Winter Shadows

by Richard Amos

  The shadow shrieked and hissed and thrashed, but the area where its eyes were, which must be its head, was close enough. Just as another zombie reached for me, I grabbed hold of the shadow’s head with my free hand.

  I was in the place of fog and golden light. My arm was on fire from the bite.

  I’d done it. I was inside one of the shadows! Oh, my God! After everything, I was there.

  I needed a moment, but didn’t take one. That golden light was waiting for me to consume it. And I needed it, longed for it.

  Kill … Feed …

  This would be one satisfying meal.

  Hand over the spinning golden light, I hesitated. Once I did the business, I’d be back in the real world surrounded by a horde of zombies.

  Crap!

  Kill … Feed …

  I wasn’t about to hide in this shitty place. I’d just have to do my job and hope to Hecate that I wouldn’t be the next in line in some sort of meal chain—first the shadow, then me. Oh how lovely! Bit like the old lady who swallowed a fly!

  Kill … Feed …

  I destroyed the beast’s essence. Man, the rush. It was a hot bath and sex and chocolate all wrapped into one. Pleasure took hold, lifting me up into a place of nirvana I didn’t want to come down from. And was I so horny! No, beyond horny. This was something else, a real rush to my groin. I needed to fuck right now, right here. Where was—

  “Jake!” Dean’s voice came to me. My dick throbbed at the sound of the baritone. I needed—

  Oh, bollocks! Bam! Reality snapped back into my head. I was back in where the zombies were.

  “Oh sh—” Silence.

  The zombies were now flat on their backs.

  Greg was holding Dean up as they staggered over. The two men collapsed beside me, covered in scratches. Greg’s lips were bleeding. Dean was bleeding from his right thigh—a clear bite mark right through his jeans and into his flesh.

  I crouched down. “Shit!”

  “I’m okay,” he said.

  “You’re not okay! Greg?”

  “Didn’t take any bites,” he said. “Had some fun with the hyenas and Purple though.” He winced, sucking in air through clenched teeth.

  My pain was gone. I hadn’t noticed the healing power. Well, I’d been … distracted after the killing and feeding. Thankfully, my boner was quickly softening.

  “Guys!” Nay joined us. She immediately got to work, pulling out a vial and flooding Dean’s wound with some white liquid.

  “Thanks,” Dean said via a clenched jaw.

  “You killed it,” Randy said, waddling over. His jaw was on the floor.

  “Only one,” I said. “I need to hit the other tower.” I looked at the nearest zombie. It was breathing.

  “They’re alive,” Rose confirmed. “We need to get them all inside, get them warm.”

  Without a word, Randy started to drag a man across the concrete by his ankles. It would be slow work for him, but I was impressed. He was a conundrum, that goblin.

  “The hyena beasts,” Greg said. “They’re in there.” He nodded to Tower 1. “We fucked them up pretty good for now, but we need to be careful. Purple did a runner.”

  “I’ll kill them,” I said. “But first things first.” I got to my feet. I hoped I wasn’t too late and Lilisian was already up and running.

  “I’m going with you,” Nay said.

  “We’ll look after the boys,” Rose said. “Don’t worry about the hyenas. Just kill the bastard!”

  I nodded. “Come on, Nay.”

  Together we hurried to Tower 2, stepping over sleeping city folk. This would be one serious mess to clean up, some major mind-manipulation magic required to hide this along with the magic and tech that worked to keep up Coldharbour’s lie of normality.

  Like before, I destroyed the front door of the tower and hurried inside.

  Now, if I were a crazy shadow beast, where would I be hiding?

  “This is gonna have to be floor by floor,” I said. “But we stick together.”

  “Yes, babe.”

  So we did a sweep of the ground floor, my active sparks our light. Nay waved her hands over the keyholes on the flat doors while mumbling. “Got some juice left seeing as I didn’t need to use the spell I was cooking to save the boys. These spells aren’t too taxing, but it’s long-winded.” It took twenty seconds per incantation to get the doors open. And some even had gates over the doors.

