To Walk the Night

by E. S. Moore

  Not that I would ever tell him that. He did have a bit of an ego when it came to his work. Telling him how important he was would be like filling an already inflated balloon to well past bursting. I didn’t want to have to scrape up the spillover.

  I must have had a look on my face that didn’t sit well with him because he blanched.

  “Really,” he said. “It’s not as bad as you might think. There’s just sort of ... I don’t know ... an unspoken law against it, you know?” He tried to smile but failed miserably. “Don’t hurt me.”

  “Why would I hurt you?” I asked. I was doing a pretty good job of keeping myself from screaming in frustration. Ethan could be difficult at times, but he never flat out refused to tell me anything. It was beyond annoying.

  “Well, see ...” He turned away, turned back to me, and then settled on staring at the house over my shoulder. “I sort of don’t do this all on my own.”

  Suppressed anger bubbled in my gut. I just barely managed to hold it in check. “You let someone else in the house? Is that why you never let me in your lab? Do you have someone locked up down there?”

  “Yes and no,” he said, his face flaming. “There’s no one down there now and I don’t lock them up. And it isn’t a person, so you don’t have to worry about them telling anyone else about us.”

  “Then what are you talking about?” I couldn’t contain it anymore. I was shouting. “Is there or isn’t there someone helping you?”

  “There is.”

  “Who?”

  “Um.” Ethan chewed on his lower lip. He looked all the world like a teenager again, worried about disappointing an already disapproving parent. “Beligral.”

  “Who?”

  “Beligral.”

  “I heard you the first time. Who the fuck is Beligral?”

  Ethan’s eyes widened at my language. I rarely cursed at him, if ever. “He’s the one who taught me how to do what I do.”

  “That isn’t very helpful. Who. Is. Beligral?” I spoke slowly, hoping he got the point that I wasn’t in the mood to be pissed with.

  “A demon.”

  “A what?” I shouted. I couldn’t help myself. “You have a demon trapped in the basement?”

  “He’s not trapped,” Ethan said, rushing his words. “I summon him.”

  “And that’s supposed to be any better?”

  “Well, it means he goes away when we’re done.”

  I stared at him, shocked to my core. I never would have guessed Ethan of all people was summoning a demon. In my house, no less.

  “He’s pretty easy to work with,” he went on. “He told me how to make the silver weapons, supplies me with the silver as well. He also brings me the stuff I need. It makes it convenient so I never have to leave.”

  “And what does he get in return.”

  “We, uh, haven’t specified that part of our deal yet.”

  I rolled my eyes and fought down the urge to punch him. A demon. He was summoning a goddamn demon in my basement, using demon technology to modify my stuff. Suddenly, I didn’t want my weapons touching me anymore. I turned and threw open the front door, fuming.

  “Kat ...” Ethan began, but I wasn’t listening. I stormed into the house, tearing off my belt and shoulder holster. I threw them on the couch as I passed. I headed straight for the stairs and went down into the sitting room.

  The room was dark, the fireplace cold. I considered lighting a fire, but I just didn’t have the energy for it. I threw myself down into a chair and stared into the empty fireplace, trying to make sense of what I just learned.

  I couldn’t see how it was possible. Ethan had always been a good kid, had always been kind and friendly to me. Sure, he had his issues—we all did—but summoning a demon wasn’t something a good kid did.

  Of course, he was no longer a kid. It had been years since I rescued him from the vampire’s grasp. He was a grown man now, able to make his own decisions. Should I really be pissed at him for doing something that has helped me more than anything else had? I mean, without the weapons, the modified gun and motorcycle, I would be barely scraping by. Hell, I would probably be dead.

  When had he started? That was a question I couldn’t answer, that I wouldn’t ask him. He had started modifying my things almost as soon as I had taken him in. He could have been summoning the thing long before I ever met him. Maybe that was why Count Valentino hadn’t drained him as soon as he captured him.

