Night's End (16 page)

Once we were out of the gates, Rhia and I moved back into a protective circle of guards. They had all been vetted through by the shamans, so we were relatively safe where we were at—at least from our own people. Grieve and Chatter took the lead, and we raced through the night toward the town, with Lannan's people guarding our flanks. Lannan himself was up front between Grieve and Chatter, and whatever differences the men had, they pushed them aside for now. We couldn't afford to fight among ourselves.

As we sped through the night, through the streets heading toward the center of New Forest, we began to see the signs that the Shadow Hunters had been there before us. There were blood splatters staining the ground, and here and there, cars had skidded off the road, their doors hanging open. From where we were in the middle of the street, we couldn't see inside of them. For that I was grateful, but the scent of blood was thick in the air along the route.

Scattered houses were lit from within, so we knew that the electricity still held. Some looked barricaded, with smoke still drifting out of their chimneys, and to our thoughts, the people within them were probably still safe. At least, for now. But here and there, a house stood, lights on, but door busted open, or windows broken, and there were no sounds coming from within. And those homes—well, we knew what had happened. It was obvious.

As we were passing one house, we heard a high-pitched scream coming from inside. A girl was begging for help. Immediately, Grieve, Chatter, and Lannan veered, leading our men toward the house. Rhiannon and I were swept along, near the front but not close enough to immediately see what was going on. But we rushed inside, along with the men, and there, the carnage became evident.

The bone and gristle on the floor spoke to wholesale slaughter, and there were at least five Shadow Hunters in various stages of transformation. And then, I saw her—a little girl of about ten, crouching atop an entertainment hutch, bleeding from one arm and a gash on her forehead. How she'd gotten up there, I couldn't tell, but one of the Shadow Hunters was trying to swing up after her.

The girl had hold of a gun and was unsteadily pointing it at the creature. A glance to the floor showed that she'd already managed to hit one of them—he was back in his Vampiric Fae form, shot through the stomach, lying on the floor growling and bleeding. But he wasn't dead. It took one hell of a lot to kill the Shadow Hunters.

Our men swarmed the group while Check, Fearless, and Rhia's two guards pushed us toward the back, keeping us from joining the fray. The Shadow Hunters were whirling dervishes, violent as devils. They never gave ground, never ran, but in their savage fury, rent and tore at the guards. One guard went down with a scream, and his arm disappeared into the mouth of one of the creatures.

Their terrible jaws unhinged, the Shadow Hunters were like blue lions, only they knew no fear, focused only on the fight and the potential for food. They lived to destroy, lived to feed and drink the blood of their enemies, driven on by their need and hunger, and driven on by their love for Myst, who enslaved them all. Mother of the unnatural race, she was also their tormenter.

The little girl atop the hutch caught my eye, and in her expression I saw both horror and hatred. She would carry this for the rest of her life, if she made it through. She had seen them destroy her family, and right there, I knew she'd grow up with vengeance in her heart—it would be her way of surviving. The hope that she might one day return the favor, should any of the Indigo Court survive.

Cicely—there is another.
Ulean's soft whisper hit me full-on. The slipstream let me hear things that were too quiet to overshadow the noise going on around me.

Another what?

Another child. He is upstairs, in a crib—and he will die shortly if someone doesn't get up there and save him. There's a Shadow Hunter nearing his room, and the boy is crying loud enough to be heard.

I tried to make myself heard over the din, but Check shook his head, indicating he couldn't understand me. Frustrated, I shoved him aside and bolted for the stairs. Check and Fearless were on my heels then, and within seconds Check had scrambled by me to take the lead. I shoved at him, indicating that we needed to continue upstairs, and that, he understood.

We came to the hallway, and there, near a door at the end of the passage, stood one of the Shadow Hunters in his creature form. The sound of the baby was clear enough here, and we could hear his piercing cries over the shrieks of the fighting downstairs.

I pushed forward, but Fearless caught me back. Check engaged the Shadow Hunter as it lunged down the hall, and they fell to the fight. But one against one—not so good of odds, not with Myst's warriors. And so I shoved Fearless in front of me.

“Help Check! I'm getting the baby.” I shook off his hand and raced into the room as both of my guards began to struggle with the Shadow Hunter. A toddler—possibly a year old, maybe a bit more—was standing up, clinging to the side of the crib. His screams pierced the air. I raced over and swung him into my arms.

As I turned around, I saw the Shadow Hunter dart into the room. Fearless and Check were on his ass, but he covered the space between us in one great leap, and I found myself, baby in hand, facing the ruthless monster.

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 about 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.”