Black Spring

by Christina Henry

  “You are going to have to put added protection on the house to guard against hostile magic,” Jude said.

  “Yeah, and we still have to search the house for any potential infestations,” I said, and explained about the back door being left open.

  “Let us hope there are no more rat-demons in the house,” Jude said.

  I remembered cooking one of the horrid little things in a pan, torturing it so I could find out who had sent it to spy on me. That had been a real low point in my recent history.

  “I hope so, too.”

  “One point is certain,” Nathaniel said. “There is no need to exhaust ourselves chasing down the shapeshifter. His master is clearly interested in you, and thus the creature will find some way to approach you, either in the house or on the street. Perhaps the gargoyle should escort you whenever you leave the house.”

  Beezle paused in the act of shoveling half a sandwich in his mouth, his expression horrified.

  “You do realize that you’re proposing he sacrifice both his daytime television habit and the illicit snacking that he thinks I don’t know about, right?” I asked.

  “I should think,” Nathaniel said with a pointed look at Beezle, “that your safety would take precedence over talk shows and soap operas.”

  “It does,” Beezle said. “But I’m not sure it takes precedence over chips and dip.”

  Samiel smacked him in the back of the head and Beezle spewed out the half-chewed sandwich. “What was that for?”

  You know.

  “Oh, come on, Maddy is more important to me than snacks,” Beezle grumbled. “Anyway, I didn’t think you were paying attention.”

  I can read lips.

  “But I thought you were looking at your food.”

  “Most people don’t focus on their meal to the exclusion of everything else,” I said.

  “So it is settled, then?” Nathaniel said, cutting us off before our bickering spiraled down further. “The gargoyle will stay with you whenever you leave the house. He is the only being that can see the true essence of the shapeshifter. It would be too easy otherwise for the creature to approach you in the guise of J.B. or someone else you know.”

  “He’s going to have to stay on my shoulder at the wedding like a mutant parrot. It would be too easy to approach me there.”

  “Wedding? What wedding?” Beezle asked. “I don’t know anything about a wedding.”

  “Uh, yeah,” I said, patting my pockets. “I left the invitation in the suit that was covered with squid blood.”

  “So whose wedding are we going to?” Beezle demanded.

  “Lucifer and Evangeline’s,” I said.

  Beezle looked from Nathaniel to me. “When did this happen?”

  “When we were at the Ghirardelli shop,” I said.

  “Wait—you had time to go to the Ghirardelli shop between confronting Alerian and completely destroying our block? And you went without me?”

  “Isn’t this business of a wedding more pressing than chocolate?” Jude asked.

  “Nothing is more important than chocolate,” Beezle said.

  “I don’t like the idea of you at Lucifer’s wedding,” Jude said. “Too many opportunities for an attack on you.”

  Or for someone to attack Lucifer and for you to get caught in the cross fire, Samiel said.

  “I will be with her,” Nathaniel said.

  “And J.B. will be there, too,” I said. “Unfortunately, attendance is not optional.”

  Samiel stood up abruptly. I just remembered. I noticed something when I picked up the mail outside.

  “Oh, the mail,” I said. “I forgot about it after I tossed it on the lawn.”

  Samiel retrieved the packet from the side table near the front door and brought it to me, bottom side up. Lucifer’s seal was on the back of the envelope.

  I pulled the letter out of the rubber band and turned it over.

  “This is for you,” I said to Jude.

  The werewolf took the envelope from me with a fierce frown. He did not like anything that had to do with Lucifer.

  “There’s another one,” Beezle said.

  I turned it over. This letter was addressed to Samiel. There was another for Daharan, and even one for Beezle, who seemed thrilled that he had gotten a personal invitation.

  “I’m totally bringing a video camera,” Beezle said. “I know people who would pay good money for video footage of Lucifer in a cummerbund.”

  “So we’re all invited,” I said slowly. “Even Beezle.”

  “Like I would have stayed at home anyway,” he said.

  “But the point is that Lucifer made absolutely sure you would show up. All of you,” I said, looking around the table.

  We are your team, Samiel said.

  “But does he want you there to back me up in case things go pear-shaped? Or does he want to take you all out in one shot so I’m left alone and vulnerable? Or does he want to hold you hostage in order to get me to do what he wants?”

  “Regardless, you are not going alone,” Nathaniel said.

  “And who’s to say we could all be, as you put it, ‘taken down in one shot’?” Jude asked. “None of us are weaklings. Even the great and mighty Lucifer won’t be able to destroy us without a fight.”

  “I just wish I knew what his game was with this wedding in the first place.” I said. “He’s a law unto himself. He doesn’t need an American wedding to give Evangeline legal rights. And for all his talk of an heir, I can’t see that he needs one. Lucifer and all his brothers are immortal, older than the galaxy. Their parents are creatures that were born with the formation of the universe, and according to Daharan they are still alive, although sleeping. Which is apparently a good thing for humanity, because they are powerful and short-tempered.”

  “Not like anyone we know,” Beezle muttered.

  “The point is, why now? Why marry Evangeline? Why all the fuss about an heir? Why threaten the relative stability of his kingdom by bringing everyone together in one place? He’s practically guaranteeing a war will start,” I said.

