Adrenaline raced through my blood, and my body tightened in response. I snarled, baring my teeth. ‘What do you want?’
A wicked smile lit its nasty face.
Hungry …
The creature licked his lips with a sickening, sloshing sound. My stomach threated a revolt. Thaddeus didn’t have to say more. I knew he wasn’t talking about grilled hamburgers.
‘Kitchen’s closed tonight,’ I hissed. ‘But I’m sure you can find some nice rats to feed on in the woods.’
He threw his head back, exposing hideous fangs as he laughed. The teeth oozed with an oily substance that ran over his lips and dripped from his chin. He sniffed the air; eyes without pupils gleamed with primal intensity.
Want … Gypsy … flesh …
My wings strained harder, pulling the nylon straps taut against my chest, making it difficult to breathe. I planted my feet and met his glare. ‘Leave.’ I panted against the surge of instincts flooding my head. ‘Now.’
His inhuman eyes flicked to my wrist. Then, with a movement too fast for me to counter, he grabbed my arm. His massive talons scraped over the skin of my dandelion tattoo. His foul smile widened.
How … will … she … taste …
We were in each other’s faces like rabid dogs: circling, snarling. My vision blurred the more I tried to focus. My insides felt like they were ripping apart. Thaddeus made the first move. With a speed that stole my breath, he hurled me to the ground. The force rattled my skull as the creature’s weight crushed air from my lungs.
Talons struck my face. The pain released fury, which detonated in my veins. I slammed my forehead against the bridge of his nose. The creature screeched. It jerked me to my feet, tearing my shirt, and flung me through the air like a rag doll.
I nailed the corner of a trailer. The metal crumpled. I ricocheted to the ground, tasting dirt. I heard another shriek, and I rolled violently to the side, dodging the massive talons. My fist cracked across his jaw. The creature skittered over the ground with more force than I expected. Its body left a deep groove in the gravel. I lunged, but its wing smashed into me like a wall of iron. Blackness and stars swirled my vision. Another hit knocked me into orbit. I saw the glass of the trailer window. I threw my hands up protectively. Glass shattered. My body crashed to the ground.
Everything hurt. I curled into myself, head in the dirt, my body shaking. I clutched at gravel, crushing it in my hands in an attempt to hold myself together. My lips pulled away from my teeth. I had to focus, to think, but I couldn’t. I was losing it.
‘No,’ I pleaded. ‘Please … no …’
I gasped for air, suddenly drowning in the instincts that clawed up my throat, ripping me apart. I was slipping away, and there was no holding on – not this time. My teeth ached. My eyes burned. I heard a wild roar, felt it reverberate through my bones. It was mine. My wings snapped their nylon straps.
My vision went red.
Instinct consumed me. Drove me. Infected me like poison. I was helpless to stop it, and unwilling to try. I was free. All that remained was motion, borne of pure adrenaline. I felt every movement, every blow and excruciating pain. But my world was only a swirl of red and black, a rush of senses. Primal rage and animal fury.
At some point, I became aware of men shouting. The haze around me cleared. I returned to myself. My mouth tasted like gravel, and something warm and sticky trickled down my chin. Fierce growls echoed in my ears. With a sudden jolt, I realized the sounds were coming from me. My world snapped into focus.
I was on the ground, crouched over the stone corpse of the creature. Its grotesque face was frozen in an expression of gut-wrenching pain, and its stretched neck looked mutilated, as though someone had taken a pick and cut chunks from the stone. Around the body, purplish-black blood pooled and coagulated. I wiped my mouth. My hand came back covered with the same blood. It ran down my neck and under my shirt. My throat stung with nausea.
What had I done?
Dark shadows moved over the ground. Nicolas stood over me, Phillipe and Stephan at his side. ‘Dear God,’ he whispered.
I staggered to my feet, swaying under the effects of adrenaline and instinct. The Marksmen trained their bows on me. I raised my hands defensively. ‘Came out of nowhere.’ My voice remained thick and growly. Not quite my own. ‘He attacked.’
My legs buckled, threatening to give way as Nicolas waved the Marksmen back and knelt beside the stone corpse. Its blood had dried and turned to black dust. Nicolas looked steadily at me. ‘I know, Sebastian,’ he said. ‘We saw you kill it.’
