Unwed and Dead (The Dead Ex Files Book 1)

by Claire Kane

  “Already way ahead of you,” he said, even as he flashed through the door to reconnoiter the next room. He practically leapt back into Lacey’s space a heartbeat later, and though he wasn’t actually gasping, Lacey could tell he would be, if he weren’t dead.

  “There are so many of them,” he said, his face drawn. “Whoever that chick is, she’s a magnet of dark things. Stay out here. Just call the cops and let them deal with this. See? If you take cover behind that machine over there,” and he pointed at a large piece of equipment, “you’ll still be able to see the door, and if she comes out, you fire off a couple warning shots to keep her honest until help arrives.”

  Lacey held in a pout. “Why do you always doubt me, Victor? Even when we were dating, it was, ‘Here, Lacey. Let me help you with that.’ Or, ‘I’ve got this, Lacey. You just sit tight.’ I’m so sick of you telling me I can’t do things. As wonderful as you can be, I couldn’t stomach the idea of living life as a ‘cute little China doll’ who just sat around on display like a helpless baby.”

  Victor gaped. “W-wait. You mean, you were offended by my attempts to be a gentleman? I was trying to help you because I loved you.”

  She shook her head. “Are we really having this conversation right now?”

  Victor glanced back at the other room. Though the banging sounds continued, the murderer was making no obvious moves to come out. He turned back to Lacey. “Yeah. I think we have a minute.”

  Lacey rolled her eyes and threw up her hands. “What do you want from me, Victor? Do you want some ‘good little wife’ that will clean up after you and cook you meals and look pretty when your friends come by? Why do you insist on treating me like I’m weak and stupid?”

  Victor was flabbergasted. “I let you have all sorts of personal freedom. Ask yourself if I was like any of your past boyfriends—like that one dude… Buck? Chuck?”

  Lacey leveled an unimpressed stare at him. “Roland.”

  “Whatever. Remember how he had to know everything you were doing every minute of the day?”

  Lacey shifted her weight, and glared at her dead ex-boyfriend. “Why do you think I dumped him inside a week?”

  Victor waved it away. “Look, I gave up Heaven because—”

  He was cut off by a particularly large bang from the other room. Before he knew it, Lacey dashed across the room and hurled open the door. A curtain of steam blasted outward, and she reeled back with a yelp, only to throw herself forward again. She trusted her gut; she could sense Greg’s killer inside, and knew that the steam would give her just the right element of surprise.

  “Lacey, no!” And yet, the overwhelming sense of fear emanating from Legion paralyzed him.

  Victor watched in horror as she dove through the door, heedless his warning. He watched Legion swarm her instantly, and felt the crashing waves of doubt, fear, and confusion they tried to drive into her mind like railroad spikes.

  Lacey, for her part, pressed doggedly forward, ignoring the unexpected deluge of doubt. Something told her to turn left, and she did. Two steps later, she tripped over something on the floor and stumbled forward. To her surprise, she collided with something soft—something that let out a feminine scream.

  “Gotcha!” Lacey cried.

  The woman—at least Victor had said the murderer was such—struggled against Lacey. Lacey whipped her gun forward to take a shot, but the other woman fought dirty, stunning Lacey with a blow to the head that she didn’t see coming, before grabbing at her gun arm. The two struggled in the steamy darkness, Lacey fighting to keep the murderer’s gun out of play while her opponent did the same. There was kicking, screaming, hair pulling, rolling on the floor. By sheer force of will, Lacey heaved her gun toward the other woman and pulled the trigger. The woman must have seen the move coming, because she dropped bodily onto Lacey just as the gun fired. The bullet ricocheted off an overhead pipe—which added another jet of steam to the mix, then hit something somewhere else.

  The lights went out.

  A punch came out of nowhere, and Lacey felt her head rebound off the concrete floor as stars exploded across her vision. Swinging blindly, her counter-attacks met with nothing but empty air. At once, the despair she’d been swimming in since entering the room crescendoed to an overwhelming pitch.

