“It’s a strict rule not to let mortals see our magic unless absolutely necessary. If the public finds out about creatures and beasts, it will create a worldwide panic. Soon after, the cops will get involved, then the military. Only a couple of years ago there was an incident on Sears Tower with a mage.”
“That was you?” A smile returned to Jack’s lips.
“Yeah. Why, you heard about it?”
“Only what I could find on YouTube. Lots of purple light, leaping silhouettes in the distance – wolves, people thought – and some woman who fell a great height while a faery spread its wings to help her.” Jack’s eyes widened with recognition. “Link?”
I nodded.
“Wow.”
“Listen, we need to stay focused. Let’s go back to my place for a while, rest up and discuss a battle strategy. Demons are tough to fight at the best of times, and without your sword you’re practically asking them to rip you apart.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“Good.”
Finally, we were on the same page, though it seemed like Jack was only interested when combat was involved. The best interests of the people appeared to be unimportant to him, and despite that some of that was because of my paranoid disbelief, I think it made him unsuitable for this job. But I had to be wise where it counted, and that meant seeing this thing through to give him a chance to prove himself. I only hoped that there was still time after, to find someone else if Jack failed me.
Awkwardly avoiding conversation, we returned to the street and began the hike to my apartment building. Two blocks later the lack of conversation had started to rankle. Who knew what was going on in that head of his? I glanced over at him, trying to read his expression, but as I did so, a horrific sight appeared from nowhere, a mad blur in a quick moment.
I counted two demons, each one flying straight for Jack on long, bat-like wings. Their bodies comprised of red flesh, covered in patches of black fur. Their heads, twice the size of a human’s in comparison to their huge bodies, were horned and beastly, all snouts and rotting teeth. As the legends had always said, their eyes were aglow with the thirst for violence.
“Get down!” I shouted.
But it was too late. In a flash of bloodthirsty violence, one of the demon’s talons wrapped around Jack’s shoulder, piercing his skin as he wailed in pain and flew into the air. Leaping to his defense, I bounded across the road, paying no mind to the cars that could hit me or the drivers inside that could see us. My instincts told me to use my magic, but any more of that and I would quickly become the mage. And that, no matter how you looked at it, would lead to nothing but utter disaster. I’d had enough of that lately.
My body flung forward and I grabbed the leg of the second demon. I slogged it down a few inches, hoping to latch onto its back, but I wasn’t heavy enough to drag it to the ground. I spotted Jack, being carried away into the distance by the other demon, before I turned my attention back to the second. In its desperate struggle, it swung a claw at my cheek and sent me soaring across the road. My back struck a windshield, splitting a silver web of cracked lines into the glass. I shot to my feet immediately, ignoring the pain, but by then the demon was gone, and with it, Jack Hannigan.
“Shit,” I screamed, stepping down from the hood of the car. As if it couldn’t have gotten any worse, now the demons had Jack, and were probably planning to kill him for escaping the prison in the first place.
I can’t lie – I wanted to abandon him. Call it punishment for nearly starting a futile war with the imps. But of course, it was mostly down to me that he had fled from the prison in the first place, and as much as I hated the idea, it was my responsibility to get him back.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
I could only imagine what Link must have thought as I burst into my apartment, slamming doors and storming around like I had a stick up my ass. He sat in his fruit bowl by the window, looking up from the hardback Stephen King novel propped up in front of him. Although he didn’t say anything, he didn’t have to. I tended to know his thoughts before he could articulate them.
First thing, I stashed my magicard into the kitchen drawer and left it there. The mage inside kept bubbling to the surface, scratching at the door to my own essence, and if I wanted to use its magic when I chased after Jack – which, believe me, I did – then I needed to gain some distance from its soul. Just a couple hours, while I waited for the sky to darken, would help more than you could imagine. I seized the opportunity to clean myself up a bit, straighten my hair and eat some real food. Human food, not like the stuff the mages cooked back at the Vault.
