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Tricks and Treats Page 2
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“Is he going to make it?” I asked.
“He has severe trauma to his head,” he replied. “He won’t wake up tonight.” If he’d been uncursed, he would have been permanently brain damaged from the sounds of it. “We’re lucky none of the zombies, ghouls and skeletons are just normal Night Cursed beings and don’t have backstories,” he murmured when I hunkered next to him. “Imagine the damage one of them could do to the uncursed if they were ever possessed by a demon?”
We both shuddered at that thought. I’d run into a demon by the name of Azazel several times now. He had a habit of possessing Night Cursed beings with backstories like my friends and me. I wasn’t sure what it really meant, but we had more personality than the rest of our kin. Our memories were far better and we were also vulnerable to possession. We’d all taken to wearing crosses to protect ourselves. “No uncursed citizens were attacked, as far as I can tell,” I said.
Travis scanned the area and nodded. “I can’t sense any uncursed wounded.”
“You can do that?” I asked in astonishment. His nurses were tending to an injured celebrity impersonator. I wasn’t sure who she was meant to be. She had blonde hair in pigtails and wore a skimpy top and a miniskirt. One of her arms and both legs had been munched on by the horde. She was crying from the pain and the trauma of the unexpected attack.
“I can always sense who is Night Cursed and who isn’t,” Travis said quietly. That was a talent I thought only I had possessed to my link with the Immortal Triumvirate. “At least when they’re wounded, anyway,” he added as an afterthought. “I can’t tell whether they’re uncursed or not when they aren’t in need of help, unless I can see their tattoo.” He gestured at his left hand, but it was covered in a latex glove.
“I can always tell,” I told him, glancing around to make sure no one was paying special attention to us.
“You’re the Guardian of Nox,” he said with a grin. “You have talents the rest of us don’t possess.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively and leered at me.
I snickered, wishing I could drag him off to have my way with him. Unfortunately, he had a long night ahead and he couldn’t take the time to get naked with me in the middle of a crisis. “I’ll let you get back to work, babe,” I said. I gave him a quick kiss, then stepped out into the rain to resume my patrol. My trusty yellow umbrella was at home and I couldn’t be bothered to retrieve it.
Chapter Three
WITH THE THREAT OF the zombie, ghoul and skeleton invasion over, I took a carriage to the Shifter District and climbed out. I caught a glimpse of my reflection as I passed a clothing store. My hair was long, platinum blonde and I wore it up in a ponytail. Black eyeliner outlined my blue eyes. It was almost as thick as the eye makeup the gothic Night Cursed vampires tended to wear. My black jeans were artfully ripped from the tops of my calf-high black boots all the way up to my hips. A lacy black shirt and cropped black jacket with black and green feathers around the neck finished off my outfit.
The silver blade Lord Dallinar had gifted to me hung in a scabbard from my brown belt. I carried Wrath over my shoulder. Gray fog emanated from both the eighteen inch long curved blade on one end and from the six inch long blade on the other end.
Cursed beings could get haircuts, dye their hair and change their clothes, but when we woke up the following night, we would be back in our usual outfits and hairstyles again. Right now, my clothes were covered in green blood and reeked of death. I grimaced at the smell, then jerked to a stop when something brushed against me. It was just Chesi, so I relaxed again. The air elemental was fae and she was almost invisible. She was about three feet long from the tip of her nose to the end of her tail. Like the water elementals that guarded the river, she looked like a small dragon.
Chesi rubbed her slightly cold and scaly face against mine and draped herself over my shoulders. She had become my companion after her mistress, Inilvian, had been taken into the Immortal Triumvirate’s custody when her mother had supposedly been killed. Chesi watched out for me and had saved my bacon a few times. I was pretty sure she watched over me while I slept during the day as well sometimes. Since all Night Cursed conked out once the sun rose, I couldn’t be sure of that.
