What Screams May Come

by H. P. Mallory

  “I was dreadful, I meant,” he added, possibly realizing how I’d take it. “I have never had any flair for domestic aptitude.”

  “Just put it in the bowl,” I said, more harshly than I intended to.

  He looked at me, nodded, and emptied the spoon.

  Tracking spells are pretty easy because they don’t require very much: just a fetish and a magical opposite’s distilled saliva, blood or any other fluid strong enough to separate the ectoplasm from the physical being. In this case, dryadic sap was the catalyst to begin dissolving the actual feather, while leaving all the other parts intact. Might have been ectoplasm, or it might have been smoke, but that didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was the color it turned when you asked the Universe the right question, i.e., by doing some good, old-fashioned chanting.

  So I did. Bram didn’t seem especially perturbed, but Casey couldn’t stop staring at me. Not that I blamed him, since there was a good chance my eyes rolled completely white. Not to mention, I was speaking an ancient language. Hollywood movies have chronically portrayed the pagan arts in a bad light, but sometimes it is a little spooky.

  The feather dissolved, leaving behind a slightly green-grey goop. I waved my hand over it and said an old Sanskrit word for sibling. I wanted to keep it undefined in order to include all the species siblings or siblings of motivation, just in case it wasn’t an abomination. Then the color started to change.

  “Okay,” I said, watching the colors shift. Orange, then blue, before settling into a rotting grey. “It’s… it’s definitely an abomination.” That was good and bad: good because I could track it that much easier; and bad because the dead abomination outside was telling the truth. Not a happy statement to hear. “Meg is coming for you” it said before it died, making it all the more ominous.

  “This one should be similar enough to the other one that we recognize it,” I continued.

  “So we should look for another werewolf-manticore something-or-other?” Casey asked.

  “I guess so,” I answered.

  “Where should we look for it?” asked Casey.

  I popped the cork off a small bottle of clear liquid, a pre-mixed tracking potion. I always keep at least a few of them on hand. And that was just about all I did in my downtime anymore. “Let’s find out.”

  I poured out the potion and the smoke rose and twisted as a silhouette slowly formed inside it.

  “Um,” I said, staring into the smoke. “Close. It’s really close. And it’s moving.” The silhouette leapt, fell, hit the ground and started running. I saw houses, streets and cars forming around it, and then it smashed and slaughtered them with trenchant claws of solid steel. “Looks like it’s heading for Knight’s house,” I said, when I recognized the familiar shapes of the buildings. Knight was the only one of us who lived in that area. “Or at least it’s nearby his area. It could also be nothing.”

  “That makes sense,” said Bram. “The first one came here and the second was dispatched to Vander’s.”

  “Sam?” said Casey.

  “Already on it,” I said, my phone in my hand as I waited for it to start ringing. There was a long, thin, whining sound and Knight’s voicemail played.

  “Shit,” I said before trying again. Same thing.

  “What?” Casey asked.

  “It goes straight to voicemail,” I said. “Every time.”

  We shared a moment of tense quiet.

  “Okay, so either his phone is dead,” said Casey.

  “Or he is,” Bram finished in a tone that lacked any remorse.

  I shot him a look. “Thank you, Captain Optimist, we really appreciate your rosy input.”

  “See what’s up,” said Casey, jutting his chin towards the door.

  “Me?” asked Bram, his expression falling flat.

  “Yes, you,” said Casey.

  “Vander can take care of himself.”

  Casey glowered at him. “I just got skewered by an angry, flying monster, so unless you want to send Sam or Dulcie to track it…”

  “Fine,” said Bram with a frown. He clearly was not stoked at the idea of spending his evening saving Knight. Looking sideways at Dulcie, who was still on the phone with the captain, Bram’s expression gradually went from irritated to resigned. He sighed as he looked at me and said, “Remind me where Vander lives.”

  I gave him the address. “You should probably go alone, without Dulcie,” I said quietly.

  “Such was my plan,” Bram replied. “I know very little of what transpired between them, but I was not wrong in believing it must have been most unpleasant.”

