Deathwish can-4 Read online

  “We’ve made our stand, Cal. All of us. You can’t take that choice from us. Now . . .” He gave a stinging swat with the flat of his sword to my knees. “Watch the water or you’ll be dinner. Of course, the creature would promptly vomit you back up. All the bitching and moaning.” He curled his lips. “No one could suffer that on their stomach.”

  I snorted and tossed another rock. “If anything comes out of there, their balls will be icicles. Kind of cuts down on the agility. I think we’ll be okay.” But when it came out of the water, it didn’t have balls . . . at least none that I could see. Not that I was looking for them or anything.

  Swear to God.

  It was like nothing I’d seen before, and I’d seen quite a bit in the past few years. The flesh was a mottled light gray on dark and was covered with a thick layer of slime. Its head was featureless except for round black eyes and a backward slash of mouth filled with a double row of triangular teeth. It had no neck; its wide chest was smooth and without nipples; the arms were short, with webbed hands; and the rest of it was a muscular fish tail. It looked like a shark with human arms. Like it was evolving slowly toward the land, and if that was the case, I was never coming to the beach again.

  It threw itself up on the wet sand, tail thrashing, and its mouth opened wide enough that I could’ve stuck my entire head in it. “Holy shit!” I sprang to my feet and yanked my gun free.

  “Wait.” Niko grabbed my wrist. “That’s our client.”

  “You’re shitting me, right? Tell me you’re kidding.” I looked at the polished black eyes and the gnashing mouth. “What the hell is it?”

  “A mermaid.” He frowned. “Merman? I think Mer is correct. Either way, this is the client Promise passed our way. Now, help me pull him farther up. I imagine whatever is chasing him will be right behind him.”

  “A mermaid? Jesus, Disney was way off the mark there, weren’t they?” I holstered the gun, seized one slippery, thick arm and helped Nik drag the heavy body farther up into the sand. “What the hell is after it?” . . . that could possibly be worse than this, I silently finished.

  Most of the time I went into a job with at least a sketchy knowledge of what we were after, and sometimes sketchy is all we had. But this time I hadn’t asked, my mind still on the Auphe, and Niko, always the teacher, had let me get away with it . . . for a reason. Learn your lesson the hard way and you’ll always remember it. And this was the result of that lesson—being more than mildly freaked out by our own client, and wishing like hell I’d worn some gloves. I wiped the slime on my jeans as I waited for Nik’s answer.

  “Promise wasn’t sure. It seems no one speaks their language very well.” The immediate whistling shriek from the Little Mermaid proved that, as Niko continued, “It was all the go-between could do to figure out it wanted help, that something was attacking the local school of Mers.”

  As swimmers rarely disappeared here, I guessed the Mer weren’t eating people, though they certainly looked capable of it. I supposed that made them if not the good guys at least not the bad ones. But, damn, what the hell was it they couldn’t handle? And a whole school of them to boot. I wasn’t shy about asking that either as I pulled my gun again.

  “They’re a peaceful people, apparently.” He actually said that with a straight face, like he hadn’t seen those teeth. “And my best guess is this one was working as bait to lead their attacker or attackers to us, so be ready.”

  I was. When one third of it slid out of the water onto the sand under the pier, I was as ready as I was going to be—which turned out to be not very.

  It was the length of three SUVs, I was guessing, end to end and as big around as a Volkswagen. Part of it was hidden in the crashing waves. Dead black, it had scarlet eyes with pupils as big as my fist. It also had a spray of teeth exploding at an outward angle from barracuda jaws that looked perfectly capable of snapping a boat in half while Spielberg pissed his pants.

  “We’re going to need a bigger beach,” Niko murmured.

  “Funny. Real funny.” I hadn’t brought the explosive rounds. I rarely needed them and they made a lot of noise. Attracted a lot of unwanted attention out in the open like this. Not as unwanted as the kind that was trained on us now, though.

  I backed up as the jaws opened and slammed shut. “What the hell is that thing?”

  “I think it’s a Jinshin-uwo. In Japanese mythology, it’s an eel that . . .” Niko’s usual pre-battle lecture was cut short when the massive head heaved up and forward before coming down on the ground with a force that would’ve crushed anything beneath it to jelly.