  “Alerian is attempting to start a war also,” Nathaniel said.

  “Are they looking for an excuse to go at one another?” I asked.

  “I think it’s pointless to try to anticipate Lucifer’s plans,” Jude said. “Unless we get more information between today and the wedding day, we should focus on the problems before us. The shapeshifter. Alerian. The mayor’s plan to fence off anybody magical and different.”

  “The giant dead squid in the front of our house that’s not going to get moved anytime soon and already stinks to high heaven,” Beezle said. “And it’s not even rotting yet.”

  I pushed away from the table. “And we still have to check the house for infestations. Samiel and I can start up on this level. Nathaniel, you and Jude can check the apartment downstairs.”

  I gave Nathaniel the spare key. He looked at me. “What if Daharan is in the apartment?”

  “I don’t think he is,” I said. “I can’t believe he would have ignored that ruckus up front. Or that he wouldn’t have come upstairs to check and see that I survived the encounter with Alerian. Anyway, it’s my house and he’s not paying rent.”

  “Very well,” Nathaniel said, his face doubtful. He and Jude went out the front door so they could start searching from the foyer.

  I was getting really sick of defending Daharan. None of the others would trust my instincts on this but I knew he would not harm me. Or double-cross me. I knew it.

  Samiel seemed to sense my irritation and resultant need for space. I’ll just clean this up and then start looking around the kitchen.

  I nodded and went into the living room. Instead of starting the search, I went to the edge of the picture window, peering out at the activity in the street while trying to stay out of sight of anyone looking up.

  “Why don’t you just veil yourself?” Beezle said.

  “I shouldn’t have to veil myself in my own house,” I said.

  �
��But it’s okay to hide in the shadows like a criminal in your own house?”

  “I’m trying not to flaunt the fact that I’m here. Why waste Samiel’s cute-dumb-guy routine?”

  Beezle muttered something to himself that I could not hear.

  “What was that?” I asked.

  “Nothing,” Beezle said, but he had a look on his face like he was continuing to mutter in his head, and whatever he was muttering wasn’t very complimentary.

  I moved away from the window. There wasn’t much going on right now anyway. Several police cars and fire trucks were parked around the monster’s carcass. The street was blocked off at both ends by police barriers.

  We lived close to the end of the block, and a crowd of people and a couple of news vans were on the other side of the police tape. I wasn’t sure what human infrastructure would be able to do about the dead nightmare in the street. Drag it away with a crane?

  Maybe later, when Daharan came home, we could figure out a way to clear it out. Since I’d made the mess, I should probably clean it up. Although half the responsibility was Alerian’s. Unfortunately, he probably wouldn’t see it that way. He’d just be pissed that I managed to escape his monster.

  For now I needed to focus on the very real possibility that something small and nasty had taken advantage of the open back door. Pretty much every magical creature was unable to enter a home without a verbal invitation. Some little things, though, had such a weak magical aura that the rules were a bit more flexible. An open door could be an invitation to a creature like that. They followed the letter of the magical law, but you never actually asked them in.

  Certain creatures behaved a lot like their real-world counterparts. If you got a pair of rat-demons in your wall, good luck getting them out. They were proficient breeders, and once the female started dropping litters, the only way to get rid of them was to hire a magical exterminator. In the meantime the demons would eavesdrop on every conversation you had and sell your information to the highest bidder.

  No, this was definitely not a problem that I needed right now. I cast out my power like a net, my eyes closed. I could “see” all the magical energy within the reach of my net. The shapes of Beezle and Samiel were clear in my mind’s eyes, as were the dogs, the aura of their power showing up inside my net.

  I scanned the walls and the furniture thoroughly, looking for anything out of the ordinary. There were no living creatures on this floor that didn’t belong, but there was something on the floor, something that looked almost like a rapidly dissolving paint trail.

  “The shapeshifter,” I said.

  7

  I dropped to my hands and knees to peer at it more closely. The trail was dissolving even as I looked at it.

  “No,” I said, crawling along the floor, my nose pressed to the ground.

  The dogs thought I must be playing some kind of game and hopped off the couch to join me, their tails wagging playfully.

  “Not now,” I said impatiently as I scurried along after the trail.

  “What on earth are you doing?” Beezle asked. “I can’t decide if you look like a basset hound or a really fat cockroach.”

  “I’m not fat. I’m pregnant,” I said automatically. “And I think I found the magical signature of the shapeshifter, the spell he used to lure Lock¸ Stock and Barrel outside. If I could just get a good look at it, I might be able to lock on to it and track it.”

  As I said this I continued following the trail down the hall between the kitchen and the dining room. Lock and Barrel padded after me curiously.

  “So what’s the problem?” Beezle said, landing on my shoulder and pressing his cheek against mine so he could peer down at what I was looking at.

  “It keeps dissolving,” I said. “Almost as soon as I look at it. Do you see that?”

  I pointed to the disintegrating trail.

  “Yes,” Beezle said, sounding intrigued. “It’s almost like the act of focusing on it is making it disappear.”

