The Last Raven: An Urban Fantasy Noir (Riftborn Book 1), page 9
“Get up,” he said. He didn’t like me at all.
I took a deep breath but didn’t move.
“Doc wants to see you,” the guard said.
I swung my legs out of bed. “Can I at least get dressed first?”
“You’ve got sixty seconds,” he said with a huff. “Make sure to bring the tape recorder.”
The second skin was on me at all times. I couldn’t take it off unless a guard unfastened the small digital lock on the back of my neck. I’d tried to rip it and found it impervious to harm. I had no idea what it was made of, but it was strong stuff.
“Doctor has a special thing for you to see today,” the guard told me as the cell door hissed open. He didn’t bother with shackles now; I was considered too important to be hurt, although not important enough, should it come to that. The second Dr Mitchell was done with me, I was dead. No two ways about it.
I picked up the tape recorder and made my way to the lift, which we took to the first floor. The guard pushed me along to the right after leaving the lift.
“Can you tell me where we’re going?” I asked him after we’d made our way to the far end of the building.
“It’s a surprise,” he said with a big grin on his face as he unlocked a large metal door, pulling on it, releasing a hiss of air. He motioned for me to go past, which I did without comment. “Wait.”
Once again, I obeyed. I was looking forward to a time when I didn’t have to obey a damn thing; then we’d see how well he did at hurting people.
The corridor beyond was bathed in blue light and was only a few dozen feet long before a second metal door, identical to the previous one, barred our way.
The guard performed the same routine as before, but as I stepped through the doorway, I got the distinct odour of bleach and the sounds of people talking. I must have waited too long for the guard, because I received a shove in the back for my troubles, and started down a long blue lit metal staircase.
The stairs opened out into a cavernous room, with a metal cage all around a sand-covered arena. There was a staircase to either side of me, and the guard motioned for me to go right, which I did without comment. I climbed the stairs and found Dr Mitchell sat at a desk on top of a metal platform. There was a laptop open in front of her, which she quickly closed before I could get a good look.
“Sleep well?” Dr Mitchell asked.
“As well as I have any night,” I told her.
“Today we have a special attraction,” Dr Mitchell said, sounding almost giddy about the whole thing. “Are you recording?”
I removed the tape recorder from my pocket and turned it on.
“Come with me,” she said, satisfied I was doing my job.
I followed Dr Mitchell off the platform and up another set of stairs to a large metal door. She pushed the door open and motioned me to step into a room with a large window on one side, looking down at the . . . Arena really was the only word for it. Opposite it were dozens of computer screens, and at the far end a lift.
“This is the nerve centre of what I’m trying to achieve here,” Dr Mitchell said as the lift opened and four people wearing long white surgical overalls and dark blue face masks left, all moving to various stations in the room.
“Do they perform as a techno-pop group on their days off?” I asked.
Dr Mitchell tutted. “I thought you were taking this seriously.”
“I am,” I told her. “Trust me, I don’t have a choice.”
“No, that’s true,” Dr Mitchell said. “Anyway, they’re in gowns and masks because they have to go down to the arena floor once the presentation is over. It can be a bit . . . pungent down there.”
“Presentation?” I asked her.
“Watch,” she said, motioning toward the large window.
Looking down over the arena, I saw that the left-hand side of the entrance I’d walked through led to a platform over two identical metal doors. Each one was ten feet tall and six feet wide, big enough to get a monster through. I knew Dr Mitchell was experimenting on people, but what the hell did she need those doors for?
“Are you ready?” Dr Mitchell asked.
I was about to reply when I realised she wasn’t talking to me.
“Yes, Doctor,” a female member of the quartet said.
“Proceed, then,” Dr Mitchell said, taking a seat on a chair that a guard had brought in for her.
I stood beside the doctor and watched as the two doors in the area were opened with a grating sound that went right through me.
A moose stampeded into the arena and ran around for several seconds. The moose was huge, easily two metres tall and maybe three long. People who have never seen a moose appear to be under the impression that they’re not absolutely bloody massive. They’re considerably larger than a horse, and if you’re a human and you’re in their way, your squishy body isn’t going to do a damn thing to stop them. They’re big and strong, and even a fully grown grizzly bear would think twice before taking one on.
The moose trotted around the perimeter of the arena, its massive antlers occasionally rubbing against the chain-link fence.
“Give it a little jolt,” Dr Mitchell said.
The moose almost immediately moved back from the fence.
“Electric fence,” I said. “For moose?”
“For whatever we put in there,” Dr Mitchell corrected. “Watch.”
The second door had been open the whole time, but nothing had come through it.
I thought I saw movement in the darkness beyond the door but said nothing and continued to watch as the staff in the room checked whatever was showing on their instruments.
“Is it shy?” Dr Mitchell asked.
“It’s waiting,” a male member of the staff said.
“Waiting for what?” I asked.
The wolf that shot out of the darkness was about seven feet tall and looked to be about three times the size of a normal grey wolf. It charged at the moose, which saw it and decided the best defence was a good offence. It ran at the wolf, slamming into it with its antlers and shoving it back.