  “Fuck,” I mumbled. I wanted to scream it from the rooftops. I knew I should have. What Ethan had done was irresponsible. And dangerous. He was putting his life, as well as my own, at risk for a few cool gadgets. I wasn’t sure it was worth it.

  The sound of his tentative footsteps on the stairs came from behind me.

  “Kat?” he said, his voice low, abashed. “I’m sorry. I never wanted you to know.”

  I continued to stare at the fireplace, though my anger was waning. I might not agree with his methods, but summoning the demon had helped. I couldn’t deny that.

  “If you want me to leave, I will.”

  “No,” I said, “I’m fine.”

  “Are you sure? You seemed pretty pissed back there.”

  “I’m fine,” I said through gritted teeth. Okay, maybe I wasn’t fine, but I wasn’t ready to punch a hole in the wall. That had to count for something. “I was just surprised.”

  He breathed a sigh of relief and came the rest of the way into the room. He sat down in the chair next to me, his empty lemonade glass still in his hand.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t like having you mad at me.”

  “I’ll get over it.”

  “I know, but I’m still sorry.”

  We sat in silence for a few minutes. I could hear him breathing next to me. He sounded frightened, as if he thought my calm exterior was hiding a burning rage that would be unleashed on him at any moment. I didn’t blame him. I had to have looked terrifying outside.

  “Maybe you should stop summoning him,” I said. “We have what we need now. We don’t need him any longer.”

  “I can’t,” Ethan said. He sounded utterly defeated. I wondered what kind of hold this demon had on him. “I’ve tried to stop before. It’s like a drug. I can’t help it. And when I don’t summon him, things ... happen.”

  “What sort of things.”

  “I can’t talk about it,” he said, his voice so low even I had a hard time hearing him. “Bad things.”

  I wanted to know more but didn’t press him. Pressing him would only upset him more. Hell, it would probably upset me too. “All right.”

  “All right?”

  “We move on,” I said. “We can worry about Bel-phagor or whatever his name is some other time.”

  “Beligral.”

  “Close enough.” I sighed. As if having the Luna Cult asking for help, a rogue wolf sending people after me, and dealing with House Tremaine wasn’t enough. I just couldn’t handle dealing with a demon. Not then. Maybe not ever.

  “So, what now?” Ethan asked.

  “We go on as we were.”

  There was a moment of silence before he spoke again. “Is something else bothering you?”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “You’re tense. And it’s not about Beligral. Did something happen while you were gone?”

  “I didn’t get the information I was looking for,” I said. “My source couldn’t divulge what he knew.”

  “And?”

  “And what?”

  “And what else? Your source has come up short before. I can tell there is more to it than you are letting on.”

  I sighed. I really didn’t want to drag Ethan into this. Did he really need to know a rogue werewolf had propositioned me? It seemed more my business. What good would it do if he knew?

  Of course, I never liked keeping things from him. Even though I was still pissed about the whole demon thing, it was Ethan. If I didn’t tell him and Adrian showed up with his goons, he would need to know what
to expect.

  “I might have a problem.”

  “What kind of problem?”

  “The big hairy kind.”

  “A wolf after you?” he asked. “Someone you couldn’t put down?”

  “Sort of.” I hated talking about it. Just thinking about it irritated me. “He knew who I was as soon as he saw me.”

  Ethan’s eyes widened for a second before he regained his composure. I had to hand it to him, he took the news pretty well. “Did he know your name?”

  “No, he knew I would be at The Bloody Stake, though. He was the one who sent the wolf after me last night. He knew I was Lady Death.” I cringed speaking the hated name.

  “So, if you didn’t kill him, what did he want?”

  I told him about my conversation with Adrian. I didn’t leave anything out. Since I was telling him about it, I might as well get it all out now. There really wasn’t much to say. It only took me a couple of minutes to spill the entire story.

  “Did you consider his offer?” Ethan asked when I was done.