  “Most unpleasant doesn’t even begin to cover it,” I started to reply but I figured the less Bram knew, the better.

  Bram nodded thoughtfully and I waited for him to ask for more details—details I had no intention of giving him. He was silent for a while, and when he spoke again, it was only to say goodbye.

  “I will return once Vander is safe,” he said. The words sounded wrong coming from his mouth. He even made a face like he’d just eaten something sour as he shook his head.

  “Bring him back with you,” I said but then realized maybe that wasn’t a good idea as I glanced over at Dulcie. But we needed Knight to be in on this. We needed his protection and he needed ours. “We should all be together.”

  “Vander can take care of himself! I am sure there is more than one safe place left in Southern California,” Bram spat with visible repulsion. “And I hardly think keeping all the victims on Meg’s to-do list in one place will earn us any favors. Call someone else you know if you don’t want to leave him alone. Dia, perhaps, the head of the ANC in Moon. Or was she from Estuary? You know so many people in law enforcement, it’s hard to keep track.”

  Not a bad idea. And again—Knight and Dulcie probably shouldn’t have been together in the same room right now. “I’ll call her,” I said. “Just get going.”

  Bram nodded. A cold wind blew and a black blur appeared before he was gone.

  “I still don’t like him,” said Casey.

  I snorted. “Yeah? None of us do.”

  “Why do you keep him around, then?”

  “We don’t keep him around, he just shows up periodically and it’s usually difficult to make him go away. Besides, sometimes he’s useful.”

  “Only sometimes?”

  “Yeah. He kind of helped us with Melchior, and he saved Dulcie’s life a few times, but he’s the reason she needed saving in the first place, so…” I shrugged. “He tries to balance out his bad deeds with some good ones.”

  Casey cast a furtive glance at Dulcie and raised his eyebrows at me. “Are they…?” he whispered.

  “Are they what?”

  “Together?”

  “No, why?”

  “He keeps staring at her.”

  “Yeah, I noticed that too.” I looked at Dulcie, who didn’t hear us. “No. They have a long history, but it isn’t a good one.”

  I opened my phone and scrolled through my contacts. My thumb hovered over Dia’s name and I bit my lip. She was as busy as any of us, spending most of her time traipsing through the dreams of the monsters we managed to catch in the immediate aftermath of D.C. It was an appealing alternative to enhanced interrogation. Even if she weren’t busy right this second, babysitting Knight to make me feel better was hardly a better use of her time, especially if they suddenly needed her somewhere else. And that’s if Knight agreed to being babysat in the first place, which I seriously doubted.

  “What’s the matter?” said Casey.

  “Dia’s still doing that dreamwalking stuff for your mom, right?”

  “Right,” he said.

  “So she’s already pretty busy.”

  “More than likely.”

  “I’ll call someone else.” I scrolled down through my contacts; down, down, down, down, I went, all the way to the very bottom.

  “Huh,” I said, looking at the name.

  Quillan.

  It had been quite a while since
I’d last seen him. He’d volunteered to join the potions branch of the Preternatural Division, partly to avoid jail time, and partly to personally atone for his former bad behavior.

  He was currently helping human officers identify different types of potions and their side effects, cautioning how to avoid ingesting airborne narcotics. Meg had yet to concoct Jax’s threat, but that hellishly addictive drug with no side effects was still out there somewhere. Quill’s job was important, yes, but less urgent than the others. And it might have been good to have a new face around… He’d been out of touch with the friend circle for a long while, so he’d naturally be the last person to know what had happened between Dulcie and Knight.

  Besides, I missed him. He was a good boss.

  “Did you ever meet Quillan?” I asked Casey.

  He shook his head. “No. But I heard some decent things about him. Why?”

  “I’m gonna call him instead.”

  “Cool. I’m gonna sit here and try not to bleed to death.”

  “Have fun with that,” I said as I dialed.

  He picked up almost immediately. “This is Quillan.”

  “Hey, it’s Sam,” I started.

  “Oh.” He sounded pleasantly surprised. “Hi! What’s up? How are you?”