Things remained fairly quiet for the rest of the night, which was a relief. Too much excitement was never a good thing in my line of work. The City of Night was a mishmash of beings and cultures. Not everyone got along, which was why there were four different Districts, five if I included the Demon District in the catacombs. Most species kept to their own territories, but not always. It was my task to try to keep the peace and to punish anyone who stepped over the line.
When dawn neared, I took a carriage back to my apartment in the Miscellaneous Beings’ District. The heavy metal door to the warehouse was etched with images that reflected what sort of beings lived inside. Wrath and my sword were at the top. A crystal ball, tarot cards and a firetruck indicated Quilla and Steve resided in the building. Captain Jasper Shortbeard and Lady Marigold had a ship and a rapier as their images.
My apartment was on the fourth floor, which I supposed made it the penthouse. If I had to describe my home, I’d say it was a cross between modern and industrial chic. In other words, it was a hodgepodge of styles. The kitchen to the left of the entrance was ultramodern and sported stainless steel appliances. My dining room had a plain wooden table and enough chairs to seat six people. The living room was spacious and had a couch and two armchairs that were upholstered in faux brown suede. Rugs came and went seemingly at will on the bare concrete floor. A fireplace appeared in winter, then vanished again when it was no longer needed.
A bank of windows in the living room overlooked the District. I lived in the tallest building in the immediate area, so I had an unobstructed view of the city. On a clear night, I could see all the way to the City Square a few miles to the north.
My apartment had two bedrooms. One was a spare and had a queen size bed and a single nightstand. My bedroom was larger and had a king size bed and two nightstands. Both bedrooms had built in closets. The bathroom was across the hall from the main bedroom. It was luxurious, with a huge clawfoot bathtub and a separate shower. The tiles where a mixture of white and gray and it was my favorite room in the apartment.
After taking a long shower to rid myself of the green blood and other gross fluids, I lay down naked on my bed. There was no point in putting pajamas on, since they would only be replaced by my normal clothes come nightfall anyway. As always, the moment the sun rose, I became dead to the world. The last sensation I felt was Chesi’s scaly body curling up against my side.
I woke alert and fully dressed just after dark. Chesi was missing, so she’d already started her night without me. I felt like a roast beef sandwich for dinner and opened my fridge to see the makings of it waiting for me. Food from nearby restaurants could be delivered by skeletons at a mere wish. Pizza was nice on occasion, but it took too long to eat it. I usually only indulged in delivered food when the girls came to visit me.
Both Quilla and Marigold had left for work by the time I headed downstairs. The gypsy would be on her way to the warehouses in the business zone where the fortune tellers did their business. Lady Marigold would be with Jasper, heading for Pirate Cove. They would battle their rivals on the vast lake in the ship that had been named after my friend.
I decided to walk and headed for the entertainment zone. My decision turned out to be a big mistake. A bunch of mimes were standing outside their theater, silently harassing passersby into watching their performance. They spied me and rushed over to surround me. From their wide grins of delight, they still remembered what had happened last night. White gloved hands propelled me through the doors into their theater. My worst nightmare had come true. I was surrounded by the most hated beings in Nox and not even Wrath or my silver sword could get me out of this predicament.
Since it would be bad form to fight my way to freedom, I sank down onto a plush maroon velvet seat in the front row nearest to the stage. Oth
er patrons who had willingly come to watch the show stared at me in awe. I hunched down in my chair and tried to pretend I was somewhere far away. It quickly became obvious why the mimes had wanted me to attend the show. They were doing a reenactment of last night’s battle with the undead army.
It was a special type of torture to watch the silent entertainers reenact the fight. A short, chunky mime with blonde hair was playing my role. They all looked similar in their black and white striped shirts, black pants, black shoes and white gloves. All wore white greasepaint, but only some of them wore black lines that bisected their eyes and a dot of red lipstick. Some wore stupid little flat black hats. I hated the hats even more than I despised the rest of their costumes.
