Night Terrors (Sarah Beauhall Book 4)

by J. A. Pitts

  I know the book had something to do with it. It may not be the cause, but it was involved. The way it pulsed in time with Katie’s heart beat freaked me out a little. Part of me wanted to burn the book. I just didn’t know what would happen.

  This was so far out of my league.

  What the hell was I going to do? I knew deep down I was going to have to open that book, explore the pages within. The very thought scared the crap out of me. If me mucking around hurt Katie, I couldn’t live with myself.

  In the meantime, I’d try and keep life as normal as possible for Jai Li. What else could I do? I’d figure something out, eventually.

  Seventeen

  I split my time between Circle Q and the hospital in Kent. Katie hadn’t made any further progress. The doctors had her on an IV but said she didn’t need any extraordinary life support. She was fairly strong. She just wasn’t waking up.

  Reminded me of Gletts, the elf boy who’d fallen fighting the wraiths last October. He was in a similar state, body on pause, but his spirit was gone, fled into the mirror land—the sideways. Was that what had happened to Katie? Could I see the thread that tethered her spirit to her body if I slipped sideways?

  I’d seen the silver thread that connected the various spirits to the bodies of the wounded when I visited the house of healing at the elf compound in Vancouver. Those lines were so fragile it amazed me we managed to survive all this time.

  Maybe that’s what I had to do. Maybe I needed to go walkabout, get my astral projection on and see what I could see with Katie. Was worth a shot. I hadn’t done it in a while. I’m sure it wouldn’t be any harder than it had the last time I did it, up in Chumstick. Only this time, I hope I don’t run into the spirits of any more serial killers. There was that one guy in the top hat that totally freaked me the fuck out. He was bad news of a special sort. Like dragon level pain.

  Flight Test was on hiatus and Julie was managing the smithing work without me. The rent was due on the apartment and I think I had enough in my account to cover that and the utilities. Would make things like gas and groceries a little thin, but we’d make do. Hell, being out at Circle Q saved us a ton on food. Those women sure loved taking care of Jai Li and me.

  They had JJ’s funeral a week after he died. It was strange thinking about my life without him in it. The guy was a pig and I’d wanted to stab him on more than one occasion, but he’d been changing. Wendy had done something to him, or maybe he had already begun to change which is what made the whole Wendy thing possible. Either way I was going to miss the guy and that is not something I’d have thought in a million years.

  I discussed it with Julie and the girls and we decided to leave Jai Li on the farm with them instead of taking her to the funeral. She was so young and had been through enough hard times in her life. Besides, she was pretty freaked out about Katie still and I didn’t want to add any more stress than we had to.

  The funeral was at the Universalist church over in West Seattle. I’d never been there, but it had a good sized hall. I got there thirty minutes early, only to find the place almost completely full, with more folks coming in.

  I grabbed a seat with the rest of the Flight Test crew. Jones and Carnes made it a point of corralling me and sitting me between them with a box of tissue shoved into my hands. My people. I didn’t deserve either of them, but luckily no one asked my opinion.

  After the preacher spoke, people began to go up to the podium and give their remembrances of JJ. I was feeling a bit nauseous at that point. You’d think the guy was up for a Nobel Peace Prize or something. I must have voiced my incredulity a little too loudly, because Grandma Jones dug her elbow in my ribs and gave me a scathing look.

  I shrugged innocently and sat back, listening to the testimonials.

  I held it together with my sarcasm and cynicism intact right up to the point that Clyde got up and spoke.

  Clyde had pulled his thick, shoulder length gray hair back into a ponytail and trimmed his usually unruly beard into something neat and stylish. He had on a pretty good suit, like from a suit place, not a throwback to the eighties or something. He looked nice.

  His voice had that gravel edge of a pack-a-day smoker and it reminded me that he and JJ would stand out back of the studio on their breaks and talk about the women on the set. Since Wendy had showed up, however, that behavior had gone to the wayside. It’s like they both wanted to be a better person by knowing her.

