Brothers of Chaos (The Unstoppable Titans Book 1) (16 page)

“How do you
know?”

Michael only
smiled. They were standing in David’s kitchen, and the house was quiet, but the
music had been blaring just minutes before. There were beer cans and bottles
all over the floor. A few people were passed out here and there. The
Stephanie-thing didn’t even want to know what she had missed.

Les was
sitting on the couch, eating pizza nervously. The impostor wondered what
Michael wanted with Owen. She hoped Michael didn’t want to kill him.

She wanted
to do that herself.

“Get away
from me,” she heard Les say from the living room.

A small
gray-and-white tabby was rubbing itself against his leg.

*
 
*
 
*

Chris parked
as far away from the other cars as he could; in case he needed to make a hasty
exit, he had a nice, clear path onto University Drive. Sitting there in his
Camaro on this cold, lonely night in the parking lot of Moby’s Diner reminded
him of when he’d done the same thing four years ago.

His business
venture he had embarked on with his old friend Shawn Haggerty had gone bust.
The two of them had invested a lot of money into developing an independent
production company for young filmmakers. All had been great, and then, for no apparent
reason, Shawn had gotten greedy and wanted a higher stake in the shares and
more power over their company.

It all
snowballed from there: The filmmakers Chris had been trying to nurture had lost
faith in their producers after witnessing so many disputes between them.
Everything that happened after didn’t have to happen, either. Chris had chosen
to punish himself for making such bad decisions—for trusting someone with his
dream.

Yes, it had
been his dream to start the company, but with Shawn’s enthusiasm for
moviemaking being as strong as Chris’s, he had decided to take on a partner.

And so Chris
had sat in this very parking lot not long after, having been forced to
foreclose on his house, thinking about what to do with his life. He’d had no
one to turn to. His parents had died in their sleep years before Chris had
started the company. After all this time, he still blamed himself for his
parents’ deaths, even though he knew he shouldn’t. He had almost died himself,
but he had noticed the gas from the stove filling the house first…

After their
deaths, he’d inherited the house, which hadn’t been fully paid off. He had no
family to take him in after.

Well, at
least, not before the Unstoppable Titans. They were his family now, and he had
to protect them the way he couldn’t protect his parents. He had to help
Stephanie. The answer to the venom puzzle was inside the diner. Daniel could
create a cure if he could just get a sample, right? Chris truly believed it was
possible. He had to get that leech away from innocent bystanders and lure it to
a place where the Titans could face it.

And after
they got the sample, they could kill the creature.

He pulled
out his cell phone and called the others.

“I’m going
in,” Chris said.

“All right,”
said Alyssa. “Be careful. Just scope it out and report back. I really wish we
could meet up first.”

“I don’t
want to risk it, just in case I’m being followed or something, but I promise
I’ll just walk in to see if it’s in there. No confrontation.”

Chris hoped
that would reassure Alyssa.

“Okay. Be
safe, babe,” she said, sounding a little better.

Chris hung
up and put the phone in his pocket (he would never leave it in his car again).
He jumped out in one quick flourish and made his way quickly across the parking
lot and into the restaurant.

It wasn’t
too crowded tonight. Chris’s heart raced; he could see nearly all of the
restaurant from where he stood, and any of the dozen people (mostly senior
citizens) sitting at the tables, eating his or her meals, could be the
shape-shifting creature.

Chris
surveyed the non-smoking area on his left first since it was closer: There were
two silver-haired couples, enjoying their assortment of fried foods and mashed
potatoes. Neither of these couples noticed Chris staring at them.

It would
probably be alone, he thought.

He surveyed
the smoking area straight ahead now: There was a middle-aged couple with a
toddler, having a heated discussion. The toddler, a little girl, was eating
macaroni and cheese, her eyes moving from her mother to her father as if she
were watching a tennis match.

Then there
was an African-American girl sitting alone at a booth in the back; she wasn’t
eating anything but had a glass of water in front of her. Some of her long dark
hair was covering the left side of her face.

There was something
familiar about the girl, but Chris couldn’t place it right away. Then, after a
moment, he realized what it was: She was wearing the same pink shirt he had
seen the fake Stephanie wearing earlier:
Boys
are
Stoopid
.