Blood sprayed over the sand, and the wolf darted to the side, showing the huge cut down its flank. It snarled and charged again, dodging the swipe of the antlers and leaping at the rear leg of the moose, which it clamped down on and just tore free in one motion.
The wolf dropped the leg and walked over to the dying moose, putting its jaws around the massive neck of the animal and clamping down, shaking the moose from side to side as blood sprayed all around.
“What the fucking hell?” I asked. “You have a greater fiend wolf.”
Dr Mitchell smiled. “Actually, we created a greater fiend wolf. One we control.”
“Bullshit,” I said to the obvious gasps of the four staff members. “No one controls greater fiends; they’re animalistic. They’re monsters.”
“And now I control the monsters,” Dr Mitchell said. “Look down there, Lucas. What do you see?”
“A wolf playing,” I said. “Not acting like a wolf. Greater fiends still hunt, still protect their territory, just like they did as normal animals. They still eat. Blood is something they can’t pass by; it makes them almost need to hunt and feast. Why isn’t the wolf eating, why is it just tearing the moose apart?”
“She’s not eating the moose,” Dr Mitchell said. “Because we haven’t given her the order to eat the moose.”
“You’re creating weapons,” I said. “That’s all this is about, to create monsters to control.”
She grabbed my hand and led me out of the room, releasing my hand as we walked down the stairs and the guard had rejoined us. No point in trying to say I wasn’t going to follow her; I’d tried that on day two and almost got a broken rib for my trouble.
We stopped outside of the gates at the far end of the arena, next to where the wolf had entered. The door there was reinforced steel, with similar walls on either side before it turned into electrified fence. Dr Mitchell placed her pass against the card reader and pushed open the door.
“You want me to go in there with a greater fiend?” I asked her.
“You will,” Dr Mitchell said as I felt pressure on the back of my head. “Or my guard friend here blows your brains out and we feed you to it.”
I did as I was instructed. Two days to go, Lucas, I said to myself.
The wolf was sat on its hind legs, its entire upper body covered in moose blood, which drenched the sand.
“Come here,” Dr Mitchell snapped, and for a second, I thought she was talking to me, but the wolf padded over and sniffed her hand. It could have taken the whole limb off with one bite and used it as a toothpick.
“Go to him,” Dr Mitchell commanded, and the wolf walked over to me.
I looked up at it as it stood before me. It was the size of a shire horse and strong enough to tear a moose apart. The wound on its flank was healing. Greater fiends healed fast; it’s why once you engaged, you didn’t stop until it was dead.
Somewhere in the world, there were three little pigs shitting themselves waiting for this monster to turn up.
The guard grabbed my arm, drawing a blade. I fought back, pushing the guard away, but the wolf growled at me.
“I would allow this to happen,” Dr Mitchell said. “You will not die unless I will it.”
I let the guard get back to his feet.
“Your arm,” Dr Mitchell commanded.
I did as I was told, and the guard drew the blade again. The blue hue of the blade told me it was rift-tempered. He held it against the crook of my elbow and cut down across the forearm. The second-skin slipped away in two, revealing a shallow cut down my arm.
The wolf growled again.
“Your arm,” Dr Mitchell snapped. “Raise it.”
I did as I was told. The wolf sniffed my arm. The growl that left its maw reverberated in my chest.
“No,” Dr Mitchell said. “Back to your pen.”
The wolf walked by me as I stood there with my arm in the air, my heart pounding like a drum in my chest.
Dr Mitchell walked up to me, and I lowered my arm. “I and I alone command that fiend. You’ve now seen what we do here. We are not just creating weapons; we are going to create the next evolution in human fiend relationships. Wolf 447n will be the first of many. And when I have an army of them, I’ll be able . . . Well, that’s for another time.”
I was speechless.
“Get him a new second skin,” Dr Mitchell said. “Get his wound tidied up and let him shower.”
“What is the second skin made out of?” I asked as the doctor moved toward leaving the sand.
She turned back to me. “Maybe I’ll tell you one day.”
The guard took me back up out of the arena and into a shower room on the first floor of the building. He unlocked my second-skin suit and told me to change and shower before he brought me a new one. He left me alone and I almost tore the suit free.
I was done with this. Time to get as far away from these lunatics as possible. I reached out to access my embers and there was nothing. No power, no access, just a void where it had once been. I tried again. And again nothing.
Forcing myself to remain calm as my body started to panic, I turned on the shower and let the hot water run over me. I was stuck there until Isaac came. I had no power and no way to get more.
The panic began to rise in my chest again. What if Isaac couldn’t get there; what if Dr Mitchell decided to just feed me to that goddamn thing down there? Well, I wasn’t going out without a fight. I couldn’t access my embers, I couldn’t access my power, but I wasn’t helpless.
I breathed in and out slowly as the hot water cascaded over me.
“You done?” the guard snapped.
I switched off the shower, and he threw a black towel at me and placed a second-skin suit over a nearby sink. “Dry, and put some underwear on; the doc wants to check your arm.”
I nodded, not willing to say anything as I felt my emotions bubbling up under the surface.
I was human. It had been a long time since I’d been able to say that. All I could do was hope it would end better than the last time I’d been human.