  He spoke of friendship and second chances. Carnes was crying quietly and I was having a hard time in that arena myself. I was fighting the tears and had begun to work up a head of pissed-off-by-it-all when Clyde finished. I didn’t really hear his closing remarks, my brain was firing too quickly. Too many memories, too much pain. I wish Katie was here beside me instead of Carnes and Jones. They were nice enough people, but I missed Katie.

  Wendy spoke for a couple of minutes, and then JJ’s parents got up there and hugged her, thanking her for loving JJ. The father spoke of an honored son, how proud they were with his success and finally finding someone as wonderful as Wendy. Then the mother pulled the father away from the podium and the preacher came up again. There was to be a graveside service

  The crowd began to break up and I moved to the side of the hall, watching as small clumps of people consoled one another, or as individuals shuffled out, heads down. Skella stood in the far back, closest to the door, with several kids I didn’t know. Probably part of the Bellingham crew she was hanging with these days. She waved at me at one point and they all left, heading for their car. I didn’t follow. I could see her later, and I was in no mood to meet new people.

  Once the crowd had thinned down to a mere trickle, I paid my condolences to JJ’s parents, spent a few minutes letting Wendy hug me, then headed out a side door, hands in my pockets and my mind pinging all over the map, worry and anguish about Katie blurring the world around me.

  I couldn’t do this with her as the guest of honor. I think I’d die of heartbreak. I had to do something, figure out what the hell had happened to her. I couldn’t lose her.

  I pushed out through one of the side doors and stopped, shocked. Sitting in a wheelchair beside a dark blue Hummer was Frederick Sawyer. His able assistant, Mr. Philips, stood behind him, one hand on the wheel chair, one hand holding an umbrella over Mr. Sawyer, blocking the weak sun.

  They were talking to Qindra and Nidhogg.

  My heart began to race. Nidhogg was out of her house again? And at a funeral? What the hell was going on in the world?

  I strode across the parking lot, my eyes boring a hole in the back of Qindra’s head, willing her to turn around.

  Nidhogg saw me first. She stood to the right of Sawyer, leaning on her cane with one hand on Frederick’s shoulder. This made Mr. Philips uncomfortable, by the way he kept glancing down at that hand. Nidhogg said something too quiet for me to hear, but all four of them turned, facing me, expectant looks on their faces.

  “Good,” Nidhogg said. “Now that we are all here, we need to find a quiet place for lunch. I’m starving.”

  I stopped in my tracks. “I’m sorry, what are we discussing?”

  Qindra smiled at me and Mr. Philips nodded.

  “Lovely to see you,” Frederick Sawyer said.

  The man looked haggard. Doubly so since he was also a dragon, and even in his human guise, he had always been a shining example of virility and good health. Now he looked broken and drained.

  “I know a quiet place,” Qindra said. She took a card from her jacket pocket wrote something on the back and handed it to Mr. Philips, who glanced at it and nodded.

  “Very good,” he said, his voice calm and smooth.

  He wheeled Frederick away to a Hummer. Qindra motioned for me to follow her and Nidogg to a Town Car that was waiting in the back of the lot.

  “Ride with us, Sarah,” Qindra said. It wasn’t a request. I shrugged and caught up with them, walking on Nidhogg’s right.

  She placed her hand on my arm as we walked, letting he
r set the pace with her cane. The tok-tok-tok of the cane on the blacktop parking lot mirrored the pounding of my heart.

  What the hell was going on? My mind, over-flowing with thoughts of Katie, was suddenly in full panic mode. Nidhogg had only left her house once in a few centuries, and that was this past winter solstice, when we fought the necromancer and his blood cult.

  Nidhogg in her full glory was a sight to behold. She was both beautiful and terrible, but I hadn’t killed her, hadn’t killed Sawyer either. Oh, the sword wanted me to, in a big way, but I held my ground, let Nidhogg shelter a broken Sawyer under her wings.

  And now we were all going to lunch like an old family. There was something critical I was missing, and I didn’t like surprises. Especially not when the dragons were involved.

  Qindra glanced at me over the top of the car, just before she got in. Her face was stoic, but she gave me a quick wink.

