The 2nd Cycle of the Darc Murders Omnibus (the acclaimed series from #1 Police Procedural and Hard Boiled authors Carolyn McCray and Ben Hopkin)

by Carolyn McCray

  But the weapon whipped forward, taking a full rotation before lodging itself in the man’s throat. Blood spurted and sputtered from around the blades, propelled by the enemy’s expelled breath.

  If Trey hadn’t been distracted by the creep with the gargantuan sword behind him, he probably would have hurled. Come to think of it, he still might.

  Darc staggered to his feet, and before Trey could managed to even blink, had run off to the side. Trey was left facing a naked berserker with a serious lack of man parts and what looked like the biggest sword in the universe.

  That was so not cool.

  * * *

  It had taken several blows from the heavy short sword in her hands for Mala to break Templeton’s chains. Now those same chains dangled and clanked from his wrists as they rushed toward the unmistakable sounds of fighting.

  “Ah… shouldn’t we be looking for the way out?” Richard urged her, his tone reeking of desperation.

  Mala might be able to understand how he felt, but there was no way in hell they were going anywhere but forward. Gripping the handle of the sword, Mala rounded the corner with the mousy social worker at her back.

  What she found rocked her back on her heels.

  There in front of her, was a big man with an even bigger sword bearing down on Trey. The poor detective looked outmatched on every level.

  Heaving the sword around, the naked attacker advanced, and for a brief moment, Mala thought Trey was finished.

  But she had underestimated the man’s will to live. Trey ducked and rushed in, grabbing the part of the sword closest to the hilt. Pushing the sword back so that the point was aimed at the ceiling, Trey began punching the man in the face.

  Jolting herself out of her shocked stupor, Mala ran in behind the attacker, lashing out with her blade. She caught the man right behind the knees, driving him to his knees. At the same time, Trey lifted a knee, catching the assailant underneath the chin.

  The man went down. Hard.

  Breathing, the two stared at each other for a long moment. Then Mala stirred, pushing herself back up to a straight standing position.

  “Are you okay?” she asked. “How is your hand?” She indicated to the hand he had used to grip the sword.

  Trey lifted it up to examine it. “Yeah,” he panted. “That part of the blade wasn’t sharpened.”

  “How did you know that?”

  He shrugged. “I didn’t.”

  Mala had always loved Trey, but her respect for him went up several points with that admission. He had gone in, fully expected to lose a finger or two, possibly even his hand. Trey might complain, but he did what needed to be done at the end of the day.

  Glancing around, Mala felt the lack of a certain bald detective. “Where’s Darc?” she demanded.

  “I have no idea,” came the answer from Trey as he wiped at his face. “He just took off in that direction.”

  That didn’t sound good. Darc running off meant one thing.

  Something was about to happen, and it wasn’t going to be good.

  * * *

  Janey struggled against Lula’s hand that was still clamped around Janey’s mouth. But then a second later, she understood why the older woman had done it.

  Right in front of them, a figure passed by. Janey knew who it was, and there was no reason why that person should be down here.

  Well, there was one reason.

  Janey had seen the pictures under the desk. But even though she had known then, there had been a part of her that couldn’t believe it. She could now.

  The sight was so shocking Popeye didn’t make a joke about it. He might be the silliest bear on earth, but even he knew when things were too serious to laugh about.

  It was weird, but somehow, even though it was shocking, the lines in Janey’s head were settled. Like they had been fighting against Janey’s feeling that what she had seen was just impossible. Like they now thought that everything was just fine.

  Showed what they knew.

  Things were not fine.

  “Well,” Lula whispered in Janey’s ear. “That changes things a bit, doesn’t it?”

  Janey could only nod.

  They couldn’t stay where they were. Janey had to go and help. Darc and Trey and Mala didn’t know what Janey knew, and without knowing, they could make a huge mistake. Arrest the wrong person. Kill someone by mistake.