At that
moment, the girl looked straight at him, a smile forming on her face.

On its face.

It was here,
after all, and it had assumed a different identity. Chris made his way over to
its table. He wasn’t quite sure how this creature was able to change its form,
but he did know one of the people whose appearance it had assumed was dead, and
another was in a coma. That didn’t bode well for the model of its current form.

Chris slid
down into the booth, across from the girl, its eye never leaving his as he did
so.

“Who are you
supposed to be now?” Chris asked.

“Some girl I
ran into on the way here,” it said.

“Where is
she? Did you kill her?”

“Maybe,
maybe not. Killing isn’t required to do this”—it waved at its face with one
hand—“but sometimes I get carried away when I’m really hungry; I just can’t
stop eating. You know what I mean?”

Chris shook
his head and said, “No, I’m afraid I don’t.” He was vaguely aware he was
grinding his teeth. “What do you want?”

“I want the
one who did this to me,” it said as it lifted some hair from its face, revealing
a damaged left eye. The socket was nothing but a dark, ugly wound. “I can never
fix this, no matter who I change into.”

“Well,
that’s not going to happen,” Chris said, now grinning himself. “How about you
let me put you out of your misery so you won’t have to worry about it anymore?”

“Not even if
this poor girl’s life depended on it?” it asked, waving toward its face again.
“She was alive when I left her.”

Chris
straightened up. He was pretty sure this was a trick, and his policy on
hostages (a controversial policy between him and Owen) was pretty strict,
though this would be the first time he would get to enforce it.

“No deal,”
he said.

The
girl-thing narrowed its one good eye at him; it clearly hadn’t expected that
response. Chris studied it for a moment. It didn’t look like anyone he
recognized, and there was a good chance whoever it was impersonating was long
dead.

“I thought
it was your job to protect people,” the thing said, and then its face slowly
morphed into that of Stephanie’s. “Isn’t that why you’ve killed so many of my
kind?”

“We kill
your kind because you’re monsters.”

“Really? How
do you define ‘monster’?” it asked as it turned back into the unidentified
girl.

Chris opened
his mouth to respond, then shut it abruptly. He wasn’t sure what to say; he’d
been completely blindsided. Here he was, talking to a shape-shifting
vampire-thing, and now it was questioning him about his worldviews.

“Besides,”
the impostor continued, “it’s not really me you need to worry about, but him.”

“Who?” Chris
asked, but the impostor sealed its lips, frustrating him beyond belief. “What
are you?”

“To be
honest, I don’t know,” it said, leaning forward, “but I hope to find out very
soon.”

“What do you
mean by that?”

The impostor
turned around to flag down a waitress, then turned back to Chris. “When I ran
into your friend the other night, he said I was a vampire. I pretended not to
know what a vampire was just to mess with him—I know everything Eric knew. But
it got me thinking: I don’t know what I am. I’m like a vampire, but I know I’m
not. I’m something else; I’ve seen my true form and it’s not pretty.

“The one I
told you about earlier knows what I am, but he won’t tell me until he gets what
he wants, and what he wants is Owen.”

The waitress
came over and refilled its glass with water.

“What does
he want with Owen?” Chris asked nervously.

“I don’t
know, but I don’t think it’s good.”

“What makes
you think we’ll agree to this?” Chris said incredulously. “It’s insane.”

“Because of
her,” it replied, pointing to its face again. “She’s alive and waiting to be
saved. It’s just a little exchange. Owen for the girl.”

“What did
you do to Stephanie?”

It drank all
the water in the glass, and then said, “I don’t know.”

“Is she
going to die?”

“I don’t
know,” the impostor repeated. “She’s the first one to get away from me. Well,
her and you.”

With that,
the creature left the restaurant. Chris remained seated with his thoughts.

*
 
*
 
*

Chris had
told the other Titans about his meeting with the creature in the diner. Alyssa
was dismayed at the news they’d been tricked. She immediately pulled out her
cell phone and called David to see if he was okay. There was no answer, so she
texted him.

She did not
get an immediate response.

