Venators, page 5
Even stranger, the constant inner itch had all but disappeared, which only added to the ease of what she said next. “All right.”
Grey jolted in surprise. “All right?”
“Yes.” She threw her shoulders back and leveled a defiant stare at him. “Are you coming or what?”
The man’s mouth quirked at the exchange.
Grey nodded dumbly, speechless.
“Excellent,” the man said. “Grey, I trust you have what I left with you last time?”
His lips thinned, tightening at the edges. “It’s been six years.”
Six years? Rune stared at the two, sensing pieces to her biggest mystery. Six years ago was exactly when Ryker had shut her out and when he’d turned on Grey. Six years ago was when Grey had taken up wearing his signature trench coat, which bore an eerie similarity to the coat the man wore. She remembered the day Grey had started wearing it, because the temperature had been over ninety, and she couldn’t believe he’d kept the stupid, ill-fitting thing on all day.
“You have it?” the man repeated.
“Yes.”
“Good. We just need to dispose of these bodies before—” Something scratched at the window. “We’re out of time.” The man grabbed her and Grey by the arms, jerking them into the hall. “More goblins got through. Go!”
“Goblins!” Rune wrenched her arm away from his overly tight grip. “Got through what?” She stayed at his side, jogging to keep up.
The man glanced at her in exasperation. “We’re being hunted. Questions later.”
They were halfway to the stairs when a window broke behind them. The man yanked open the stairwell door, then snarled. Squatty, heavily armed shadows loomed up the walls. He slammed it shut again.
Another window shattered somewhere in the building, and he turned, holding out his hand. “Grey, I need it.”
“You never even told me your name.” Grey fished a black orb from his pocket and handed it over.
“Tate.”
“How do you two know each other?” Rune asked, looking back over her shoulder.
“Pinned in a box and stuck with two untrained Venators,” Tate grumbled to himself. “Both worlds are going to hell in a handbasket.” He threw the ball at the wall. It flashed, and the hard plane evaporated, leaving a doorway that opened to a grassy area and a sidewalk. The edges shimmered, beckoning them forward.
“This is going to hurt a little.” Tate gestured toward the newly made door. “After you.”
More of the creatures spilled out into the hall from Grey’s room just as the stairwell door flew open. The goblin at the front of the line grinned, its lips stretching around two tusks.
Maybe it was the stench that flowed down the hall and twisted its fist in her nostrils. Or maybe it was the sight of an entire host of the ugly beasts. Or maybe it had been the shattering glass, knowing the window could’ve been the one in Ryker’s room. Whatever it was, reality finally hit.
“Wait!” Rune cried, digging her heels in. Ryker was two doors down, completely incapacitated. “We have to get Ryker.”
An ax thudded into the wall inches from Grey’s nose, and his eyes widened to the size of saucers, staring at the gleaming silver blade.
Tate grabbed Grey and threw him through the shimmering doorway. He disappeared immediately.
That was impossible. All of this was impossible. Rune’s mouth went dry, and her spirit shriveled up, screaming. The calm was definitely gone.
The strange doorway was shrinking, and Tate’s enormous hand pressed against Rune’s back. “No!”
And then she was flying into the light.
Grey was being wrenched forward and driven back all at the same time. An inescapable weight crushed his ribs, threatening to break the thin bones and punish the organs beneath. He gaped like a fish, trying to fill lungs that refused to be inflated.
Finally the pressure abated, and he stumbled out onto a dimly lit sidewalk. Leaning over his knees, Grey gasped for breath. But the air was thick with a foreign humidity, and it flowed through his aching chest like water instead of oxygen.
Over the sound of his own gasping, the sound of heavy traffic filled the air, strange and out of place. He slowly looked up, peering through strands of hair. What he saw left him frozen and utterly perplexed.
Rune pitched out of the doorway, taking several quick steps to keep her feet under her. Tate stepped out easily, as if he’d done it a thousand times.
