Deathwish can-4 Read online

  “But the Auphe are mad. What is pointless to us may not be so to them.” Her hand wrapped around mine. “All my life I’ve only survived. With you, I’ve actually lived. That is worth dying for.”

  To say I had mixed emotions on that was an understatement. Pride and automatic refusal. But I could refuse all that I wanted. Promise would do what she wished.

  Cherish would run. Oshossi would suddenly seem not quite so bad. He could kill her, but the Auphe would kill her. As for Goodfellow . . . a knock on the door, a scant moment of metal scraping the lock, and he was there. “So,” he said impatiently, “are we going after Oshossi or not? I had to perform with someone far, far below my standards to get this information. I would hate for it to go to waste.” His annoyance faded as he took us in. My stony face, Promise’s determined one, and Cal limply unconscious and worn to his last reserves.

  “Arhidia, what’s happened now?” The apprehension was easily read in his tense frame.

  I filled him in. Halfway through, he was on one of the chairs with his head in his hands. When I reached the part about us plummeting over the edge, he was muttering over and over under his breath, “Gamiseme. Gamiseme. Gamiseme.”

  I spoke enough Greek to agree with him. I repeated the same thing to him that I had to Promise. “You should go. When the three of us are gone, they’ll have no reason to come after you. And as long as you’ve lived, no one could be better at hiding than you, assuming they could even pick you out from the other pucks. None of us expect you to die with us.”

  His shoulders braced and he straightened to lean back against the chair. “And miss all the fun?” The careless smile disappeared. “I’ve run from battles all my life, counted my own life as far more important than anyone else’s. You, on the other hand, have faced death with me. For me. No one in all my years has ever done that. I stand with you now.” He turned a little green with the words, but he was resolute all the same.

  It wasn’t what Cal would’ve wanted. It wasn’t what I wanted, but bravery and loyalty could be unshakable. In this case, I knew it was. We would, if nothing else, give the Auphe something to think about.

  “Tell us what you learned of Oshossi,” I said, changing the subject. There was nothing more to say about it. Nothing more to do but to go down fighting.

  Cal had mentioned the brownstone Robin had told him about on the phone. And as far as the puck could tell, Oshossi had no backup locations. “It’s that or the park with his zoo. If he kicks our asses, well, that was that. But if we come out ahead on this one and he makes a run for it, then we’ll only have eight-hundred-some acres to search for him. What could be easier?”

  “Soon. Coming soon.” We turned as Cal mumbled in his sleep, and it wasn’t Oshossi he was dreaming of. That I knew. His hand clasped open and shut. It was the serrated-edged combat knife he always slept with that he was missing. I picked it up from the coffee table and slipped the handle into his hand. His disturbed breathing smoothed out and he dropped into a heavier sleep.

  “One last time,” I said to Cherish who had appeared at the hallway entrance. “We’ll try one last time for you and then, unfortunately, I believe you’ll be on your own.”

  “It’s more than I could ask,” she said gravely.

  It was much more, but Promise was willing to die with us. I owed her daughter at least one more effort. Although I was beginning to wonder—all this over a necklace? Oshossi might have his pride on no prey escaping him, but this seemed excessive over a handful of rocks and metal that held no other purpose. There is pride and then there is obsession. And to walk away when he might have easily killed us, it gave one pause. But I’d given Promise my word and I would live up to it this one last time.

  Cal slept nine hours, knuckles white from his grip on the knife’s handle every minute of those hours. I ignored the ache in my head and watched him. There had been a time when he had slept that way every night, except he had done it under a bed curled in a ball. The first time the Auphe had taken him, when he’d come back he’d spent months that way.

  During that time I’d slept little as I watched for the Auphe. Cal hadn’t talked much then; some days not at all. We’d been hiding in Charleston, South Carolina, at that time. I’d studied martial arts since I was twelve. Whatever city Sophia had dragged us to, I’d find a dojo. I’d collect cans or, when I could fool someone about my age, work any job I could find to pay for those lessons. I’d never forgotten that face at our kitchen window when I was seven. Or the others I’d seen since. And at eighteen, almost nineteen with a barely responsive brother, I went every day for as many hours as I could, taking him with me. I hadn’t known the Auphe for what they were then. I thought I would have a chance.

