Our Lady Chaos, page 44
part #5 of Bloodletter Series
Toby looked around. “Akkad?”
Lily patted the sand beneath her. “Down there, in the dark. The people of Akkad displeased me, and I buried them for all time. No human will ever find it, no human will ever give their spirits rest.” As if to support her point, the wind howled across the top of the dunes.
One corner of Toby’s mouth curled up. “Sure. Whatever you say.”
“I do not jest.”
Toby held up his hands in surrender. “I believe you.”
Her face scrunched, her eyes narrowing. “No, I see that you do not. You still consider this is a simple illusion.”
Toby swallowed, then forced a smile on his lips. “Uh…”
Lily’s eyes whirled and whirled as he stared into them. The creepy little melody swelled in volume once again, chords smashing themselves to pieces against one another. “I am not in the habit of repeating myself. I like you, cazador. You have…promise.” She held up an index finger. “But don’t test my patience.” Her voice thundered across the desert.
As if in answer, a sound like that of mighty stones grinding together hissed and spat from behind the dunes. As he watched, Lily began to change, to dissolve at the edges. The color leached out of her hair, her creamy skin faded, and the black of her dress and boots swirled and swirled into a cloud in front of her.
For a moment, Toby could see a creature out of nightmare, a being composed of the blackest of smoke, the densest of shadows, the darkest of hatreds. She pulsed, long chrome talons decorating the tips of her too-long fingers, and the edges of her frayed, wisps curling away into the air only to disappear with a pop. He stared, unable to look away, unable to deny what he saw.
Then, she became a column of smoke and shot upward, higher and higher, until she disappeared.
8
The Suburban’s tires shrieked and slid as Eddie wrenched the vehicle into a space and slammed on the brakes. Across a double row of parking curbs, the Life Flight helicopter idled on the helipad. Mike leaped from the vehicle and beckoned at the chopper.
A trauma nurse and a doctor dropped to the tarmac from the side door and ran hunched over to the Suburban. “I’m Doctor Walker. What’s the nature of the injuries?” asked the doctor, pressing her mouth to Mike’s ear to be heard over the helicopter’s turbines.
“Bear attack,” said Mike. “And a mugging.” The story had come from the combat medics, based on the wounds Shannon and Greg bore.
The doctor gave him a strange look, eyebrows quirked. “A bear attack and a mugging?”
Mike leaned toward the doctor and put his hand on the woman’s shoulder. “My friend and my lover are dying in the back of this Suburban. I don’t care if you believe me or not. Get to work.” A rictus of anger settled on his features as the doctor looked at him wide-eyed. After a heartbeat, she nodded and stepped toward the back of the vehicle, and Mike turned to follow.
The doctor stepped up into the back of the SUV and listened to each of the medics’ reports. She glanced at Mike, her eyes tracking down to the remaining bits of the black uniform that all but the Mitchells wore. Her gaze tracked to his, questions dancing in her eyes. Mike lifted his hand toward Shannon and Greg, his face finding impassive lines. With a nod, Doctor Walker turned and pushed her way between the medics.
9
Dan watched the drama unfold. He hovered three stories above the ground, in tight against the northern wall of the hospital, wrapped in cold shadow. The Trickster had looked bad, but the other one… He had looked half-dead.
The demon smiled at that assessment.
Delo waited as the helicopter took off and flew north. He paused as the somber group of would-be human hunters climbed back into the big black SUV. He waited as the SUV left the hospital parking lot and drove toward I-86.
He ascended in the column of shadows, then peeled away from the building and followed the Suburban.
10
Lily descended toward her daughter, riding the air as a fish does the currents of the sea. She regained her human form and stood staring at the three abandoned SUVs and the dead humans that littered the parking lot. She turned her head, scanning the dead mazzikim lying among them. Her head stopped as she gazed at the demon Lamia had killed, and her sated expression darkened.
“Come, Mistress,” Lamia said behind her.
Lilitu turned, watching the snake-tailed djinn assist her daughter into a sitting position. Free of her adopted lower caste facade at long last, the ifrit burned with a bright, satisfying red. “Naamah, my dear one,” she said.
