Night's Fall (Night's Champion Book 2)

by Richard Parry

“The grandfather, he leans down to the grandson. Takes the kid’s shoulders in his old, weathered hands. I don’t know, maybe he looks the kid in the eyes — it doesn’t matter. But he says to the kid, ‘The one you feed.’” Val stared at the creature, long and hard. “Which is it going to be? For you, good or evil?”

  There is no good or evil. There is only Pack.

  “No,” said Val. “How we look after our family — the choices we make? That’s what defines us. You were there when the dragons fell. You saw the things that made them fall. Has none of that time taught you anything? The world will give you back what you give it. And you’ve done nothing but take, and kill, and murder, for thousands upon thousands of years. What kind of debt do you think the Universe has banked up for you? For your Pack?”

  There was silence in the tiny forest for a time. The creature shuffled in the shadows, then blinked those yellow eyes at Val. What is it that you want?

  “I would like to propose a … a partnership.”

  You are ever bound to me.

  “You know that’s also not true,” said Val. “We’re both here, because you are bound to another.”

  He spoils good meat. He is not the Night.

  “If you’re so big and strong,” said Val, “why is it that you’re a slave to him?”

  You let it happen.

  “I didn’t do any such thing,” said Val. “There was a briefcase—”

  Your metal toys are nothing. You have made me a slave by seeing me as you want to see me.

  “As a curse.”

  The Night is the Night.

  Val thought about that. “And I wanted to get rid of the curse.”

  You are ever bound to me.

  “Tell you what,” said Val. “You want to hear my proposal?”

  I will listen.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

  “It’s not possible,” said Talin. His eyes were wide, the whites showing. Adalia faced him across the ruined room, her hair being pulled about her head by wind coursing through the room.

  Adalia didn’t need to take that small sideways step, not anymore. The Universe filled her, surrounded her. She felt like she would burst, or fall to dust, or catch on fire, or drown, all at the same time. “You have set each step in motion that allowed this to happen. Here is the trade I will make with you.”

  “I don’t want—”

  “I will take from you your power. The Night does not belong to you. I will take it from you and keep it safe. In return, I will give you something precious, something so small, and simple, that even a child knows it. I will give you a conscience, Talin Moray. I will give you back your soul.”

  Talin had picked up a knife, a small, ugly thing, crusted in old blood. He ran for her, made quick by the Night. She watched him come, his lithe movements as he vaulted stone, broken wood, and steel. He would be on her in just a moment. Time enough.

  Adalia looked down at her feet. She was floating in the air, her toes inches from the ground. Her gaze went to her Mom, her cage bleeding light and smoke in the face of the Universe. Danny’s eyes were open, her yellow eyes watching, waiting. Adalia turned her gaze to Valentine.

  “Get up, Knight.”

  Val’s body stirred, an arm twitching. His skin began to reform over his face, his head.

  “Get up, Valentine Everard. The Sacrifice was made. The price was paid. It is time for you to take your place in this world once more. You are not yet done.”

  Talin was close now, so close. He was going to make it, before she was finished. Adalia thought hard about how to stop him, about how to—

  There was a thwack, and Talin staggered with a blow. An axe protruded from the side of his head, and Adalia’s eyes went to Uncle John. Uncle John, standing tall in the face of the Universe, unbowed. Of course. He had always known his place in the Universe, had always known that he was one of its favored sons.

  “Hi,” said Uncle John, to Talin. “How’s that feel? Tickles a little?”

  Talin stumbled, a hand reaching for the haft of the axe. He screamed as he pulled it free, then turned on John. He raised the axe.

  “Guy?” Uncle John shook his head. “Always look behind you.”

  Talin paused, just for a moment.

  “I think,” said Uncle John, “that you should wonder why you’re still bleeding. Why you didn’t change. Don’t you think you should have changed?”

  There was a low growl, guttural, and all eyes turned to Val. Where Val had been, and where the creature now stood. Its teeth were bared, its eyes bright, so bright.

