Murmurs rippled through the crowd behind Lushiku. Creatures from across the room rose, drawing closer to see.
Gideon crossed his arms. “This is highly improper, an obstruction of procedure, and I’ll have you know—”
With a low, menacing growl, Lushiku leaned forward and said, “Test the ticket. Or explain why your contingent has blocked human admission to the Compact for decades.”
I recoiled as a worm-like creature with tentacles wriggled up to us and arched like a king cobra. Smaller tentacles around the mouth squirmed in our direction as it leaned forward to chirp at Gideon.
The skeleton scowled as much as a fleshless creature can and snapped at the wormlike creature. “That’s not true. The nightmare council has never prevented humans from attending.”
“Bullshit,” a delicate voice said with a European accent I couldn’t identify. “The nightmare council didn’t even attempt contact prior to the Compact, as outlined in the bylaws.”
Gideon stared at the female speaker behind me but didn’t retort.
“Milagros is ready.” Lushiku gestured to the wormlike creature and its extended tentacle. “Test the ticket.”
“You endanger the spirit of diplomacy,” Gideon stammered, his bones grinding the coin.
“Test the ticket,” said a humanoid female at the table nearest us.
“Test the ticket,” echoed a winged, androgynous creature who hovered over us.
Other voices repeated the phrase until it became a chant. The vampires’ grips loosened on my arms as they murmured to each other, unsure what to do.
As the crowd grew closer, Gideon looked from one creature to the next before reluctantly handing the coin to Milagros, the worm-like creature. “It’s a forgery, you’ll see. Humans haven’t attended our Compact in decades. Her ticket is fake.”
“Which is the problem,” Lushiku said as the worm-like creature flipped the coin into its mouth. “Humans have as much right to attend as any other being, yet you and your boss omitted them from the proceedings. Did you think we hadn’t noticed?”
“When do I get a say?”
The vampires remembered their purpose and jerked me back, the dark-haired one clamping a hand over my mouth. “Shut up,” he said. “Until we know you’re supposed to be here, you say nothing.”
I tried biting his fingers, but he squeezed my face and crushed my lips against my teeth.
Between the shoulders and heads of the crowd, I saw him. The frat boy-man, Gyleeto, his hair still shabby-chic though he wore a tuxedo. When he saw me, his eyes widened. With a panicked glance around, he disappeared behind other creatures.
I struggled to free myself from the vampires as Lushiku argued with Gideon.
“—exposing the human population to predators and poachers will only unbalance the realm. You cannot expect to advance your agenda without repercussions.”
I grunted and struggled, only fractionally moving the guards who gripped me.
The wormlike creature ejected the coin onto a waiting tentacle and offered it to Lushiku. “The ticket is legitimate and not a forgery,” Milagros said in a shockingly human and delicately accented voice. “It is issued to Caitlin Kelley, hunter of monsters, designated representatives of mundane humans.”
I had never heard of anything like this creature and wondered if Sister Betty had. Fear about her condition surged, but I pushed it away. To get out of this, I had to focus. Maybe I could find a solution for saving her here.
They all looked at me.
“Hunter,” Lushiku, prompted. “What is your name?”
I twisted to look at the vampire with his hand over my mouth. Though close to my height and eerily slender, his preternatural strength made up for any advantage I might have exploited. His dark eyebrows rose, as if in question.
I rolled my eyes, waiting for him to release me.
“You’re no fun, intruder,” he murmured. “Let me into your mind, and we’ll have fun.”
I tried to bite him again, though his hand on my mouth made it impossible.
“This is the first time a human has ever tried to eat me. You know,” he laughed, “I could give you fangs of your own if you really want to play vampire.”
“Lafayette,” Lushiku said, exasperated. “Release the hunter and allow her to answer.”
“You’re no fun either, monkey.” Lafayette removed his hand.
“I’m going to kick your—”
“Answer the question, Hunter.” Lushiku interrupted my threat.
“Yes.” I ignored the saliva smeared around my mouth. “I’m Caitlin Kelley, a monster hunter for the Holy Roman Catholic Church.”