Brigitta’s eyes snapped open, and she glared at Lilitu. “Don’t call me that! Use the name my father gave me!”
Lilitu narrowed her eyes. “I did. Lilu was your father, not that trumped-up charlatan!”
“Herlequin was more parent to me than anyone.”
Lilitu’s brows twitched, and she turned her face away, her eyes glowing and spinning with power and ire. “A mazzikim,” she sneered.
Abyzou stepped to her side and lay a hand on her forearm. “Perhaps another time, Mistress?”
Lilitu peeked at her from the corner of her eye. “You ifrit always stick together,” she murmured. “It was the same with Lilu.”
Abyzou dropped both her gaze and her hand.
“Lamia,” said Lilitu, turning her ice-cold gaze on the djinn. “Would you care to explain why my daughter had to face this mazzikim alone?”
Blood suffused Lamia’s cheeks and throat. “Mistress… I…” She trembled, a rolling shiver that coursed from the top of her head to the tip of her black tail. “The mazzikim took me by surprise. The fury of his attack—”
“I don’t believe I asked about the mazzikim!” snapped Lilitu.
“I was trying to explain…” Lamia’s face paled as Lilitu turned toward her. “I failed you, Mistress.” She bowed her head.
“Oh, come off it, Mother!” snapped Brigitta. “If you cared, you’d have been here instead of foisting your responsibilities on others.”
Lilitu turned her head a fraction of an inch—enough so she could see her daughter—and allowed a lopsided grin to split her face. “How is it you misunderstand the ways of your own kind, Naamah?” she mused.
“I told you not to call me that!”
“It is but your name.” Lilitu turned away, refocusing on Lamia. “But you’ll not distract me, mija.” She stepped forward and lay her hand on the back of Lamia’s head, curling her fingers into the greenish-black hair. At first, the touch was gentle, but as she bent down to put her face on the level of Lamia’s, she jerked her fingers into a fist and pulled the djinn’s head back. “Will she, Lamia?”
“No, Mistress. I didn’t expect the mazzikim to act as he did. I failed to predict—to prepare for—his fury. He took me unaware.”
“And you couldn’t beat him!” shouted Lilitu in a basso voice that seemed to roll to the very edges of the earth and beyond.
Behind her, Brigitta scoffed. “The mazzikim have grown here—they’ve gained power and physical strength. Plus, he had strength born of his insane hatred of Lamia and me. I couldn’t best him either.”
“Ah, but you did,” said Lilitu, glancing at Brigitta. “You bested him—your mistake was not ending his existence when you did.” She turned back to Lamia, the planes of her face hard, her mouth set in a ragged moue. She jerked the hand holding Lamia by the hair. “The mazzikim beat this one!”
Brigitta pushed herself to her feet, swaying a little. She drew a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. “Leave her be!” she snapped.
Lilitu smiled into Lamia’s face, then winked. She released her hold on the djinn’s hair and stepped back. By the time she turned to Brigitta, all traces of her smile had disappeared. “You dare command me?”
Brigitta scoffed and folded her arms across her chest.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” said Abyzou. “It’s always the same with you two.” She sneered at Brigitta. “Mommy didn’t treat me right!” She turned and frowned at Lilitu. “And you! Always rubbing against the girl’s grain! Always needling her!”
For a moment, Lilitu’s face clouded over, but then she smiled, eyes whirling with humor. She threw back her head and laughed.
11
Toby gazed up into the burning sky for a long time, staring at the last point where he’d seen Lily. That he couldn’t penetrate her visage scared him more than any subtle threats she may have cast his way.
Away from the constant need to move, to fight, to hunt, his mind turned inward, showing him Scott’s lifeless corpse, again and again. He’d been the first of their impromptu cabal to fall. His mind turned to Shannon and Greg for a moment, and he realized the magical thinking he’d embraced—that no one would die to the demons, that there would only be victories—was pure fallacy. I have to get back home, he thought.
The sun remained hidden behind the gray clouds, but the heat mounted and mounted as time slithered past. As the air heated, it lost some of its pleasant, spicy aromas and gained more and more of the flinty, burning odors.
