Bare Bones (27 page)

“Quiet.” He hit the ground twice more, this time putting his back into it. There were dents forming in the hard, red, rocky clay from the wrench. I held still, and kept my mouth shut, wincing and blinking every time the wrench came down. Finally he stopped, cocking his head to listen to something.

“You need to get out of here fast. I wouldn’t put it past him to come back to check on your dead body.”

It was my turn to lick my lips. “He’ll kill you if he doesn’t see my dead, skinned body in this basement.”

Lawton’s eyes glistened with tears. “I’ll lie and say I dumped your body elsewhere. I don’t care. I’m not killing, and I’m especially not killing a Templar. Gary might not care about our family, but I do. I’m not signing their death sentence just because he’s gone crazy.”

The adrenaline faded with his words and I slumped, once again feeling the pain of my head, my ribs, and the myriad cuts all over my limbs. He was going to let me go. I was hurt but I’d live. I only wished I had the same confidence that
he’d
live.

“I didn’t kill Brian Huang,” Lawton said, his eyes earnest as they met mine. “Gary did. Later that night he took my skin—Lawton King’s skin—and hid it from me, forcing me to wear Brian Huang. I’ve been Lawton for ten years. It was…it hurt to be someone else. And now this kid.”

“I believe you,” I told him. I did. This poor kid was trapped and scared.

“Gary put Brian Huang’s body in the closet to get back at me because I told him I needed to go home to Brian’s wife and to work the next day. They were expecting me. There was a special exhibit and I had to be there.”

Trapped, scared, and more than a little unhinged. Lawton was talking almost as though he’d
become
Brian Huang when he’d put the skin on. Was that what happened to skinwalkers? “It’s okay. I’m going to find him and put him away where he can’t hurt you or anyone else ever again.”

“You’ll never catch him.” Lawton’s voice was grim as he stalked over to a shelf of painting supplies and knocked it over, prying the lid off a gallon of red and dumping it on the floor. I watched as he smeared the red across the wrench, flinging drops of it onto the walls.

“I believe you, I really do, but you
had
to have killed someone in your past. A brother? A sister? Maybe you were really young and someone forced you to do it.”

“I didn’t kill anyone, not even Lawton King.” His voice was wooden as he splattered the red paint across the room. “I didn’t kill anyone. Sometimes when people die, and they’re real fresh, we can use their skins.”

Ew. But I believed him. There was something about this boy—when he was Brian Huang, as well as when he was this Strike guy—that made me believe him. He hadn’t killed anyone. He was just a kid caught in a bad situation with no way out.

That meant what I’d read about skinwalkers was wrong. They didn’t have to kill a family member to gain the ability. And I still had no idea how to stop them. Either the naming thing hadn’t worked or Gary Jarvett wasn’t really Gary Jarvett. I was at a loss on how to stop and apprehend these two—three if I counted the female running around north of the city as a vampire. But right now, the priority was getting out of this basement and to safety. And possibly getting some medical attention.

“There.” Lawton threw the wrench into the corner and dug in his pocket pulling out a cell phone—my cell phone. He placed it by the stairs and began to make his way up. “Better hurry. And leave us alone. I’ll try to convince Gary to leave the city. Just leave us alone.”

I saw him disappear up the steps and heard the door close. He’d left the light on, and I took immediate advantage of my chance at freedom, scooting back over to the pole and shimmying upward to again saw at the duct tape on my hands. Once they were free, I tore at the strips around my feet, scooping up the cell phone and the wrench as I headed up the stairs.

The wooden treads creaked and I winced with every noise, unsure that I truly was alone in the house. But when I eased open the door I heard nothing.

This truly
was
a flop house. Plywood covered the windows on the outside. The front door had obviously been pried open. Fixtures and plumbing were ripped from splintered cabinetry. The ceiling hung in tatters, the linoleum floor was chipped and scuffed. Rags were piled in a corner. I doubted the skinwalkers used this for more than a dumping ground. Gary seemed far too fastidious to set up home in such a place.

I wasn’t about to linger. I made my way to the rear of the house, climbing between the two-by-fours blocking the broken doorway and into an overgrown lawn with a dilapidated, rusty fence. Judging from the adjoining backyards, the whole block was vacant. I took advantage of that fact and climbed through the yards, breaking into a painful run once I’d hit the street.