What I wouldn’t give for a burger.
It took some time for Link to sense that I was ready to talk. I slumped into the couch, raised my knees toward my chest and sat gawking at the carpet, deep in thought. I heard the hardback close behind me, a heavy slamming that sounded almost like the closing of a car door, and a moment later Link crawled over the back of the couch. He looked down at me, his smile warm but false, wearing the expression of a deeply concerned friend.
“Where’s Jack?”
I exhaled theatrically. “That’s a long story.”
“Has he left you?”
“Not of his own free will.”
“You mean he was taken?”
“You could say that.”
Link’s eyes turned cloudy and gray as he frowned. Climbing down from the back of the couch, he slid along the cushion and fell into an upright position beside me. Somehow, his wings remained undamaged, which surprised me. His newfound bravery had put him in harm’s way multiple times in recent memory. After a minute of uncomfortable silence, he voiced his thoughts.
“Keira… do you trust him?”
Ring-a-ding-ding. Give that faery the grand prize. ‘Do you trust him?’ I didn’t know and I was starting to think I didn’t care. I sat still for a while, telling Link all about what had happened today and trying to give Jack the benefit of the doubt. As I explained each part of the day’s events out loud, it was a good chance for me to clarify things for myself, and use it to help decide whether Jack was worthy of becoming a Cardkeeper. So far he’d caused nothing but trouble, although his fighting spirit couldn’t be questioned. Jack was a warrior, of that I had no doubt, but was he able to view things from a moral standpoint while he was so consumed by vengeance?
Link, after hearing everything I had to say, folded his arms and huffed. “I hate to tell you, Keira, but I’m not sure I trust him. I mean, I know it’s not up to me who takes your place, but this bloke seems like – and I say this with every bit of respect – a bloody idiot.”
“It’s not a matter of intelligence; it’s a matter of self-control.”
“And for lack of that, he actually is a bloody idiot.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Seriously. I think you need to question whether you’ve made the right decision.” Link sat up, pushing himself to his feet and then flickering his wings in that too-fast-to-see motion which almost made them look like they weren’t moving at all. Taking off from the couch, he circled the small and dusty room before landing on my one and only bookshelf. From there, he stretched his arms and yawned with a wide mouth, until his face twisted with confusion. “What happens after all this?”
“You mean with me?”
“Well, yeah, but with me too. I know you’ve got no clue as to what will become of your body when the power is transferred to Shit-for-Brains, but what about your flat?” Link dropped to his butt, hanging his feet off the side of the shelf and swinging them like an anxious child. “Your apartment, I mean. No disrespect, of course, but if I need to start looking for somewhere to live then I wouldn’t mind a bit of notice.”
Well, that’s insensitive, I thought, getting up to stretch my own legs. I started to feel something of a cleansing within my soul now. It was likely that I could use the magicard without any further problems, but I’d still have to tread carefully. “I wish I had an answer for you, but I still don’t know. Let’s
put it this way: if I’m not around to pay the rent, there’s some money in my sock drawer that should cover an extra couple months. After that you’re on your own, but at least that’s two months’ notice.”
“Sock drawer.” Link sighed. “Right, thanks.”
I could sense his displeasure. “Isn’t that enough?”
“It’s fine, really.” Completely unable to stay in one place for more than a minute, Link got to his feet and then flew over to me, landing on my shoulder and nuzzling into my cheek. “I’ll just miss you. That’s all.”
“We don’t even know what will happen yet.”
“But what if–”
“I really don’t want to think about it, okay? Either way, you’ll get your chance to say goodbye. But let’s just focus on the mission at hand.” I marched into the kitchen and grabbed my magicard from the drawer. The moment my fingertips touched the card, I felt my soul begin to attune with it once again. I lapped it up, letting it feed itself into my body like the steam from a shower on a cold day. When it ceased, I returned to the living room of my apartment – which was overpriced and undersized – and set Link down on the coffee table.