  Like our client.

  “Oh, shit.” It wasn’t much of a eulogy for the poor guy, but at that moment I was more concerned that the same wasn’t going to happen to me. Although seeing those two-feet-long teeth designed to do nothing but tear flesh, crushed might be the better way to go.

  As the head turned, the jaws clamped around the dead Mer, ripped it in half, and ate both pieces. Two bites, snap, snap—gone. I, along with Nik, backed farther under the pier. “The eyes?” I said.

  “The eyes,” he confirmed.

  Confronted with something this big, short of crawling into its stomach and stabbing it before you were digested, the eyes were pretty much the only way to go. And while it was fast, it didn’t seem to be as quick as many of the things we’d faced. The eyes were doable. I aimed my Glock at one grapefruit-sized eye and that . . . well, that was pretty much all I remembered until I woke up facedown in the sand.

  It was hard to breathe. Why? Why was it so damn hard? Where was the air?

  I sucked in a breath and something soft and powdery spilled into my mouth. Coughing and choking, I got an arm under me and struggled to turn over. I wavered on my side for a second and then dropped onto my back. Still coughing, I could see the sky above me. Purple. Good color, purple. I was a fan of purple. Grape soda and twilight skies . . . good stuff.

  Good . . . wait. Wasn’t there something I should be doing?

  Christ. Nik.

  I got my elbows under me as I finally pulled some air into my lungs and blinked at what I saw. I was at least forty feet from the darkness under the pier and if the pain slowly blooming across my back was any indication, I was lucky my spine wasn’t broken. I also saw the reason I’d ended up facedown. The giant eel had moved farther under the pier, its midsection still in the water, but its tail was out and whipping with violent fury. It was safe to say it had gotten me but good. I must’ve hurtled through the air like a crashing plane. Down in flames.

  “Cal!”

  I couldn’t see Niko, but I could hear him, and that was enough to snap me back to full alertness. I staggered halfway up, fell back down, then got back up again . . . all the way this time. My gun was still clenched tightly in my hand and as I lurched across the sand I fired. There were five muffled pops from the silencer and, just as I’d thought, not a single reaction from the eel. The rubbery flesh was too thick. The bullets probably felt like a fly bite to it, if it felt anything at all. I could’ve left the gun at home and brought a goddamn sushi chef for all the luck I was having with this giant unagi roll. I stumbled on through the shifting sand, gaining momentum and steadiness with every step.

  Closer, I could see Niko’s sword flashing, reflecting the stray beams of the streetlamps from the boardwalk. The eel’s head was moving back and forth just as fast. A lot faster than I’d anticipated. Apparently, it had figured out its eyes were its weak point, the same as we had. Or maybe that’s a knowledge that big bad-ass eels are born with. I didn’t know and I didn’t care. What I cared about was that Nik was taking on that thing alone. I ran faster, then dove to the ground as the tail headed my way. It passed over my head with only inches to spare. I smelled the dank salt water that sprayed over me. I turned my head to one side and flattened myself as much as possible as the tail swung back. This time I felt the skim of flesh against my ear. It was ice cold and unnaturally smooth, like a leech. I gritted my teeth, refused to shudder at the sensat
ion, got up, and moved. And I mean moved. I kicked off my shoes and tore ass up the length of the monster, and when it turned its head away from Nik’s sword, I put eleven silenced rounds right in its bloodred eye.

  That it noticed.

  It didn’t die. It didn’t thrash about in agony. It just noticed.

  But that was enough to put its attention squarely on me. Its right eye turned to jelly, it opened its mouth—the teeth cutting through the air like the maiming snap of a bear trap. I could smell the Mer on its breath. The blood, the flesh. I could smell other flesh, too, caught in its teeth. Decaying. Rotting for days, weeks. I gagged at the reek of it as I desperately dived to one side. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Niko go for the other eye. But the thing wasn’t surprised from behind this time. It knew where Nik was, knew that danger well. It snapped its head back. Niko was hit by the snout and flung across the beach, narrowly missing one of the pier columns. That would’ve broken him . . . shattered every bone to pieces no one could put back together again.