Setting the
phone on her dresser, she changed out of her party clothes. She threw the
stilettos across the room like they were garbage. A few minutes later, she saw
her phone blinking, alerting her to a text message. She opened the phone and
read the message:
David’s dead. I ate
his brains for dinner. LOL

Chris parked in the lot across
the alley where the impostor hid, according to the palm tracker he held in his
hand. He had slipped a few capsules into the creature’s water, hoping it would
drink them. (The capsules had been put in the glove compartment a long time
ago, and then simply forgotten.) Alyssa pulled in next to Chris; Owen was with
her. They got out and met at the front of the vehicles. All three of them wore
matching black hoodies and blue jeans.

“We left
Daniel at home,” said Alyssa. “He’s completely gone.”

“Never let
him drink again,” said Chris.

“Noted,” she
said morosely. She was clearly dazed by David’s death.

“So, what’s
the plan?” Owen asked.

“According
to the tracker, it’s just standing in the alley somewhere, probably sleeping,
or feeding on that girl, if she’s in there. Are we loaded?”

Owen and
Alyssa lifted their hoodies to reveal a few pistols and Busters clipped to
their belts. Owen also had his crossbow, which he pulled out of the SUV and
draped over his shoulder.

“So I can
take out its other eye, if I get the chance,” he said with a smirk.

Alyssa
handed Chris a pistol of his own.

“Let’s go
in,” Chris said. “And be careful. The shape-shifter told me about someone he’s
working with. It might have been a lie, but keep your eyes open anyway.”

The three of
them crossed the street, Chris in the lead with the tracker in front of him.
The narrow alley was between two buildings—a bank and a boutique. There was a
little stream of dirty water running down the center of the alley.

They all
kept their eyes peeled, constantly looking around them. There was a dumpster up
ahead on their left, and according to Chris, that’s where the signal came from.

The trio
continued onward slowly.

*
 
*
 
*

Alyssa’s
heart was racing. She still couldn’t believe David was dead. She couldn’t get
the reply message out of her mind. Chris had advised her against going over to
David’s house to check on him. It drove her crazy not knowing for sure. But
there would be time for that later, she supposed.

That feeling
of dread, the feeling she was going to die, overwhelmed her now. It threatened
to overload her senses and paralyze her.

A cat ran by
her foot, heading toward the direction in which the three of them had entered
the alley. Alyssa stopped for a moment to watch it, turning her back on Owen
and Chris. The cat looked familiar: It was a gray-and-white tabby. Just like
Toby—David’s cat.

And then
Alyssa noticed the collar around the cat’s neck. It
was
Toby.

What was he
doing here?

She started
to follow the cat without even realizing it. Suddenly it hit Alyssa: They were
walking into a trap. David’s murderer was here.

She turned
to warn the others when something from above grabbed her throat—it was a hand.
She tried to scream, but couldn’t. She tried to point her pistol at it, but
another hand grabbed it out of hers. Alyssa tried to see who or what it was
that had grabbed her, but all she could see was the top of its head.

Whatever it
was, it had red shoulder-length hair and was gripping a fire-escape ladder with
its feet, the better to free up its hands, which were grasping Alyssa very
tightly by the throat, stifling her cry for help.

*
 
*
 
*

Owen and
Chris studied the tracker closely now. The dot on the display screen was
flashing, the distance from the dot reading five feet.

Chris put
the tracker in his jacket pocket and aimed his gun. He nodded to Owen, then
tipped his hand to Alyssa, not bothering to look back to see if she got the
gesture to move forward. When they got to the green dumpster, they saw the lid
was closed. Chris opened it quickly; he and Owen ganged up on it, pointing
their weapons inside.

There was a
body inside, but it wasn’t the girl Chris had talked to at the diner. It was
Eric; the thing had reverted back to that form. It appeared to be dead. Its
remaining eye was wide open.

Chris gave
Owen a quizzical look, then glanced back at Alyssa only to find she wasn’t
there. “Oh, crap!”

Owen
noticed, also. The two of them started to backtrack, looking high and low.
There were a few trashcans and boxes in the alley, but Alyssa was nowhere to be
found.