My impersonator was using props that didn’t look anything like my real weapons. One was a plastic toy sword and the other one looked like a broomstick with cardboard blades stuck to the ends. The blades had been painted silver. I shook my head that they’d created something so lame. I was sure I would have been able to come up with something better if I’d had to make myself a couple of weapons.
Chapter Four
MY EYES GLAZED OVER long before the show concluded an hour or so later. I was pretty sure I’d lost a few IQ points from watching the soundless, overexaggerated display. The crowd surged to its feet and clapped wildly when it finally ended. I politely nodded, accepted the kisses that were blown at me from the performers who were lined up on the stage, then hastily made for the exit. Frankly, I was glad to finally be able to escape.
I took a deep lungful of air when I exited from the building and blew it out in a long sigh. A hint of cotton candy and popcorn drifted over to me from the circuses that were further down the street. It wasn’t raining for once, but it was overcast.
“How did you enjoy the show?” a familiar voice said from the shadows before a carriage could appear to whisk me away. Quilla stepped out from an alley and into the light.
“You knew the mimes were going to put me through that hell!” I hissed in annoyance.
Short and slender, Quilla had olive skin, a bold nose, long curly brown hair and light brown eyes. She wore a headband with silver discs attached to it around her forehead. Her hands were covered in rings and bracelets jangled every time she moved. Multiple necklaces adorned her neck. Her dress was multicolored and multilayered, but her boots were brown and kind of plain. A black shawl rested around her shoulders. It kept slipping and she constantly had to pull it back into place. It was too hot for the shawl to be necessary, but it was part of her gypsy costume and she was stuck with it. “I saw a vision of you being waylaid by them on your patrol,” my bestie confessed with a twinkle of mischief in her eyes.
“Why didn’t you warn me?” I whined as we strolled away from the entertainment zone.
“What, and miss out on seeing your smiling, happy face when the show was over?” she joked. I glowered at her, but she continued on before I could respond. “The mimes needed to express their gratitude. They went through the trouble of coming up with a performance and it didn’t kill you to take an hour off work to watch it.”
I heaved a quiet sigh, knowing she was right. “It didn’t kill me, but it still sucked,” I said belligerently.
“Of course it sucked,” she agreed. “Mimes are the worst, but it’s your job to look out for their welfare. Sometimes, that includes having to sit through their hilariously bad performances.”
“I don’t remember that being a part of my job description,” I complained. “I’m just supposed to hunt evil monsters and bad guys, not put myself through that sort of torment.”
The seer shrugged and hiked her shawl back up when it slipped again. “Your ordeal is over now and you lived through it.” Her tone was far from sympathetic.
“Did you just turn up here to taunt me?” I asked her suspiciously. Usually, she spent her nights in her boutique. Sometimes, she was called away to do a private session at a client’s house.
“I was asked to do a private reading,” she confirmed. She was psychic and had plucked the thought from my head. “I asked the carriage to stop here on the way back,” she added with a smirk.
“Who did you do a reading for this time?” I asked. We’d left the mimes’ theater behind and were passing a concert hall where celebrity impersonators were putting on a show. I glanced up at the neon sign above the door that was surrounded by huge white lightbulbs. It was Madonna night, apparently. I could faintly hear a song I recognized being sung by someone who didn’t sound much like the real artist.
“She was an uncursed witch who lives in the Fae District,” Quilla replied. “She wanted to know if a love potion she was thinking of concocting would work on a wizard that she’s got a crush on.”
“Will it work?” I asked, curious despite myself.
“Nope. It’ll backfire horribly. I advised her against using the potion on him or on anyone else, but I’m pretty sure she’s going to ignore my advice.” Quilla was a true psychic, but few knew about the extent of her abilities. She was careful to keep the things she gleaned from her clients’ minds to herself. “If the Immortal Triumvirate found out about my talents, they’d bind me to them just like they did with you,” my bestie said in a near whisper as she picked up on my thought.