  “No. Why would I? He tried to have me killed.”

  Ethan relaxed visibly. I hadn’t even noticed him tense up. “Good,” he said. “It’s never good to work with the bad guys.”

  I gave him a sharp glance. He was grinning.

  “Maybe I will send you out to gather information next time,” I said. “It might do you good to get out once and a while, to see the world. The world isn’t simply made up of good guys and bad guys anymore.”

  “I would, but sorry,” he said, rising. “Agoraphobe, remember?”

  “Right.” I couldn’t help but smile. Just talking to Ethan could raise my spirits. It was why I would never put him out, no matter what stupid thing he did.

  “I’m going to take a shower,” he said, heading for the stairs. “I smell like donkey doo.” He laughed, though it was clear he was still upset about our little spat, but he was at least able to joke. That was good. I didn’t know what I would do if ever I drove him away with my anger. I mean, he had survived this long summoning and working with a demon. How bad could it really be?

  21

  The day came and went, and before I knew it, I was on my motorcycle, heading for the Luna Cult Den. After so many consecutive nights of clear skies and brisk breezes, I was surprised to find a light mist in the air. Dark, heavy clouds obscured the moon, depositing their moisture on the denizens of the sleepless city. It would have been refreshing if it hadn’t been such an ominous sign.

  I didn’t bother parking any closer to the Den than the last few times I had been here. The alley seemed as safe a place as any to park, and after walking the roads a couple of times, I knew it would be futile to attempt to drive them. I didn’t mind walking in the light rain. It gave me time to think, to make sure that this was actually what I wanted.

  My pace quickened as the rain picked up. The wind was blowing cold, sending a chill straight through my leather and into my bones. It was still early by vampire standards. That didn’t make the empty streets seem any more welcoming. In fact, it made the walk that much worse.

  I was sure someone was watching me. It held a strange sort of comfort knowing that if something were to jump out at me, someone from the Luna Cult might show up and help me take care of the problem. Not that I thought I needed help. It was just nice to know it was there.

  I picked my way through the dark streets, empty alleys, and around rundown buildings until I was finally standing on the green before the Luna Cult Den. It looked as dead and empty as always, though I did see one Cultist hurry into the building at my approach. I never even saw a light shining through the open door before it closed.

  The rain pattered on the sidewalk as I made my slow way toward the front door. I knew what I was doing was stupid. As friendly as he seemed, Jonathan was still a werewolf. The closer I came to the Den, the more it seemed like a bad idea. I knew I should turn around, knew it would be the smart thing to do.

  Before my fears caused me to change my mind, I was standing in front of the doors to the old library. I didn’t even have a chance to knock before the doors opened and two Cultists I didn’t know stepped out to greet me. Neither looked happy about the job, but they were at least civil. It was more than I could say about my big Mexican friend the last two times I was there. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to be in attendance tonight.

  The Cultists led me through the bottom floor to the stairs. I followed them up the stairs and to a pair of large gilded doors on the second floor.

  The doors were clearly a new addition to the building. It didn’t match the décor of the library at all. They were carved with images of men turning into werewolves, some in the process of shifting. Others were fully human, but something about the way they were carved gave them a definite wolfish appearance. Surrounding them were fully shifted werewolves, their mouths open as if howling at the window at the top of the door. It was circular, and was colored and stained to look just like the full moon.

  My Cultist guides bowed their heads to me, though I noted their eyes never left my face, before scurrying off to perform whatever duties they had been assigned. The doors remained closed, and there was no one outside them to direct me inside. The entire Den seemed empty, in fact. I had barely seen anyone on my short trip to the second floor.

  I looked around once to make sure I hadn’t overlooked anyone, then shrugged. The two Cultists hadn’t knocked for me, so I supposed I was supposed to take the hint and go in myself. I pushed open the doors and went in, my right hand lingering near the hilt of my sword.