On their left was a historic courthouse. It sat at the top of a tall flight of stairs, looking down like an old magistrate passing judgment on the city.
“Whoa.” Rune stared in wonder. “Where are we?”
“St. Louis.” Grey straightened and pointed to the right, across a busy four-lane street. There, on top of a grassy hill, was a massive, three-sided steel arch that framed a perfectly full moon.
“St. Louis.” Rune still looked like her mind couldn’t wrap itself around what had just happened. “What—?”
“That orb was designed to take us to a gate.” Tate motioned to the arch. “That is one of many doorways to my world.”
“Your world,” Grey repeated. “You mean . . .” He trailed off as he stared at the arch. The implications were enormous.
“I wasn’t able to explain the last time I was here—”
The portal they’d come through faded to nothing and uttered a single sigh before it snicked away.
That broke Rune from her stunned silence.
“No!” She ran, swiping at the last wisps. “No!” She turned one way and then the other, frantically looking for something that didn’t exist. “I have to go back.”
“You can’t. The door is one way,” Tate said. “I’m sorry. It’s too late.”
Rune looked incredulous. “Too late? What . . . but . . . too late for what?”
“For Ryker. I’m sure they already have him.”
There was a moment of stunned silence before the next word burst out in a pain-filled cry. “Why?” Tears pooled in her eyes. “Is he . . . ?”
Tate sighed, and tenderness softened his expression. “No, he’s not dead.” He took her by the shoulders like a father would take a child—gentle, comforting.
Rune shrugged out of his grasp. “Don’t touch me!”
Grey winced, feeling Rune’s rejection as if it had been directed at him. But Tate didn’t seem to notice. His cool, indifferent nature returned like a piece of clothing he could put on at will. “We need to go.”
Rune’s eyes flashed, and she set her heels. “I’m not going another step with you until you tell me what’s going on.”
“Fine.” Tate was distracted, his eyes bouncing off every building, bush, and car near them. “Those creatures work for a woman named Zio. She’s looking for the same thing I was: you.” He jerked his head toward Grey. “And him.”
“Zio?” Grey repeated, if for no other reason than to wrap his tongue around the name of the enemy.
“But you didn’t need Ryker,” Rune said, bitterness making her words sharp. “So you just left him there.”
Tate paused in his perimeter check and evaluated her carefully. “Ryker was never supposed to be part of the equation. It’s unfortunate that—”
“Unfortunate!”
“The stakes are too high. Maybe someday you’ll understand why I couldn’t involve your brother.”
“Well, he’s involved now, isn’t he?” Grey would’ve given almost anything to be free of Ryker, but life once again had seen fit to interweave their fates. He scrubbed his hands over his face. “Where will they take him?”
Tate pointed to the arch. “Our side.”
Fear flickered behind Rune’s eyes as she stared at the imposing steel structure, but then it was gone. She rolled her shoulders and neck, moving from one foot to the other as if psyching herself up for the big game. “OK, then. That’s where we’re going.”
Grey had spent six years coming to terms with the supernatural. Still, the idea that there was another world was difficult for him to comprehend. Rune had had about five minutes and was acting as if everything was normal, including their new blue-skinned friend. “Rune, are you sure? We don’t even know where—”
“I don’t care where it is. I shouldn’t have left Ryker—I never should’ve left him. Now it’s up to me to find him. I’m not going to stand here while my twin brother is—”
A cackle floated over the roar of traffic, and Tate held out a hand for silence. He turned slowly, pulling a sword from his hip in one smooth motion. “They’re here.”
A bush rustled near the base of the steps. One of the immense wooden doors, carved and probably original to the courthouse, inched open.
“It’s a trap,” Tate said under his breath, backing up. “Get to the arch, now. Grey, you’ll need to help Rune if we’re going to survive. I’ve seen you practicing. You can do this.”