  I became a warrior, a killer, but all I had managed was to put off the inevitable.

  Eighteen Auphe. It may as well have been a hundred.

  I detected the change in Cal’s breathing and looked up from the blade lying across my lap. “We’ve had a helluva run,” he said. “At least those bitches will remember that.”

  We had. The steel that suddenly ran through me was as solid and real as the one that rested on my legs. “We have and we will. We are not giving up.” I couldn’t. I’d spent my life refusing to give up. I wasn’t going to start now. “The Auphe closed your gate. Do you think you could do that to one of theirs?”

  He sat up and thought about it. He had a crease across his face from the couch cushion, and what I suspected was a slight hangover from the drugs. “Yeah, I think I could. I felt how they took it. How they tore it apart. I’m pretty sure I could do it. But what good would that do? The last thing we want is to keep them hanging around. If they want to take off, I think letting them leave the party is our best bet.”

  “I don’t know if we can use it in our favor or not, but it never hurts to have information.” It was a piece of an impossible puzzle, but there were times amazing things could be done with one piece. “We’re going after Oshossi tonight,” I said, moving on. “Are you up to it?”

  He looked at his watch to check how many hours he’d slept and scowled. “You mean after you drugged me?”

  “Yes, that’s exactly what I mean,” I said without remorse.

  “Bastard,” he said affectionately, before yawning. He then shook his head, getting rid of the last of the drowsiness. “Yeah, I’m up for it. Hell, compared to this morning it’ll be like a vacation.” He tapped the black blade of his knife against the mala bracelet around his wrist. Putting down the knife, he pulled the beads off and handed them to me. “Thanks, Nik, but I think being Auphe now might be the best thing when the time comes. If Midol deosn’t work, I’ll give them a little taste of their own medicine.” He gave a darkly feral flash of teeth. “Next time they call me family, they’ll have reason to.”

  I fingered the beads, then slipped them back on. It was his decision, whether I agreed with it or not. And I wholly did not. His grin faded and twisted. “Sorry I didn’t get us out of this like I said I would. I thought being like them would be enough.” It wasn’t, because he wasn’t. But he couldn’t see that.

  “It’s not over yet,” I said.

  Neither of us would let it be.

  As Cal had not been in the mood for the revenant outside the Ninth Circle days ago, I was not in the mood for Oshossi. I was also not in the mood for Cherish having brought Xolo along. At best he’d be a distraction for her; at worst he’d be killed. It was not my problem or my responsibility, but it was an annoyance.

  “You will not be at top form if you’re watching out for him,” I told her. And watch out for him she would. He seemed to have the defensive capabilities of a sloth.

  “Do not worry,” she assured. “He hides well, and I’m not leaving him alone. If the Auphe discover the house, he’d have no chance at all.”

  Cal was studying the brownstone, along with the rest of us, from across the street. It was midnight, with snow still piled in heaps off the sidewalk. “Nik’s right. He has the kick-ass moves of soggy
breakfast cereal. You could’ve put him in a kennel. He could’ve had some nummy-nums and a nice scratch behind the ear.”

  “You’re not going to get over the fact he beat you in cards, are you?” Robin drawled.

  “Shut up. It was a fluke, okay?” Cal was only going through the motions. He’d seen Oshossi nearly kill me, without even making much of an attempt. He was, let us say, pissed. Or homicidal. Both words worked.

  “Of course. Bowser couldn’t possibly be smarter than you,” Goodfellow said smoothly. “Perhaps you can get matching flea collars.”

  If Xolo understood any of the conversation, he didn’t give an indication of it, his eyes staring dreamily as they always did. He didn’t have to understand it. I did and was tiring of it. “Enough,” I said. “Let’s go. Promise, Cherish, you take the third floor. We’ll take the first. If he’s not on either one, we’ll trap him between us.”