  Bollocks! This was taking way too long. But what choice did we have?

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  By the third floor we’d still found nothing but sleeping people and silence. Only seventeen floors to go. The shadow would probably be right up on the seventeenth floor, laughing at our slow pace.

  Still, being top of the shop was a little too obvious. Or so I was thinking.

  All of the flats had the same layout—short hallway leading straight to a living room. Leading off from that hallway was a small kitchen. From the living room there were doors to a bathroom and either one bedroom, or two—depending on the flat’s size.

  Something whizzed by my head as I stepped out of the flat we’d just checked. The dagger stuck into the door mere inches away from my face.

  “What the hell was that?” Nay asked from behind me.

  “You think you’re so clever,” Purple said, standing in the doorway of the flat opposite. There was a gate across the entrance, sealed with a padlock and chain. In her hand was another dagger.

  “Not really,” I said. I could see the shadow behind her in the living room, hear its whispers. My senses tingled. “Impressive that you can throw through those bars.”

  “You won’t get in here,” she said icily.

  There were amber ribbons of light all around her feet. I couldn’t help the smile that crept up on my lips. For all her bravado, she was scared of me.

  “How’s that one in there doing since the terrible loss of its twin?” I asked.

  Purple threw the dagger. It caught me in the arm I’d been bitten on, sticking me good. The air turned blue as I pulled it out. Nay poured white stuff over my wound—out of instinct I guess. The stab wound hurt, but it hadn’t been enough to do any real damage. Sure as, the healing power came and put a stop to it.

  Purple watched it all play out.

  “Bit of a waste of a dagger, wasn’t it?” I said. “You need to work on your aim.”

  “It was,” she said. “I should’ve saved it to cut out your tongue.”

  “Charming.”

  “Babe?” Nay whispered into my ear. “Close this door when I say. Don’t say anything, just do it.”

  I didn’t say anything.

  A vial rolled out from between my legs across the hall and over to Purple. The beast bitch stared down at it, dumbfounded. But only for a moment. Her eyes went wide and she slammed the door, screaming as she did.

  “Close it!”

  I slammed our door and was dragged back by Nay, falling into the kitchen.

  There was an explosion. The front door came roaring down the short hallway and smashing into the living room, crashing into something glass and landing with a heavy boom.

  “Wow,” I said, getting to my feet and peering into the living room. The glass thing had been a mirror and a television screen.

  “Let’s go, babe!” She charged forward out of the flat. I was right behind her.

  The door and gate of Purple’s flat were gone. The windows of the living room had been shattered by the door and gate that had crashed into the room, now lying haphazardly across the floor. Nay’s exploding potion was the dog’s bollocks, even if some poor sod’s windows has just been completely screwed over.

  The old woman was on her back on a red sofa. She wasn’t breathing. The other shadow was spinning over her, red eyes winking on and off. Was it dazed?

  “You scum!” Purple bellowed, lunging with a kitchen knife.

  Nay delivered a spinning kick, knocking the weapon from her hand. She then punched the bitch right in the jaw.
/>   Purple staggered back and howled. “No!”

  “Yes!” Nay screamed back, punching her again.

  Purple’s head whipped back, and she slid down the wall, sobbing. I was glad to hear it.

  “Boy are you fucked,” Nay said. “Gonna enjoy watching you die.”

  I approached the shadow. It still rotated and did that blinking thing. It hissed weakly, trying to speak. “Y-y …” It couldn’t get beyond that.

  “No!” Purple yelled again.

  “Oh, shut the fuck up!” Nay yelled back. “Time to break your face wide open.”

  The shadow let out an enormous hiss. Nay was at my side in an instant. But there was no change in the shadow.

  “No!” Purple cried.

  “Shit! She’s running off!”

  The shadow hissed.