I wiped at my lips again, brushing off the now powdered blood. I could still taste gravel in my mouth. I turned away from the body, feeling sick. ‘No,’ I whispered, my voice cracking. ‘I … I didn’t mean to. It … attacked me, and then I … I don’t know what happened.’
Nicolas continued on as though I hadn’t spoken at all. ‘I knew my faith in you had not been misplaced. Well done.’
‘But I—’
The sentence died in my mouth. I didn’t know what to say. What I’d done to Thaddeus – or how I’d done it – was sketchy in my mind, like fragments of a nightmare. Aftershocks of adrenaline rumbled through my body, making me lightheaded. I clenched my fists against my high-strung impulses and tried to breathe.
Nicolas pointed to Phillipe. ‘Clean this up.’
The Marksman pulled a pouch from his pocket, and sprinkled a sparkling powder over the corpse. The stone figure cracked and crumbled, then turned to dust. The wind caught the remnants, and soon, nothing remained of the shadow creature. I stared at the empty ground, a heavy weight pressing on my chest. Would my death look like this? Would my ashes disappear with the wind as though I’d never existed at all?
‘I’ll inform Quentin,’ said the Marksman as he slipped the pouch into his pocket.
Nicolas’ expression turned stern. ‘No. You will tell him nothing of this.’
‘But sir,’ Phillipe protested. ‘A chimera infiltrated our camp.’
My breath caught like jagged glass in my throat. I stared at the spot where Thaddeus’ body had been just moments before. A chimera? How was that possible? It was Thaddeus. I tried to speak, but my mouth felt full of sand.
‘The chimera is dead, thanks to our gargoyle,’ said Nicolas. ‘I will speak to Quentin myself about this incident.’
Phillipe nodded. ‘I’ll round up the dogs, and we’ll do a perimeter sweep of the camp. Make sure no more of the beasts are lurking about.’
Nicolas turned to me, and I saw the question on his face. I sighed and closed my eyes, sniffing the air, letting my instincts give the answer he sought. The putrid stench was gone. I shook my head.
‘Good,’ said Nicolas.
But the Marksmen didn’t put their weapons away.
‘If you don’t mind,’ said Stephan. ‘I’d rather use our own resources.’
Nicolas waved his hand. ‘Yes, of course. Go ahead.’
The Marksmen dipped their heads and sprinted across the caravan. As soon as they were gone, I sank to my knees. My head felt like it was splitting open, and I reached up to rub my temples. My hands encountered something hard, protruding from my skull. I sucked in a sharp breath. Nicolas’ eyes drifted to my forehead.
‘Karl,’ he commanded.
I glanced up, unaware that Karl had been standing a few yards away, watching the scene. The circus trainer approached and smiled with a doctor’s disarming demeanor. ‘May I?’ he asked. I nodded. Karl took my chin in his hand, tilting my head from side to side. ‘The scratches shouldn’t take long to heal,’ he said. I winced, remembering the way the creature had sliced at my face. ‘That was some impressive fight, Sebastian.’
‘I don’t remember much of it.’
‘Probably for the best,’ he replied, glancing over his shoulder briefly to where Thaddeus’ body had been. ‘As you develop your skills, you’ll learn better control. But your protective nature will ultimately always take charge.’ Karl’s gaze shifted to my temples. ‘
As to these, well, I imagine tonight’s events must have brought them on.’
I stared at him, confused. ‘Brought what on?’
Karl reached up, his fingers wrapping around something just over my right temple. ‘This,’ he said simply, and he gave a small tug. My head snapped forward in tandem.
I swallowed hard. ‘It’s what I think it is, isn’t it?’
Karl’s expression said it all. I rose and stepped past him to the trailer window – the only one I hadn’t smashed with my durable gargoyle hide. I peered at my reflection in the moonlight. Two horns protruded from my skull, just above my temples. Each was roughly the length of my thumb but twice as thick, twisted with black spirals, and curling into my hair.
‘Well,’ I said. ‘It looks like my modeling career for Gargoyle Weekly is really going to take off now.’
The circus trainer suppressed a gentle laugh.