  You’ve failed, Lacey. She’s better than you, and now, she’s going to kill you. You’ll get to see your beloved Victor soon, though. But when you do, you’ll find he hates you for dishonoring his sacrifice. He gave up Heaven, and now that you’re about to die, you’ve consigned him to Hell.

  Give up, Lacey. It’s too late to change.

  “No,” she wanted to shout, but it came out as a weak cry. Over the hiss of steam and the intermittent pop of damaged electrical equipment, she heard the familiar click of a round being chambered in a pistol. All the stories about one’s life flashing before them at the moment of death proved true. Lacey closed her eyes and sucked in a breath, hoping her death would be quick and painless.

  Yes, her thoughts said. There is no purpose in going on. Go to Victor. Go to him.

  “But I don’t want to die!” The thought infused her with adrenaline and she rolled instinctively, only to immediately ram her head into something metallic and immovable in the darkness. Six gunshots rang out. Through the murky haze, Lacey saw a demonic figure, clothed in black, highlighted by the flash of each shot. And then there was only darkness.

  *

  Still stunned by his girlfriend’s thoughtless bravado, and frozen by terror, Victor could only stare. He heard half a dozen gunshots ring out in rapid succession. Any hopes that Lacey had survived died when the killer emerged—limping, but still clearly alive—from the boiler room, trailed only by fewer of the demons than he’d seen follow her in.

  The woman in black jerked the door closed, then put another bullet through the locking mechanism; Victor had a sinking suspicion the knob would no longer work. Struggling to get control of his emotions, he gritted his teeth and willed himself forward. The terror was still there, though, and he barely made headway toward the boiler room. If Lacey were dead, her spirit would still be inside, trapped with whatever Legion members were left. He couldn’t leave her to that fate.

  “Rao? Rao? Where are you, you stupid cat?”

  No reply.

  “I need you. Lacey needs you! Please!”

  Still silence.

  The murderous woman left the mechanical room, trailed by a dark entourage, and the pressure eased at once. Victor flashed through the boiler room wall, eager to find his love. No sooner had he materialized in the boiler room than a lingering demon pounced on him, raking its icy claws through his thigh. He screamed and fell back, anger welling inside him.

  Yes, the dark ones hissed. Anger. Yesssss!

  Two more turned for him, but in the half second he had before they were on him, he spotted Lacey, lying on the floor, pressed up against a large water heater, her spirit nowhere to be seen. Then they were on him. It was everything he could do to duck, dodge, and weave around their attacks. For whole minutes the dangerous game of cat and mouse went on, over and around the unconscious form of the woman he loved. One beast caught hold of him and flew straight up through the ceiling, Victor fighting to break free, and held him until they the KZTB tower looked like a model train building below them. Several others were right behind. The demons struck with ferocity, but he realized they were not coordinating their attack when two of them got into a scrap as one tried to pull the other out of the way so as to reach Victor first.

  He frantically tried remembering Rao’s instructions, desperately tried to resurrect pleasant emotions and the type of courage and faith she’d said he’d need to combat them, but it was useless. Unable to find his girlfriend’s soul, he knew he’d lost already. He’d have gladly accepted his fate had he been able to go down defending her, but Legion had denied him even that hope. Desperate for one, last touch, he dove through the remaining demons—earning wicked, stinging wounds in the process—shot back down
into the basement, and collided with Lacey.

  Only, he was stunned to find himself repulsed. He bounced back, racing to her to see how bad the damage was. His heart sank when he saw blood on her head, and on the ground. Then, he noticed that the dark liquid trailed toward the door. “I’ll be,” he mused for a split second. “Lacey actually got her.” His thoughts died under a renewed demonic assault.

  Without warning, Lacey jerked once, then twice, then groaned and slowly attempted to sit up. Legion halted as one, their attention fully occupied by the woman on the boiler room floor, and for the first time, Victor noticed the shell casings scattered around, and the pockmarks of bullets on the floor near where she lay.

  Victor’s heart lifted instantly. “You’re alive!”

  Lacey wasn’t sure whether she’d lost consciousness or had merely been stunned by the resounding blast of the gunfire in the close quarters. Blinking repeatedly, she felt as though she could hardly breathe. Her ears threatened permanent tinnitus, but she could still hear Victor’s triumphant call in her mind.