“You’ve seen—” Grey stopped himself. Questions later. He grabbed Rune by both arms and swung her around to face him. “Listen to me—you have to trust everything I say.”
She nodded. “I trust you.”
Her immediate trust didn’t discourage the thought trickling through his brain like an infectious disease: We’re dead. So dead.
The double doors to the courthouse swung all the way open, and dozens of the gray goblins poured down the steps.
“Run!” Tate yelled.
Two wolves jumped from the bushes, double the size Grey had ever imagined them to be. Their eyes, nestled above long snouts and ragged fur, flashed back the lights of traffic. Drool slid over their lips.
Their eyes roved hungrily, as if anticipating burying their muzzles in Grey’s gut. Tearing flesh and innards, tasting blood.
Bile crawled up the back of his throat.
Rune screamed—her first real one of the evening.
Behind them was a narrow set of five steps that led down to a large, grassy area separating the old-world building from the modern black pavement of a multilane road.
“Move, now!” Grey took the stairs in one leap. Rune raced down but tripped on the last one and fell forward.
Seeing opportunity, one of the wolves leapt off the upper edge. Grey grabbed under Rune’s arms, pulling her to her feet a moment before the wolf landed. It stretched toward them with open jaws, going for Rune’s ankle.
Just before its mouth snapped shut, a bolt thudded into the wolf’s spine. It yelped. The beast’s teeth scraped against the heel of Rune’s shoe as it fell, flopping flat against the walk, still snarling.
Tate jumped from above, the bottom half of his trench flapping like vulture wings. “You aren’t running,” he yelled, sinking another bolt into the animal’s head.
He landed hard, dropping into a deep crouch and then spinning on the balls of his feet as he stood. He loaded and raised the bow for a shot at the remaining wolf running toward them.
“Rune, I know this is new, but if we don’t move, we’ll die!” Grey grabbed hold of her hand and took off at the fastest sprint he could go without ripping her arm from its socket.
Tall corporate buildings and hotels towered to their right and left, in odd juxtaposition to the old courthouse and the well-manicured grassy expanse that faced the elegant St. Louis Arch.
He dragged her along, dodging flowering bushes that dotted their escape path. “Faster!” he shouted. “You can do more. Let go, and trust me.” Finally, he felt her start to match his speed. “That’s it, just let it happen.”
They were nearing the street. The four lanes of traffic were already thick with cars.
He knew what he had to do but worried about Rune. There was no time to explain. “Don’t think. Just jump!”
Grey pushed off—Rune did the same. Lifting into the air, he held on tightly to her arm. But as he’d feared, Rune didn’t have faith in her abilities yet, and he was jerked painfully back, her weight pulling him down. They slammed onto the hood of a passing car. Grey’s shoulder was wrenched at an odd angle, and he groaned.
A millisecond later, before the driver of the vehicle could react, one of the goblins landed on the roof, its sallow skin looking even sicker in the early light of dawn.
“Hold on!” Grey gripped the lip between the windshield and the hood. Rune understood immediately and twisted, grabbing the edge and burying her head in her shoulder.
The horrified driver slammed on his brakes.
The creature on the roof flew forward and crashed into the trunk of a red Prius.
Grey thought the skin on his fingertips might peel off, but he and Rune managed to stay on the hood. When the vehicle jerked to a stop, he scrambled to get his feet underneath him.
The squeal of brakes sounded everywhere, followed by metallic crunching. Grey looked over his shoulder to see the horrid creatures landing on hoods and roofs, using them like stepping stones to cross the road.
“Jump!” Grey shouted.
Rune gave it more effort this time. They landed on the other side of the road with nothing between them and the arch but the seemingly innocuous grassy hill.
Rune was in awe of her feat. “Did you see—?”
“Yes, run!”
Tate raced toward them with one gray monstrosity clinging to him, hacking at his shoulders with its claws. Tate swung his sword, stabbing the thing in the armpit. He tore it from his back and tossed its lifeless body to the side.
