Night's End Read online

  Chapter 8

  Oh fuck. What the hell was I going to do?

  The Shadow Hunter growled, his eyes luminous black with swirling stars—the stars of the Indigo Court. I froze, mesmerized for a second, but then instinct took over, and in one swift motion, I turned to drop the child back in the crib with one hand, while with the other, I yanked out my dagger. Smoothly, I stabbed at the Shadow Hunter’s face, even as Check plunged a sword into his back, then quickly out again.

  The creature yelped, snarling as it turned, and I took that moment to whip my dagger back and plunge again, this time catching him between his shoulder blades where Check had stabbed him.

  Check had managed to keep hold of his sword, and now, he ducked to the side, bringing the blade up into the belly of the Shadow Hunter. The creature let out one last howl and toppled to the side, still. It was dead.

  I picked up the child and looked back to Check. “We can’t take him through the fighting down there. Check the rest of the upstairs, and if it’s clear, I’ll lock myself in this room with him until you let me know everything downstairs is safe again.” I didn’t want to leave him alone—it was far too dangerous.

  Check didn’t look all that happy, but he nodded. “As you wish, Your Majesty. But if something should happen—”

  “That’s why you check and double-check the upstairs here. To make sure it won’t.” I nodded toward the door. “Out, and I’ll lock the door behind you.”

  He glanced over at the window. “First . . .” He hustled over and shoved the armoire in front of it. The only other exit was the door, so he’d effectively sealed me in, and any rogue Shadow Hunters, out. “There. I’ll feel better now.”

  And with that he left the room. I locked the door, pressing my ear to it until—a few minutes later—I heard him knock from outside. He announced himself, and I cracked the door.

  “I checked the other rooms and blocked the windows as best as I could. I can’t lock the doors—they lock from the inside, so the minute I’m out that door, please latch it. I’ve done everything I can think to do. I’ll be back for you as soon as we clear the downstairs.” And then he pulled the door shut, and I locked it as he headed for the stairs.

  Turning back to the child, I stared at the boy. He was still crying, though more softly, and he reached for me. “Mama . . . Want my mama.”

  “So you can talk?” I had little doubt his vocabulary was still quite limited—he seemed very young—but at least he could say a few words. I picked him up and looked around. A rocking chair nearby offered a good seat, and he leaned his head against my shoulder as I rocked him. The thought of children scared me, though I knew Grieve and I would someday have them. They were so vulnerable, and they needed so much.

  “What’s your name, little one? What’s your name?” I wasn’t sure if he’d understand me, but he blinked his huge blue eyes and sniffled.

  “Andy. Where’s mama?” The sobs coming from him were quiet, almost eerily so, and I realized the boy was exhausted. Probably over-exhausted, if my guess was correct.

  He doesn’t know. He’s too young to understand what’s going on. Ulean swept past, blowing a gentle breeze across his wet, red face.

  I know. And there’s no way I can explain that his mother’s probably dead, caught in the carnage below. Chances are his father is there, too. I wonder about the girl.

  I fear she was wounded, Cicely. Who knows how badly?

  Do you think she’ll live?

  I cannot say, but the Shadow Hunters make no differentiation between adults and children when they attack. At least the boy is unharmed.

  Yes, terribly frightened but alive and well.

  At that moment, he whimpered and stuck his thumb in his mouth. I gazed into his face—he looked so scared, and so alone. So I did what anybody trying to comfort a scared baby would do.

  “Andy, your mother is asleep. She was tired. You should sleep, too, honey. Go to sleep.” And I began to hum, gently rocking him back and forth, until he dropped off in my arms as the fighting raged below.

  Shortly after I’d slipped him back into his crib and covered him up, making sure his teddy bear was next to him, a knock sounded at the door. Pulling my dagger, I crept over to it, edging to one side as I waited.

  “Your Majesty, we’ve routed them all. It’s safe to come out.”

