Legacy: The Niteclif Evolutions, Book 1 (22 page)

“I can’t get anything from the wards since I was the last one to open the door. It was foolish of me to not even check before we entered the apartment. Nay, not foolish but arrogant. I won’t be making that mistake again.”

I quirked an eyebrow. I might not have known Bahlin well, but I already knew enough to know that arrogance was simply a part of his persona. I would bet my life on it. But I let it go, deciding it was best not to poke the angry dragon.

I took a deep breath and said, “Let’s open the fridge and get this over with.” I could immediately taste my pulse in my throat.

Bahlin walked back into the kitchen and put an arm around me in camaraderie. “Agreed. Let’s get it over with. Take a deep breath, sweetheart, the first time’s always the worst.” He grinned a lecherous grin and waggled his eyebrows at me, and I laughed. Having accomplished what he set out to do, he opened the door and we faced the head together.

Just as I’d thought, it was Maddox.

“I suppose he was killed because…” I paused, unsure what to say. I wasn’t fishing for a response from Bahlin, but I got one anyway.

“There could be a number of reasons, pet,” he said. He set the head directly on the counter and I made a mental note to never, ever use the counter for anything food related. Hell, I doubted I’d use that little stretch of counter
ever
.

Maddox’s head had been severed right below the jaw line in a clean cut. Due to the temperature of the refrigerator there was very little blood beyond what had pooled on the shelf the head had occupied.

“How long has he been here do you think?”

“Depends on a number of factors,” Bahlin said.

“Check the temperature setting on the refrigerator,” I suggested. “If it’s been set lower, we’ll know he’s been better preserved. In fact, let me get that. You look at the head first. I’ll get there in a minute.” I’d buy as much time as I could before having to get close to the noggin.

Bahlin turned the head on the side, resting it on the ear, and I spun around to the refrigerator. No need to throw up on my first violent crime scene. I opened the door to the refrigerator and saw all the congealed blood and the smears through it where Bahlin had removed the head. I had the briefest moment to think,
Too bad I’m not gonna make it
, and I threw up all over the inside of the fridge, right on top of the evidence.

“You’re lucky I’m not a sympathetic vomiter,” Bahlin said, chuckling. “Grab a look at the temperature on the fridge and then go rinse your mouth in the sink.”

“I’m so sorry,” I mumbled, wiping my mouth with the hem of my shirt. I glanced at the setting on the temperature gauge and shut the door on the mess. “I think I’d suggest you just buy a new fridge. In fact, take it out of my first paycheck.” Because however rude it was, I knew I wasn’t going to be cleaning up
that
mess.

“No worries, Maddy. Now rinse your mouth and let’s go over Maddox here.”

“No. Let’s not give the head a name. It’s too personal. Call him it, or thing, or head, but not…” I couldn’t even bring myself to say his name. Even though he’d shot me, I was somehow remorseful to see him dead, especially by violence. Because I was betting the murderer hadn’t put him down humanely and
then
cut his head off.

Bahlin grinned at me over his shoulder. “Sure. Then rinse your mouth, and we’ll go over
it
.” He laughed and went back to the head on the counter, bending to look at the underside of the jaw.

I went to the sink and washed my mouth out. Realizing I had vomit detritus on the bottom of my shirt from where I’d wiped my mouth, I told Bahlin I’d be right back and went into the bedroom to change. I didn’t want any of the sickness on me. The smell was burned into my nose and I almost couldn’t stand that much of a reminder that I’d tossed my supper. Bahlin had said sympathetic vomiter as a joke. I was the real deal, even if it was just residual.
Could one be sympathetic to one’s self?
I wondered, snorting out loud. This wasn’t the time to be engaging in my own philosophical internal dialogue, even as a means of escapism. I had work to do. I dug out a clean T-shirt and dragged it on over my head, dropping the dirty shirt in the corner of the room as I walked back to the kitchen.

Bahlin stood aside, motioning me forward with a sweep of the hand. “You’ve got to get close to it eventually, Maddy. Might as well jump in now that you’ve emptied your stomach.”

“Never, ever refer to this moment again, Bahlin,” I growled at him. “Never. Do you understand me? It is not to ever be repeated. It is not to ever be mentioned. It is not to ever be recounted in any form.”

“Ah, I can’t make that promise, Maddy, for fear I’d be lying to you, which I already promised not to do. I will, however, promise not to make jests today.”