  Or be killed by someone they didn’t suspect.

  She pushed forward, but Lula held onto her shoulders.

  “I can’t let you go in there, sweetie,” the woman whispered, her voiceless plea intense. “Please. Don’t go in there.”

  Janey just looked up at Lula. This wasn’t a choice. Janey had to go.

  The older woman must have seen something in Janey’s face. Lula’s expression softened, and she sighed.

  “If I try to stop you, you’ll figure out how to do it anyway, won’t you?”

  Janey nodded.

  “Well, we’ve come this far,” Lula muttered. “I gotta say, though… this is not the way I expected this day to go.”

  Janey knew exactly what the old woman meant.

  * * *

  Darc pushed open the door that should not be there and walked through the entryway. In his hand he clutched the shaft of the fire lance, its explosive charge now emptied. The weapon would still serve. Beyond the door was a large, open space that echoed the basement of the warehouse from before, save that this was much larger and more opulent.

  Soft illumination lit parts of the room, exposing ornate tapestries with terrifying scenes of violence and human sexuality depicted upon them, rugs and pillows, couches, beds. All spoke of understated taste and elegance married with the darkest of sensibilities.

  The shadows mixed with the vague outlines of light, creating pockets of secrets. The room spoke of the things that hid in the dark, their slimy and grotesque features revealed in moments of shock and terror.

  It was horrific.

  But Darc’s attention could not remain fixed on the setting for long.

  “You see it now, don’t you?” came a voice from the far end of the room. “How terribly overmatched you are?”

  Illumination bloomed there, lighting a previously dark area. The first thing Darc saw was Carly, naked and strapped down to a table. The young woman struggled against her restraints, a cry breaking forth from her lips.

  But standing above Carly was someone that Darc had not expected. Someone that had managed to stay out of the range of his roving bands of logic. Off the informational grid. Unexposed until now.

  The inner landscape of Darc’s mind exploded with the implications of what he saw in front of him. The collusion that had taken Janey from Mala, now explained. The connection to all of the broken foster children used in dark rites. The link that connected all of the points of information into one unthinkable picture.

  Regina Cross.

  All signs of dull bureaucracy had been stripped from her. She stood, resplendent in a black gown with a plunging neckline, her figure exposed and magnificent. Her hair, now out of her ever-present tight bun, flowed down to her waist in soft waves, glistening in the low light. Even her voice, so dry and pedantic, resonated with a richness unknown until this moment.

  And between himself and the now uncovered killer, the last remaining nude figure stood, still weaponless. Regina Cross had spoken of him being overmatched, but the man did not seem that much of a threat.

  But in the new illumination, more information appeared. Information that could be processed. And there was no one better at processing information than Darc.

  The layers of color reached out, probing, testing, assessing. And what they found was troubling. What appeared to be a belt around the waist of the otherwise naked man was not actually a belt.

  It was a sword.

  This was not any sword. It was called an urumi. A weapon originating from the south of India, it was a flexible strip of metal sharpened on both sides.

  A deadly combination of swor
d and whip.

  A weapon that was now coiled around the waist of the naked form right in front of Darc. The man that stood between him and Carly. Between him and the killer.

  Difficult in the extreme to handle, in the possession of a master, the urumi was deadly. And nearly impossible to counter. The flexible blade could flex around any obstacle, rendering a shield almost ineffective.

  Not that Darc had a shield.

  With a flick of his wrist, Darc’s opponent unhooked his weapon from his waist and lashed out. The tip slashed across Darc’s cheek, leaving a hot brand across his face.

  The colored lines quailed. The sword was impossibly long, and snaked about like a live thing. Swirling around the sword, the bands sought for a weakness or opening. But the movements were almost too quick to follow, the curving lines of the attack ever changing. It would take time to assess and anticipate the movements.

  Time Darc did not have.

