The Night Shifters (6 page)

Neither of them saw
me. I hurried past them and in through the open door of my English
class.

Mr. Markos stood at
the front of the class, looking at his ledger and smiling at people
who came in, joking with them. He was a nice guy. I felt guilty for
hating his class. I sat in the back of the room, where I could see
the parking lot out the open door.

When the room had
filled to overflowing, Mr. Markos put down the ledger. “Okay, let’s
get started. You know your term papers are due today, no excuses
and no more delays, people. Pass them to the front of the
room.”

“Term paper?” I
asked the woman next to me. She gave me a pitying look and pulled a
thick, bound manuscript out of her backpack. “Yeah. It counts for
ninety-five percent of your grade.”

“What’s the other
five percent?”

“The oral
presentations we’re supposed to do this week.”

Stars danced before
my eyes.

Mr. Markos
piled the manuscripts on his desk, higher and higher. “I’ve decided
we’re going to do the oral presentations in alphabetical order of
your names. Starting with
A
.”

“All right!” said
my neighbor. “I’m glad my name’s Ziboglycerin!”

“Now let’s see.” Mr
Markos bent over his ledger again. “Who’s at the top of the list?
Oh yes. Hazel AAA.” And he looked directly at me.

The room
became dead quiet as everyone else looked at me too. But all I
could think was
Hazel AAA? That’s a real name?

“We’re waiting,”
said Mr. Markos.

Well, this was it.
The truth. “I don’t have a report to give today,” I said,
calmly.

“You don’t? Why
not?”

“
Because – “
I got to my feet for dramatic effect. “Because
I quit!
”

After a moment of
stunned silence, the room broke out in thunderous applause.

“Hurray!” said Ms.
Ziboglycerin. “I wish I had your courage!”

“Yes, it’s true,” I
told them sagely. “I hate school, and I don’t have to go anymore.
I’m going home now, to do whatever I want. Goodbye forever!” And I
walked from the room to the sound of a standing ovation.

Outside the air was
fresh and clean. A breeze lifted my hair as I strode down the front
walk to freedom. This memory-recovery stuff was great! The very
heavens seemed to open before me.

But one thing kind
of confused me. It was dark out. The heavens were beautiful, full
of starshine and colorful nebulas and so on, but – I had never been
enrolled in night school. All my classes had been morning classes.
And besides, how was I going to get home?

“
Very
clever,
Serena
.” I turned and
saw Nostradamus coming down the front walk, Camilla prowling
gracefully at his side.

She gave me a
toothy smile. “Or shall we call you Hazel AAA?”

I put on a brave
face. “You can leave off the AAA.”

“We’ve got a lot of
questions, young woman,” said Nostradamus. “And you’re going to
give us the answers. One way or another.”

I backed away from
them until my heels hung off the curb. I wondered whether I should
dash to the right or the left, and every moment I waited it became
harder to decide. Then I felt a rush of wind at my back, and their
satisfied smiles tightened into snarls.

“Wait!” Nostradamus
reached for me as a long, black limo slid up to the curb behind me.
A door swung open and a hand reached out.

“Hurry!” said an
urgent voice from inside the car. I grabbed the hand and was
literally yanked off my feet. I landed on soft upholstery and the
door slammed behind me just in time for Camilla and Nostradamus to
press their faces up against the window.

“You fool!”
Nostradamus’s voice was muffled, and then the car pulled away from
the curb and left them behind.

“You can sit up
now,” said my rescuer, pleasantly. I lifted my head to look at
him.

The handsome
white-haired man smiled at me with his sharp teeth. His red eyes
glowed in the dim interior of the car.

“Allow me to
introduce myself. I’m the Car King.”

* * * * *

I wanted to open
the car door and leap out, but I was spared that act of stupidity,
because the door didn’t have a handle. No button for the window,
either – those were probably up front, and to get to them I’d have
to climb the back seat and tackle the driver.

The driver’s eyes
flashed red from the rearview mirror, and I decided to stay where I
was.