“Come on!”
Rune’s speed was increasing as they ran up the hill, the creatures falling behind. A fleeting hope buzzed through Grey. They could make it. But when they crested the top, the base of the arch came into view. The hill had obscured a deadly problem.
Rune and Grey slid to a stop, clinging to each other to keep upright. The visitors’ area below was innocent enough, crossed with stone paths and dotted with benches. But waiting under the arch were two more wolves—even larger than the previous ones. They stood chest high with muscled shoulders, far thicker than any natural animal. Adding to the terror of their appearance was the intelligence that wrapped around them like a second skin. They snarled and stalked forward, their eyes focused on him and Rune.
The tattoos on Grey’s arms flared cherry red.
“What do we do?” Rune yelled, looking behind at the rapidly approaching goblin horde. “They’ve got us trapped.”
Grey had no idea. He had no weapons and was nearly positive what stood in front of them: werewolves. The intelligence of a man, the power of a beast. Ryker had always teased that Grey carried silver powder in his pockets. Right now, he wished he actually did.
Tate blew by them, turning as he went. He tossed Grey a dagger. “Stay right behind me!”
Grey snatched the blade midair.
The first wolf jumped, and Tate dropped into a roll with one arm out, holding his crossbow. He landed flat on his back, raising the weapon and loosing a bolt as the animal soared over. The three-sided tip cut through its belly, but the wound was superficial. The wolf landed and spun for a second attack.
The other wolf used Tate’s distraction to move for Grey.
Being stalked by the most terrifying thing he’d ever seen, Grey realized a glaring fault in his romanticized dreams—the ones where Tate returned to rescue him. This wasn’t a dream . . . It was a nightmare.
“Rune, stay back.” Grey gripped the dagger—it gave him all the confidence of trying to take down a polar bear with a toothpick.
The wolf was so close now. All he could see was a giant, snarling mouth, glittering brown eyes, and the deliberate movement of the shoulders as it stalked its prey.
The thing leapt, and dinner-plate-sized paws punched into his chest like sledgehammers, knocking him flat on his back and pinning his arms to the ground. Grey struggled, trying to defend himself, but a few hundred pounds of wolf kept him immobilized.
A deep rumble rolled through the werewolf’s chest—a very humanlike chuckle. There was a devious glint in its eyes, and it leaned closer, jaw opening wide. The stench of its breath was overwhelmingly foul but played second fiddle to the palatable flavor of death that overrode Grey’s senses.
He turned his head away. It was the only defense left. Either look away, or watch his own demise.
There was a blur of legs and shoes, and then Rune barreled into the side of the beast, shoving her shoulder into its ribs like a linebacker, knocking it sideways and clear of Grey. The werewolf snarled, rolling immediately to its feet. Rune scrambled backward onto her heels and the palms of her hands, looking around for anything she could use to defend herself—there was nothing but grass.
Grey struggled up and ran, leaping in front of Rune and brandishing the dagger with feigned confidence. The façade was critical—he’d learned that through many combat classes. Fear was the enemy, and you kept that terror hidden deep. Where it couldn’t be read and used against you.
The werewolf’s focus broke for a moment, and it looked behind its prey, snarling and giving a stiff shake of the head. Its message was clear: These two are mine; stay back.
The small army of goblins stopped a short distance away, but many of the greasy-haired beasts moved anxiously from one foot to the other, itching to continue the attack.
Tate shouted foreign words, and the stainless steel of the arch began to shimmer—first white, then taking on a yellow hue. The change distracted the wolf, and it glanced to the side just as Tate charged toward them. He leapt and wrapped his arms around its thick neck. Swinging over the top, Tate’s knees smashed down on the other side, the momentum throwing the furry beast into a flip and effectively clearing the path to the arch.
“Hold hands. No matter what happens, don’t let go!” Tate stood and grabbed Grey’s left hand. Grey took Rune’s hand with his right.