  “I’m not leaving you,” Nay said. “Let the bitch run.” Though I could tell she really wanted to go and get to the face-breaking.

  But we had a bigger beast to fry.

  Without another thought or kernel of hesitation, I killed the shadow and embraced the euphoric rush of the slaughter.

  It didn’t last as long that time, and I did my best to ignore the horniness. I came down from my high to Nay saying, “The power’s back on.”

  She was at the window of the flat, looking out onto the city. The twinkling lights had returned. My heart tingled with the joy of it.

  I turned to the dead body on the sofa. What did this mean? Was Lilisian somewhere else now, in a new vessel? Or was she trapped in another place, in a broken body like this one?

  Going by Purple’s wailing, had the shadows failed?

  Time would tell, but I had my fingers well and truly crossed that the job had been done in time.

  I fell to my knees. Not weak but mentally done. I’d seen so much death, been so close to it myself, all because of those twins. Luke was dead, Mr. Douglas was horribly burned, and innocent people had been made to act like the walking dead, lambs to the slaughter. The thought of the death toll made me sick.

  “Bloody hell,” I said. I drew in deep breaths. “Give me moment, Nay. I’m gonna need a moment.”

  She sat down next to me and rested her head on my shoulder. “Take as many moments as you need, babe. I’m here.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  The clean-up spell had taken a two-day effort from Nay and Dean, as well as more intensive chanting from the figures under the mansion who sent their magic up into the air along with the technology that worked with it floating in the skies above Coldharbour.

  The deaths had to be honored, not hidden, for the spell to be effective. So an awful road accident—a pile up on the main A road leading out of Coldharbour—was blamed for the loss of life. This accident occurred when a driver lost control of his lorry on a busy road full of people heading out of the city or doing their Christmas shopping. Of course, there was no way out of the city, but it was the best solution to go with the spell. And the people of the city believed it, their minds full of manipulation. The magic was designed to soothe, but that time grief had to play a part. Any other reason for the mass deaths would let fear creep in and bring chaos with it. The lie had to always reign.

  The goblins had banded together to fix up the broken buildings with their weaving magic. Come Christmas Eve, the city was back to its usual self, covered in snow.

  It had gone eleven when I’d fallen asleep on the night before Christmas. Yeah, I didn’t want to deal with it. The mansion was free of all festive decoration aside from a tree in the recreation room that Nay had insisted we put up—decorated in blue and silver. Mr. Douglas was still in recovery, but doing better every day. That was all the Christmas present I needed.

  So, I was sitting in the alcove high up in the cliff, chatting to the flower that still hadn’t bloomed. Damn. I was hoping for some answers.

  “You are close,” the goddess said. “Very close now.”

  Yes, well. All in good time, I guess. “Any news on Lilisian?” Floyd had none, the werewolves hadn’t seen anything. There was no confirmation either way on what had happened to her.

  “I do not see,” she said.

  “Okay.” I sat and listened to the storm behind me, safe in this little nest of rocks. It was becoming a homely place, somewhere I quite liked ending up in. Good job, really, seeing as it was completely random as to when I’d be made to stop by.

  “I’ve got a question,” I said. “How do you manage to still be the goddess of the witches? Doesn’t the use of magic zap your mojo?”

  “Magic flows as always, Jake,” she said. “That will never die—my enduring gift.”

  “So, you don’t need to be present for that stuff, then?”

  “My magical children look after that part of the garden, while I have to look after the ground beneath their feet. Think of it as a river that never stops flowing.”

  “Nice.” I was making small talk, though it was something that had genuinely been on my mind. It was better than thinking about other stuff that hurt. I just wanted to be.

  “You can be, Jake. You’ve earned it.”

  “I’m not sure how I feel about you answering my thoughts,” I said.

  “We are as one.”

  “Yeah …”

  The goddess said nothing more and neither did I. That was fine by me. I was done talking. All I wanted were the sounds of the storm and the roaring sea. I turned to watch the lightning ignite the dark skies, emptying my mind of all thought and marveling in the power of nature.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  It was three in the morning when I woke up.