“Oh, god,”
Chris repeated over and over.

Owen turned
around again, back toward the dumpster, and saw someone standing just beyond
it. No, not just one person.

There were
two people.

Chris turned
and saw them, too. One of the figures was tall and skinny; the other had long
brown hair and was being held at arm’s length by the throat.

It was
Alyssa.

“Hey, guys,”
said the stranger.

Chris and
Owen started walking toward them.

“Who are
you?” Chris asked.

“That’s not
important,” said the stranger. “I’m going to keep this short. I want you”—he
pointed at Owen—“to come with me now. If you don’t, I’m going to kill this
chick.”

Chris shook
with fear. There was no way he could go through with his stand on hostage
negotiation now, not when it was Alyssa who was the hostage.

Apparently
Owen agreed. He looked at Chris, gave him a nod, then said, “I can handle
myself.”

*
 
*
 
*

Owen slung
his crossbow over his shoulder, and then walked toward the stranger, hands up
to show he posed no threat. As he drew closer to them, the stranger slowly let
Alyssa go. She stood there for a moment, looking back and forth between him and
Owen, then she started to run back to Chris. Owen gave her his crossbow. She
took it without a word. That’s what he loved about her: She was brave.

“I feel like
we’ve met before,” Owen said to the redhead.

“We did,”
said the stranger. “I’ve been looking for you, my friend.”

“What for?”

The stranger
looked confused. “You don’t remember our conversation? I asked for your help and
you turned me down. You can still change your mind. I have the answers to all
your questions.”

Now Owen
looked confused. “What questions?”

“I can tell
you where your mother is. I felt how much you wanted to know that.”

Slowly but
surely, Owen started to remember a conversation about his mother. And about the
orb.

Suddenly the
stranger reached out and grabbed him. Owen grabbed the guy’s arm, thinking he
could easily break away from his grip, but he found the stranger was
surprisingly strong. All Owen could do now was punch him square in the chest,
sending him flying a few feet in the air.

The stranger
bounced off the wall and came running back at Owen, ramming him. Owen grabbed
the redhead and spun him around while pinning his arm behind him.

“What do you
want?” Owen asked, pulling the stranger’s arm farther behind him.

“I just need
your help with something,” the redhead said with a laugh. “No big deal.”

“You tried
to kill my friend. Don’t tell me it’s no big deal.”

Owen was
angrier than he thought possible. He twisted the kid’s arm, hoping to get a
grunt of pain from him. The redhead didn’t oblige. Owen couldn’t see his face,
which was facing away, but he figured the boy was wearing a smug smile, which
reminded Owen of his encounter with Eric. That made him even angrier, so he
grabbed the back of the redhead’s shirt and threw him into the wall as hard as
he could. The brick wall cracked.

*
 
*
 
*

Alyssa
almost reached Chris, but something jumped out of the dumpster and landed right
behind him. He heard it land on the ground, making a loud splash in the garbage
water that soaked the alley. Alyssa came to a dead stop, which confirmed to
Chris that he was in trouble.

He spun
around when Alyssa screamed and saw Eric as he’d never seen him before. He was
significantly taller now; his torso stretched before Chris’s eyes. Chris could
see his stomach because the pink shirt now appeared too small. But that wasn’t
all: Eric’s arms were longer, too. And his neck was starting to stretch.

His eyes
were now a fierce yellow and his skin was starting to turn tar black. It no
longer looked like Eric; it appeared to be something else entirely, something
Chris had only seen once before in a horror movie.

This was its
true form.

Alyssa
grabbed Chris and pulled him away from the monstrosity as it swiped its arm at
him. Chris felt the air swish past him as the claw just missed tearing his face
off. He aimed his gun at the creature and squeezed off a shot, but he missed.

The monster
grabbed the dumpster, lifted it off the ground with little effort, and then
swung at Chris, knocking the gun out of his hand. The creature towered over him
now, and was just about to swing the dumpster again when something shot into
its right eye. It was a silver arrow. Chris spun around and saw Alyssa standing
there with Owen’s crossbow in her hands.

Owen was
running toward them now. “Sorry I’m late!” he yelled as he approached.