  “Yes,” she said weakly, coughing on steam, “I think so, at least.” She coughed again, then froze. On the humid air she could practically taste the sulfurous odor of natural gas. “Victor? Victor, I’ve got to get out of here.”

  Legion exulted, and Victor grabbed for Lacey instinctively, only to be frustrated to find that he couldn’t help her. One demon detached from the rest and came for him, but Victor was ready, this time, and managed to catch the monster’s flailing arms as it lunged for him. The rest of the creatures seemed fixated on the lovely, living lady before them. Victor could feel Lacey’s mind weakening.

  “Victor,” she said blearily, already feeling herself beginning to swoon, “how long have I been… down here? I think… the gas is… getting to me.” She struggled to get to her feet, but collapsed to her knees; the blows she had taken fighting the other woman seemed more severe, now that she was off her adrenal high. Her head throbbed mightily, and when she gingerly touched the place where her head had hit metal, her fingers came away smeared red. Rising again, only to stumble anew, she pushed on into the darkness, only to meet a wall face first.

  Victor opened his mouth to guide her, but as he did so, the demon he was struggling with turned to vapor, and shot into his mouth. He gagged for the first time since dying, and struggled to spit it out. He could see the entire boiler room as though it were midday; Lacey, however, was heading in the exact opposite direction from the door.

  Lacey, he thought. You’re going—

  Legion! the demons roared, cutting him off. The beast that was worming its way into him began clouding his mind, misdirecting his thoughts; he’d never seen them do this before, and Rao hadn’t talked about it.

  Feeling her head growing lighter, Lacey stuck to hands and knees as she searched for a way out, feeling her way along a wall, reasoning that eventually, she’d find the door by following it. The steam burned at her face, and several times, she touched metal that seared her hands, causing her to cry out and lose her way.

  It’s over, Lacey. Lay down. Rest. You’ve done your best. The police will catch the killer, and if you’re not around to be implicated, so much the better. Victor is waiting.

  “Victor,” she called, before coughing again. “Victor?” Her knee hit something, and she was sent sprawling the floor, her face slapping concrete.

  Yet, Victor’s struggles were just as insurmountable as hers. Thoughts of Lacey asphyxiating filled his mind. He envisioned her succumbing, collapsing, and her beautiful spirit rising out of her dead husk, only to be assailed by the powers of darkness. He pictured himself becoming one of the demons, and then going on to ravage her pure soul like all the others. He would drag her down to an endless misery the likes of which he was only beginning to comprehend.

  Summoning all his will, he made to rage against Legion. Then he stopped. No, he thought. That’s not what Rao taught me. That’s not what Mom taught me. He remembered all those old religious songs he’d listened to in life. About courage, faith, resolve to do right in the face of evil. Though it wasn’t much, he began to sing, a new sense of calm filling his mind. The demon that infested him shuddered violently, and redoubled its mental assault, but Victor latched on to the song, and began putting his heart into it. Forcing his mind to be calm, he felt the parasite beginning to ooze reluctantly out of him. For once, he could actually think clearly. But Legion wasn’t done yet. The invader fought back furiously, and it was all Victor could do to keep himself on track with singing, and thoughts of saving Lacey. Pushing back even harder, he forced the demon clean out of his space, and created enough mental space to allow himself to talk.

  “Lacey,” he called, both aloud and to her mind. “You’re almost there, baby. Just crawl forward two feet.”

  The monsters roared in unison. NO!

  Lacey, ears still ringing, and vision blurred, felt her heart rise at Victor’s encouragement. She complied as best she could. After what seemed like an eternity—all the while filled with a whirlwind of doubt and logic about why she should quit—Victor’s words came again.

  “Great job. Turn ninety degrees to your right—to your right—and keep going. You’re only about ten feet from the door. That’s it, baby. You’re doing great.”

  No! No! Go to Victor!

  And then they were on him en masse, ripping, tearing, gnashing with fangs he didn’t even know they had. His internal singing faltered, and his focus on Lacey blurred dangerously. The darkness enveloped him as it had the night he had died, and he felt himself being dragged away from Lacey.