  Ulean? She had stayed with me, watching over me. Now she blustered away, but was back in seconds.

  It’s Check. The fighting is over. The Shadow Hunters are dead.

  I unlocked the door and stepped back, pressing my fingers to my lips. “We need to get this little guy out of here. There’s only one place I can think of where he’ll be safe, and that’s back at the Barrow.”

  Lannan and Rhia joined us, along with Chatter. One look at the boy, and she raised her hand to her lips. “There’s something about him . . . I don’t know what, but he looks so familiar to me.”

  As I watched her lean over him, an odd feeling swept over me. “Rhiannon, you be his foster mother. I don’t know how—I don’t know why, but I think . . . Andy’s meant to be with you.”

  I wasn’t used to premonitions that didn’t deal with death or destruction, but this one felt life affirming, and when I closed my eyes and tried to project ahead, I could see a tall youth in a field of flowers. He had long, flowing golden hair and a smile like the sun, and he was standing under the glow of midday.

  “It’s important you take him. More than ever, I see him as having a place in our future.” The feeling was overwhelming, and I prayed she’d listen to me.

  Rhiannon lightly ran her fingers over the side of his cheek. “My son? Well then, we’d best make sure he gets home safely and is watched after. I wonder what he’ll grow up to be.” She looked at me. “We need to get him back to the Barrows. Help me?”

  I motioned for Check. “Summon Fearless. Have him choose two men he trusts and ask them to take Andy back to the Barrow. Have Druise look after him, and make certain nobody else has access to him. Tell her . . . Tell her I said he’s to be treated as if he were my son.”

  Check bowed, then raced out of the room. I turned to Grieve. “He’s our nephew, my love. We will keep him safe—and for some reason, it’s important he stay in Winter’s domain until this is all taken care of.”

  “Our people are more ruthless than our Summerkin.” Grieve smiled, but there was an edge to his voice. “Rhiannon, your realm is far lighter than ours—no less dangerous, but more inviting to those who would plunder it. Until we destroy Myst and set our homes in order, best rely on Winter for the protection of innocents like the boy.”

  Rhia shrugged. “I’m not going to argue. I know you’re right.”

  Fearless returned with two guards whom I recognized. “Your Majesty, we have been through the shaman’s testing. We are safe.”

  Fearless nodded. “They tell the truth. All who joined us have been tested.”

  “Then take the boy and run back to the Barrow. Stop for no one, stop for nothing. Avoid all confrontations until he’s safely in Druise’s arms. Tell her I said he is to be treated as my nephew—to be watched over at all times. No one is allowed to come near him save for her, and the shamans, and anyone they trust. Keep him safe for our return. His name is Andy.”

  Rhiannon gently lifted him out of the crib, and he was so tired he merely blinked for a moment, then fell back asleep. She bundled him into their care, and within a blur—a motion of speed and silence—they vanished with him.

  Ulean, follow them to make certain they reach home safely. Help them in any manner you can. If they need help, summon the shamans. Return to me when the boy is safely back at the Barrow.

  I will. Cicely—you are right. He is part of the future of both Summer and Winter’s realms. And with that she was gone, following the guards.

  I turned to the others. “What’s the damage down below? What abo
ut the little girl?”

  Fearless shook his head, his lips set grimly. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty. By the time we reached her, she had lost too much blood. All inhabitants of this house except the boy are dead. Torn to bits and a good share of them eaten. From what we can tell, there were five adults and two older children. The Shadow Hunters destroyed them all. And we killed fourteen of the creatures.”

  Fourteen. In a sea of how many? “How many of our men did we lose?”

  “One, only. Another wounded, but he’s still able to fight. We’re ready to move out.” Check straightened his shoulders. “At your command.”

  I glanced at Rhia. She gave me a nod.

  “Then let’s get a move on. We’ve got to get into town and rout them from the police station so the officers who are still alive can return to their headquarters and regroup. How many patrols are still out there?” I turned to Lannan. “Do your men know?”