“What’s the plan then?” he asked, rolling up the sleeves of his tiny white sweater that he’d stolen from a Ken doll at the local toy store. Most of his clothes had come from there, and every one of them was stolen unless I was there to pay for it. Typical Link.
“The plan is, I’m heading up to Highbridge Cemetery to rescue Jack. Assuming he’s still alive, that is. If he isn’t, then I suppose there will be no need to keep on chasing demons. I’d just have to turn my attention to desperately seeking a new Keeper.”
“Cold,” said Link. “I like it. And any idea who that might be?”
“Maybe. I’ve had my eye on a few people. Particularly, there’s this one girl named Kasey, although her friends and family seem to nickname her Red. I haven’t seen her in person, but it could be a hair-color thing.”
“Ginger?”
I shrugged. “Maybe. Anyway, I’m hoping it won’t come to that.”
“Right, we have to save your new mate.”
“We?”
Link froze, one arm in his jacket. “I’m not coming?”
“I’m really not sure that’s a good idea. These are demons we’re dealing with. What’s worse is that I don’t even know what kind.”
“Then surely you’ll need the help?”
I sighed, slipping my own jacket on and opening the front door. With one foot in the hallway, I hoped my instruction proved final, and Link had little chance of talking me out of it. “After what happened with Jason, you should probably stay off the battlefield. The last thing I want is to lose you, too. So just sit tight, okay?”
All I got from Link was a resigned nod, but that was enough for me – at least I knew he was safe. Anyway, now that I was able to use my magic a little more, I had something of a chance of staying alive long enough to find Jack. That, as far as I was concerned, was all that mattered for now.
I could worry about my own life later.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
I’d never been to Highbridge Cemetery until that day, but in the many years leading up to it, I’d heard more than enough stories about spirits, demons and – as much as the very word made me cringe – zombies. They were, of course, tales inspired by one person who might have seen something unusual at one point or another. From there, as with most bullshit stories of a similar nature, they just got out of hand. One part, however, seemed to be completely true; the tales of the demons that resided here.
In the dead of night I trod up the cobbled pathway and passed through the rusty gate. All I could see amid the black sheet of darkness was the tops of headstones and the occasional tree, leaves shaking like bristles of a brush in the night’s wind. I shivered, zipped up my jacket, and stalked cautiously through the plot. In the distance, I could hear the faint scuffing of feet, and so I made my way toward that with my magic poised to attack.
By the time I passed the first plot of graves, the scuffing had stopped and I found a man sitting on a bench that overlooked a downward slope, on which only ten or twenty headstones protruded from the dirt. A motionless silhouette, it aroused my suspicion. I wasn’t quite sure if I was ready for a fight, but I steeled myself and approached. After all, there was no time like the present. Not if I wanted Jack back alive.
“Hello,” I said calmly.
The figure jolted in its seat, before turning around to reveal the haggard old face of a man. His hand went straight to his chest, patting his heart down and breathing heavily with wide eyes. He had a gray moustache and thin, receding hair of the same color. His skin was rough and leathery, but the crow’s feet at the corner of his eyes lent him a certain pleasantness. “You scared me there, kitten.”
“Sorry,” I said, sitting beside him. I had to admit, it was the first time I’d ever been called a kitten. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“I should hope not. I’m already ten minutes away from a heart attack, and can manage it without your help.” The man assessed me as I shuffled comfortably beside him, and then held out his wrinkled old hand. “Name’s Bentley Smith. And don’t make any jokes about the automobile – I’ve heard them all.”
I smiled back at him, shaking his hand and waiting for him to transform into a demon. For all I knew, he was one of the winged bastards who’d taken Jack, but I knew I wasn’t going to discover the truth unless I played the innocent. Besides, the way he spoke came across as far too real for me to think of him as anything less than human. “Keira Poe.”
“Poe,” he repeated, returning his gaze to the graves. “Ever read any?”
“Any what?”
“Edgar Allen Poe. You know, the poet.”