After a few blocks the adrenaline had once again faded, leaving me ready to puke and pass out on the concrete. I sat against a brick wall covered with graffiti and pulled out my phone, eyeing the street signs and ignoring the curious stairs of the residents. There were messages—some from Tremelay and a few from Dario. I winced and glanced at the sky. It was close to dawn. I knew if I called Dario he wouldn’t be able to get here before the sun came up, and judging from his texts he was hard at work tracking the skinwalker vampire.

So I called Tremelay. The detective shot off a panicked, incomprehensible stream of questions the moment he answered.

“I’m okay,” I assured him. “Well, actually I have a concussion and some cuts, and probably bruised ribs, but I’m okay. Can you come pick me up?”

I gave him the cross streets, relieved that I wouldn’t have to walk all the way back to Fells Point. Not that I knew exactly how to get to my apartment, or to my car. I hoped my sword was still in my trunk. Although anyone who tried to steal Trusty would have gotten a nasty magical shock.

“I’ll be right there,” Tremelay promised.

There was one more person I’d need to talk to. Again I looked at the gray tint to the east and dialed Dario.

I
’VE GOT A
lead on your girl.” Dario’s voice was cheerful. I was about to change that.

“Let me know how you manage to subdue her because none of the stuff that crappy excuse for a supernatural expert Hakan Garza wrote about worked.”

There was a moment of poignant silence. “You okay?”

“Concussion. Bruised ribs. Cut up like a spiral-sliced ham. Other than that I’m okay.” Actually I felt better than I should have. Reaching up, I touched the lump on my head. It wasn’t huge and the skin wasn’t broken. I was beginning to think my unconscious state had been from whatever sleepy spell the skinwalkers used and not the board Lawton had smacked me with. But why hadn’t the sleepy spell rebounded on them? And why was I not dead?

They could have killed me. They
should
have killed me. Lawton was the only reason I was still alive and him letting me go could cost him his life.

“You shot them?” Dario asked. His voice was now gruff and harsh, like he was chewing gravel and ready to rip the head off of someone.

“The one that was attacking me, yeah. I unloaded the clip. Now, in all fairness to Garza, I didn’t shoot him in the neck. I was worried about missing and having the bullet kill someone on the other side of the wall. Still, it should have slowed him down. He didn’t even flinch.”

Dario swore. “How physically strong were they? If the humans are greater than human strength, then I’m wondering how powerful this vampire one is going to be.”

Incredible Hulk with fangs? “This guy was a skinny, tall kid and he managed to take me down. I think I would have held my own if the other one hadn’t hit me in the head with a board. Either way, you might want backup.”

He grunted and I wasn’t sure whether my suggestion offended his ego or he was considering how much backup to bring. “Sure you’re okay?”

Awww. He was worried about me. “No. I need a box of cannoli and a good bottle of Chianti right now. When are you coming home?”

I practically heard his smile. “As soon as I catch this girl of yours. We’ve finally got the rogue situation under control. The only ones left alive are harmless and we definitely sent a message about hunting on the fringes of our territory.”

I thought about the two boys, how Lawton seemed trapped in his circumstances, how Gary didn’t care about anyone but himself. Which was this girl? And did I want to risk vampire lives to find out?

No, I didn’t.

“If she’s anything like these other two skinwalkers, then don’t worry about bringing her in alive.”

“Didn’t know you wanted her alive.” Dario’s voice once again was amused. “But of course you wanted her alive. You’re a Templar and she needs to face human justice.”

If the past month had taught me anything, it was that human justice was flawed and sometimes it needed to come another way. “I just had my rear end handed to me by these two. Don’t underestimate her, and if it looks like she might get away, I’d rather she be dead.”

She’d killed two vampires and who knows how many people. I couldn’t let her go free to continue killing.

“Okay. It’s coming on dawn soon, but I’ll get right on it tomorrow night. Hopefully I’ll be back before sunup.”

I hoped so. Hanging up with Dario, I saw Tremelay’s sedan pull in. He jumped from the car and raced toward me, face full of concern.

“Ainsworth! You look like a crime scene photo. You sure you’re okay?”