At the sound
of his voice, the creature blindly tossed the dumpster in Owen’s direction. It
toppled, end over end, down the alley. Owen dove out of its path as it came to
rest in the middle of the alley.

“No
problem,” said Chris. “Shoot another one into its heart so we can get the hell
out of here.”

Owen took
the crossbow from Alyssa and aimed it at the creature, but before he could shoot,
something yanked Alyssa violently off the ground.

*
 
*
 
*

Chris was
screaming now. It was a long, horrible scream. Owen stood frozen, eyes wide, as
blood splashed across his face and clothes. Chris was still screaming, though
he too was covered in blood.

The stranger
had thrown Alyssa against a wall in one quick, effortless motion, and she lay
on the ground, her eyes open and unseeing. Chris was still screaming as Owen
pulled him away from the scene. They were running back to the end of the alley
where they had entered.

Owen
couldn’t think right now. All he wanted to do was get away from here, out of
the alley. Away from the stranger. He was only faintly aware of Chris’s
continued wailing.

Suddenly he
was aware of something else. A loud thud sounded from behind them. Owen didn’t
look back but up, where he saw the dumpster flying over their heads. It landed
hard in front of them, blocking their path.

Chris
finally stopped screaming and looked back to see the stranger charging them. He
was going to crush them against the dumpster. Just before impact, though, Owen
grabbed Chris by the collar of his hoodie, and they leaped high into the air.
The stranger slammed into the dumpster, causing it to slide along the ground.

Owen and
Chris were still in the air, but Owen had jumped at an angle, over and away
from the dumpster. The dumpster finally came to rest right under them, and they
fell into it. Owen nearly felt like giving up; Alyssa was dead, and he felt
completely out of energy now. It was like he had died with her.

Just then a
hand grabbed his shoulder. He thought it was the stranger, and reached for the
hand to push it away, but it turned out to be Chris, who had already climbed
out. He was trying to pull Owen out of the dumpster as well.

Owen
followed just as the stranger began running down the alley toward them. Owen
and Chris tore down the alley, away from the thing that killed Alyssa. All of
their courage was gone. Owen couldn’t believe he was running away, couldn’t
stop his feet from moving. He just wanted to get away.

Away from
the thing that killed his friend.

“Watch out!”
Chris screamed.

He was
looking over his shoulder. Owen looked, too, and saw the dumpster flying toward
them again. Instead of saying anything, Owen stopped running, lunged into the
air, grabbed the dumpster, and launched it back toward the stranger.

Owen landed
on the ground just as the dumpster fell on the guy who had thrown it at them.
Mesmerized for a moment about what he’d just done, Owen didn’t realize Chris
was staring, wide-eyed, at him.

The dumpster
sat silently in the middle of the alley where the stranger had been standing a
moment before. And then it started to move.

“Come on,”
said Chris, and the two of them ran across the street to the parking lot. “My
car.”

But Owen ran
to Alyssa’s SUV.

“What are
you doing?” Chris screamed.

Owen wasn’t
paying attention. Instead, he punched out the driver’s-side window and the back
window, grabbed the frames of the doors, then lifted the vehicle into the air.
To him, it gave only the slightest resistance. He spun around a few times with
the SUV in his hands, and then launched it toward the alley. The red-haired
monster approached the opening of the alley, just about to cross the street,
when the vehicle struck him and exploded. The windows of the bank and boutique
blew out at once.

Car alarms
went off. A few dogs started barking. And people were watching.

“Owen, we
have to go,” Chris said, but Owen wasn’t paying attention. He was staring at
the explosion he just caused. At the vehicle he’d just thrown across the
street. He wasn’t aware until this very moment he was capable of such feats. He
didn’t know what came over him. He looked to Chris, who was staring back at
him, jaw dropped.

“Get in,” he
whispered to Owen.

He jumped
into Chris’s Camaro, and the two of them sped away from the scene.

*
 
*
 
*

Daniel
nearly jumped out of his skin when the front door slammed open. He had fallen
asleep on the couch, a screwdriver in his hand. And now he was wide awake, his
face numb from liquor, and his head throbbing.