Read Return of the Hunters (The DeathSpeaker Codex Book 4) Online
Authors: Sonya Bateman
Tags: #shapeshifter, #coming of age, #witch, #dark urban paranormal thriller voodoo elf fairies werewolf New Orleans Papa Legba swamp bayou moon magic spells supernatural seelie unseelie manhattan new york city evil ancient cult murder hunter police detective reluctant hero journey humor family, #Fae, #ghost, #god
I didn’t even have the moonstone anymore. I’d left that with Daoin in Arcadia, since it technically belonged to him. Without it, my magic wouldn’t be as strong, and it would drain faster than usual.
If being the DeathSpeaker wasn’t enough to control Legba, we were probably all dead.
When we got off the train and into the waiting area, Denei gave me twenty bucks to get some breakfast and said they had some things to pick up. I declined to go shopping with them—the increasingly freezing weather outside and my lack of so much as a long-sleeved shirt had something to do with it. Mostly, though, I was still pissed. Reun offered to stay with me, but I really didn’t want to be around anyone for a while. Not that I could help it in a train station with hundreds of people milling around, but at least none of them had drugged or kidnapped me.
I found a Dunkin Donuts and got a cup of coffee, and a pile of frosting with a donut buried somewhere beneath it. The cashier gave me a strange look when I asked for five bucks in quarters back. I had a reason—my next task was to somehow find a payphone. I couldn’t call Taeral and Sadie. Taeral didn’t have a phone, and I’d only ever called or texted Sadie from my cell, where her number just said “Sadie.” But I did have one phone number memorized. And he was the first person I should call, anyway.
I’d wandered around the station for twenty minutes when I finally spotted a phone in a hallway leading to restrooms. It wasn’t a particularly inviting hall. There was a kind of New York alley vibe—one dim, stuttering light, about a third of the way down, and the rest of the scant illumination leaking around the corners of the barrier that separated the men’s from the ladies’. Torn flyers for long-past events taped irregularly to the walls, faded stickers and random graffiti done with marker and pen on the metal phone box. And of course, the vague air of eau de bathroom.
The place also seemed deserted. I hadn’t passed anyone on the way down here.
With a vague sense of unease, I grabbed the receiver, dropped a quarter in and dialed Abe’s cell. A prerecorded female voice asked me to please deposit a further three dollars and seventy-five cents for the first three minutes.
“Highway robbery,” I grumbled as I pushed quarters into the slot. Guess I was only talking for three minutes, if Abe even bothered to pick up. He wouldn’t recognize this number.
The phone went through an endless series of clicks and pauses before it finally started ringing. That damned well better not have counted toward my three minutes. I rested an arm on top of the phone case, caught movement to my right, and watched a wiry man in frayed denim turning down the hall. I stared at the phone and sensed him walk behind me. But instead of continuing to the bathroom, he stopped just beyond me and struck a classic awkward-wait pose.
Great. What were the chances of two people needing a pay phone at the same time?
I turned my back to him and ducked my head. There’d been five rings already with no answer. I was about to give up and hope the damned thing gave me my quarters back when there was an echoing click, and Abe said, “Captain Strauss,” in a who-the-hell-is-this tone.
“Morning, sunshine,” I said. “How’s everything—”
“Gideon, why the hell are you in Chicago?”
I blinked. “When did you develop psychic powers?”
“I’m good with area codes. Damned desk job,” Abe almost growled. “Now tell me what’s going on, and why you’re in Chicago without your own phone.”
The concern in his voice almost made me smile. I could always count on Abe to worry enough for both of us. “It’s a long story, and I only have three minutes,” I said. “Listen…”
It was on the tip of my tongue to ask him.
Get me home.
Call the Chicago PD, wire money for a bus ticket, rent a car for me. This could all be over right now. Taeral said that the Duchenes handled their own, and I really wanted to let them. Promise or not. Besides, it sounded like if they went up against Legba, they wouldn’t survive. And that would end my obligation.
I immediately hated myself for thinking that. Despite the way they’d gotten me here, I couldn’t just leave them to die.
“Spit it out, kid,” Abe said.
I shook my head and sighed. “Everything’s fine,” I said. If I told Abe what was really going on, he’d probably send the National Guard after me. “Just wanted to tell you that I’d be out of town for a few days. Kind of a spur-of-the-moment trip.”
Abe’s pause was accusatory. “Uh-huh. You just took off randomly for Chicago without your phone,” he said. “And what is it this time? Vampires, maybe ghosts or something? We’ve already been through werewolves and Fae.”
“None of the above.” At least that was true. Far as I could tell, Papa Legba wasn’t any of those things. “Tell you what, I’ll explain everything when I get back. Okay?”
“You’d better,” he said reluctantly. “So when should I start officially worrying?”
Last night.
“Just…try not to,” I said. “I will be back.”
“Well, you’ve come back every time so far. Guess I’ll have to take your word for it.”
“I’m sorry, Abe. But thanks for worrying.” I smirked at nothing in particular. “It’s good to know somebody’d miss me if I wasn’t around.”
“Damned straight, so don’t go dying on me.”
“Right back atcha, Captain.”
“
Please deposit one dollar and twenty-five cents for the next. One. Minute.
”
“Shit,” I murmured. Exactly one quarter more than I had. “Gotta go. See you soon, Abe.”
“I’ll hold you to that. Later, kid.”
“
Please deposit—
”
“Goddamn it!” I slammed the phone down in the cradle and heaved a breath. Well, at least Abe wouldn’t panic for a few days. One of the Duchenes had to have a cell phone, so if we were gone much longer, I’d just check in with him again. And hope I was back home before Taeral and Sadie knew I was gone.