I repeated my list of injuries and waited while he checked my head and various cuts.

“What the hell happened?” The detective plopped down beside me, handing me a much needed bottle of water and a couple of aspirin.

I swallowed the pills and gulped half the contents of the bottle before replying. “I was rooting through the bags in the back room when Gary, the one impersonating Travis Dawson, cornered me. None of Garza’s techniques worked. The guy attacked me with a knife, which may or may not have been coming out of his finger, and when the other one came in, I knew I was in trouble. So I pulled out your gun. Unloaded it in Gary’s chest and it didn’t do squat. Next thing I know I’m on the ground, unconscious, then waking up in the basement of an abandoned house.”

“They didn’t kill you?” Tremelay asked, incredulous.

Obviously not. “Yeah. I know. Gary told Lawton to kill me, but the kid let me go. I’m afraid he’s going to pay for that act of charity with his life.”

The detective rubbed his face in his hands. “I lost sight of you when the band broke, and when the gunshots went off the crowd surged for the door. It was a damned mob. By the time I got free and went looking for you, all I found was the empty gun and shells. Oh, and blood splatter.”

He must have thought the worst. Without thinking, I wrapped my arm around him and gave him a hug, resting my head on his shoulder.

“I had to preserve it all as a crime scene, report you as a possible victim. I’m so sorry, but I truly thought it was going to be your skinned body we found next.” Tremelay’s voice wavered and I hugged him tighter, even though the movement was killing my poor ribs.

“I’m fine. I’ve got no idea where these two skinwalkers are, but I’m fine.”

He sighed and pulled away. “Do you need to go to the hospital? Stitches? X-rays? How hard did that kid hit you on the head?”

I felt the bump again, finding a second one from where I’d smacked the wall when Gary had thrown me. “Not that hard. I don’t think I need stitches, and I’m pretty sure my ribs are just bruised. Honestly I just want a shower and a nap.”

Tremelay grimaced. “It might be a few hours before that happens. I need you to come down to the police station.”

I stared at him with huge eyes. He had to be joking. I’d had the crap beaten out of me, seriously thought I was a goner, and he needed me to go to the station? “Why?”

He squirmed. “Because the gun was registered to me. I told them I’d given it to you. You fired the entire clip and there was blood everywhere.”

“At least half of that blood was mine,” I retorted.

“I reported you as missing, possibly taken by the skinner.”

Oh. Yeah. I was the victim. The only known survivor. Of course they wanted me to come in. “Can’t my statement wait until I’ve cleaned up a bit and taken a nap?”

The detective squirmed again. “No. It’s not just a statement. They’re considering charging you with firing a weapon in a public place.”

He had to be joking. He
must
be joking.

“If it had been me, I still would have needed to fill out a stack of reports to justify every bullet fired,” he explained, his voice pleading with me to be cooperative. “I want them to see you injured, not all cleaned up and rested. I want the reporting officer to see you and know you were fearing for your life. That plus your very valuable information on the skinner case should make all of this go away.”

I was never carrying a gun again. This was total bullshit. Supernatural baddies killing innocent people, and I was going to be hung out to dry for trying to stop them. With a gun. None of this would have happened if I had gotten my sword past the girl at the door. I still would have wound up duct-taped in the basement of an abandoned house, but at least I wouldn’t be facing jail time.

“Okay. Let’s get this over with.”

Tremelay helped me to my feet. I made sure I shuffled to his car like a B-movie zombie, exaggerating every ache and pain. I knew it wasn’t his fault, but someone needed to feel guilty about this whole thing.

This time it was my turn in the hot seat of the interview room. Five officers were squashed with me in the tiny space. I was pretty sure that was against regulations as well as the fire code, but there seemed to be a lot of interest in Tremelay’s occult expert who’d gotten nabbed by the skinner and managed to walk away with her skin mostly intact.

The five officers looked carefully at me. My pants were shredded and stained with blood. My arms had diagonal cuts all over them. I took a few shallow breaths and tried to look miserable. It wasn’t a stretch, even for someone with my poor acting ability. Once again I recited my story, carefully omitting the rebound spell and any magical details that would make me look like a crazy. Although I guess I could explain it all as confusion from my whack on the head.