“Relax, my dear,”
said the Car King. “You are not in the usual sort of danger. I
would simply like to talk things over with you. I can help you
understand your situation better. Would you like that?”

His voice had a
soothing quality. It sounded rich – and cultured, like his suit,
which was woven in dark, subtle tones of blue, the sort of garment
that could never go out of style. I felt out of place in my sweater
and jeans.

“Let’s have a
drink,” he said, as if guessing my discomfort. He leaned forward
and pulled down a small wet bar, and I noticed that his hair was so
long he was sitting on it. “Please relax, Hazel. You look so tense.
What would you like? A white wine?”

I started to
say
yes
, but my crystal
heart gave me a sudden, painful jab, so it came out,
“Yurk!”

“What?”

“Uh – nothing for
me, thanks.” I held my hand over my heart. It still twinged
painfully, but the stabs faded with every beat.

“Perhaps later,” he
offered.

“That would be
lovely.”

“Well.” He patted
my hand. “Don’t sit so far away, Hazel. I’ll have to shout to be
heard. Come.” He hooked an arm around my waist and slid me over.
“That’s better. You are a pretty thing, I must say. You have a
certain innocent charm. And I love your freckles.”

“Thanks.” I
coughed. “How did you know my name?”

“Unlike those
idiots back there, I knew your name from the beginning. It’s a
special talent I have.”

“
From
the
beginning
?”

He placed his arm
over the back of the seat – I could feel his fingertips lightly
brushing my hair. I knew I was in big trouble, but I couldn’t
resist looking into his eyes. He had things to tell me.

“Since the
beginning of this latest Shifting,” he said. “From your point of
view, since you woke up that first time to find that the sun hadn’t
come up.”

“And why hasn’t
it?” I shivered as I felt a tickle on the back of my neck.

“In the daylight,
cold reality rules. But the Night is the time of possibilities. The
Night is our time.”

“
Oh.” I felt
a little disappointed. I had hoped for an explanation that would
make sense. I turned away and tried to look out my window, but his
hand crept around like a snake and cupped my chin, and then I had
to look at him again.
Where’s his other hand?
I wondered, then jumped as I felt it on my thigh.

“Why is everyone
chasing me?” I demanded. “What did I do?”

He considered
that for a moment. “That’s a good question. I’ve asked it myself –
yet here I am making my own play for your attention. But I think I
agree with Sir John. For some reason, the Night likes you. It’s not
so much what you’ve
done
Hazel – it’s what
you could do in the future.

Now listen
carefully.” His expression hardened. “You don’t know it yet, but
you have power here. With a lot of work and with my careful
guidance, you could be the equal of any Night Shifter.”

“Even Sir
John?”

He smiled.
“Especially Sir John. Nostradamus and Camilla have been weakened by
their exposure to the Black Manna. We have a great opportunity now,
and we should take advantage of it.”

“What is that
stuff, anyway? The Black Manna, I mean.”

This time he
frowned. “I’m not sure. I think it may be
raw
Night. You and I will investigate it later, once we’ve made
some changes.”

“How are we going
to make changes?”

His perfect face
loomed closer. “Let me show you.” He kissed me. I felt something on
my mouth like warm honey, and my body started to go limp. I wanted
to fill up with the honey, but something hot and sharp jabbed me in
the chest.

“Ouch!” I yelled.
He jerked away.

“What is it!” he
demanded, his face wild.

“
My chest – I
–
ouch
!!”

He reached for my
chest with his fingertips, and the pain increased. I pushed away
from him and jammed myself against my door.

“Just stay over
there!” I ordered him.

“You’ve got
something in your chest. I wonder what it is?”

“Of course I’ve got
something in my chest! What have you got in your chest?!”

He laughed gaily,
almost madly, his head thrown back in abandon. “My dear!” he said,
“you don’t want to know!” He laughed some more, and the driver
joined him. Then he regarded me with a seductive smile.

“Now – I think
you’d better level with me, Hazel. What have you got in your
chest?”