  On the other side of the street, Robin picked the lock of the door and Promise and Cherish swiftly climbed—almost floating—their way up the stone facade, Xolo clinging to Cherish’s back. We were inside in ten seconds, and I heard the breaking of glass above us. “The second floor is mine,” I said, spotting the stairs. “You two search down here.” Cal hesitated—obviously Oshossi’s scent was everywhere in the house; unable to pin it down, he followed the command.

  The runner on the stairs was as richly expensive as the first floor of the house. Oshossi apparently liked to live well. I was curious to see if he would die as well.

  I had my chance to find out almost immediately. He was waiting just past the top of the stairs, his machetes in hand. “Stubborn human. I spared your life last time, ineffectual prey that you are.” The pointed teeth bared. “I make no exception this time.” Long black claws sprouted from his fingertips, curving as the machetes did.

  I simply appreciated the lack of snakes. Unholy waterfalls of serpents, I could do without.

  I caught the first blow of his machete on my katana; the second as well. He swung each blade with equal skill and he was quick, quicker than Seamus had been, but not as quick as he thought he was. He couldn’t use his enormous strength. The metal of his weapons would shatter as easily as mine. I continued to fend off his whirlwind of blows one-handed while I drew a throwing knife. He lunged to one side, and I missed his throat, but I didn’t miss his shoulder. He narrowed his yellow eyes. “Not so ineffectual after all.” The predator teeth flashed in satisfaction. “I will enjoy this.”

  Ordinarily, I wouldn’t have. Killing was a fact of life, not something to take pleasure in. But this time, having lost so many times in the past days, I was going to enjoy this as well. I shouldn’t, but I was.

  I already had another knife in my hand and threw it as well. He knocked it aside with one of the machetes and lunged at me with the other, swinging it in a quicksilver blur. I came under it, then dived to one side before it could change trajectory and bury itself in my back. It tore through my coat as I rolled and sliced my katana to hamstring him, but he was already across the room. I didn’t give him any breathing space, and was on him again in an instant. He was fast, a challenge, but he was no Auphe. And he might not realize it yet, but he wasn’t me either. Not blade to blade. Hand to hand would be a different story, but for now . . . he was mine. It wasn’t overconfidence. It was fact.

  I couldn’t knock either machete from his grip; he was too strong for that. But I could go around them, under them, over them. I sliced his thigh and a path across his ribs as he did across mine, then I got behind him and slammed a foot in the small of his back. He hissed in disbelief, but he didn’t give up, whirling to face me before I could bury a blade in his back. I doubted he could remember the last time he had been defeated. What was good for the ego could be disastrous in battle. Humility could go a long way toward keeping one alive.

  Cal had said bullets had barely staggered him. It was time to see what a blade through his heart would do. He dropped the machetes and reached for me with hands that had flipped over a car. At the same time, I’d pulled my tanto knife and was jabbing it directly toward his heart. Or rather, where I was making an educated guess his heart might be.

  And that’s when they came down the stairs: Promise, Cherish, and her shadow, Xolo. Oshossi’s gold eyes widened, his hands dropped away, and he ran, throwing himself through the second-story window before my knife could hit home. There was the crash of glass, the thud of running feet, and as I moved to the window, I saw him disappear, weaving through the traffic.

  A fighter so fierce, so unyielding, that he couldn’t recognize he was seconds away from death, yet the sight of two vampires sent him running. With an ego so large, I imagined he would’ve thought he could take them as well. Yet he had fled.

  “He’s gone,” Cherish said bitterly. “Maldíígalo al infierno.”

  Xolo’s eyes were brighter than I’d ever seen them as he eased down the stairs behind her, but they dulled just as quickly when he saw Oshossi was gone.

  “We have to go,” Cal called from below. “Cops are coming.”

  All the shattering of glass was bound to have drawn attention. As for staying downstairs, he knew I’d call him if I needed him in the fight. Otherwise I needed him to stay out of the way. I needed the room. If only Promise and Cherish had known that.

  I put away my katana, fetched my fallen blade, and moved down the stairs to the first floor. “For the best hunter in South America, he spends quite a bit of time either escaping us or letting us go,” I mused. I gazed over my shoulder at Cherish and wondered if she was telling the truth—the entire truth. Xolo’s hazy eyes drifted over me. Then again, Cherish was guarding what seemed the most helpless of chupas, and she was Promise’s daughter. Something completely worthless couldn’t have come from Promise. Could it?