I shrugged, figuring it was probably the best I could do at the moment. I walked over to the head and looked at it. The skin was gray, probably from loss of blood but also from Maddox’s natural color when he’d been alive. I was loath to touch it but I did, doing my best not to recoil from the firm, rubbery texture. Looking at it analytically, there were several factors I had to take into consideration. I needed to see the head from several angles to form a hypothesis. But first I had to wash my hands to get the death cooties off. Yes, I know they don’t exist but after touching the body I was creeped out. I washed my hands thoroughly with water as hot as I could stand it and dried them on my clean shirt.

Turning to Bahlin I said, “Bay, would you handle the head for me? I’m not quite there yet.”

“Sure. Want me to roll it around?” His eyes sparkled with mischief.

“Did you act this way with Aloysius?” I grumped.

“Absolutely I did. He threw up at his first body, too, you know. Though no one wants to talk about that in the memoirs. But it’s true.”

I smiled up at him, nearly ignoring the fact I’d bent closer to the head. “Thanks for that. But remember, we’re not discussing it. It never happened.”

“Ah, see, I apologize. I didn’t mean to lie earlier.”

“No problem. Would you tip that head this way, then let me see the bottom side?”

Bahlin rolled the head around slowly, letting me get a good look at it from different angles. As I suspected, the cut was clean, the separation of the spinal cord surgical. After several more minutes of careful review, I asked him to set it down. I walked into the living room and sat on the sofa, but Bahlin stayed in the kitchen.

“Come in here with me after you’ve thoroughly washed your hands.”

Rolling his eyes, Bahlin went to the sink and washed his hands. “You realize we’ve got to get out of here, right? Now that we’ve looked the head over, there’s not much time to be sitting on the couch and discussing things.”

I was embarrassed to admit that I hadn’t, in fact, thought that far ahead. I shrugged and said, “So, do we need to leave now?” I glanced out the window in the living room. The surreal events of the evening had screwed up my perception of time. “What time is it?”

“It’s about eleven,” he said, glancing at the stove clock. “We really should leave…” he trailed off, looking concerned. I think we were both a bit out of sorts, I because of the severed head, and he out of concern of me and my reactions.

“Remember, truth. What’s bugging you, Bay?”

“I’m going to have to get us out of here, and I’ll need to phase, or change forms, to do it. We’re leaving your car because I’m concerned the killer will recognize it now that we’ve been here, and so has he…or, in fairness, she. What do you think about leaving via dragon flight?” He smiled but it was a half-hearted effort, and I could see the concern etched in the little lines beside his eyes and around his mouth.

“I’ve seen the show, Bahlin. It’s fine.”

“That’s what you think,” he muttered. “Let’s grab some stuff and get out of here.”

“Where are we headed?” I asked, pushing up from the low, narrow sofa and heading into my room. I froze, groaning at my unintentional slip of the tongue. Bahlin snorted and rolled his eyes again.

“Bad joke. And as to where we’re going, I would really rather not answer that, luv. Who knows who could be listening, right?” he called out from his own room.

Shit. I hadn’t thought of that. An even better reason not to discuss the head until we were far away. Seemed like I ended up running from everywhere I ended up. What was that quote—everywhere you go there you are? I seemed to end up running, and I wasn’t sure it wasn’t, at least partially, from myself.

We were on the rooftop deck less than fifteen minutes later. We’d combined a couple of changes of clothing each into one soft messenger-style bag and we stood, side by side, looking into the night as if we could foretell the dangers.

“So what now?” I asked.

“Goddess help me, you’re impatient. I’ve got to work up the nerve to scare the shit out of you. Do you mind?”

“Alright, crank, get on with it.”

“Brave fool,” he muttered. He pulled his shirt off over his head and tossed it at me. “Put it, and the jeans, in the bag.” He was still barefoot, which seemed to be a personal preference, so no shoes to worry about. Besides, I didn’t think another set of size sixteens would fit in the bag. His feet were huge.