The door remained
hard and unyielding against my back. “I thought you already knew
everything about me.”

“So did I. But
apparently I was wrong. Was it something you got from Sir
John?”

I didn’t answer,
but his smile widened. “Hmmn – probably something to protect you
from bewitchment. Well, I know how to counter that.”

He pushed a
button in his armrest, and the back seat began to roll toward the
front seat, extending itself into a bed. I rolled with it. It
locked into place with a
click
.

“What’s this for?”
I asked uneasily.

“You have something
of his inside you,” he said. “Now I’m going to give you something
of mine.”

The driver began to
laugh again as the Car King crawled across the bed toward me.

•

“Just wait a
minute,” I said, ineffectually.

He put a hand on my
ankle. “Once this is done we can wait together. And I promise
you’ll feel better about things.”

“
I’ve
heard
that
before. Though I can’t remember
exactly
when
...”

He seized my ankle
and began to pull me toward him. The pain in my chest was now
almost suffocating. As I slid down the door, I caught sight of a
golden flash outside the car window, an approaching light.

“What’s that?”

“Nothing.” He took
hold of my knees and tugged some more. But outside, an angry
buzzing began to grow. We both looked to the window, which glowed
with the golden light.

“
It’s
The Wild
Hunt
,” snarled the driver.
“They’re surrounding the car!”

A moment later I
saw the handlebars of a huge motorcycle; then bronzed, muscular
arms, and then – a mask! The rider wore a horned mask like the one
on the statuette in Sir John’s den. His eyes glittered at me
through the eye slits, and long hair the color of ancient gold
streamed behind him in the wind. My crystal heart gave me a
different sort of pain, one I rather liked.

A dozen more riders
appeared on both sides of the car – young, bronze-skinned men with
black or gold hair, their chests naked, wearing wide bands around
their upper arms.

“They look pretty
wild, all right!” I said.

“They dare to call
themselves The Wild Hunt,” said the Car King, his voice somehow
sounding both cool and hot. He didn’t spare me a look, but kept his
eyes fastened on the Masked Man.

“What do they
want?” I dared to ask.

“They want
you.”

My crystal heart
gave me another one of those pleasurable jabs.

The Masked Man
smashed his fist against the window, and it cracked. The Car King
pushed another button on his door, and a compartment opened in the
back of the front seat. Something long and metallic gleamed
inside.

“Cover your face!”
cried the Masked Man. I obeyed, and he struck the window again.
This time it shattered – tempered glass flew everywhere.

“Your hand!” he
shouted, and even his voice was golden. He reached for me. I took
his hand, and with one great surge he pulled me from the car.

But just before my
feet cleared the window, the Car King seized my ankle.

“
Not so fast!
She’s
my
guest! If you want her, you’ll have
to fight for her!”

I looked up at the
Masked Man from my precarious position, with the road blurring
beneath me. I could see his strong, smooth neck and his firm chin
beneath the mask. He looked down at me, as if deciding.

His eyes were
amber.

“I accept,” he
said.

The Car King
released my ankle, and the Masked Man pulled me into his lap. But
before I could enjoy my position, he passed me over to another
cyclist, a black-haired fellow with blue eyes. The Masked Man
reached down to where his muffler should have been and drew a
sword. Then, balancing like an acrobat, he stood on his motorcycle.
The Car King emerged from a door on the roof of his car, holding
his own sword, his long, white hair whipping wildly in the wind.
The Masked Man leaped from his motorcycle to the roof, and the two
of them lunged at each other. Blue sparks flew as their swords
clashed.

At that
moment, I knew every bit of trouble I had experienced since I woke
up had been worth it – hell, every bit of trouble I’d had in my
whole
life
–
just so I could be there
now.”They’re fighting over you, sweetheart,” said a deep voice
right next to my ear. I looked into the blue eyes of my driver, and
he gave me a strange smile. His eyes were almond-shaped and his
cheekbones high. His teeth were strong and white, not pointy like
the Car King’s. So why did he make me nervous?