  No. No, Cherish deserved a chance.

  “Nik, you okay?” Cal’s hand urged me toward the door. I’d stopped, unaware. “Your head hurt?”

  Slightly foggy, I shook off my Cherish thoughts for another time and then we were on the sidewalk, moving fast. “No. I’m fine.”

  “I’m surprised Oshossi didn’t pick you up and catapult you through the floor,” Robin said. “Much like a Three Stooges movie.”

  “We fought with blades. He’s good.” I slid the knife back in its place. “I’m better.”

  “Unless he starts throwing cars around again, that makes you hot shit.” Cal was looking over his shoulder with distant eyes. He’d been doing that quite a bit lately. With the Auphe searching for us and finding us more often than not, I wasn’t surprised.

  “Cal?”

  He jerked his attention back to us. “Yeah, the cars. Stay away from the cars.” He said it to Cherish. “Or start running again, because we’re done. Probably in more ways than one.”

  Back at Rafferty’s, Cal watched the snow from the kitchen window. It was falling again, although in scattered swirls rather than the blizzard of before. “Are you hungry?” I asked, about to fix what few groceries we’d stopped and obtained on the way home. I’d already patched up the shallow slash on my side.

  He shook his head and kept watching.

  “What is it?” Cal wasn’t much for introspection. Unlike Xolo, if he was looking, there was something to see. I moved to his side and saw nothing but snow and hundreds of bare trees.

  He narrowed his eyes and kept them on the window. “One of them is watching us.”

  The Auphe.

  “Right now,” he added grimly.

  13

  Cal

  “I can’t see it,” I said, calm. Maybe a little too calm. The bogeyman was right outside, but look at me. Look how calm, cool, and collected I was. Like ice. You could frost a beer mug on my ass. “But it’s out there.” The Auphe bitch. I breathed on the glass and wrote in the condensation I SEE YOU. I didn’t really see it, but I felt it—as much as if it had been standing outside the window, inches away, facing me, all grins and murderous cheer. “It must have opened its gate pretty far away, because I
didn’t feel it.”

  “But you feel it now?” Niko stood by my side and kept his eyes focused on the night beyond the glass. “This is new, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah, new.” New, fun, and exciting. Feel a monster’s eyes on you. Hurry and call in now for a sample. Comes with a free prize. “All the traveling I’ve being doing lately. Maybe it’s another instinct thing that finally popped up. Pack animals sensing their own kind.”

  That sense of being watched for days—it’d started out small, like a small dose of paranoia, and it had grown and swelled, to the point that I was looking over my shoulder every hour or so, until I’d looked out of the window today, this very minute, and known. “They’ve always known where I was, Nik. Always. Since the day I was goddamn born. It was part of their plan.” And remaking the entire world in their image, that had been one helluva plan.

  “We guessed they were watching us since we stopped running, but this makes even more sense,” he said. “They wouldn’t have to watch us all the time to know where we were. And it would explain how they followed us all those years. How we wondered why we never lost them for long. How they always managed to track us down again and again.”

  “They could sense me, no matter where we went.” A biologically built-in tracking system. GPS built into the genes. The results were slower but as sure. Sticking together these past few days had been the worst thing we could’ve done, all of us, because I led them to us. The Auphe could sense themselves in me. Sense their blood just like I was one of them. It was one more repulsive goddamn tie to them and a hideous thought, but that thought, as horrible as it was . . .

  It gave me another one.

  I grinned darkly and saw the reflection of my teeth in the glass.

  A really nasty idea.

  One every last piece of shit of them deserved.

  Timing. It was all about timing. The same way setting off a bomb is about timing, because the Auphe were a living bomb. Too late and you might miss your target. Right on time, way to go. Too soon? Too soon usually meant you weren’t going to be around to appreciate the other options. . . . You were going to be tomato-colored paste on a wall somewhere. And when the explosive had a mind and an agenda of its own, yeah, you were probably screwed. It didn’t bother me that my whole life hung on a “probably.” Hell, it always had.