Nicolas approached, his green eyes glinting with firm determination. ‘I’m going to speak with Quentin,’ he said. ‘Sebastian, I’d like you to meet me in my trailer in half an hour.’ Nicolas looked past me. ‘And Karl, I want you there as well.’
‘Of course,’ he replied.
Nicolas disappeared behind the trailer.
Karl put a comforting hand on my shoulder. ‘Well, Sebastian,’ he said, looking me over. My jeans were filthy, my shirt bloodstained. The remains of my nylon straps hung limply from my shoulders. ‘Let’s get you back to your trailer. I think you’re going to need a change of clothes.’
Twenty minutes later – after I’d cleaned up and Karl treated the scratches on my face – he and I were on our way to the Romany’s trailer. I’d left the nylon straps behind, and my gargantuan wings were hanging freely behind me. I ran my fingers absently across my shirt. It felt strange to be without my bindings. But there was no point in trying to hide from the Gypsies anymore.
Or from myself.
We strolled in silence for a while. I flexed my wings hesitantly, getting used to the new freedom. They seemed larger than they were before the fight. I curled and uncurled them, like flexing my arms with weights. The muscles felt more developed, and my mastery over them was better. I sensed Karl watching me, his presence calming, unthreatening.
‘So, how are you feeling, Sebastian?’ he asked after a few moments.
‘Karl, I killed someone tonight.’
He pulled up abruptly, staring hard into my face. ‘No, Sebastian. That was not a person. It was a chimera, an evil abomination.’
I’d washed away the taste of gravel from my mouth, but my stomach remained nauseous, and guilt and dread churned together like a bad meal. I glanced back to the clearing where we’d fought. ‘He didn’t used to be.’
‘What do you mean?’
I shuddered, feeling suddenly cold. ‘He was at the bonfire last night. I never saw him, but I heard his voice in my head. At first, I thought it was the grotesque talking, but all I felt from it were primal emotions – no logical thoughts. The voice was different, and I recognized it. I just didn’t know from where until tonight.’
‘So the legends are true,’ said Karl. ‘Shadowen do communicate telepathically.’
‘Yeah, I guess so,’ I replied, my throat tight. ‘But the point is … I knew him, Karl. He was with Augustine, when they first tried to recruit me. This wasn’t some mindless killer. His name was Thaddeus, and he was a gargoyle once.’
‘One of Augustine’s gargoyles?’ questioned Karl, his wrinkled face darkening. ‘No, that’s impossible. As I told you before, gargoyles and chimeras are two completely different kinds of shadowen. You share no more in common with them than you do those vermin grotesques.’
‘Yeah? Then how do you explain him? The last time I saw Thaddeus he looked like me. How do you know we’re different?’
‘Sebastian …’
‘I just sprouted horns, Karl,’ I continued, shaking my head fiercely. ‘Not to mention the fact that I’m trying to break the world record for longest wingspan. The list of differences is getting pretty short.’ I stared at the ground. ‘You said yourself that shadowen knowledge is sketchy. What if you’re wrong? What if we’re all the same?’
‘Listen to me.’ Karl grasped my shoulder. His grip was strong, as though he was determined to hold me together, to make me understand. ‘A few physical changes don’t mean you have anything in common with that thing. Chimeras were created as weapons, used during the dark times when our people sought power, even at the price of their own blood. They are savage brutes – killers bent on revenge. Gargoyles fought against them. They saved us from ourselves.’ He placed his other hand on my opposite shoulder and turned me to face him. ‘The chimera is an animal. Its instincts are driven by primal desires. Yours are borne out of protection and duty. There’s humanity within the gargoyle. And that makes you different.’
‘But I can’t focus my instincts half the time!’ I growled, pulling free from his grasp. ‘I feel like I’m all over the place. My emotions are on a constant roller coaster. My senses are all screwed up. When does it end, Karl?’
He studied my features carefully. ‘When you embrace your changes, Sebastian.’
‘You don’t understand, Karl,’ I countered, my voice desperate. ‘Tonight, something inside me snapped. I couldn’t control it and … and a part of me didn’t want to control it.’ I buried my face in my hands. ‘I don’t know what happened to Thaddeus, how he changed into that thing. But he was a gargoyle once. If he wasn’t a person, then what does that make me?’
