Death of Night

by Krissy Reynolds

  Wary, I said, "Yeah, Fletcher, it's me."

  Fletcher choked, and yelled, "Let go of me!" at Veronica. He was almost hysterical as he twisted in her grip, dropping into a heap on the dirty floor when Veronica let go. She wore a stunned expression, taken aback at his aggressive action.

  Fletcher straightened himself, and balanced his wire-rimmed glasses that had gone askew on his nose. He swept his gaze over me, taking every part of me in. I unfolded my arms, and walked over to him.

  As I got nearer to him, Fletcher breathed, "Oh, wow. Wow, wow, wow."

  Veronica composed herself, lifted Bill up by the shirt, and wheeled him over to the bed.

  "What is it?" I asked.

  Fletcher didn't take his eyes off me as he shook his head in amazement. "Oh, boy. They are going to flip!"

  "Who, Fetcher?" Veronica huffed, using his nickname.

  "I can't believe it!" he said, getting excited.

  "Who?" I asked, voice menacingly low.

  He ruffled his mousy hair in agitation. He just realized he had slipped, and tried to backpedal.

  "Ah, no one," was his meek reply. Veronica's hand went out and pushed him down on the bed. I put my hands on my hips, and stared down at him. We didn't want to hurt him, at least not much. But he didn't know that. Both us women looked angry, frustrated, and fed up with him.

  Fletcher's hands went up in surrender. "Okay, okay! I don't know much. Just that you," he looked pointedly at me, "should be dead."

  Veronica's breath left her in a gasp. She stared at me with a horrified expression. "You told me it was a little scrape!"

  Glaring at Fletcher, I touched my side gingerly. Both of their eyes followed my movements, so I dropped my hand, not wanting to make a big deal.

  "I'm fine, Ron," I said offhandedly, adding "Now, you need to start explaining, you idiotic miscreant" for Fletcher.

  "I hear things, you know," he began, shoving Veronica's hands off him as he sat up. His clothes were crumpled with a few days wear, and his socks had holes in them. "I heard someone put a hit out on you. I thought they, you know, succeeded. Everyone else does, too. From what I've found out, that stab wound should've killed you that night."

  A moment of silence, then I broke it by saying, "Who ordered the hit?"

  "Dunno. Whole underground community is buzzing, though. Supposedly you have something everyone wants, so someone decided to kill you and end the frenzy," he looked at me with wide eyes, "They ordered expert assassins, guys."

  The thoughts in my mind were stuck. I didn't speak, unable to form words. I could feel the attention on me, and I didn't like it. I turned away from their prying eyes, and focused my own on the dismal window. It was dark outside, the security lights having gone out.

  Fletcher babbled, "How did you survive that? I heard all about it. I mean, it happened, right? It's not just talk?"

  Veronica coaxed, "Dahlia, honey?" when I didn't answer.

  "No, it's not talk," I finally said, turning back to them with a shrug.

  "You didn't willingly take those days off, did you?" Veronica was putting the pieces together, appalled at what she was perceiving.

  The lights outside turned on again. I dashed to the window, pulling the musty drapes farther back. I saw nothing in the parking lot, and a scanned the tree line as well, thinking someone might be lurking in the shadows. Maybe I was being paranoid. No one wanted to tag little, incompetent Bill Fletcher. No one wanted anything with Veronica Murray, private investigator. And, as for me, well, it seemed like everyone wanted to hurt me. Okay, so maybe I wasn't being paranoid.

  I jerked my head to the door, and said in a soft voice, "Let's go."

  My father had always said I found it easier to face danger than my emotions, and I never really thought about that until now. Deep down, I was scared and confused, but I shoved those feelings aside to make way for the shield I was so fond of. Right now was one of those times.

  Veronica nodded, and said, "Okay. Get up, Fetcher. I'm gonna drive Dahlia home, then drop you off in a prison cell."

  The corners of my mouth quirked up into a small smile, and I nodded back. I was relieved I wouldn't have to take the bus out of this tiny, hole-in-the-wall town to the underground, where I would then have to ride the subway all the way back to Freemont Avenue. A car ride would be much faster, and a lot more comfortable.