  “Are you free right now? I need a favor.”

  “Of course, anything,” he said. I smiled. Always so eager to help. I wondered how much of that was an effort to simply redeem himself. “What do you need?”

  “Where are you?”

  “Still in Splendor,” he said. “Temporary FBI office on Fifteenth and Elm. Why, where are you?”

  “At my house, but I want you to go to Knight’s. Do you remember where he lives?”

  “Yeah, vaguely. Why, what happened?”

  “Meg’s still alive.”

  “Oh. Oh.”

  “Yeah. Something attacked Casey and me at my house and another very similar something is at Knight’s right now. Bram went to check it out, but if Knight isn’t dead or dying, Bram will probably take off, and I don’t want to leave Knight alone. Everybody else is either busy or just straight up not in the state.” I stopped and cringed at myself. “This sounds really stupid.”

  “No, you’re worried about your friend,” said Quillan. “That’s never stupid. I’m on my way, okay? Don’t worry anymore.”

  “Okay. Thank you, Quillan.” I hung up and sighed. “He’s on his way,” I said.

  “Good,” said Casey. “That’s very good.” Then, in a quieter voice, he added, “How’s she doing?” Then he motioned to Dulcie.

  I shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

  Across the room, Dulcie ended her own call and sighed heavily before collapsing onto the couch. “Fucking fuck, guys.”

  “Yeah,” said Casey, looking at me. “No kidding.”

  “Is someone coming?” I asked.

  “They are,” said Dulcie. “Everyone and their grandmother from the Preternatural Division and the FBI and a couple people from the CIA.” She put her hands over her face and groaned loudly. “This is gonna be such a disaster.”

  It’s already a disaster, I thought, but I knew what she meant. This was more than just a monster on the run. It was another item on the mountain of grievances that would soon become the why-do-we-still-trust-Dulcie? list. People were dead, and that mattered a lot, but it felt less like a tragedy and more like another nail in a coffin that seemed to be made exclusively of nails.

  I didn’t want to tell her Knight was missing.

  “I’m not the only one starting to go numb, right?”

  Casey and Dulcie looked up. I took a moment to realize the words were mine. “Oh,” I said. “I meant…” Nope, no way to back pedal on that one. Casey pressed his lips together, his expression melting into something grim and cold. He did his best to smile.

  “No,” said Dulcie. “You’re not.”

  I nodded. It was quiet for a long time.

  When my phone rang, I nearly jumped out of my skin. I looked at the name on the screen.

  “Bram,” I said as I answered. “What the—”

  “He is not here.”

  I went ice cold all over. “He… What do you mean he isn’t there?”

  “Who?” Dulcie asked.

  Casey glanced at me hesitatingly as Dulcie repeated her question. Then he looked back at her and answered.

  “Knight. He’s missing. Bram is over there right now trying to find him.”

  “Fuck,” said Dulcie as I looked up. Casey and Dulcie were paper-white.

  “I mean he is not here, Samantha,” Bram said. “I have looked in every room of this meager abode and cannot find hide nor hair of him.” He paused. “His smell is also old. He has not been here for several hours at least. And his motorcycle is gone. Perhaps he is in an office somewhere?”

  I looked at Casey and asked, “Where would Knight be if he isn’t at home?”

  Casey frowned. “Headquarters, maybe, but not this late. I’ll call and ask, though.”

  Shit, shit, shit, I thought. Dulcie was standing stone-still, staring at me, waiting to hear more.

  “The beast was here, though,” Bram continued, his voice echoing through my phone. “The door was broken down, and everything in the house has been torn to ribbons. Vander apparently had feathers in his bed.” He sounded snarky.

  “Don’t knock it ‘til you try it,” I muttered, watching Casey make his call to Headquarters.

  “He’s fine,” Dulcie said, but more to herself than to either of us. “He’s fine.”

  “I’m sure he is,” said Casey, placing a hand gently on her arm. She didn’t notice.

  “Fuck,” she muttered. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.” Despite her cursing, her panic continued to grow.