CHAPTER NINE
Now
Are you sure you’re human?” Hannah asked.
“Yes,” I told her.
“Have you seen a specialist?” Gabriel asked.
“I’ve spoken to several,” I told him. “No one has any idea how to make this better. No one knows if I’ll ever access the embers again. No one knows quite why I stopped being able to have access. All anyone knows is that it’s really bad. The prevailing idea is that if I get mortally wounded by a non-rift-tempered weapon, I’ll bounce straight back to my embers, like I would normally.”
“And that’s not something you really want to try,” Gabriel said.
“For obvious reasons,” I said. “Chiefly that if it doesn’t work, I’ll just die.”
“Which would be bad,” Hannah said.
“I’d like to think so,” I told her.
“So, you stayed away because ya’ human?” Hannah asked.
“Partially, yes,” I told her. “I kept away because I had pretty terrible survivor’s guilt about what happened to my Guild, and I needed time to heal and not delve into a whole new world of trouble. But also because I was . . . am . . . human. I’ve been riftborn for a long time, and being human again, well, it was difficult to accept at first. I can’t do what I used to do. I’m not an asset anymore. I’m a liability.”
“Are you bollocks,” Hannah snapped. “You’re Lucas Rurik. You’re never a liability.”
“Kind of you to say,” I told her. “But I am a hundred percent not the man—or, rather, riftborn—I was.”
Gabriel got to his feet, walked over to me, and hugged me. “I am so sorry,” he said. “We had no idea.”
“It’s okay,” I told him. “No one had any idea; that was the point. Except for Isaac. I didn’t want people to pity me, or for anyone to catch wind of it and think it was open season on me.”
“You were worried someone would come after you and finish the job?” Gabriel asked.
I nodded.
“Not gonna let no gobshite come after you,” Hannah said.
“Thank you,” I said, meaning every word.
“So, we’re going to see Booker or what?” Hannah asked.
The three of us left the cleric house and made our way back to where I’d parked the BMW.
“Wait a second; I forgot something,” Gabriel said, rushing back off as Hannah and I got into the car.
“Callin’ shotgun right now,” Hannah said, switching on the heated seats.
“I haven’t seen Booker in four years,” I said. “I assume you have.”
Hannah nodded. “He’s a good man who doesn’t always do good things. Sounds like someone else I know.”
“You have the subtly of a brick,” I said.
Hannah laughed. “This fiend you killed. You think Sky-High helped create it? A human-fiend hybrid.”
I nodded. “They either did it themselves or they know who did. Too many coincidences otherwise.”
Hannah used the car centre console to find a decent radio station, and put on some Disturbed, which wasn’t something I was opposed to.
“I’m not sure how happy Booker is going to be to see us all,” Hannah said. “He’s not exactly someone who enjoys the company of law enforcement.”
Gabriel arrived before I could say anything, climbing into the back of the car. He carried a small black briefcase, which he put on the seat beside him.
“What’s in the bag?” Hannah asked as the car pulled away and we set off.
“Cash,” Gabriel said. “And a sandwich.”
“What kind of sandwich?” Hannah asked.
“That’s what you’re interested in?” I asked her.
“Ham and French mustard,” Gabriel said.
“See?” Hannah said, sounding like she’d clearly won an important point.
“Okay, that’s a pretty good sandwich,” I conceded.
“There’s a cook who works at the church,” Gabriel said. “She brings in these amazing fresh baguettes. There’s no way I’m leaving mine in there to be eaten by someone else.”
“Does your church have a big problem with people stealing food?” I asked as we left the town of Hamble, and the roads became clearer of snow. “Because I’m pretty sure stealing is a big no in the Bible, right?”
“I think so,” Hannah said. “Something about it being bad. Maybe I read it wrong.”
“You’re both insanely witty,” Gabriel said dryly. “You know full well that we don’t follow the Bible. Besides, people are not perfect.”
“The sandwich thieves of Hamble,” Hannah said. “Maybe when this is over, we can ask Emily to look into it for you, Gabriel?”
“You’re both terrible people,” Gabriel said.
“I’m pretty sure a man in your position isn’t meant to tell us that,” I said. “Aren’t you meant to be trying to save our immortal souls?”
I caught sight of Gabriel as he narrowed his eyes in the rear-view mirror. “I’m beginning to remember how lovely it’s been these last few years,” Gabriel said.
“How much money?” Hannah asked.
“What?” Gabriel said, the change of conversation throwing him somewhat.
“The cash, Gabriel,” Hannah said. “In the bag. How much?”
“Also, why?” I asked.
“Booker might need to be influenced,” Gabriel said. “Do either of you have cash on hand?”
“I’ve got ten bucks on me,” Hannah said.
“You’re going to pay him off?” I asked.
“You are, actually,” Gabriel said.
“How much is in the bag?” I asked.
“Fifty grand,” Gabriel said.
Hannah had been taking a drink of water at the time and almost spat it out over the car’s upholstery. “What the hell did you bring that much for?”
“I just took the whole bag,” Gabriel said. “It’s been sat around for a long time, and I’ve been trying to figure out what to do with it. This seems like as good an idea as any.”