  I crossed the small motel room and opened the door for Veronica and Fletcher. My eyes darted around, looking signs of a threat. The floodlights were still on, shining brightly enough to illuminate everything in my field of vision. Veronica gripped Bill's arm and pulled him reluctantly to the door. She gave me an indescribable look when she passed by me. It was half astonishment and half uncomfortable wonder and admiration. I didn't know what the second was for. All I had done was gone and get myself stabbed.

  "What about my stuff?" Bill whined as Veronica tugged him down the stairs.

  "You mean Grandma Agnes' stuff?" she quipped, and he flushed. Fletcher had what some called senior kleptomania; he could hardly help himself from stealing from old people.

  I followed them, going down the steps at a fast pace. Veronica's car, a shiny red Saab, was waiting for us in the parking lot. It was the second of only three cars, pulled into a spot closer to the main road than the motel itself. Veronica opened the back door and pushed Fletcher in roughly, shutting it when his protests began again. Her manicured fingernail pressed down on the remote once. The car chirped, locking him in, and stood next to me. Together, we scanned the darkness.

  In three seconds, five looming figures emerged from the trees, faces masked by the obscurity of the night.

  I wasn't sure what I expected.

  But it sure wasn't this.

  Chapter 5

  * * *

  Adrenaline pumped through my veins. It made me feel light-headed. The fight-or-flight instinct thrummed in my head. It made my body stiff with indecision. Apprehension and uneasiness curled themselves into a tight ball of heat, settling in my stomach. The propensity of my mind turned that fear into power, extinguishing the fire.

  The five indistinguishable shapes came into the parking lot. They walked in a straight line, stepping into the floodlights in a coordinated movement. All five moved as lithely as ballerinas, eerily graceful. The security light was to their backs, covering the details of their faces from us. I heard Veronica utter a sound of disbelief beside me. I risked taking my eyes off the five forms standing thirty feet away to look at her. Her expression could easily be described as frightened, mixed with a strong sense of pride. I wasn't sure what mine looked like.

  Veronica met my eyes. "What's going on?" she breathed.

  "I have no idea," I exhaled back. We looked back at the five people.

  One had stepped forward, breaking the perfect line. I squinted to get a closer look, to find any speck of a familiar face. It was clearly a male, his muscular shoulders giving him away. His outline appeared taller than any of the others, and stronger.

  He continued walking towards us with a deliberate slowness. The misting rain began to blur the space between Veronica, the car, and I from the remaining four standing apart from the man nearest to us. He halted twenty feet away from us, angled so that light broke through the black circle around him; his silhouette. The man's face became visible to my eyes.

  I sucked in a breath. He was hauntingly beautiful. Translucent skin graced with ethereal features. He wore no facial expression, staring at me impassively with piercing dark eyes. That scared me more than if he had been raging mad.

  The mystery man slid his gaze from me to Veronica. "Go," he said in a clear voice, "We have no need of you."

  Veronica shifted beside me, and I looked down at her. She had a wavering look, clearly fighting her own instinct to flee. She wouldn't meet my eyes.

  "No, I'll stay," she finally said.

  "Leave," he reiterated, "Or I'll make you."

  The way he spoke, the way he showed no emotion, the way he stood so still was inexplicable.
The man was the embodiment of supremacy and undeniable power. I had never encountered such a person my entire life. He radiated dominance over everyone standing in the small clearing the way a radiator on high emits heat in a small room.

  I didn't know what was going on, but I could taste the danger in the air. I didn't want Veronica to be a part of whatever was going to happen.

  "It's okay," I whispered, "Take Fletcher and get out of here."

  Veronica looked astonished. Glancing at me, she murmured, "Are you kidding me? They look like they could hurt someone real bad, and you're already injured. I'm not going anywhere."

  The man moved closer in warning. I closed my eyes and said softly, "I'll be fine, Ron. Just get out of here."

  "No!" Veronica whispered harshly, "How can you even consider facing these people alone?"