Distrust radiated from the monsters nearest me, their eyes not leaving me, even as they murmured to each other.
“But I have never been a, what was it? Representative of humans?”
My admission prompted another ripple of conversation and gasps through the assembly.
“The ticket’s a forgery,” exclaimed Gideon, his skeletal grin triumphant. “Remove her.”
“She may not see herself as a representative,” said a gray-faced man in elegant, but tattered clothing, “but perhaps she was so designated without her knowledge.”
“Where did you get this?” Lushiku plucked the coin from the tentacle Milagros offered.
“Before I ended up here, it wasn’t a coin. It was a copper-wrapped stone, and when I passed through the mirror in my hotel—”
“Which hotel?”
“Who gave you the stone?”
“—it became a purse and the coin was inside.”
More overlapping voices, but I caught words like “collectors,” “amulet,” and “carousel.”
Lushiku gestured for silence, then nodded at the vampires. “Release her.”
“But the list—” Gideon interrupted, shaking his head.
The vampires did not move.
“Bring the list,” commanded Lushiku, anger compressing his face and baring his fangs. He rose to his full height, arms lifted in a regal gesture.
Voices repeated the call across the ballroom, the sound swelling until the crowd parted in silence to reveal a familiar form bearing a clipboard.
15
Frat boy-man, Gyleeto, hurried, though his steps still seemed hesitant. He glanced from me to Lushiku, clutching the clipboard like armor.
“You,” was all I could say.
His mincing steps veered toward Lushiku, offering him the clipboard.
“Thank you.” Lushiku glanced at me. “Do you know him?”
“He’s the one causing trouble. The one I’ve been chasing. He touches people, their worst nightmares manifest, cause havoc, and then the humans die, their souls destroyed by some kind of mystical infection.”
“I can’t help it.” Gyleeto cowered at Lushiku’s elbow.
I jerked against the restraining hands of the vampires. “You speak English? Then you knew what we were saying!”
The frat boy man cringed. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry isn’t good enough.” I lunged forward so hard the vampires moved to catch their balance. “My partner’s to going to die because you touched her.”
“Miss Kelley,” Gideon said.
“No.” I struggled against the imprisoning hands. “Let me go, damnit.”
“Miss Kelley is on the list,” Lushiku announced, pointing to the clipboard.
“What?” Gideon stepped to the gorilla’s side to look at the list. “No, that says ‘human delegate.’ That could be anyone.”
“Exactly,” said Lushiku. “She’s human and has a ticket in her name. She’s the defacto delegate.” He looked at the vampires, flashing his teeth again. “I said release her.”
This time, they complied. I rushed to grab the nightmare, only to be stopped short. Again.
“Now, now, you should know better.” Lafayette crushed me against his chest, arms around me like iron bands. “Like you said, you touch him, you die. This is for your own protection. Besides,” he leaned in and sniff
ed deeply, “you smell fantastic.”
Replying with colorful invectives made one old-fashioned looking creature at a nearby table stare at me with horror. I didn’t care.
Lafayette laughed, unmoving as I squirmed.
“Let me go,” I demanded through clenched teeth.
“I rather enjoy this, actually,” Lafayette said, pulling me against him. “It’s a little like holding a fish, if I remember my human days accurately.”
“I’ll remind you what gutting a fish looks like as soon as you let me go.”
“Enough,” said Lushiku. “Lafayette’s right to protect you, Miss Kelley, though his methods are…objectionable.” The gorilla stared at the vampire, raising half of his imposing brow. “But, if you’ve sufficiently regained control, he will release you.”
“I’m in control, but he,” I pointed at the elusive nightmare, “will not get away again. I’ve been chasing him all over this goddamned city, and I will get my answers.”
Lushiku put one heavy hand on the nightmare’s shoulders. “You will get your answers. Will you agree to a truce if we guarantee this?”
Answers within reach, I relaxed as much as Lafayette would allow. “Yes,” I said.
With Lushiku’s gesture, Lafayette dropped me to my feet.
