by Steve McHugh
“You haven’t been out since she escaped?”
He shook his head. “Couldn’t get the lift back down. I figured this was a better use of my time than what Reyes was doing.”
“And what exactly was she doing?” Elias asked, putting just enough irritation into his words.
“She’s been in the gym for the last twenty-four hours, pretty much. She hasn’t exactly been a barrel of laughs. She took a shot at Layla when she was leaving too, put a round through her arm.”
Elias wanted to hit something. “Reyes shot at Layla?”
“Lost her cool after Layla killed two of the blood elves. The rest had to stop her from taking a second shot.”
“While you were unconscious,” Dara said, irritated.
“Yes, Dara, while the spirit that had taken over Layla’s body beat me like a drum. I don’t know who it is she’s got in there, but she fights like a demon . . . no pun intended.”
“Just be grateful it wasn’t the actual demon, or you’d be dead right now. Why didn’t you use your own demon to fight her? Your power is right there.” Elias tapped Shane on the chest.
“Didn’t have time. Besides, when I activate the demon’s power, I enjoy it a bit too much, if you catch my meaning.”
Elias understood perfectly. If Shane had used the demon’s power, he would have killed Layla. For a spirit-scroll user, tapping into their demon’s massive well of power could be incredibly addictive, and some people found it difficult to put that cork back in the bottle.
Dara scoffed. “You’re lucky she didn’t kill you. Have you gone through the records and found out who her spirits are? That would have been a good way for you to spend your time.”
“Well, I would have tried to figure out exactly what scroll she took, but I’ve been busy here. Besides, there are several thousand of the things, and while I know they are all numbered, it’s not exactly easy to find out which one is missing.”
“Enough,” Elias snapped. “I’ll go fetch Reyes. I want to see you all together in the mess room.”
He walked into the makeshift gym and found Reyes hitting the punch bag like she was trying to tear it in half.
“We need to talk,” Elias said.
“Later,” Reyes snapped. “You can leave now.”
Elias’s eyes narrowed in anger. He darted toward Reyes, who turned at the last second as he grabbed her by the throat and slammed her into the wall.
“Not later,” he seethed. “Now.” He squeezed tightly. She tried to get loose, but couldn’t. Elias knew that she could use her power and fight back, but if she did, he’d be forced to put her down. Hard.
“Don’t you ever dismiss me again. Do I make myself clear?”
Reyes nodded, and Elias released his grip, letting her fall to the ground. She sat and coughed for several seconds, rubbing her neck.
“Sorry, boss,” she said.
“Get to the mess room. Now.” Elias’s eyes still blazed with the anger he felt. Ordinarily he might have given Reyes more punishment, but the fear he saw in her eyes when she looked at him was enough. She wouldn’t be speaking back to him again anytime soon.
Elias waited until he was alone and then tore the punch bag in half, spilling the sand all over the floor. He was calm after that. It wouldn’t do for him to lose his temper again. It was unprofessional. Even if Reyes had deserved it.
Reyes was the newest member of the team, and the one Elias trusted the least. She was combative, argumentative, and vicious. All of which were great when fighting an enemy, but not so great for fighting amongst the group. She’d been with them two years, and Elias had considered replacing her for at least half of that time. The only problem was that Nergal was unlikely to approve it. He was unlikely to even listen to the request. Nergal had been the one to place Reyes in the team, and he wasn’t the kind of man to be told that his decision had been wrong. She might have to meet with an accident if she continued on her current trajectory.
Elias noticed that his fedora had fallen off when he’d grabbed hold of Reyes. He picked it up and dusted it free of any sand, before replacing it on his head and walking off to find the rest of his people in the mess room.
The mess room was essentially a large space with half a dozen yellow tables and lots of beige chairs. As he entered, Elias could tell that the blood elves inside were angry that two of their own had been killed. They weren’t known for being overly sentimental about their own kind, but they did like revenge. It was almost a species trait.
“So, we find her and drag her back here?” Reyes said with a fire in her eyes, which quickly extinguished when Elias matched her stare. “Slight problem: we don’t know where she is.”
Elias waved away the concern. “We’ll find her. You shot her, yes? She went to a hospital then. If what Shane says is accurate, the spirit controlling her body wouldn’t have been able to do so for long, and for now the bond will be too weak for any of the spirits to take control again. So that problem is no longer something we need be concerned with. I want us ready to move out in an hour. We take nothing we don’t need.”
“What about the prisoners?” Dara asked.
“Any of them that can walk, we take with us. We might need them. Anyone who can’t, just kill them and get it over with.”
“Do we have a back-up location?” Shane enquired.
“An abandoned farm. It’s not as nice as this compound, but it will suffice. Layla probably told someone about us, and we won’t have long before this place is completely compromised.”
“Anything else?” Dara asked.
“I want an address for Layla within the next six hours,” Elias told everyone. “And I want to know exactly which scroll she took. She might have a dozen spirits in her mind right now, and I want to know a) how screwed up she’s going to be; the more spirits the better. And b) who those spirits are. We need to come up with a way to neutralize them.”