The circus trainer fell silent. The quiet spoke volumes.
The Romany trailer loomed against the night sky, its painted dandelion logo dull in the dim light. Karl entered first, and I followed, my shoulders hunched under more than just the weight of my wings.
The Romany family was waiting on us. Nicolas and Sabina sat on the couch while Francis lounged on the floor flipping through television channels. Josephine reclined in a chair, her leg propped and a pack of ice on her knee. My head tingled with pleasure and pain at the sight of her.
‘Please, have a seat,’ said Nicolas as we walked in.
Two high backed chairs had been brought in from the kitchen. Karl sat in one, but I looked doubtfully at the other. Unless I straddled it backwards, there was no way I could fit with my bulky wings. I glanced sideways at Josephine, but she still refused to meet my gaze.
‘I’ll just stand, if that’s all right,’ I said.
Nicolas frowned a moment, then understood my predicament. ‘Yes, yes. Of course.’
Sabina poured a cup of hot tea from a pot and handed it to Karl. ‘Would you care for some?’ she asked me. Her eyes roamed my face, but to her credit, her reaction was no more than a slight widening of her eyes.
It was like I was a stray they’d picked up on the side of the road, and they were feeling me out, trying to see how tame I was. ‘Yes, please,’ I answered, trying my best to look undangerous.
Sabina poured another cup and handed it to me. I took her offering with a grateful nod and set it on the table beside me. Francis switched off the television. His face was uncharacteristically somber. I shifted closer to the wall, maintaining as much distance as I could without leaving the room. I was grateful for the soft glow of a single lamp. The shadows were comforting.
Nicolas clasped his hands together and focused on Karl. ‘Quentin is leaving tonight with several of our Marksmen. They will be escorting Peter Boswell back to his clan in North Carolina.’
Karl sipped his tea. ‘Is there some reason for the change in plans? I thought the party was scheduled to leave first thing in the morning.’
‘They were,’ Nicolas replied, ‘but because of the incident tonight, I think it’s wise to send them early. I won’t allow Peter Boswell’s presence to put our troupe in any additional danger. But I promised him sanctuary, so we will ensure his safe return home.’
‘So you informed Quentin of the chimera,’ said Karl.
The bandoleer shook his head. ‘No. I’ve told h
im nothing. I need my most experienced Marksman focused on his task. If Quentin were aware of this incident, he would insist on staying behind, and he’d put the Marksmen on high alert. That’s not what I want right now.’
My face remained blank, but my head buzzed at Nicolas’ declaration.
Francis stretched his legs under the coffee table. ‘Isn’t that what the Marksmen are supposed to do? After all, protecting the clan is their family occupation.’
Nicolas walked to the window and pushed aside the curtain. He glanced outside then drew it closed again. ‘That’s exactly what Quentin is doing. Escorting Peter under my orders is protecting the clan. I need to know exactly what’s happening with the others in our kumpania up north.’
‘I can tell you that,’ huffed Francis. ‘It’s called the Boswells running their mouths off and making enemies.’
‘It’s more than that,’ Nicolas said ominously. ‘You know we’ve been hearing rumors, son. Unexplained murders. Mercenaries running loose. Combined shadowen attacks. There are several Outcast clans dealing with the same thing.’
‘Yeah, and look at us,’ Francis shot back. ‘The proud Romanys just keep running. We’re the head clan, and we’re running from freaking rumors, dad. Moving from town to town, avoiding everybody. I don’t get it. Why don’t we just take a stand?’
Nicolas’ face tightened, his eyes glinting in a way that made my wings shudder against the wall. ‘We haven’t had the resources in the past, Francis. But things are changing.’ His gaze fell meaningfully on me. ‘After what I witnessed tonight, I’m convinced that my decision to bring the gargoyle here was the right one.’
Josephine took a shallow breath. To me, it sounded as loud as a gasp. My eyes flicked to her, but she turned away.
‘I don’t understand,’ I said, keeping my voice deliberately soft. My words brought the instant unwanted attention of multiple stares, but I forced myself to continue. ‘If the Marksmen’s job is to protect the clan, and I’m here for the same reason, shouldn’t we be working together?’
Shadow Page 13