  “Hey, it’s gonna be all right,” Casey said. “At least he’s not where the abominations are. Remember that, okay?”

  Dulcie nodded wordlessly.

  “Oh, dear,” said Bram.

  I went cold all over. “What?”

  “It appears I am not alone.”

  “Wait, hang on, that might be Quillan,” I said.

  I hoped it was Quillan… or Knight.

  Bram paused. “Quillan,” he repeated half as a question and half as an accusation.

  “Bram, you told me to call someone so Knight wouldn’t be left alone,” I explained after the obvious annoyance I detected in Bram’s tone.

  Bram mumbled something I couldn’t make out and sighed. He pulled the phone back from his mouth and called out, “Quillan?”

  “Yes, here,” Quillan said.

  “It is Quillan,” Bram said, sounding aggravated.

  “Never would have guessed,” I answered blandly. “Play nice, okay? He’s only there to help.”

  “Isn’t he always?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing at all,” said Bram, but the bitterness in his tone suggested it definitely meant something. “Stay on the line, I will tell you what I see.”

  “What both of you see.”

  I heard the rumbling of a not-quite-suppressed groan. “As you wish. Here.” There was a rustle and then Bram’s voice sounded a little more granular. “You are on speakerphone, Samantha.”

  “Hi, Quillan,” I said.

  “Hi, Sam,” he answered.

  Casey put his phone down and looked at me. “Sam, Knight isn’t at Headquarters either. There are people out looking for him now, but no one’s heard from him today.”

  “That isn’t like him,” Dulcie said in a soft and very scared voice. “Something must have happened to him.”

  “We don’t know that,” I answered her, maybe a little too sharply. “We don’t know that,” I said again, but this time, it was softer.

  We could have ventured a pretty good guess…

  Fuck, fuck, fuck. “Okay, um… maybe…” I started before I lost my train of thought. Where else could he possibly have gone? Knight got a lot of flak for ducking out of the ANC t
o rescue Dulcie without notifying anyone in Casey’s division. Riding off into the sunset with no explanation or warning was an exceptionally stupid thing to do.

  He’s done dumber things for dumber reasons, I thought.

  “Sam, there’s something here,” Quillan spoke loudly.

  “Samantha is on speakerphone, you do not have to shout,” Bram said, audibly grinding his teeth. “And might I remind you that you are standing just beside my ear!”

  “Sorry,” Quill started but was interrupted by Bram.

  “And might I continue to remind you that vampires have exceptional hearing!”

  “Bram, shut up!” I yelled at the phone. “What, Quillan? What is it? What do you see?”

  “Um,” Quill started.

  “It is an abomination,” said Bram in a disinterested tone. “Dead. Just one moment.” After some shuffling and a godawful sucking sound, he added, “There.”

  “Gross,” said Quillan.

  I could practically hear Bram scowling. “Hmm. How peculiar.”

  “What?” I asked. “You can’t just say that and go quiet, Bram!”

  “What are they talking about?” Dulcie asked, her eyes widening. I shook my head to let her know I wasn’t sure. Her improved hearing explained how she could eavesdrop on my phone conversation from across the room.

  “My apologies. The heart of the beast is not disintegrating as it did before,” said Bram. “And it—”

  “There’s something in its mouth!” Quillan said.

  “Why in Hades name are you looking inside its mouth?” Bram asked.

  “It looks like… smoke, I think. Or mist.” Quillan paused. “It’s… twitching.”

  “Oh, dear God,” Bram muttered. Then, to me he said, “Can you bring some witchy trinkets and come have a look at this?”

  Some witchy trinkets? I didn’t bother asking what the hell he was talking about. “Um, sure, I’ll be right down. Will you keep her company until everyone gets here?” I asked Casey while gesturing to Dulcie. “Quillan and Bram found something that they want me to look at.”

  “What did they find?”

  “I don’t need any company,” Dulcie protested with a frown. “I’m okay.”

  “I know you are, Dulce, but Casey’s in no shape to leave here and you’re waiting for the FBI so can you both just wait together?”