  “Night is not yet ready to fall,” said Adalia. She turned to the creature that was Val. “I kept it for you. Until you got back. And now I need to make the trade. Are you ready?”

  The creature looked at her, took a heavy step forward, the floor shaking as it placed its feet. Talin gave a yell and made a final lunge for Adalia. She could see the knife, the edge of it as it came for her flesh, to take her life away, and she closed her eyes to welcome it. She’d done it, and she could go now. To see Just James. To stand with him on the Cliffs of the Damned.

  There was a thump, and a crunch, and Adalia opened her eyes. Talin’s arm, the one that had held the knife, was gone, torn free. Talin was trying to scream but he was panting, gasping, looking like he was right on the edge of noise but unable to make a sound. The creature stood next to her, holding the arm before it tossed it aside like a stick it was bored with. It growled again, then picked Talin up in one massive, clawed hand and tossed him across the room, blood trailing through the air in his wake. It looked at her, those yellow eyes ancient.

  It walked to her mom’s cage, grabbing the bars. It roared, smoke peeling away from its clawed hands as it bent and rent the bars. They sheared away with a squeal of metal. The thing that was Val stepped back, eyes searching the room.

  John came up to it, stood before it. “I’ll get her.” He went into the cage, and helped Danny up. Carried her in his good, strong arms out through the broken bars, and placed her on the ground. As she got free of the bars, she looked less weak, less sallow. She stood up, eyes bright, and looked at the creature that was Val.

  “We must hunt,” she said.

  “No,” said John. “You’ve got to kill a motherfucker.”

  Danny looked up at Adalia, then walked towards where Val had thrown Talin. With each step she shifted, something else coming out from within, until two massive things moved through what was left of the penthouse.

  “It is almost balanced,” said Adalia. “Now, Talin. Now that you have given me your power, I will give you your conscience. I will let you feel every tiny thing you have done.” She reached for one of the thousand, thousand threads that she could see around her, finding exactly the right one, and tugged it. Not very hard, just a little pull, but it snapped and shriveled and was gone.

  Talin stood, holding the stump of his missing arm. His eyes were wide. “I have…” His look was stricken, and he swallowed. He looked exactly like a man who realized he had done terrible things, but for the first time in his life. And the last.

  “You have broken the Covenant,” said Adalia. “Your life is forfeit.”

  The creatures that were Val and Danny fell on Talin Moray, tossing his body between them. They each took turns, shaking him until the life left him, his screams and cries nothing.

  They were, after all, the Night.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT

  The steady beat of helicopter rotors hit the air. For all that they were military craft, Adalia found the sound soothing. It was someone coming to help, or at least that’s what she thought.

  “Are you really okay?” Gabriel was at her side, the cold Chicago wind not affecting him at all. His T-shirt moved a little in the breeze.

  Adalia scrunched into her jacket a little deeper. “Why would I not be?”

  “The Universe,” said Gabriel, “is pretty big.”

  “Yes,” she said. “It’s going to be okay.”

  The Black Hawk landed in front of their l
ittle rag tag group. There was Melissa, and Uncle John, and Rex. Her Mom and Val were—

  Hunting.

  —making sure of a few things. Everyone looked just about dead, except for her. She was just cold.

  But she felt so alive.

  The Lost Warrior got out of the helicopter. She looked at Adalia, then moved to Melissa’s side. “I got your message,” she said.

  “I sent it,” said Adalia. “You said that we should call. When it was safe.”

  “Is it?” said Jessica Pearce.

  Gabriel’s eyes were bright with what would have been tears if he were alive. “It’s safe,” he said.

  Jessica’s eyes narrowed, as if she could almost hear something. “Jessica,” said Adalia. “I would like to make a trade.”

  “You don’t have to trade,” said Jessica. “I’m here to help.”

  “Wait until I finish,” said Adalia. “This city of Chicago. It’s dying. It’s sick, and I need someone to make it better. All the people here, they are going to be waking up soon. And I need someone who can help them. Not just help them, but make it right for them.”

  “I’m a soldier,” said Jessica.