He peeled his jeans off and I was more than a little thrilled and happily scandalized to realize he went commando. I shoved his clothes in the bag, trying unsuccessfully not to stare at him. He was gorgeous, and standing here in the night he seemed to rule it with confidence. Glancing at me one last time, his eyes flashed first, changing to that inhuman blue. He crouched down, hands and feet on the ground and the air began to shimmer around him. Bones and muscles began to move under his skin in an unnatural way, the sound thick and wet. He began to shape shift, his hands digging into the decking as if he were in pain. A tail jutted out from between his buttocks, making me gasp as it slithered along the ground behind him. He seemed to fold in on himself and then grow larger by leaps and bounds. His wings folded out from his shoulder blades as if they’d simply been hidden there all along, hiding. Stretching out from his shoulders, his neck elongated and I recognized the small, soft spikes that grew out from his spinal cord. With a dark, silent flash, his skin was suddenly scaled and the transformation was complete. I was stunned into immobility. His form took up the entire top deck, though he was dark enough I wasn’t entirely worried about being seen by the neighbors. He huffed out a breath, and I walked toward him with small, unsure steps.

“Bay?” I asked quietly.

He huffed again, and I knew he understood me.

I laid a tentative hand on his shoulder. It was hard to reconcile the monster to the man, but I knew he was in there. I rubbed his shoulder in small circles, as much to comfort myself as anything.

“How do you want to do this?” I asked.

He pushed up with his front legs so he was squatting and, reaching down with his forearms, he scooped me up and held me close to his body. He turned his head to the side to eye me carefully and I nodded, not quite trusting my voice. Bahlin sighed deeply.

The night air seemed to grow denser around us and I realized that images were not quite so clear. It was like trying to look through dark smoke. I began to struggle to get down but he only held me tighter. With a giant push from his hind legs and a cracking sound behind us, he launched us up into the night sky, unfurling his wings so they propelled us away.

Every muscle in my body vibrated in fear at being carried this way. One small fumble on his part, and I’d be free-falling to the ground below. As the sights of everyday life grew smaller and smaller, I became more and more frightened, scared to move even the slightest for fear of distracting my dragon.

We flew for at least an hour before I realize that the stars were clear again and the haze we’d left London in was gone. Shivering less than on my original flight, I was grateful for the jacket I was wearing and for being tucked up close to Bahlin’s warm body.

I smelled the ocean before I saw it. It was fresh and crisp, and the pounding of the surf was interrupted only by the flap of Bahlin’s wings and the occasional puffing of his breath. Taking in a great lungful of air and holding me tighter, Bahlin trumpeted in a joyful voice, spinning once as we hurtled toward the ground. I squeezed my eyes shut and began contemplating anew my miserable mortality among the immortal, or nearly immortal, monsters. The air dampened as we got closer to the ground. Rocky, uninhabited cliffs formed through the fog. Bahlin set down gently, with a great backwash of air from his wings, and set me on my feet so he could balance on all four legs. He stared at me quietly, breathing deep lungs full of the fresh air and then he bellied to the ground again, nudging me toward his back.

“You want me to get on again? Are you insane? I’m too damned glad to be on solid ground again.” Skepticism laced every word.

He hummed in response and butted me none too gently toward his shoulder with his forehead.

“Pushy bastard,” I muttered, but I did as he wordlessly asked and clambered onto his back, once again sitting just in front of his wings.

I wrapped my arms as far around his neck as they would go and held on tight, unsure what to expect. Nothing could have prepared me for Bahlin launching us over the edge of the cliffs. We were in free-fall for a moment before he flapped his wings hard and veered off to the left, taking us nearer the cliff face than I was comfortable. I shouted in alarm and I could feel him rumble between my legs, though I wouldn’t have bet my own money on whether he was bemoaning my lack of courage or laughing at me.

Suddenly we were cloaked in the heavy, smoky miasma of London again and Bahlin flew straight at the cliff, pulling up short of the rocks. Reaching out with his forearms he pulled us to the cliff face and began climbing diagonally across the rocks toward a black fissure that I hadn’t seen before. He scrambled like a goat, sure-footed and quick, his claws securing footholds in the shale. We were through the cave’s opening in a moment. Bahlin scrambled further and further into the tunnel, the light disappearing behind us. The cave was completely devoid of any light, and my eyes strained to pick out even the smallest details in the encroaching darkness. Bahlin took a deep breath, and the void was split by a burst of flame emanating from my lover’s mouth. Shocked, I gasped and sat up, cracking my head against the cave’s ceiling. The bright bursts of color the flame had burned into my corneas were all I could see. When it finally receded I realized he’d been lighting torches along the wall. Very barbarian chic, I suppose.