“Miss Kelley, please take your place at the table, and we’ll continue. Gideon,” Lushiku continued, “I believe we can call a brief recess so Miss Kelley can get her bearings.”
“We have a tight schedule,” the skeleton said.
“There’s contingency time built in,” Lushiku insisted, a thinly veiled warning in his tone. “I entreat the hosting council to spend some in honor of our new arrival. And,” he leaned forward, his knuckles pressing against the ground as if preparing to attack the walking pile of bones, “I do not anticipate denial of such a reasonable request.”
If Gideon had lips, the uptight skeleton would have pursed them. Instead, he answered with a curt nod, pivoted on one heel, and walked to a podium several feet away.
Though the vampires didn’t touch me again, they guided me to a table near the podium where humanoid servants prepared a place for me with a beautiful table setting. I sat, allowing one of the creatures to push in my chair for me.
Gyleeto stood off to one side, clutching his clipboard. As I took my seat, he tried to escape, but Lushiku stepped in front of him, personally pulling out a seat for the nightmare. The jittery creature evaluated his options, then sat out of my arm’s reach.
Lushiku nodded, satisfied, and gestured to the seated nightmare. “As a show of good faith, Miss Kelley, we will join your table for the rest of the event.”
The nightmare looked up, alarmed, lips trembling with protest. “But I have duties—”
“I will take responsibility,” Lushiku interrupted. “I’m sure Zikros will understand.”
The nightmare bowed his head and sat still, as if hoping to go unnoticed until dismissed.
Gideon stood behind the podium, his bony hand over the microphone as he conferred with another skeleton.
“Why’d you do it?” I asked the nightmare. “Why’d you hurt people?”
He winced, watching me out of the corner of his eye. “I’m sorry,” he muttered.
“That’s not what I asked.” I leaned closer, and he retreated, but didn’t leave the chair. “Why’d you do it? Why’d you touch those people? You killed the man in the airport. Riley’s dying in the hospital. My friend’s going to die because of you. Why’d you do it?”
The nightmare cowered, a tear glinting on his cheek. “I was hungry,” he said, miserable.
“What?”
“Gentle creatures,” Gideon tapped the microphone for attention, “our apologies for the interruption. We’ll be getting back on track in a few minutes.”
“What did you say?” I pressed.
Gyleeto looked up at me, his eyes shining with unshed tears. “I said I was hungry.”
“You feed on people?”
“No,” he said, “but it doesn’t matter. I’ll be destroyed for this.”
“Why destroyed?”
“As an example,” he snorted. “For causing an inter-dimensional incident.”
“What is the meaning of this?”
I turned toward the source of the imperious voice. A red-skinned, horned creature wearing a tuxedo stormed into the room. Apart from the stylish, well-fitted suit, tailored black shirt, and satin bow tie, he looked like a demon stereotype.
Gyleeto slunk down in his seat, muttering, and I realized who the creature must be. The head of the nightmare council. “Your boss?” I asked.
The trembling nightmare nodded, hiding his eyes behind his hand.
“Master Zikros, so glad you were able rejoin us,” Lushiku said, rising from his seat. “Allow me to introduce—”
Zikros scowled at him and sneered at me. “I’m not wasting my time meeting some human. What I care about is that you’ve circumvented my direct orders to my staff.” The heated glare he leveled at Gyleeto made me as uncomfortable as the cringing nightmare.
Lushiku straightened, his words crisp, his tone sharpening. “I assure you, your associate’s in service of the Compact.”
“We’re hosting the Compact. That’s service enough.” Zikros snapped his fingers. Gyleeto sprang to his feet, nearly toppling the chair to scurry behind the demon creature. “Over-reaching self-importance like this is why movements like ours gain momentum across all dimensions. You are nothing yet assume yourself of greater standing than you deserve. No creature from the earthly plane can stand up for itself—even against creatures from their own realm.” Zikros towered over Lushiku, sneering. “A worthless plane of livestock with delusions of grandeur.”