  “And you have access to hot meals, and tents, and … and blankets. It’s cold here, Jessica,” said Adalia.

  “I don’t know if I can do that,” said Jessica. “It’s a little outside my remit. I can make some calls.”

  “Do you want to hear the trade?” said Adalia.

  “Sure, kid,” said Jessica, with an indulgent smile.

  “I will,” said Adalia, “let you see the face of your son one more time. I will let you hear his voice, and let him speak to you.”

  “No,” said Gabriel. “No. It is too much.”

  Jessica took three quick strides to stand in front of Adalia. Her hand was raised in a fist, and the look on her face said she didn’t even remember how it got there. “Don’t. Don’t you speak of him.”

  Adalia brushed aside her hair. “Jessica? He’s right here.”

  Jessica looked around, her eyes going right past where Gabriel stood. “I … I don’t … I can’t see him.”

  “Not yet,” said Adalia. “Do we have a trade?”

  “No,” said Gabriel.

  “Yes,” said Jessica.

  “Jessica Pearce,” said Adalia. “Jessica Pearce. I make this trade with you. You will give to this city aid. Food, and doctors, and whatever else it needs. It will cost you your good name and everything you’ve thought you wanted. In return, I give you this. I give you back your son. I give you back what you needed.”

  Adalia sagged to the ground, drained. She was crying again, and she didn’t know why for a moment until she realized she was feeling Gabriel’s hurt, and Jessica’s hurt, all rolled into one. She blinked, and looked at them. Jessica’s eyes were wide, her hand stretched out to Gabriel. He — a flesh and blood he, made real, if only for a moment — was crying, and laughing, and crying some more.

  “I’m sorry,” Jessica said. “I said I’d be there.”

  “I’m sorry,” Gabriel said. “I shouldn’t have gone in front.”

  Then they were hugging, and talking, and laughing, and crying some more. Adalia walked away from them to stand next to Melissa, and Uncle John, and Rex.

  Rex cleared his throat. “Where the fuck did that boy come from?”

  “He’s been here the whole time,” said Adalia.

  “Huh,” said Rex. “That’s something you don’t see every day.”

  “I’m cool with it,” said Uncle John.

  “What did you do?” said Melissa.

  Adalia smiled at her. “Something beautiful.”

  ∙ • ● • ∙

  Gabriel came to stand in front of her. “I think … I think I need to go now.”

  “You do,” said Adalia. “You shouldn’t even be here at all.”

  “I haven’t finished though,” he said. His long lashes lowered as he looked at his feet. “I was supposed to help you.”

  Adalia laughed. “You were never here for me, Gabriel.”

  “What?”

  “I was here for you.” She reached out to touch his hand. “I was here for you.”

  “Adalia Kendrick,” said Gabriel. “Adalia Kendrick, I love you.”

  “Shhh now,” she said. “That’s enough.”

  But she was speaking to herself, as the winds plucked away Gabriel Pearce like lost smoke, and took him to where the dead go when they die.

  ∙ • ● • ∙

  Melissa was sitting on the bench next to her. They looked out at a street filling with National Guard, and said nothing very much for a long time. Melissa had offered to shoot the first soldier that had tried to take her away for ‘medical help’, and now she was resting in their made-quiet zone.

  Adalia scuffed her shoe against the ground. “You should have let them take you,” she said. “You’re pretty beat up.”

  “You’re the expert now?” Melissa snorted.

  “I know everything—”

  “No,” said Melissa.

  “I—”

  “It’s not that I don’t believe that you know things,” she said, her voice so soft Adalia had to strain to hear. “It’s that I don’t know if you know the right things.”

  Adalia thought about that for a while, their pool of silence holding against the bustle of activity around them. “I know why Ajay … did what he did.”

  “That’s not really a thing I care about,” said Melissa, in a tone that said she cared very much. Her hands were gripping her jeans, fingers white.

  “No lies,” said Adalia.