  Not only was his life in eminent danger, but Regina Cross had removed a large and ornamental dagger from between her breasts. That blade now hovered over Carly’s naked form, tracing lines across her belly.

  “You see, Detective Darcmel?” Cross purred. “I know you do. You see her death. You see your own.”

  Darc darted away from his attacker, another line of fire searing him, this time across his chest. The naked man was taunting him, teasing him with death and pain.

  “I can promise you one thing,” the woman said, sighing in apparent desire. “Both of your deaths will give me great pleasure.”

  Pushing his limits of perception, Darc urged the threads to work faster, to retrieve the information he needed now. They attempted to do so, stretching themselves beyond their typical boundaries, but this was something Darc had never asked for in the past. There had never been a need.

  Another white-hot wound opened up, raking along Darc’s left arm. The pain was intense, even greater than such a cut should create. Had his attacker coated the blade in acid? Darc’s wounds bled and burned, intruding on the process of the colored lights.

  Using some of the information generated by those pathways, Darc used his spear to deflect some of the energy of the next attack. But even with that deflection, the tip of the sword still managed to catch his scalp. Blood poured down his head, blinding him for a moment.

  “Darc!” came a cry from the entrance to the room.

  Glancing over in that direction, Darc saw Mala, her face caught in the beam of Trey’s flashlight, creating a halo around her head. He observed this woman that had intruded into his life in so many ways, and he felt something. A sharp burst of a sensation that was both pleasure and pain. Both heartache and joy. Darc, for once, understood.

  He loved her.

  In that moment, something happened.

  An explosion erupted inside of Darc.

  The white pulses that had continued to extrude from the grey emotional landscape within him blossomed in a silver burst of non-heat. Darc felt his entire being suffused with light.

  The strands of logic, rather than withering under the onslaught, became even more starkly defined. Clarity bled from the supernova of emotional information.

  He looked at Mala and understood how she was feeling, at the same time the threads of logic confirmed that she was unharmed. And accompanied by Trey and that strange man from DSHS, Richard Templeton.

  Turning, he observed his attacker. In addition to tracking the pathways and fluctuations possible with the man’s body and blade, Darc saw his emotional state and how that would affect his next moves.

  He could anticipate and counter the assailant’s every attack. There was nothing left to fear. Darc could see the pathway to his victory over this man.

  In that moment, Darc knew everything.

  * * *

  Janey saw the moment that it happened.

  One second, Darc was just about to be killed. The next, he was in no danger at all.

  The blade whipped around, but Darc seemed like he wasn’t moving at all. The way he moved was like one of those guys that did karate or something like that.

  As the sword slashed toward Darc, he bent his body just a little bit and took one step forward. The flat of the blade wrapped around his chest and Darc caught it underneath his arm.

  There was a moment where the two were looking back and forth at each other, then Darc pulled backward. Hard.

  The hilt of the blade slipped out of the attacker’s hand and clattered to the ground.

  Darc was safe now. There was no way the nasty naked man could fight him without that strange sword of his.

  But now Carly was in danger.

  Janey had seen that Cross lady’s face change when the sword was dropped. The colors in Janey’s head told her that the woman was scared. Scared and mad.

  Regina Cross lifted her hands up over her head, a big dagger clutched in her hands. If Janey didn’t do something, Carly would die.

  So she ran forward, even as Lula cried out to her not to go. She had to. It was her sister that was there on the table.

  Janey ran and threw herself at the back of the woman’s knees. Grown ups were all the same. None of them ever looked down to see what might be coming from below.

  And what was coming from below was Janey.

  “Wha…?” the woman cried out in alarm.

  As Janey hit the back of the social worker’s knees, she could feel Ms. Cross collapse backward. Scuttling back out of the way, Janey watched as the lady hit her head on the hard floor, the big knife skittering away across the floor.

  Janey needed that knife.

  Crawling as fast as she could, she almost had her hands around the hilt when Cross grabbed her ankle, pulling Janey back. She tried to kick at her, but the woman just grunted and kept pulling.

