big one raised his hands questioningly.

  “What are you talking abou
t, you dumb bitch?”

  Her thoughts were a cacophony. Assholes why do they always resort to calling women bitches too many bruises on Sandy hospital police they’re gonna pay for that I think I’ll break some things.

  “You know what I’m talking about,” she said in that same cold voice. “Escorted her to the hospital myself, where she gave a report. The police are trying to get a warrant right now.”

  “What the hell?” the little one said.

  And then the big one lunged for her. She was outweighed by at least a hundred pounds, dwarfed by well over a foot. When any sane person would have run, she stayed put.

  And she laughed.

  In the next instant, Nain saw the big guy’s head snap back, hard, from an uppercut she must have delivered. He couldn’t even see her around the guy. All he knew was that the next thing he saw was the guy falling, his knee bent at a weird angle, screaming and swearing. Crying. Her thoughts were victorious, angry as she turned her attention to the little guy.

  He and Brennan must have both seen the glint of a knife blade at the same time. They both stood, ready to get involved, when she laughed again.

  “Put it down, asshole,” she said, her tone calm, commanding.

  The little guy immediately dropped the knife, and she kicked it away.

  “Get on the ground,” she ordered him, and he dropped so quickly he may as well have fallen.

  Both men were on the ground, crying.

  As Nain and Brennan watched, she started talking. She crouched beside their prone forms, and she talked. Whatever she was saying to them was terrifying; their thoughts were a jumbled, panicked mess that Nain couldn’t even begin to sort through.

  A few more words, and then Nain heard her say the words “it will be done.” Her power snapped, sending a torrent of raw power out everywhere, so strong Nain felt nauseous with it. Another glance at Brennan showed he was just as enthralled with her as he’d been before.

  The woman, the Angel, as she was being called, stood up, looked down at the two men for a moment, and then took off, blending into the shadowed night as if she’d never been there at all. All he could feel was her power, and that was fading as she got further away.