  I slammed another clip home as he landed on his back. He wasn’t moving, but he would. I’d survived it, and he was stronger than I was. More conditioned. Tougher. He’d get back up, and that’s the way it was going to be. So help me God.

  But since I didn’t believe in God, I was going to have to help myself. I rolled, got back to my feet, to be faced with an open mouth as tall as I was. The head turned slightly to get me into the sight of its one good eye as its flesh bunched muscularly, ready to surge forward. I jerked backward as I fired into the maw. Nothing. Nothing. Not a damn thing fazed it.

  Until the gate opened.

  And out they came. A swarm of the deadly, the fatal, the world’s first murderers. They’d hunted dinosaurs once, Goodfellow had said. For fun. There’d been easier things to catch and eat. But for a helluva good time, for a real party, they killed dinosaurs. The eel wasn’t much different.

  Thirty-eight sets of claws were buried in the black meat. As one, they dragged it foot by foot across the sand. With jaws snapping and long body twisting, it tried to escape. It didn’t. Section by section, it was wrenched backward into the largest gate I’d seen since . . . hell, since I’d tried to destroy the world. Black blood spilled on the pale sand as half of it disappeared into the whirl of gray light. Metal teeth buried in rubbery flesh and wrenched massive pieces free to toss away onto the sand, a pack of hyenas savaging their crippled prey. Those same teeth, now stained black, all grinned in my direction as they called me, voices as one—the crooning of a chlorine gas- tainted wind.

  “Cal-i-ban.”

  Death in the air, death in my name.

  Then they went back to the business—the fun—at hand, taking the eel to a hell that put anything in the Bible in the shade. The last attacker visible clawed its way up onto the eel’s back. Hand over hand it ripped into the now slowly thrashing body—they were eating the eel, I thought numbly. On the other side. They were eating it while it was still alive. The last Auphe kept up its bloody passage until it was behind the now-sluggish head.

  “You,” it hissed, bloodred eyes fixed on mine, teeth bared in the same happy, insanely twisted grin, but not murderous—it was possessive. Coveting. And that was worse. God, that was so much worse. “You are ours. For no other. Ours.” The hot-lava gaze slid to Niko. “And you, sheep, you are no more. Blood to soak the ground, screams to tear the air. Meat. Meat to feed us.” The grin shimmered black and silver. “Meat to feed your brother.”

  Then they were gone. Eel and Auphe. The gate closed. There were only sand, dark waves, a rising sliver of moon, and . . .

  And . . .

  And we were going to die. All of us. They were going to kill every last one of us, and I didn’t see any way around it. But . . .

  The way it—she—had looked at me. It meant something. I didn’t want to know. I didn’t. If she coveted anything, it was my death. That’s all. That’s all it could be. Fuck, I almost laughed, wasn’t that enough?

  My legs wanted to give out and dump me hard in the sand, but I refused to let them. Dinosaurs had never ruled the earth—the Auphe had. And if it weren’t for humans breeding like rabbits, they still would. Now billions of humans might live on, but we were soon to be as extinct as those dinosaurs. Buried and gone. All of us, me included.

  But not now, I thought as I caught grip of the last gossamer strip of sanity as it went sailing by. I held on tight, held on for all I was worth. Not now, I reaffirmed savagely. Not yet.

  I turned to see Nik sitting up and staring back at me. For once he looked as stunned as I felt. As if he didn’t have the answer. Even though he always had the answer. Even though he always came through. Never failed. Which wasn’t fair. It was a weight no one should have to carry, but he did it day after day. Battle after battle. Catastrophe after fucking catastrophe. He never hesitated and he never gave up. On anything. On me. He should have. There were times that if he had we wouldn’t be here right now. In this place, this position. Niko, Promise, and Robin . . . they’d be living their lives. I’d be gone, but it would’ve been worth it. To save the only family, the only friends I’d ever had.

  But that chance was gone. That ship had fucking sailed.

  But I had another chance. A chance to do something good. Something I should’ve done a while ago.

  I walked over to put my hand down and help Niko up. Not that he needed it, but he took it all the same. He stood, one arm cradling his ribs. Hopefully, they were only bruised, not cracked or broken. His jaw was set against the pain, and broken ribs or not, I knew he’d make the climb back up to the boardwalk stoically. That was Nik.