  The doors opened up into a well-furnished room that looked as though it had been yanked straight from some extravagant mansion and dropped into the middle of the old library. Bookshelves lined one entire wall. The books on them were old and leather bound. Large couches faced each other at the center of the room. They were covered in red velvet and silks hung over their backs, giving them a soft, flowing look. Pillows decorated the couches, each matching the décor of the rest of the room.

  I took another step in and the doors swung slowly closed behind me. A wet bar stood to my left in an alcove I hadn’t been able to see from the doorway. A man in a tux stood behind the small counter, his hands behind his back. He never even flinched as I entered. He stared straight ahead, not seeming to be aware of anything going on around him at all. He was bald, of course, and the Luna Cult tattoo in the middle of his forehead looked old and faded.

  A moment later, doors on the opposite end of the room opened and Jonathan strode through, beaming confidence. His black pinstriped suit was ironed and looked stiff and uncomfortable. He didn’t wear his usual hood, and the flat portion of his head and his mangled features stood out in stark contrast to the rest of his garb. Nathan and Gregory stepped out behind him, similarly dressed.

  “I’m glad you decided to come,” Jonathan said, moving to stand at the center of the room. “I feared you might not show up, or if you did, you would come so late we wouldn’t have time to properly dress you.” He ran his hand over the silk decorating one of the couches. “I have considered how we might get you inside without setting off anyone’s internal alarms. You have this way about you that screams vampire, and I fear Count Tremaine will pick up on it too quickly for us to get in place.”

  I didn’t move forward to greet him. I held my ground at the door, still unsure I was doing the right thing. Even though I loved my leather, I felt extremely underdressed. I had no intention of wearing anything else. This was a kill mission for me, not a banquet.

  “What do you have in mind?” I asked, scanning the room. There didn’t seem to be any more doorways, though I hadn’t seen the one Jonathan had come in until the door had opened. It was worked into the design of the room so that it was nearly invisible.

  Nathan and Gregory stood flanking Jonathan. Gregory had his usual grin in place and he gave me a quick, almost childlike wave. It might have been cute if it hadn’t looked so awkward on him. Nathan glowered at me, like usual, and I gave him a
smile that set his teeth to grinding.

  “I was thinking that instead of having you slip in and risk being discovered apart from the group, we can disguise you as one of us.”

  “You already suggested that. I get a fake tattoo and try to blend in once I meet up with the rest of you. I would prefer to keep my gear on, so if you have a robe or something I can wear over my things, that would do.” Nathan smirked as if what I said was amusing. I ignored him. “I’ll go in through the window like planned and meet up with you afterward.”

  Jonathan waved his hand in dismissal. “I don’t believe that will work.”

  “Why not?” Anger flared up in my words. I hated it when plans changed at the last minute. I usually spent a long time working on my plans and kept to them as much as possible. Too many changes too close to go time tended to make things fall apart that much faster. People died when things went wrong. I had no intention of dying.

  “There is one detail about you that will not fit in with the rest of the Cult.” He ran his fingers through what remained of his hair. “Unless you are willing to shave your head to fit in, you could not pass for one of the Luna Cult. And you definitely would never be able to pass yourself off as a werewolf.”

  I shook my head. “Not happening.” I wasn’t one of those girls who spent hours messing with her hair, but I was still attached to it. I seriously doubted the bald look would suit me.

  “That is why I decided to come up with another way.” Jonathan took a step forward but stopped as Nathan laid a hand on his arm.

  “Don’t,” the big man said between clenched teeth. “I don’t trust her. We should forget about all of this and do this on our own. She is too much of a risk.”

  “A risk that we must take if we expect to keep our freedom,” Jonathan said, never taking his eyes from me. “Let me go, Nathan, or I will be forced to leave you behind.”

  Nathan’s jaw tightened. He looked like he was going to say more, but instead, he simply removed his hand from Jonathan’s arm and resumed glaring at me.