  'I don't want you to get hurt."

  "That's not a good enough answer."

  "Then what is?" I muttered, opening my eyes again to see the man moving even closer. She needed to leave. Now.

  "Go," he said again.

  Veronica shook her head with feeble determination.

  "This is your last warning," the man's voice rung out. He was ten feet away from us now.

  Veronica gritted her teeth, flicking her ponytail out of the way. "Or what?"

  Neither of us saw him coming. I hadn't even noticed him move an inch. He was so fast and quiet that a scream of surprise escaped Veronica's mouth as she fell on her knees. In another flash, he gripped the front of her coat, and held her close to his flawless, hard face.

  No signs of strain showed on his face as he pulled her to her feet in one fluid movement. Veronica let out a whimper.

  "Or I'll hurt you," he said simply.

  The guy had no pretenses, and absolutely no qualms about hurting innocent people. The fear made its way into my chest again, cold this time as I realized this man wasn't fooling around.

  He suddenly let go and his hand darted out so fast it seemed impossible. Veronica fell into a heap on the gravel. Rocks stuck to her wool coat when she struggled to an upright position. A red line was trickling out of a corner of her mouth. She wiped the blood away with a trembling hand.

  "Go, Ron!" I said loudly, desperate for her to get out of harm's way. She didn't deserve this. I didn't either, but it was better her than me.

  Veronica's self-preservation kicked in. She gave me a guilty, apologetic nod, again, not making eye contact. With a helping hand from me, she stood up. Her feet scattered the small stones of the parking lot as she jogged unstably towards the Saab. The car chirruped for the second time, and I heard a door slamming. The engine revved, and the car jerked forward. I saw Fletcher's frightened face pressed against the window, shock-white and eyes wide. The tires squealed as Veronica sped up and turned onto the main road, almost grazing a metal sign in the process. The car's sound faded into the distance, leaving the rest of us with silence.

  * * *

  I decided right there and then that my life had swerved out of control. Attempted murder, three days spent unconscious, a demotion, talk in the criminal underground concerning me, and now this. My life had twisted itself out of my grasp, no longer in my control.

  The silence was loud. The only thing I heard was the rain pattering down on the tin roof of the Sea Shell Motel. I had my back to the road, directly facing the five mysterious forms alone.

  I found it ironic that I came here as back-up, only to be left standing here by myself. I blinked the light drizzle out of my eyes, trying to concentrate. A full minute passed in without any breaks in the stillness of the night.

  The man was the first to speak. "Not what I expected, Ms. Simon."

  He took a step forward, and I took one back. I wanted to keep that space between us as distant as possible. A slow smile spread across his face in comprehension. It was the first sign of emotion that he had shown.

  I mustered the nerve to reply. "What did you expect?"

  "A meek little human who would have tried to run away," he said, cocking his head to the side in curiosity.

  I arched my eyebrows in question.

  "You didn't," he stated, "I'm impressed."

  "Oh, goody," I muttered, looking at the ground.

  "Don't be mistaken. It won't help you in the least," he said through his chilling smile.

  I raised my head and met his eyes. The irises were clouded with dark shadows, making his eyes look black. Underneath both his eyes were dark rings, like he hadn't gotten sleep in the past week. Neither of these things disrupted his otherworldly beauty, though. I'd never seen someone like this before. He was hardly human.

  A figure stood out from the line of the remaining four, leaving three standing beside each other. It glided over to the man standing in front of me. I noticed as it walked closer, emerging from the haziness of the mist, that it was another male. He was trimmer, less muscular than the other, but agile. He gave me an unsettling look before he turned to whisper into the ear of the man next to him.

  I had a moment to myself to think while they conversed in hushed voices. I took in my surroundings. My main goal was to find an exit. The trees that lay behind the three remaining shapes were promising, except that I couldn't outrun five people. The road behind me was another prospect. That, too, would require a great deal of running. I didn't think I was up to it. Maybe I could talk my way of it.

  "The others are getting impatient," the first man said out loud.