Reyes and Shane both walked off, the blood elves in tow. They all knew what their jobs would entail over the next six hours.
“And for me?” Dara asked.
“I need to know where Layla’s friends live and work. If we can’t get to, or find, Layla, I want to make sure she knows what happens to those who continue to cross us. Get me a name and an address, and we can go twist a few screws.”
Dara smiled. “It’ll be my pleasure. Maybe one of the prisoners can tell you where Layla lives? They might try to go there.”
“It’s worth looking into, but we’ll do it once we’re secure.”
He waited until he was alone in the room before allowing himself a smile. A few things had surprised Elias about Layla’s escape. Firstly, that she’d either ignored or disbelieved the fact that he had some of her colleagues still alive. He’d expected her to try to rescue them. It would have been futile, and she would have been easily captured, but even so, it was something he hadn’t expected.
And then there was the spirit scroll. That really was a turn up for the books—a piece of good luck—for Layla at least. And more than a little interesting from Elias’s point of view. Those he hunted were rarely interesting, barely more than a mediocre distraction from his day-to-day duties. But Layla was proving to be something he relished: a challenge. Everything back at the compound in America was so regulated, so . . . dull.
The reason he’d allowed people like Liz Barnsley to escape the compound was so that he could hunt them. It was something new, something . . . interesting. And that was what Layla had become. Yes, he’d have to break her. That went without saying. The line between fun and irritation was a fine one, but until he reached that point, he was going to enjoy himself.
That’s not to say that Elias would show anything other than complete irritation and anger at what had happened, but inside he was almost . . . yes, glad for her escape. And glad for her having taken a scroll. It would be amusing to see her try to fight the demon, to see if she was strong enough to fight it. And maybe she too could join Nergal’s army. Stranger things had happened. And
if she turned them down, well, he could always let her escape from the compound. And then the hunt would be on again.
13
In Layla’s dream she found herself on a bench in a park. The sun shone high above her, but it didn’t feel overly warm. Children ran around close to a large pond that was nearby, splashing and laughing as they went. There were trees behind her, casting a shade that didn’t quite reach her, and for a few seconds nothing seemed out of the ordinary. And then she realized what everyone was wearing.
Every man, woman, and child there was in Victorian clothing. Most of the men wore smart suits in blacks and grays, with lighter colored waistcoats. Many of them also carried walking canes and wore top hats. There were several men who wore scruffier clothes, but they didn’t appear to be the norm.
The women wore bright dresses in greens, reds, or purples, many with matching hats. Layla saw no hint of flesh below the neckline; even their hands were covered by gloves. Several women had congregated over to one side and were in deep conversation. One of them, a lady in a deep green dress, used a white umbrella to keep the sun at bay.
“This is my time again,” Rosa said as she sat beside Layla. She wore trousers, boots, and a red blouse. A long, dark gray coat completed the outfit, and her hair was pulled up into a bun. “This is 1876, Oxford, or just outside of it. I was here to do a job, not one I relished, but one that needed doing.”
“Why am I here?” Layla demanded, barely holding in her temper.
“You’re angry about last night, about my knocking you out. Understandable. I guess I need to explain what you now are.”
“I’m human.”
Rosa shook her head. “Not anymore. You bled on a spirit scroll and accepted the spirits inside—that makes you an umbra.”
Layla thought for a moment. “An apparition? I’m a ghost?”
“No, not even slightly. Back when the spirit scrolls were made, an umbra meant a vessel of a spirit. I guess over time that’s changed. A lot of things have changed in the time since I was last alive. I died in 1915.”
“Over a century then.”
“An exceptionally long time.”
“Why don’t you sound old-timey?”
Rosa raised a questioning eyebrow.
“I stand by my use of the word,” Layla said defensively. “I could have said ancient. Would that have been better?”
Rosa’s eyes narrowed. “The spirits take on the speech pattern of the era the umbra is from. We don’t even know we’re doing it. One of many weird things about your new powers.”
“What are the other things?”
“You want the guided tour? That’s fine with me, but then you have a problem.”
“What problem is that?”
“You will need to sit through what happened here, in this corner of my past, and then you’ll need to go meet the other two spirits and see their lives too. You’ll be learning a lot about us over the next few days. And after that you need to see the demon. That’s not negotiable.” She held out her hand. “Deal?”
Layla shook it. “Let’s see what craziness is now in my head. So, exactly what is an umbra?”
“It’s a human who has accepted the spirits from a spirit scroll. They’re always human, and no one is born into this power. It’s something we’re given, or in your case, something you fall into. As an umbra you’re not immortal, bulletproof, or able to heal yourself indefinitely. Silver will kill you—don’t wear it, and don’t get cut by it, although it’s not as toxic to you as it is to some species. While you’re not immortal, you won’t age normally either. Some umbras are a few hundred years old. They’re rarely much older, though. You won’t age much, but you will still age.
“The languages of the spirits in the scroll will become second nature to you. Gyda knows a few of the old Viking languages, and a couple of others too, and Servius knows more than I can possibly remember. Whatever we know, you know. It’ll take a while to sink in, but don’t be surprised if you start speaking a language you’ve never studied. I know when I first did, it was a little bit of a surprise.”