  “I will find out.” He took off. One thing I could say about the vampire. When we were pressed to the wall, he focused on business and getting things done. He kept his sleazy nature for when we weren’t in immediate danger.

  As we headed downstairs, the smell of blood was overwhelming and my stomach lurched. But what made me queasier was the fact that I was getting used to it. The sight of shattered corpses and the slick feel of blood under my feet were beginning to feel like a normal way of life.

  The room was thick with bits of offal scattered here and there, along with splintered bones, arms and feet and hands that had been severed and tossed aside. Rhiannon stood as steady as I, and I reached out and took her hand. Together, we entered the room and surveyed the damage.

  Nothing had been left standing—the furniture was gone, all of it. But over near the fireplace, I caught sight of a small trinket box. I picked it up. The glass was intact, and inside was the diorama of a small child skating on a pond near a winter landscape. As I lifted the lid, the Skater’s Waltz tinkled out, the tinny sound catching at my heart. This was important to someone who had died here—it had been a birthday gift or a Christmas gift, or some such token. I slowly shut the lid and handed it to Rhiannon.

  “Save it for Andy—give it to him, to remember his life by.”

  “He’s magic-born, you know.” She cocked her head, running her fingers over the box. “I don’t know what gifts he’ll have, but I could feel the magic around him.” As she slid the box into the bag she’d slung over her shoulder, she gave me a sad smile. “I wish we knew his parents’ names . . . to tell him when he gets older and wants to know.”

  “We don’t have much time, but let’s . . . Here . . . look.” I picked up an envelope that had fluttered off one of the tables or desks. It was a doctor’s bill, from a pediatrician. A bill for treating Andy for a cold. “His mother and father were Roy and Rebecca Chase. That much you can give him. Later on, we can check the city records and find out if he had any brothers or sisters, and hopefully figure out who the others here were.”

  Lannan sauntered back over. “We put out a call. There are fourteen units, each with two men, still prowling the town. So we have at least twenty-eight officers alive. We should go. We are nearing the police station, and the sooner we evict the Shadow Hunters, the sooner they can return and secure it. I’ll have some of my men stay through most of the night to help them reinforce it.”

  We headed out, our makeshift army of vampires and Fae marching through the street. True to his statement, we were only about six blocks from the precinct headquarters. As we jogged through the snowy streets, no cars glided down the roads, and the signs of struggle were everywhere. Houses with their lights on stood silent, some obviously barricaded, some plundered. I thought I saw once a face staring at me from an upstairs window—watching us as we hurried through the night, an army to fight back the darkness.

  About a block away from police headquarters, one brave—or perhaps foolhardy—man raced out of his house. He was older, and he was carrying a shotgun. “You’re going to fight them, aren’t you? I want to help.”

  I looked at him. He was old enough to be a grizzled grandpa, but his gaze told me he’d seen his fair share of trouble. “It’s dangerous out here. You should go back inside and bar the door.”

  “If we don’t stop them, there won’t be any door they can’t break down, or any barricade strong enough to withstand them. I want to help. I’ll take orders.” His jaw set, he gave me a steely-eyed stare.

  I glanced at Check, who nodded.

  “Fine, but you do as you’re told. Is anybody inside your house?” I nodded at the open door.

  “No. Bastards took my wife this morning. I managed to get inside before they caught up to me. There wasn’t anything I could do to help her.” His voice quavered. “Forty years. Maddy and I withstood fights, we broke up three times and got back together. Our son died overseas, and our daughter was in and out of jail all through her teen years, but now we have three grandchildren from her. I bounced back from a heart attack, and Maddy made it through breast cancer. But here, in what’s supposed to be a safe and cozy town . . . in our front yard . . .” His voice trailed off, and he dashed his hand across his eyes.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Trevor. Trevor Grant. My wife was named Maddy.”