  “It’s okay,” I said. I couldn’t feel his hand against mine or the sand beneath my bare feet, but that didn’t matter. I had one focus now. One.

  “Okay,” he echoed dubiously, head turned down toward me. He said it as if he couldn’t believe that I had, as if he wondered how I could imagine that any of this could possibly be okay. Doubt; Niko hadn’t ever shown it, not on the outside. Not when we were kids—not last year when he had to kill me to save me. But I saw the faint shadow of it now. It was time for me to take the burden for a while. Time that I was the one to never give in, never give up. To believe, against all odds and logic, that we would make it. Force myself to believe, because that’s what was needed. To do what Niko had done for me his whole life.

  Even if it was a lie.

  “It’s more than okay,” I said, trying to sound optimistic. I’d never actually felt optimistic, so pulling off a completely unknown emotion was a stretch, but I gave it my best shot. I put my hand on his arm to support him if the ribs were broken and he needed it. He wouldn’t, but I did it anyway. “I’ll think of something. We’ll kick so much pasty nightmare ass, we’ll be limping for a week. Blisters on our soles the size of lemons.” Bullshit, utter and complete, but then again . . . maybe not. Maybe it wasn’t bullshit or a lie. I’d always claimed to be a monster. Now was the time to step up to the plate and live it. “I’ll think like them. I’ll anticipate them. I’ll be ready.”

  And why not?

  Who better to think like the Auphe than their own family?

  4

  Niko

  Pearls were everywhere.

  In shades of white, old ivory, and cream, hundreds of them spilled across Promise’s violet and gray rug. It was an amazing sight, the contrast between the soft pale shimmer and the dark colors of the rug. Beautiful. I recognized that, but I didn’t feel it. I felt many other things not nearly as pleasant, but not that.

  But I did feel the fingers combing their way through my hair. Slow and sure. Patient. When I remained silent for nearly an hour, sitting on the floor with my back against the couch, the fingers remained patient. Scooping up a handful of pearls didn’t change the pattern. Faithful, soothing—the only thing I felt. At the moment, the only thing I wanted to.

  The Mer had come out of the water when the Jinshin-uwo and the Auphe had vanished. The rip in reality sealed itself, and only Cal and I wer
e left in the icy December evening. Slowly, one by one, they came to the edge of the waves to balance upright on curled muscular tails. Each hand was filled with pearls. We hadn’t completed the job. The Auphe had done that, but we were paid nonetheless. Then, with the pockets of both our coats filled to the top with gems, we came home. Not ours, but Promise’s home. Cal had suggested it and I hadn’t disagreed. He thought I needed it, and he wasn’t wrong.

  “He grew up on me.” One last pearl fell and I smiled slightly. “I didn’t see it coming. Isn’t that odd? I always see everything about Cal, but I didn’t see that.”

  Promise finished smoothing my hair. With her legs tucked under her on the sofa cushion, her knees touched the back of my neck. They were warm, as warm as the hand that came over my shoulder to rest on my chest over my heart. Legend told you vampires were cold. Legend, as usual, lied.

  “I imagine he’ll still be a cranky little boy now and again.” There was a smile in her voice as she bent to press her cheek against mine. “But you did teach him well. No one else could’ve brought him through it all as you have. Sane, intact, his soul clean.”

  “Clean soul and the filthiest mouth around,” I mused. “Where’d I go wrong?”

  “Not a single place.” She straightened and patted her lap. “Lie with me. Tell me everything. The more I know, the more Auphe blood I can spill.” A cloud of black drifted across her eyes for an instant and then they were violet again. “And I will so enjoy spilling it.”

  So I moved up to the couch, rested my head in her lap, and gave her every detail of the night. She’d been given a quick sketch by Cal, who was on the phone with Robin as we’d walked in. “Sharks with arms. Big-ass eel. Goddamn Auphe. Watch your ass.” No one could say my brother wasn’t succinct when he wanted to be, or that he couldn’t paint a picture with his words. Granted, it was a picture made up of red and black crayon slashes, but it got the point across.