  Christmasbloodyday.

  Great. My favorite.

  I pulled on a dressing gown and headed downstairs. There was no way I’d fall back to sleep. I knew my body. So, tea it would be.

  The mansion was so still. It was a perfect time for Santa to come creeping down the hallways with his bulging sack. I’d probably head-butt the bloke if I encountered him.

  I made my drink and went to sit in the recreation room. Darkness and silence with a cuppa would be perfect.

  I wasn’t given a reprieve from my thoughts though. I had my late husband on the brain. I’d held everything back, trying not to think about that kiss the false Michael had planted on me or how much I’d really wanted him to be the real deal.

  Michael had fallen out of love with me. I had to face that, to come to terms with the fact that his love had turned to hate. I’d done that to him, driven him away. How I was supposed to deal with that was beyond me. I still loved him, still wanted him and was bound to him. But whatever thread had held us together was long broken, a weak piece of string flapping in the wind. I just couldn’t let go and have that wind take it all.

  “Wherever you are, be at peace,” I said. Maybe one day I would be too.

  Saying those words made me feel like shit, because I truly didn’t want to let him go. Tenacity was another one of my weaknesses.

  “Jake?”

  It was Dean. I turned to see him standing in the doorway.

  “What you doing up?” he asked.

  “It’s Christmas,” I said.

  He chuckled lightly. “So it is. Mind if I join you?”

  “Go for it.”

  He sat down beside me, also wearing a dressing gown and holding a cup of tea.

  “So, why are you up?”

  “Like you said,” he replied.

  I nodded, sipping my tea.

  “Always hated this time of year. Such bullshit.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Do like the tree though,” he said.

  “Nay’s got a gift,” I said.

  Dean put his cup down on the coffee table and went over to the tree. He switched it on, the blue and white lights emitted a gentle glow across the room.

  He sat back down. “There, now I can see you.”

  “Has he been?”

  “He has actually.”

  “What?” I leaned forward to see. There were presents under the tree.
“Nay.”

  He smiled and sipped his drink. “Was that Michael you were talking to just then?”

  I sighed. “You heard?”

  “By accident. Sorry.”

  “No worries.”

  “This time of year must be even shitter than normal for you.”

  “The worst kind of reminder of him being gone,” I said. “Funny thing about all this shadow business is that Michael’s the biggest shadow of all. I can’t get out of it. I loved him so much, even if his love for me died before he did.” And here came the tears. “I’ll never be free. I don’t want to free.” I wiped at my eyes. “I’m a bad person to want freedom. He was my husband.”

  “Who cheated on you,” Dean said. “He didn’t … want you.”

  “I know that. But how can I ignore my heart?”

  “You can’t ignore it.” He moved closer. “But you can’t be a slave to it either.”

  “After this, I actually think I hate him. Oh, God! Listen to me! I’m the worst person in the world.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  “He was murdered, Dean. And here I am saying how much I hate him.”

  “You’re not a bad person, Jake. You’re a person in mourning who has been through some really heavy shit.”

  I lowered my head. “That’s nice of you. I guess I need more time to get my head around the fact that he’s gone, and he didn’t love me.” I blew out a breath. “Man, I’ve had just over a year. You’d think … I don’t know.”

  “There’s no time limit on grief.”

  He was close, so very close. His body heat bathed me, his thigh on my thigh. His dressing gown had fallen open, revealing his abs and his lean chest, and black boxer shorts. Was that a … hard on? My own was straining against my pajama bottoms. I swallowed. “That’s true.”

  “I wish there was something I could do to make it better.”

  I lifted my head and turned to look at him. His lips were dangerously close. “I’ll be fine,” I whispered. “Just thanks for listening to me go on. Bet you didn’t think you’d have to factor in counselling with the guardian job, eh?”