Nothing moved in the vast plain of the desert spreading itself before him. He saw no birds, no reptiles, no people, no nothing. Not even the clouds moved with the ever-present wind. Toby’s throat got drier and drier as he marked the movement of the golden sun on the canvas stitched from the clouds.
Still, he waited for Lily to return. What’s the point of an illusion where I’m left alone? Where’s the terror?
He waited and waited, but Lily didn’t return.
12
An eerie silence fell over them as if the entire world sensed Lilitu’s mounting fury. “Where is the talisman?” she asked in a voice that hissed like a volcano about to erupt.
Abyzou lifted her arm and pointed east. “It is there.”
“Have you failed me, as well, Abyzou?” asked Lilitu.
“I…” Abyzou slumped and let her arm drop.
“At least they don’t know its importance,” said Brigitta.
Abyzou turned to Lilitu, her eyes downcast, but she said nothing.
Lilitu regarded her for a moment, her eyes spinning faster and faster and faster. Then she screamed, and the three abandoned Suburbans exploded, one by one.
13
A sigh gusted out of Toby, and even the passage of air from his lungs hurt the parched tissues that lined his throat. His thirst had continued to grow as the gray clouds dissipated, and the full force of the sun bore down on him. Judging by the sun’s passage through the sky, he’d waited against the dune where Lily had put him for three or four hours, give or take.
And still, no Lily.
If I sit here much longer, I’ll get heat stroke. Dehydration at the very least. I need water, shelter from the sun.
He turned his head from left to right. It all looked the same—all sand and heat shimmer, without even the hint of mirage to give him a direction to choose. He pursed his lips and let his gaze dart back and forth across the vista before him. His attention shifted from uninteresting point to point, looking for any hint of humanity, any sign of shelter.
But he saw nothing.
With a sigh, he got to his feet and fought his way up the face of the dune against which he had leaned. Lily’s tracks through the sand spanned from midway up the dune’s front to the bottom where they disappeared.
It’s strange that her footprints remain, he thought. He cast his mind back to the nightmare of being chased through Herlequin’s woods, the dog-things pounding on his trail. He didn’t remember ever seeing a track there. No marks on trees, no scuffs on the roots of trees, nothing. Strange.
He climbed to the top of the dune and stared east, then turned and stared west. Neither direction looked any different from the other.
If what she said was true, that this isn’t an illusion, and if you leave this place, how will Lily ever find you?
Toby knew he was in trouble, that if Lily chose not to come back, the chances of him living long enough to find help were slim and none. He did not understand where he was—not even which desert she’d plunked him down in—so trying to plan an escape route seemed like a waste of time. His choices were to walk in a random direction or to sit and wait.
With a shrug, Toby set off walking. Demons lie. It’s what they do. Besides, they can’t teleport.
He ignored the little voice in the back of his head that said, Brigitta can.
He walked along the ridge of the dune, burning in the desert sun. As the sun climbed higher in the sky, the sand seemed to get brighter and brighter, the air, hotter and hotter. He was forgetting something he’d read about surviving in the desert, but no matter how much he racked his mind, he couldn’t come up with it.
The image of Lily distracted him. Her smooth skin, the graceful curves of her cheeks, her glistening lips, her long, luxurious Kool-Aid-red hair that seemed a perfect complement to her black leather dress. Her hips had been narrow and her breasts small. It was as though someone had designed her to Toby’s tastes.
He shook his head and set his mind to scan the plain in front of him once more. The dune didn’t run straight—it curved to the right with subtle grace—but it didn’t much matter until Toby came up with a destination. And it took less effort to walk along the top of the dune where he could see his surroundings.
He walked with his mouth open, breathing in shallow little gasps as the temperature soared. Sitting at the bottom of the dune, he hadn’t sweat much, but with the exertion of walking along in the loose sand, he sweat and sweat until the black assault uniform he still wore had soaked through. His thirst grew more and more demanding, shouting louder and louder in his mind until it drowned out his thoughts of home, his grief for Scott.