“Anything else?”
“You’re much stronger than a human. I don’t know how strong. That depends on how strong you were beforehand, but you’ll soon figure it out. Your senses are improved, although don’t go thinking you can hear like a dog or anything, and you’ll heal a lot quicker than you could have before.”
“The gunshot wound is almost gone.”
“Get used to that. Also, get used to not going to the hospital when you get hurt—they find it odd when a patient who was bleeding to death on a table an hour ago gets up and walks off. Trust me on that.” Rosa thought for a moment. “Oh, yes, you’ll know all of our muscle memories too, so if one of us was good at fighting, you will be too. Sword, ax and shield, knives . . . you’ll start to realize you can do things you never thought possible, and you’ll just know you can do it. Takes a while to get used to.”
“I already know how to fight,” Layla said, keeping her voice neutral. “I don’t need to learn more about how to fight.”
“The spirit scrolls were created for one reason: to make weapons out of humans, to try to ensure that they wouldn’t die as easily as they usually do. The only problem was they worked too well and made some people into monsters. I’m hoping that’s not you. But we’re some way off from finding out.”
“I’m assuming you’re going to get to the really bad side of my new life soon.”
“Still on the good for the moment. You’ll need less sleep but more food. You’ll also be able to use your ability. It’s unique to you, and based on what Gyda did the other day, it’s the manipulation of metal. You won’t be too powerful until you accept the spirits and demon, but you’ll have us to help you learn control. How the power actually works, and what it’s actually capable of, is something you’ll have to discover for yourself.”
“Accepting a demon? Power to manipulate metal?” Layla rubbed her eyes. “It’s a lot to take in.”
“Yes, it is. But you need to understand everything that’s happened to you, and quickly. It won’t be long before you get used to it all.”
“So, what could you do?”
“I could become invisible as needed. You’ll have to ask the others about what they could do. The scroll looks inside a person and assigns a power based on their personality, along with their wants and needs at that moment. You needed to escape, and you study metallurgy, according to your memories, so you get metal manipulation. We can see all of your memories—it’s a two-way street.”
“What if I don’t want this power? What if I don’t want you to see my memories?”
“Tough. It comes with the scroll. There’s nothing you, or I, or anyone else can ever do about it.”
“So I no longer have secrets?”
“We’re part of you. You don’t have secrets from yourself, so you can’t keep them from us. It’s to ensure that we are always honest with one another. So, yes, I can see that fire in you. Your need to fight and hurt people who could hurt you. And I understand it.”
“I don’t want understanding. I want it gone.”
“That’s a part of you, Layla. The best you can do is learn how to control it, just like you’ll learn how to control your new powers. On the plus side, I can’t lie to you, not ever. No spirit can.”
“What about the demon?”
“In theory he can’t lie to you either, but I don’t know whether or not to trust that.”
“And I have to accept him.”
“If it is a him, yes.”
“If?”
“I’m not sure demons have a sex; it just never came up. I referred to the demon as a him simply because he appeared in a male form the majority of the time. I think they change gender according to who they’re talking to and how they feel on that occasion.”
“Are they asexual?”
“Able to change as needed to suit their audience. I think that’s part of what they are. To my knowledge, no one has ever
gotten close enough emotionally to one of them to learn about their species.
“Physically, demons aren’t anything like humans. They’re something entirely different, and they’re full of incredible power. Accepting the demon will be the hardest part of bonding with the scroll and the spirits in it. It will tell you awful things, it will show you things you’ll never forget, because it wants to break you, it wants to weaken you so badly that it gets to take control.”
“And how do I accept the demon, or any of you for that matter?”
“You just have to tell us. But you have to mean it with every fiber of your being. Otherwise it won’t work.”
“And once I’ve done that, I’ll be more powerful?”
“Considerably, yes, and you’ll be able to tap into the power of the demon, drawing it out to use. Although that in turn lets the demon closer to the surface, where your emotions, or overuse of power, can allow it to take control.”
“Is that permanent?”
Rosa shook her head. “No, he’ll let you back in when he’s done. But while he’s out—” She glanced away across the park and took a deep breath. “Let’s just say you don’t want that to happen.”
Layla wanted to ask more about what Rosa had experienced, but she got the impression that while a spirit couldn’t lie, that didn’t mean they would want to tell her. Besides, if what Rosa said was true, she would soon know anyway. The thought worried her. “Anything else I should know?”
“The next few days are going to see changes happen to you, to what you know, to what you can do. It might feel overwhelming. It might feel like everything in your life is crashing down around you. I promise you, it gets better.” Rosa stood and stretched. “You probably have time to go see one of the other two. You need to pick one of us to be your main contact as quickly as possible. The one you have a stronger affinity with than the others.”
“So, once I pick one of you, I can’t speak to the others?”
“No, you can talk to any of us at any time, especially once you’re bonded, but while you’re learning, it’s helpful to just have one point of contact. Makes life easier on you. It was easier for me—I only had two people to choose from.”