  “Welcome to the front lines, Trevor.” I would have smiled, but there wasn’t much of anything to smile about at this point. He gave me a short bow, and I realized he knew who I was.

  “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

  “Get in line, soldier.” Grieve clapped him on the shoulder. “You’re with us now.”

  The older man seemed to appreciate the order, and he proudly marched back to Fearless, who showed him where to go. Chances were he wouldn’t make it through this alive, but if he did, he’d have a place in my Court if he wanted one. Yummanii though Trevor might be, he had what it took to be a member of the Winter Court.

  As he worked his way to the center of the line where Fearless had assigned him, another call startled me. I turned, as did the guards, in time to see several men and women straggling out from behind a thick patch of brambles. They were scratched and bruised, with some bleeding, but they were alive.

  “We want to join you, too.” The man in front stepped forward. “We’re magic-born and have a smattering of spells that might help. We’ll do whatever you need.”

  Grieve tapped me on the shoulder. “They could be spies.”

  I gave them the once-over. Could be, might be . . . But if they were, what better place than to have them where we could see them?

  “Report to Fearless. You do what he says—that’s the one order. You break it, I won’t vouch for the consequences.” I held the man’s gaze, challenging him slightly, but he merely nodded and led the brigade of ten back along the line, where Fearless interspersed them, making certain our guards were surrounding each one of them. He also perfunctorily patted them all down to make certain nobody was carrying anything like explosives. Once they were in place, we quickly covered the remaining distance to the edge of police headquarters.

  The building was functional, yes, but the architect had also had vision. New Forest’s police headquarters was crafted out of concrete, but with pillars and an embellished façade that gave it a feeling of importance. No run-of-the-mill building, this. A statue of a woman holding the scales of justice stood out front, ten feet tall and towering over the courtyard. Because the police were headquartered in city hall, there were concrete benches and picnic tables surrounding the courtyard, and what looked like sculptures—all buried under the heaping mounds of snow.

  The lights were blazing from inside, through the open double doors. One of the heavy metal doors had been ripped off its hinges, and an uneasy feeling hit the pit of my stomach. There were bound to be Shadow Hunters still in there, though I doubted they would deliberately set out to occupy the building. They weren’t like a regular militia, and Myst wasn’t a
ttempting a political coup. At least, not in the usual sense of the word. No, she was out to destroy the existing structure, not just take over. Myst wanted a new world order, where her people were free to hunt as they desired.

  As we strode through the courtyard—they had to know we were coming—signs of butchery were everywhere. Blood galore, and bits and pieces of what were once people littered the snow, turning the pristine white fields into gruesome burial mounds.

  I shivered. Myst was taking no prisoners this time. She might keep someone she thought would be useful to her—turn them if they worked magic or had special abilities—but the rest of the populace? Cattle food.

  We strode through the snow toward the open doors. Rhiannon and I fell back a bit, allowing some of the elite guards to go in front with Grieve and Chatter. I looked at my cousin.

  “Are you ready?”

  She shrugged, a mirthless smile on her face. “Are you?”

  “Always and never. Is this our life then? After Myst, will there be another upstart? Or will things quiet down?” Feeling particularly grim, I stared at the future as an unending string of battles and blood. Maybe we’d luck out, but right now, I had the uneasy feeling that leading a kingdom meant that we would always be at war with somebody, somewhere. Maybe I was just tired, or scared—or both, but for a brief moment, I just wanted to change into my owl form and go flying away, into the night.

  But then we were through the door and into the mess that had been city hall. The Shadow Hunters hadn’t just destroyed police headquarters and the officers within: it looked like they had ravaged most of the building. Which meant that, considering they had come in during the day, most of the city workers had probably lost their lives. At least the ones who hadn’t managed to get away. The blood smeared on the walls and floors attested to that. The smell was stuck in my nose by now, and I wondered if I’d ever get rid of it.