14
Dan pulled his archaic mobile phone from his pocket, opened it with a practiced flip of the wrist, and quick-dialed Brigitta. He arched his wings and fell into a hover as he waited for an answer. He cupped his hand over the microphone to stave off the wind.
“Hello, you have reached me,” said Brigitta. “But, at the same time, you haven’t. Leave your beep after the message.”
A malignant grin broadened on his face. “Brigitta, this is Dan Delo. I have no idea what lies you may have heard about me, but consider this: someone warned me you were sending LaBouche to get me. After watching the fight at the park, it’s clear that he was your traitor. I’m—” A long beep cut him off, and Delo cursed while he quick-dialed again. “Hi, again. Sorry about that. I’m watching the hunters who survived. I’m following them west on I-86, and I’ll stick with them all the way home this time. Call me for updates.”
15
No one spoke as Mike drove west on I-86.
Benny fumed in the front passenger seat. He glared at Mike every few seconds, sitting with his arms crossed over his chest. “You’re wrong, Mike!”
“I don’t think so, Benny.”
“I want to be there when she…” He squeezed his eyes shut and set his jaw. “When she wakes! I can’t believe you don’t want to be there for Greg!”
“Benny, we can’t,” said Mike for the third time. “You know that, and you understand why.”
“I don’t care if the demons find me, Mike,” Benny all but snarled. “I’ll fight them if they come. I’ll kill them if they try to hurt her!”
“Think, Benny! If we go to Rochester, if we hang out in the hospital waiting room, and they catch our scent, we lead them straight to Shannon and Greg. And neither of them can fight or kill anything!”
Benny’s already pale face whitened further. Anger thrummed in step with Benny’s pulse. He glowered at Mike. “I could make you take me there.”
Mike threw a glance his way, his expression unreadable. “You could, Benny, but you won’t. You’re not wired that way.”
Benny slumped in the seat. “Then let me out! I’ll find my own way there.”
“That’s even more dangerous.” Mike tore his gaze away from the highway in front of them. “Look, Benny, you helped define the protocols. SPECTRe people will meet them at the hospital. They will ensure Shannon and Greg get the absolute best care money can provide—”
“It’s not the same!”
“And they will keep us informed. At least one of them will be a doctor in their own right.”
“I don’t care!” Benny slumped in the seat, his gaze turning toward the scenery flashing by. “When you got hurt, we came for you.”
Mike sucked his teeth. “Yeah, you did. But not right away. Toby stayed with me until the ambulance came, but then he and Shannon did what they had to do. They left me in the care of the EMTs. They left me and got the hell out of there.”
“She needs me!” Benny wailed.
“Right now, you are dangerous to her, Benny. Give it a day or two and SPECTRe will—”
“SPECTRe!” Benny scoffed. “Why do you get to decide for me?”
“Yes, SPECTRe. We set it up for a reason, and we set up these protocols for a reason.” Mike grimaced. “Do you really think I don’t want to turn north? Do you believe for one second that I like the idea of driving away while Greg—” His voice caught in his throat, and he shook his head.
“No,” murmured Benny. “It’s killing you—I can feel it.”
Mike grunted.
“But this is the hardest thing I’ve ever done, Mike. And that’s saying a lot.”
“It’s what we have to do.”
“Yeah,” sighed Benny. “What about Scott? Do we just leave his body there in that lot? Food for the demons?”
Mike grimaced at his own helplessness and lifted his shoulder. “We can’t go back, Benny. You know that.”
16
Lilitu stood in the center of the only intersection with a stoplight within the Oneka Falls town limits. Her gaze tracked from left to right, bouncing from face to face, making slow progress. With a grunt, she stalked away from the others.
Her eyes narrowed at the expression worn by one of the mazzikim who gawked at her. They couldn’t tell her from a human woman using their eyes, but they understood her nature, nonetheless. They knew who she was.
The demon staring at her didn’t lower his eyes, didn’t express awe as they owed her. A slow, lopsided grin spread across her face. “Hello, chingado,” she whispered as she drilled into his gaze with her own. Her nostrils flared, and above her, lightning crackled across the sky. A look of abject terror settled on the mazzikim’s face, and his head jerked hard to the left as though he were trying to turn away.