  Okay, maybe I wasn’t going to be killed right away. Not that any of them had considered it lately, but I was going to worry.

  The thought of it all kept my mind split, the anguish of Katie tempered by the spiraling unknown.

  Eighteen

  We ended up at a small Mediterranean place off Anchor. Qindra spoke to the little man who was doing the seating and he swept us into a back room, segregated from the rest of the restaurant. Without us ordering he placed hummus and pita bread, along with a collection of other spreads: olives, pickled garlic, and feta cheese.

  There was a pecking order to our seating. It was not spoken of directly, but Nidhogg sat next to Sawyer. The servants sat beside their respective masters, and I sat opposite them, a Ronin amidst the vassals and lords.

  Nidhogg ate quietly, scooping hummus, fat green olives, and chunks of feta onto a triangle of pita and nibbling them into oblivion. After a minute, Frederick began to eat, which was the signal for Qindra and Mr. Philips. Once they had both taken their first bite, the old man scampered into the room and poured glasses of water, tea that smelled strongly of mint, and some pale golden wine with a rich fruity bouquet. I stuck with the water.

  By the time the hummus and the rest were mostly devoured, large dishes of moussaka, lamb, rice, and little morsels wrapped in grape leaves arrived. Every dish was passed and we waited for the proper order before taking the first bite of the next course.

  This went on for three more courses, including a hearty lentil soup, and ending in a small dishes of dates and figs.

  The food was amazing and I ate pacing Nidhogg. When she ate, I ate. When she stopped, I stopped. This felt like a ritual and I didn’t want to be the one to blow the rhythm.

  Once the food was cleared and we were served thick, dark coffee in tiny cups, Nidhogg nodded at Qindra. She sat her coffee down, cleared her throat and the show began.

  “Things have shifted,” she began, glancing at me briefly before settling her focus on Frederick. “There are forces moving on the periphery, forces that seek to overthrow the natural order of things.”

  Frederick waved his hand, dismissing her words. “There are always wolves in the wild lands. Every now and again one pulls down a sheep, but that is no reason to panic.”

  “Be quiet and listen,” Nidhogg chided him, prodding his elbow with her cane. “Let the girl finish her speech.” She winked at me, which was the weirdest thing. “She’s been practicing,” Nidhogg said, nodding her head toward Qindra.

  Qindra blushed, cleared her throat, and went on. “We believe the time is drawing near for a closer alliance between our two kingdoms.”

  Frederick looked surprised by this, and Mr. Philips took out a notebook from his breast pocket and began to scratch down notes.

  “Nidhogg—She Who Must Be Obeyed …”

  Nidhogg grinned and nodded once.

  “… believes that we must pool our resources, reach out to those who currently govern Vancouver and prepare for dark days ahead.”

  I yawned. I couldn’t help it. I had not been sleeping well with Katie in the hospital, and all that food was dragging me down.

  “Drink your coffee,” Nidhogg said, motioning to my untouched cup. “The caffeine will keep you awake.”

  The coffee was very strong and very sweet. If it had had chocolate I may have orgasmed.

  Qindra droned on about borders and tariffs, obligations and treaties. My head just wasn’t in the game, right up until my name came into the picture.

  “Therefore,” Qindra continued. “We propose that Sarah Jane Beauhall be given diplomatic immunity within our two kingdoms, and be given free rein to pursue our enemies with limited interference from either ruler.”

  “Wait a moment,” Frederick said, sitting up in his wheel chair and scowling. “You propose to let this dragon slayer have free reign within my protectorate, and I’m expected to turn a blind eye?”

  Nidhogg sighed. “Be reasonable, Frederick. Of course the girl will check in with you or Mr. Philips when in your territory, I just want it established that she has my blessing and yours, if you’ll agree. It should help smooth things over if my worries begin to become reality.”

  Mr. Philips leaned in to whisper something in Frederick’s ear. Whatever he had to say, Frederick didn’t like the words. A grim look flitted across his face for a moment, then his mask of reasonableness and cooperation fell back into place.