  Apologizing to Popeye even as she did it, Janey whacked the social worker in the face with the bear. There was a cry of surprise from the woman, then she let go for just a split second.

  It was enough.

  Janey grabbed the knife and lashed out at Ms. Cross’s hand as the woman tried to grab her again. Cross yelped in pain, clutching her bleeding hand to her chest as Janey put the blade against the woman’s throat.

  The social worker went still, her eyes glittering in the dark. And even though Janey had just used her bear like a weapon, Janey could hear Popeye chuckling. It didn’t even seem like he was mad at Janey at all.

  He must really hate that woman a lot.

  Then Darc and Trey and Mala were all there, and Trey and Mala were untying Carly while Darc held the point of his lance against Ms. Cross’s chest. Janey could see that he was thinking. Thinking about whether or not it would be a good thing to kill this evil lady.

  Janey knew that, in a way, it would be a good thing. Ms. Cross had hurt and killed so many people.

  But killing her like this would be wrong. Janey could feel that too.

  She looked up at Darc. He looked back at her.

  Then he nodded and stepped back.

  Regina Cross would spend the rest of her life in jail. And that would have to be enough. It didn’t feel right, but it felt better than Darc killing her.

  Sometimes life was hard.

  Popeye grunted and started complaining about how Janey had hurt his head when she’d used him as a club. He seemed to agree with the whole life was hard thing.

  Janey glanced around. Darc was there. Trey was there. Mala and Carly were there. Even Popeye. Yeah, life was hard.

  But it was also pretty great.

  EPILOGUE

  Mala stumbled over to where Darc and Carly were being looked at by the paramedics. Never in her life had she been more happy to see the overcast Seattle sky.

  Darc had gotten the worst of it, with the wounds from the strange ancient weapons taking their toll even on the detective’s hardened body and steel will. For a short time there, Mala had been terrified that this strange man would no longer be a part of her life. That he would fall in front of the fury of a blade that flowed like water and stru
ck with the fury of a scorpion.

  Off to the side, policemen swarmed around Regina Cross. Venom bled from the woman’s eyes as she was marched toward the nearest squad car.

  That social worker would be spending a long time in prison. Actually, considering the nature of her crimes, Cross might find prison to be a pretty nasty place.

  Whatever happened there, Mala couldn’t bring herself to feel bad about it.

  A sudden movement caught her attention, and Mala turned to see Darc pushing the paramedics away from him. He stood and walked over to face Mala, an odd expression playing across his face.

  Reaching inside his pocket, Darc retrieved something that Mala couldn’t see, then sank down. Worried that his wounds had gotten the better of him, Mala went to help.

  Then she saw what he was doing.

  Darc was kneeling in front of her. And in his hand, a ruby shimmered. The gemstone was attached to a ring that shone in his hand. Its shape was simple but elegant, antique, and the patina of the white gold shimmered. The light reflected from its surface felt like it penetrated into Mala’s depths.

  “What…? How…?” Mala sputtered, overwhelmed.

  “I have carried this ring with me ever since the day we rescued you from Van Owen,” Darc answered. Then he looked down. “I purchased it two days after we met.”

  “But why…?”

  What was wrong with Mala? Why couldn’t she form complete sentences?

  “I was waiting until I knew that I could be a good husband.” He lifted his eyes back up to Mala’s, and in them, she saw something she had never before beheld there.

  Darc loved her. She could see it.

  Tears sprang to her eyes, and she reached out toward this man who held her heart. He took her hand in his and slid the ring onto her finger.

  Locking gazes with her, Darc spoke once more.

  “I know now. I know.”

  Then Mala was in his arms and everything was right. She could feel his heart beating against hers, and in that moment they were one.

  Janey rushed over to them, wrapping her arms around both of them. Carly watched from where she lay on the gurney, her eyes shining.