I’d just started to move away from the pay phone when something small and hard poked into my side, and a low voice said, “Wallet. Now.”
C
HAPTER 11
I
’d forgotten all about the guy in denim. So much for two people needing the same pay phone—I knew there had to be something wrong with that coincidence.
At least he was polite. He’d waited to rob me until I finished my phone call.
I raised my hands slowly, still staring at the phone. No need to cause a scene if I could help it. “Look, man, I don’t have a wallet,” I said. “What I’ve got is like twelve bucks and change. It’s all yours, okay?”
The gun dug in harder. “Bullshit. Hand it over.”
I glanced at him, ready to just knock him out with a sleep spell and walk away from this. And instead of a nervous man with frayed clothes and a cheap handgun, I saw Hodge Valentine. With a high-powered rifle.
The part of my brain that knew this was another hallucination was no match for the powerful instinct that surged through me. “Get the
fuck
away from me,” I shouted, moving back a fast step. “
Céa biahn!
”
I gestured with the words, and he flew back through the air like he’d been smacked with a giant tennis racquet. The hallucination vanished when the would-be thief slammed into the divider wall between the bathrooms and slid down it, leaving a bloody smear behind.
He wasn’t moving any more.
“Oh, shit,” I choked out, rushing down the hallway toward him. I’d only ever done that to Fae, and they were a hell of a lot harder to kill than humans. He’d landed on his ass, legs splayed, body slumped sideways with his head at a very bad angle. Blood oozed sluggishly from his open mouth. I knelt and held a hand in front of his face, not daring to take his pulse because of the likely event that his neck was broken. It was far too long before I felt a faint puff of air against my palm.
He was dying. Fast.
I closed my eyes and pushed all of my energy into healing him. It was my weakest skill—I was still new at this stuff, and for the Fae, healing was more art than science. No magic words, no particular gestures, just the will to make someone whole again. And it took a lot of power. I could feel my spark guttering, my magic practically running on fumes.
Finally, the thief groaned and stirred. I snatched the gun from his hand dropped it into a nearby trash can before he gained full consciousness, just in case he felt like trying to shoot me again. “You all right?” I said.
He lifted his head slowly. A few blinks, and his eyes got really wide. He drew in a big breath and screamed, “
Help! I’m being assaulted! Somebody call nine-one-one—
”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I muttered, and flicked a gesture at him. “
Beith na cohdal.
”
He rolled his eyes and slumped over, snoring gently.
That last spell seriously drained me. It was actually painful to cast, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to do anything magical that was more complicated than turning on a light until my spark recharged. I’d get a little back over the course of the day, but I wouldn’t return to full power without exposure to the moon.
Damn. Not having that pendant was a lot more of a handicap than I thought. I figured I ran out of juice faster because I was only half Fae—the moonstone had let me conserve power by constantly amplifying what I had, and I’d always worn it. I had no idea what my true limits were before now.
At this moment, David Copperfield was probably more magic than me.
I left the thief snoozing on the blood-stained floor and made my way back toward the main waiting area, figuring he could have fun explaining that some guy he’d tried to mug had thrown him halfway down the hall without touching him. Hell, maybe I’d done him a favor. He might give up robbing people in favor of a less dangerous occupation, like NASCAR driving or bull fighting.
Meanwhile, I had more important things to worry about. Like how I was going to keep from impulsively murdering people until these damned hallucinations stopped.
There was still forty-five minutes of layover left, and none of the Duchenes had returned to the waiting area yet. I found an empty row of seats and sprawled on the middle one, hoping to discourage people from sitting near me in case they turned into Valentines.
I hadn’t been there long when a pair of them came into the room and headed for me. It was the middle two, dusted in melting snow and carrying a bunch of white plastic bags that read
Carson’s
. They stopped in front of me, and the girl offered a shy smile. “Hey, Gideon,” she said. “We ain’t been introduced, but…ah…”
“She’s Isalie, and I’m Bastien.” He held a hand out, then did a double-take when he remembered it was full of shopping bags. “Er. Hold up—”
“It’s fine. Nice to meet you,” I said. “Where’s everyone else?”
“All them went down the pharmacy.” Isalie glanced at her brother, then put a handful of bags on the seat next to me. “We thought…well, these for you.”
I frowned and gave the bags a quick scan. One of them held a big cardboard box, and the rest looked like clothes. “What’s all this for?” I said.
“
Mais
, what all happened last night…” Bastien coughed and looked at the floor. “You said you didn’t have any other clothes. We gon’ be a few days out, you know. Gettin’ pretty bad out there. And it ain’t exactly warm down city, neither. We guessed at the sizes, so them boots might be a little big. Got’ya spare socks, though.”
“Boots?” I slid the plastic down the side of the box and saw a picture of brown work boots. The other bags held t-shirts, jeans, socks, boxers, a pair of gloves, and a fleece-lined canvas jacket.
I was absurdly touched.
“Thank you,” I managed. “You didn’t have to do this.”
Isalie flashed an unhappy look. “We had to do
something
,” she said. “All this mess we dragged you into. Usually when shit goes down, Zoba—” She broke off with a hard swallow, and her amber eyes shimmered. “Can you really save him?” she half-whispered.
I tried for a smile. “I’m going to do everything I can,” I said.
“Thank you.” She shuddered. “I don’t know what we’d do without him.”
Now probably wasn’t the best time to tell them about my little magic problem. At least I already knew the DeathSpeaker stuff wasn’t tied to my spark, so I’d still be able to pull that off no matter how drained I was. If we made it that far.