I shrugged. “The Raven, a few times. That’s it.”
“Heh. Kids. Don’t do nothing other than what they have to, these days.”
Ironically, I was probably born before this man. If you subtracted the time during which I’d been a Cardkeeper, I was still a thirty-year-old ‘kitten’, and even then I could boast that I’d lived my fair share of life. Then again, we’d probably endured our schooling years around the same time. I studied him, trying to put an age to the face. He was probably around sixty, give or take a couple years. “What are you doing out here in the dark, anyway?”
“Me? Oh, I came to pay a visit.” Bentley raised a finger to a grave in the nearest row, where fresh flowers had been placed in a vase. On the old, weather-worn headstone was the name: Elizabeth Smith. “My wife.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Why the hell are you sorry? Not your fault she died, is it?” Bentley took a flask from inside his jacket, unscrewed it and took a sip. He then held it out to me, and I shook my hand dismissively before he screwed the lid back on and returned it to his jacket. “Poor thing died giving birth to our one and only daughter. Doesn’t happen much these days, what with modern medicine and all that. But at least our girl grew up to make it worth the sacrifice. She’s going to Harvard next month.”
“A smart girl, then.”
“Yup.”
The man’s story seemed genuine enough, but something still tugged at my mind – something that seemed a little less than ordinary. “May I ask, why choose the middle of the night to visit her?”
“Something weird about cemeteries in the day, right? Feels a bit like a museum, the way people walk around looking at the graves. They read the names like they’re the artists’ names beneath paintings, pretending it means something to ‘em before carrying on with their lives. It’s bullshit, and I can do without the hassle. Now this…” Bentley raised his hands to point out our surroundings. “This is peace.”
“I guess so.”
I knew a demon couldn’t think like that – it was all death and torture to them. Matters of the heart eluded them, and as little as I knew about this Bentley guy, I knew for sure that he understood the human condition. At least I was safe with him.
As
the conversation slowly began to die, a cold wind picked up and carried across the open land. My hair blew out behind me in a long, dark trail. I wrapped my arms around my torso and glanced around at the grounds. There was a collection of trees over to my left, and far up on the hill was a small building with dim lights glowing from inside.
“What’s up there?” I asked.
Bentley craned his neck, following my line of sight. “That? Oh, that’s the chapel. Nobody ever uses it, though. Storm took off the roof a few years back, and they never got the funding to rebuild. Damn shame, really.”
“And the lights?”
“The groundskeeper making it look less like a junkyard, I s’pose.”
“Right.” I nodded slowly, staring at the chapel. If Jack was really here, I was willing to bet he would be up there. I rose from the bench and shook Bentley’s hand once more. “It was a pleasure meeting you.”
“Yup. You too,” he said, dropping his hand back to his lap. “And be careful up there – you never know what’s lurking about.”
What a weird thing to say.
I disregarded it and hurried up the hill, fighting against the breeze as the cold nibbled at my cheeks. It didn’t bother me as much as it used to – being immortal made things like this easier – but it was still damn harsh. It wasn’t until I reached the open chapel doors that I began to feel warm again, and I hustled inside.
The interior was scrubby, but at least it looked stable. A tree branch had torn through the roof and the broken roof tiles that had fallen inside still lay in a crumbled heap below the gaping hole. The pews lined up perfectly, and on either side of the room the soft glow of candles flickered, casting their subtle light across the entirety of each wall. I stepped further in, watching my surroundings as I got closer to the back. A shiver traveled up my spine. Something was off.
The entrance doors slammed shut. A small gasp escaped my mouth as I spun on my heel, facing them. Bentley stood in front of the doors, his arms spread wide and a devilish grin playing on his lips. Only it wasn’t the same Bentley I’d spoken to moments ago – his kind appearance had been replaced with something maniacal, which only deepened as his eyes began to glow a deep red.
The Cardkeeper Chronicles: Books 1-5 (Complete Collection) Page 46