  “Lacey! No! Get off me!” Thrashing and struggling in vain, he watched the boiler room vanish above him. He was being pulled down, down, growing colder by the second, and weaker. All sense of time vanished. His forced descent may have lasted a minute, but it may have lasted a thousand years. He thought of Lacey, gasping and struggling above.

  You’ve failed her. Failed!

  And they were right. He had failed. A desperate cry ripped from his throat. “Rao! Rao! I need you! I—” His thought was suppressed under a crushing burst of mental white noise. The cat failed to appear; he wasn’t even sure she’d heard him. His thoughts faltered further, and soon, he could hardly even envisage Lacey’s beautiful face in his mind. The thought of losing her split his heart in two. He’d given up Heaven to be with her, and now—

  Then it hit him. Heaven. So he committed to the last, best sacrifice he could make for her.

  God, he managed to cry in his mind, I’m sorry. Just let me help Lacey this once. I’ll come home then.

  Legion shrieked, a screeching that sent pain reverberating through his very being. Then, quietly, but with increasing speed, the pain began to subside. Now it was the demons that were thrashing and flailing. Their grip slipped away, and he felt as though he were sucking in a breath after coming up from a deep dive. Indeed, he found he was beginning to glow the same way Rao did. A smile crossed his face, and he turned to regard the cluster of dark ones who had already retreated a pace. Instinctively, he pointed at them and in a calm, but firm voice, said, “Be gone.”

  With a last, ear-splitting shriek, the entire mass of Legion fled into the bowels of the earth. Victor exulted in his deliverance, his smile widening as he watched his enemies run. He only spared a moment on his triumph, then he was back in the boiler room the next.

  Lacey was barely dragging herself forward by now. “Victor?” Her voice was weak, and she barely got the word out before coughing again. “So… tired… Vict… where?”

  “I’m here, baby. You’re almost there. Scootch just two inches to your left. That’s it. Now just go straight. You can do it. We’re safe now.” Yet he knew that she was anything but. Kneeling at her side, he continued his encouragements as she inched forward, the strain clear on her face. She’d talked about gas; Victor knew she’d been down here too long already. A new realization dawned on him. “Vents,” he said. “There should be some.”

  It took him all o
f a half second to fly the perimeter of the room. There were, indeed, two vents, each with fans. To his dismay, they both showed clear evidence of what he was sure was recent damage. Suddenly, all the banging he and Lacey had heard made sense. He bit his lip. “She was set up.”

  Blinking back to her, he urged her on. “C’mon, Lace. I know you’re tired, but I’d love it if you could give me just a little more speed.”

  She nodded weakly, and he could sense her strength of will in each inch she covered. After nearly a minute, Lacey bumped up against the door. Groping upward, she eventually fumbled across the knob. She turned it, but it felt strangely hollow—the way her head felt now—and nothing happened.

  Victor put his face into the door mechanism. Sure enough, the killer’s bullet had disabled it. “I’m going for help, Lacey,” he said, slipping through the door and back into the main mechanical room.

  Lacey felt her heart sink. “Don’t… don’t… leave me… Victor.” She blinked against a growing headache, her lungs already burning fiercely. The smell of the gas was overpowering, but she couldn’t think clearly enough to guess how much longer she had. All she knew was that it wasn’t long, and that she wanted Victor—a clown, a buffoon, and a knight in shining armor all at once—to be with her now.

  Hang tight, he called to her mind, sensing her slipping. Stay alive, Lacey Ling. For me.

  “Vic—” Her word broke into another coughing fit.

  Wasting no more time, Victor sped through the building, desperately searching for someone to help Lacey. He encountered several security guards, but none seemed to be even the slightest bit able to hear him. He tried the after-hours editorial room, but the KZTB staffers were so caught up in preparing the morning news program that his pleas were completely unnoticed. Fortune finally favored him when he happened upon a grizzled old maintenance man, frowning at a control panel in one of the lower levels. A flashing red light seemed to occupy him, and his concerns were clear. Victor locked on to the man’s thoughts as best he could, and went for it.