“Believe me, you don’t want that to happen,” I said with a shudder. All of the Night Cursed were bound to our leaders, but my bonds were a lot stronger than theirs were. I couldn’t remember the ceremony that they’d performed to link me to them. All I knew was that I had to obey their orders. If I hadn’t had a backstory that restricted me to only killing beings who I believed deserved it, they would have used me as their own personal executioner. I would have killed anyone they wanted me to, regardless of their guilt. As it was, I was regularly called on to hunt down people and creatures who broke the rules. Mostly, I just had to teach them a lesson. Sometimes, I was ordered to eradicate the evil monster or bad guy who had committed a crime that was punishable by death.
“It’s quiet in our District tonight,” Quilla noted when we reached the warehouse where her boutique was. “You should head to the Vampire District.”
“Why?” I asked.
She lifted one shoulder, then let it fall. “It’s just a hunch,” she replied, then entered the building and headed for her store.
It would be folly to ignore the hunch of a psychic fortune teller, so I turned to the curb to wait for a carriage to appear.
One of the many black carriages that serviced the citizens of Nox pulled up in front of me moments later. The skeleton driver’s head creaked as it turned to nod at me. I nodded back, then climbed inside. A horse shapeshifter was pulling the carriage. The black tattoo that marked all Night Cursed was on its front right leg just above its hoof. Shifters’ marks were usually on their palms, but this one didn’t have paws.
The werehorse broke into a smooth canter when the driver cracked its whip. It gleaned where I wanted to go from my mind as usual. The walking corpses had been given the most mundane jobs in the city. Some drove carriages and the rest tended the gardens, trees, yards and graveyards. They had to be given explicit orders by the Triumvirate in order to function. Armed skeletons couldn’t be tamed as easily. They tended to kill anyone on sight whenever they broke free from their cemeteries. At least they only attacked our kind and left the uncursed beings alone.
I sank back against the soft black seat as we headed to the Vampire District. The bloodsuckers lived to the west of the City of Night. Their territory was a confusing mass of twisting, dimly lit streets and alleys that were easy to become lost in. The buildings here were old and were made of sturdy brick or stone. The largest ones resembled fortresses from medieval Europe.
A river bisected Nox in four places, acting as a barrier between the four Districts. It was instant death to try to cross through the water. The water elementals drowned anyone who dared enter their domain. We clattered across a stone bridge, then pulled up on the verge of the leeches’ territory. I climbed out and Wrath be
gan to glow softly from being near the vampires. This always happened when we were in the areas where the undead dwelled.
Vampires melted into the shadows when they saw me coming. As the Guardian of Nox, I was safe enough as I patrolled the streets. I might not be able to use Wrath to kill the Night Cursed permanently, but my silver sword would put an end to them for the night. Even the uncursed gave me a wide berth. I was the only cursed being who was allowed to wound them, but only if they posed a threat to me or to others.
Chapter Five
MY FEET CARRIED ME randomly towards the larger and more opulent stone houses. Chesi arrived and wrapped herself around my shoulders. “Hey, girl,” I murmured, keeping my voice down so the vampires in the area couldn’t hear me. Their senses were enhanced and their hearing was exceptional.
Our heads whipped around when we heard a shout of pain. The noise bounced off the buildings and echoed through the streets, so I couldn’t tell exactly where it had come from. Chesi took hold of my chin with her tiny paw and pointed me in the right direction. Trusting her implicitly, I took off running.
When screams sounded in the vamps’ District, it usually meant someone was about to be eaten. The bloodsuckers went in search of victims from the other Districts and whisked them back to their lairs to feed on them. I could spend every night searching for unwilling blood donors, but even the leeches had to eat. As long as they didn’t torture their victims, or kidnap uncursed civilians to snack on, they tended to get away with their crimes.
Chesi unerringly guided me towards the sounds of a scuffle. I came to a small park to see four vampires embroiled in a fight. Thanks to my link to the unholy trinity, I could sense that they were uncursed. Three men were fighting a lone woman. All wore black clothing, which seemed to be the favored color of the undead.