“Each dimension serves a purpose, and none can exist without the others. Even your dimension cannot exist on its own.”
“No,” Zikros said, grinning, “but it would thrive without the restrictions imposed on it by this Compact. My people are condemned to starve while this lot,” he gestured at me, “overburden their planet and endanger not only themselves, but every other realm. If humans were the superior beings they believe themselves to be, maybe they should start keeping their numbers manageable and lifestyles sustainable. Maybe then we, the more responsible realms, wouldn’t be forced to seek alternative measures of control.”
Hesitant applause started in the back of the room, paused, and resumed, gaining support before rising conversation drowned it out.
“This is not the time to debate your agenda,” Lushiku said calmly.
“Of course it is,” Zikros said. “Because even the presence of this human and her essence is unnecessary torture for all of my kind.” His nostrils flared as if to prove the point. “There’s a reason they weren’t invited and that you’ve chosen to undermine the choices of the host council is a personal insult.”
“She was invited, Master Zikros,” Gideon said.
I hadn’t heard him approach, but the skeleton stood behind Lushiku, wringing his bony hands and almost bowing.
“What. Did. You. Say?”
Even I shivered.
“She’s on the list,” Gideon whispered. “She has a ticket.”
Zikros turned his burning eyes on me. “Let me see it.”
“Nice to meet you, too. My name’s Caitlin Kelley.” I leaned back in the chair. “I assume from the conversation you’ve had around me that yours is Zikros, so that’s what I’ll call you.”
The crunch of his grinding teeth broke the silence with chilling dissonance.
Maybe someday I’d recognize those line-crossing moments before they happened.
“I don’t give a damn what your name is. Show me your ticket.”
“Hospitality, much?” I reached for my purse. “Haven’t traveled beyond my plane before, but I bet this’ll be my least favorite.” A second later, I popped the clasp and tossed him the coin.
He inspected it, his sneer deepening into a disgusted frown. The roaring, inarticulate sound he made didn’t
make much sense, but it made the elegantly dressed creatures around me cringe and cover listening orifices.
Gyleeto came at a run, clipboard in hand. Zikros snatched it and compared the text on the coin to the list. Then, turned on me. “Where did you get this? Who put you up to this?”
Lushiku inserted himself between us. “Master Zikros, I must insist—”
“I am head of the hosting council, and I dictate how this goes. Sit down and shut up, monkey.”
In a terrifying sneer, Lushiku bared his fangs and growled.
“Boys, boys, put them away.” An elegant, soothing, yet amused voice joined the chaos.
My head ached. All I wanted was a nap, and the longer this went on, the more complicated it got. I rubbed my temples and tried to see around the vampires.
The voice belonged to a woman in a stylized, fitted tuxedo. A top hat perched on her wild mane of dark curls, a long, thin cigarette holder balanced between the index and middle finger of her left hand. “There’s no need for a pissing contest in polite company.”
Neither Lushiku nor Zikros moved. Lafayette and George stepped back to flank her.
I stood, offering my hand. “Caitlin Kelley, unwelcome human addition to the Compact.”
She smiled, glanced at my hand without taking it, and smiled. “Be careful who you offer your hand to, Hunter.” With an elegant gesture, she indicated Zikros and his cowering associate, “Especially in mixed company.”
Recognizing the wisdom in her words, I retracted my hand in the least awkward way I could. “Right,” I said. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”
“Because I didn’t give it.” With a turn of her head, she dismissed me and focused on Zikros. “Zeke, you needn’t be such a dick. You’re giving us a bad name.”
He gritted his teeth. “Your indelicacies do not amuse me, succubus. Learn your place.”
She laughed, throwing her head back in delight. The top hat never budged, even when she straightened and dabbed at her eyes with a silken handkerchief. “You say that like I have some subordinate place. It’s cute.” Tucking the handkerchief in her breast pocket and arranging the point artfully, she continued, “Looking like the big guy doesn’t make you the big guy.” She patted his chest and addressed the cowering nightmare. “What did I miss?”
A Touch Too Much Page 12