  “What am I supposed to do, then, glance at it out of the corner of my eye? Pretend I’m not looking at it? How am I supposed to track this thing down if there’s no magical signature to trace, no scent trail to follow? It doesn’t even have the same appearance from one moment to the next.”

  “It is pretty much the perfect enemy,” Beezle agreed. “It seems when Alerian designed these creatures, he thought through every permutation and possibility and made absolutely sure those doors were closed.”

  I came to my knees and fisted my hands on my thighs. “And if Alerian did that when he was creating a monster, then what chance do I have at stopping any of his other plans?” I said. “He’s sure to have considered every angle already, and I don’t even know where to start.”

  Beezle patted my head as I watched the magical trail disappear. “Don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll figure it out. And if you don’t, you can always fall back on your de facto solution—flames, explosions, total destruction.”

  “You know, I try not to use those methods,” I said.

  “There’s a giant octopus outside that would beg to differ if only you hadn’t set him on fire,” Beezle said.

  “You’re the one who told me that fire destroys all things,” I said.

  “I didn’t realize I’d created a pyromaniac,” Beezle said.

  There was a sudden thunder of footsteps on the back stairs, like someone was running up in a hurry.

  “That doesn’t sound good,” I said, trying to stand. “Help me get up.”

  “You want me to help you? Do I look like the Hulk?”

  “Then get Samiel,” I said, breathless and annoyed.

  I couldn’t seem to figure out this whole weight-on-the-front thing when I was on the ground. Every time I tried to get up, I’d roll back on my butt like a Weeble.

  A second later the back door flew open and Jude came in, his face pale. He paused in the kitchen, his gaze moving toward the center of the room. It was out of sight from where I was in the middle of the hall, but I could hear the clatter of porcelain and running water as Samiel washed the dishes, which meant his back faced Jude.

  Jude looked indecisive for a moment, then came to me and helped me to my feet.

  “What is it?” I asked, searching his face. “Was there something in Daharan’s apartment?”

  He shook his head. “You need to come to the basement. And make sure Samiel stays here for now.”

  A cold ball of dread formed in my stomach. “Beezle, will you stay here and distract Samiel?”

  “Aww, but I want to see whatever they found,” he said.

  “Gargoyle, can you not do as you are told for once in your life?” Jude snapped.

  “Jeez, okay,” Beezle said, flying off my shoulder and down the hall. “Fly off the handle, why don’t you?”

  “You know he doesn’t mean any harm,” I said.

  Jude indicated I should follow him. “Sometimes levity is not appropriate.”

  I followed him though the kitchen. Beezle had Samiel crouching in front of the open refrigerator so that the door blocked any view of us passing. I felt like we were unfairly taking advantage of Samiel’s deafness.

  I didn’t speak until we were on the stairs. “It’s Chloe, isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” Jude said. “Nathaniel does not want you to see what was done to her.”

  “He’s worried about the effects of stress on the baby.”

  “And normally I would agree with him,” Jude said. “But this is your home, and I feel you have the right to see what has happened inside it.”

  “And you’re correct,” I said. “He can’t protect me no matter how much he wants to.”

  Nathaniel stood at the bottom of the stairs, his arms crossed and his eyes snapping. I knew he had heard every word.

  “Is it not enough for you to know she has died? Must you personally witness every spatter of blood?”

  “You act like I’m a rubbernecking ghoul,” I said. “Jude’s right. It’s my home. If it’s been violate
d, then I should know how.”

  Nathaniel did not respond. He dropped his arms and led us through the laundry area to the door of one of the two storage rooms. This one was for the tenant of the first-floor apartment, but as far as I knew, Daharan had never put anything inside it. The coppery-tang scent of blood was strong here even before Nathaniel pulled the door open.

  It took a long time before my eyes could figure out what they were seeing. The small space looked like a slaughterhouse. It’s easy to forget how much blood the human body can hold. That is, until you see it painting the walls and floors.

  All of Chloe’s organs had been removed and then diced and tossed around. The only reason I knew it was Chloe was because her head was intact, her eyes wide and accusing.

  “She must have suffered horribly,” I said. I was too sad to be angry. “There was no reason to make her suffer. She wasn’t a threat to anyone. I don’t want Samiel to see this.”

  “I did not want you to see this,” Nathaniel said.

  “So noted,” I said, sighing. Chloe and I had not always seen eye-to-eye, but I would never have wanted this for her. And Samiel loved her, and I didn’t know how I would tell him about this. Every death was another weight on my heart, and some deaths hurt more than others. This was one of them. “What I want to know is who did it, and how. Anything magical and powerful enough to do this wouldn’t have been able to get in, right? So it would have to be a human. But what human would break into my house just to kill Chloe?”

  “A human who came at the behest of some master,” Jude said, his eyes sad. Jude had always liked Chloe, who had figured out how to restore the memories of the pack’s cubs after they were kidnapped. “A human who came for one of us, but instead stumbled on Chloe, who was likely poking around looking for Samiel. And that human didn’t even have to break in. The back door was wide-open.”

  “I think the two of you are deliberately ignoring an obvious perpetrator,” Nathaniel said. “Chloe is in Daharan’s space. And Daharan is missing.”