  “I see now why you’ve brought her here,” Frederick said, looking at Nidhogg. “I do not forget her part in rescuing Mr. Philips, nor your own, mother, in protecting me there at the end of the that unfortunate business over the winter solstice.”

  Nidhogg nodded at him.

  “But why do you feel she would have need of anything within my borders?” he asked, genially.

  There was definitely a hint of something there—something he was afraid to have exposed. Something that Mr. Philips had felt the need to warn him about.

  Interesting.

  “I appreciate all this,” I said, speaking up for the first time. “I realize our relationships have evolved”—they all four looked at me like I’d grown a second head—“but I’m not a tool to be passed around at your whim. While I am more than willing to entertain a partnership between us …”

  Nidhogg coughed and Frederick laughed out loud.

  “Partnership?” he managed. “You an equal?”

  I sat back, crossed my arms over my chest and grinned. “If you’d rather consider me an adversary, I can plan for that as well,” I said.

  “There’s no need for threats,” Nidhogg said, waving Frederick’s next emotional outburst down.

  I shrugged and flourished one hand, signaling that she should continue.

  Qindra looked slightly affronted, and a little amused.

  Mr. Philips’ face was a mask of stone, though his eyes did flick toward me briefly.

  Frederick was stunned, his eyes wide and his mouth slightly open. He was definitely out of his element.

  And Nidhogg, that sly old beast. She looked at me, a twinkle in her steely eyes and a smile on her lips. Either she was going to back me up here, or kill me. At the moment, I wasn’t sure which way she was going to go, but I knew I was in no mood for their feudalistic bullshit.

  “I think ‘partner’ is a bit presumptuous,” she said, her voice oily and smooth. “But she has a point.” She turned to Frederick and gave him her most regal glare. “There is precedent amongst the council for one such as she.” She gave me half a nod and looked up at Qindra. “Qindra, darling. What do they call those landless gentlemen in the Orient that wander around doing good deeds, selling their swords to the righteous?”

  “Or the highest bidder?” Frederick asked.

  “Ronin,” Qindra said, echoing my earlier thought. “I believe that is the word you are searching for, Mistress.”

  “Ah, yes. Ronin. I do think our Sarah here is similar in calling, don’t you agree?”

  “Yes, Mistress.” Qindra looked relieved. I hadn’t noticed how tense she’d been until I saw her relax. She seemed to shrink a full inch.


  “But she fights for love and honor,” Nidhogg said, returning her gaze to Frederick. “She does not seek wealth or personal gain. I have seen this for myself over the last year.”

  I knew she’d been watching me, following me around, magically if not physically.

  “And what of that band of hooligans she has aligned herself with?” Frederick asked.

  “The ones that put their lives on the line for the likes of Mr. Philips?” I asked. “That bunch that died in fighting the bastard Jean-Paul?” I could feel the heat rising in me. I hated the look of condescension on his face.

  “You dare?” he gasped. “To openly boast of such deeds? To even conceive of them is a crime punishable by death.”

  It was Nidhogg’s turn to laugh. Her voice was brittle and sharp. “Flesh of my flesh,” she spat at Frederick, who recoiled. “It is my judgment in that matter which holds sway and I have forgiven the girl.”

  I looked at Qindra, who ever so slightly shrugged the shoulder away from Frederick. This was a surprise to her as well.

  “Jean-Paul debased himself, fell from his position of glory and earned his fate. You of all should know that to the victor go the spoils.”

  Frederick growled low in his throat and for a moment I saw the fire reflected in his eyes.

  Mr. Philips leaned in once more and whispered something to Frederick. I had the feeling that despite her advanced age, Nidhogg had no trouble hearing what the man said. Mr. Philips seemed to know it as well and was unconcerned. I couldn’t make anything out, and that seemed good enough for them.

  Are you suggesting, “Frederick began, “that this …” he searched for the right words, and I watched him closely, waiting for the misogyny to spew forth.

  “… this woman,” he finally spat out. “Who at best should be servicing me in my bed, should be granted lands and titles as befitting one of our kind?”