  Melissa sighed. “No lies,” she agreed. “I thought—”

  “He was broken,” said Adalia. She twisted her fingers together. “Like if you get two sets of Lego, and make them into each other. Neither can be what it was supposed to be.”

  “Raeni?” Melissa frowned. “That was real?”

  “She burrowed in to his soul, through his heart,” said Adalia. “He was Talin’s son, do you know that? I thought that was weird. And she wanted to control him. And she did. And then … she got you too. Caught you, like a fly in amber. Made you … want him.”

  “Possession?” Melissa leaned forward, hugging herself. “Like a demon?”

  “It’s not like the movies,” said Adalia.

  “You shouldn’t be watching those kinds of movies. You’re too young.”

  Adalia let that sit between them for a moment. “I’m … too young?”

  “Yeah,” said Melissa. “There are rules.” But Adalia could see the hint of a smile on Melissa’s face, and it warmed her heart to see it there.

  “He wanted to love you,” said Adalia.

  “No lies,” said Melissa.

  “It’s true,” she said, her hair spilling around her face as she looked at the ground. “There was a piece of him left that hadn’t been gnawed away. It saw the brightness of you. It’s what pulled them here. It’s what you saw in him. I can feel it, Melissa. I can … see what might have been, if she hadn’t … broken the rules.” Adalia rubbed a tear off her face. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m crying.”

  “Me neither,” said Melissa, rubbing her face as well. “I’m not really the crying type, but I think today I killed a man who I wanted to … know … because a dead woman ate his soul.”

  “I let the sweetest boy I’ve ever met kill himself so that the Universe’s trade could be made,” said Adalia. “I miss him.”

  “Yeah,” said Melissa. Then, “Yeah, that’s not great.”

  “It wasn’t that Talin was evil, that there’s some cosmic balance between light and dark that needs to be maintained,” said Adalia. “That’s what we do. People. We decide. No … it’s that he broke the rules. The Universe doesn’t care about us, not in the way you think. Not in a good and evil kind of way. That’s what made … that’s why James Malory had to die. Something right was made wrong, so something wrong had to be done to make it right.”

  “Malory, huh?” Mel
issa looked out at the street, as if Adalia was making perfect sense. “That’s a good name, for a good kid.”

  “He could see it,” said Adalia, pleading. “Couldn’t he?”

  “Kid,” said Melissa.

  “Yes?” But she was crying now, the tears spilling out like they’d never stop.

  “Kid,” said Melissa. “This is one of those ‘right things’ you don’t know. It doesn’t matter if he could see it. He could see you.”

  “What have I done?” said Adalia, her breath coming faster. “What am I?”

  Melissa’s arms were warm around her, her friend’s words soft in her ear. “Something beautiful.”

  CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE

  The news was full of stories of a mysterious virus, something that stole a whole city’s will to live. The recovery teams were helping. They mentioned a Major Pearce who had spearheaded initial efforts before disappearing. They’d wanted to court-martial her at first, said she’d misappropriated resources, whatever that meant. When the tide of sentiment had turned, when the people had been cheering for her, for what she’d done, well. Then they’d wanted to give her a medal. Pearce, it seemed, wanted neither of those things. She’d walked off, exited stage left, leaving the city better than it was when she’d started. Walked out, didn’t say goodbye or thank you. Major Jessica Pearce wasn’t angry or sad. She was done.

  Val walked into the apartment lobby, his arms heavy with bags. Danny was at—

  Pack mate.

  —his side, carrying more bags. They’d been out shopping. Chicago was limping back to its feet, stores opening, people getting by. It would be a while, maybe never, before the city was whole again. Until that happened, there was plenty of work to be done. Petty crime, and other not-so-petty crime, was festering under the skin of the place, and it needed constant attention.

  Val put the bags down in the foyer. There were plenty of hungry people here who could use it. Danny left hers there as well — they kept one bag back and started to climb the stairs. Electricity was still iffy, and being stuck in an elevator for an hour wasn’t good, clean, family fun. They pushed open the door to their floor, the faded carpet at least clean. Danny led the way, curls bouncing, and opened the door for him.