  "Okay," I answered, "You can go. Don't worry about me."

  Both of them smiled. Scratch talking my way out of this.

  The three other people appeared out of the night's misting rain, startling me. All five of them resembled each other. Though their features and colourings were unalike, they shared something. It could have been their eyes; darkened by the shadows clouding the irises. Perhaps it was the way they moved; fluidly, swiftly. Maybe it was the strangeness of their presence; seductively lethal. Or it could've been the way they all were looking at me. They almost looked…hungry.

  When one moved even the slightest inch in my direction, I flung up a hand. "What," I demanded, "is going on, people?"

  They all exchanged amused looks.

  "You mean you don't know?" a female simpered. I immediately didn't like her.

  "Would I be asking otherwise?" I snapped. Getting frustrated right now probably wasn't the brightest idea, but I could hardly help myself. They were threatening me without telling me why.

  "You don't know why we're here?" another woman said, sounding a tad bored.

  "No," I replied honestly.

  The first man closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. "She is telling the truth," he said after a moment.

  "She doesn't know about the Letalis Flora?" a third man hissed to the others.

  Everyone gave him a sharp look, including me. Letalis Flora?

  The woman I disliked pursed her lips. "Well, she does now, Thanes."

  "What is going on?" I blurted out loudly.

  Five pairs of ghostly eyes fixed on me. I shifted and pulled my jacket closer around me. I knew just by looking at them that they were dangerous; powerful alone, dangerous united. The man who had approached me first was definitely the leader of them all. He overpowered them in both muscle and presence.

  "Explaining it to her wasn't part of the deal," the man standing next to the leader said.

  The leader looked at me in thought. "No. Perhaps it is best to keep that a secret."

  I sighed. The cold night whipped at my face as I stood there waiting for them act.

  The leader continued to stare at me. "On the other hand, maybe she deserves to know."

  The second man looked over his shoulder at the two women and Thanes standing behind him. They swapped unsure looks.

  "Deserve to know what?" I asked harshly, certain I wasn't going to get a satisfying answer even if I sugar-coated it.

  "The reason you're going to die tonight," the first woman sneered.

  "Rhiannon," the leader warned.
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  At Rhiannon's words, my breath left me. The danger wasn't an illusion. It was real.

  As the reality of what was about to happen hit me, all five of them sensed the fear that momentarily took over my senses. My mind automatically threw up its shield, pushing all weak feelings out and replacing them with courage. Sometimes I was thankful for this ability. Other times I wished my natural human emotions would stay with me for more than five minutes.

  "What is it with everyone trying to kill me?" I complained, earning a couple mildly amused looks.

  "Everyone?" the second man questioned.

  "Well, first it was getting stabbed, then you guys-"

  The leader cut me off. "Stabbed?"

  I raised my eyebrows. "Yeah. I thought you would have heard about it. Everyone else has." My thoughts found their way to Fletcher and Veronica. I wondered where they were now.

  The second man looked at the leader. Without taking his eyes of him, he said to me, "When was this?"

  "About six days ago?" I replied uncertainly.

  It was the leader who spoke now. "Only six days ago?"

  "It couldn't have been too bad, then," the second female said.

  "I almost died," I said, "I would say it was bad."

  "You must recover impossibly fast," she said, disbelieving.

  I didn't reply for lack of an answer. A smug look set in on her pale face.

  "You must've imagined it," she concluded.

  "You don't wonder why all these people are after you?" the third man, Thanes, asked.

  "I haven't really gotten a chance to," I answered.

  "Can we get on with this?" Rhiannon said, tossing her chestnut hair behind her in one smooth movement, "I'm hungry."

  "There's a pizza place down the road," I offered, and the four others laughed softly.

  Rhiannon slit her eyes, throwing me a poisonous glare. "I don't want pizza, you stupid human."

  Feeling braver than I should have, I said, "They serve spaghetti as well."

  The woman's eyes flashed to solid black. They stayed that way. Her stare never wavered, even as the second woman put a hand on her arm. At first it looked as if it was in concern, and then I noticed it was for restraint.