Darkness of the Soul (48 page)

Past Parker’s worried and tortured expression, she could see what was hanging on to him, trying to drag him down. It was Drakanis, she could tell that, but something was wrong with him; his whole body seemed to be twisting, the flesh in flux as he changed into something else. His skin was turning dark and scaly, and his eyes were shifting colors through the whole spectrum, growing larger and catlike as they did.

Parker felt Sheila’s grip loosen, glanced down, and saw what was happening to Drakanis; his teeth were gone, replaced by razor-sharp metal, and horns were trying to burrow out of the flesh of his forehead.

“Quit looking at it and fucking pull me, you bitch! That’s
not
Mikey! Quit looking!”

He didn’t know how it was happening, but he knew the why of it; whatever bargain Drakanis had made, it meant the Beast got his body. Now it was doing to him what it had done to Woods’ old girlfriend, fighting for everything it was worth to hold on, to win. Parker didn’t intend to let that happen. As Sheila tore her gaze away from the monster below him and tightened her grip, he pushed with his foot, shoving himself up another foot and feeling the creature’s claws sinking into the meat of his thigh as it pulled itself closer.

Parker used the fresh leverage as best he could, knowing that this was the last chance. The clouds were breaking up, and that was good; the tremors and thunder were also slowing. Whatever the Beast or Drakanis, whichever one it was hanging off of him, had been doing was slowing down, probably because the change was taking up too much of its power. If it got back into the room though, it’d cast him aside like a toy, kill Sheila, and finish the job. Parker knew that if he couldn’t get it off of him, he was going to have to let go. Kill them both to make sure it was over. He didn’t want to have to end it that way, but shit, others had made the same sacrifice. He was ready to do it if he had to.

At the same time he kicked off with his free foot, the thing beneath him sank those metal teeth into the meat of his calf. Parker shrieked, and Sheila gave a final mighty yank. Adrenaline and the force of that last yank gave Parker the edge he needed, and he pistoned his foot down into the gaping maw that hung below. He felt bones crack and flesh split and then agony as the Beast’s claws ripped down from his thigh to his foot before falling away.

It screamed as it fell, a shriek of pure cheated rage that cut off suddenly only a moment after it started, punctuated by a dull thud. Parker didn’t stop to look, using the momentum gained as he pushed off the thing’s face to shove himself back through the window. He fell to the floor in a heap and crumpled at Sheila’s feet.

Epilogue
 

2:00 pm, February 12, 2000

Perez sat behind the giant oak desk that had once belonged to Captain Morrigan, drumming his fingers on the top and giving his best paternal scowl at the man sitting across from him. One thing that Parker had discovered was that when your office was mostly in shambles, still filled with crates of things to go out and things coming in, and a portrait of your predecessor was hanging behind you as though judging your every move, the paternal scowl was unlikely to work.

“Yes. That’s my story, and if you don’t buy it, then take my badge and let me go home. It’s time for another shot of morphine anyway.”

Parker’s voice was diminished a bit from his usual bellow, a concession to the miles of surgical tape that wound around his rib cage. The fact that he was up and walking around—
Well,
limping
around,
his mind interjected as he clenched a fist around the head of his cane—was something of a minor miracle. No reason to push his luck by blowing stitches or cracking ribs simply because he wanted to make a point.

He had been in that chair for the last three hours, once again giving his report of the incident at the Silverado. No, he did not know where Officer Taeda had gone. No, he did not know why the casino had been empty and most of the items inside destroyed. No, he did not know the whereabouts of former Detective Drakanis, and no, he could not explain the lack of a body. It was the same song and dance he had performed since he had first recovered consciousness—in the same hospital room that Officer Woods had been placed in—and one he fully expected to be performing for years yet.

The new captain seemed unimpressed by the sheer volume of things Parker did not have answers for; he simply sat, asking the same questions while busily picking at the corner of his blotter. The whole thing stank to Perez, and while he wasn’t entirely certain that anything illegal had gone on, he could still tell that
something
had happened, and Parker was stonewalling him.

“I don’t believe we will be needing the relinquishing of your badge, Vince. You know you are wanted around here, even though you can’t seem to keep the chain of command straight.”

Perez twitched one corner of his mouth into a half smile and then shook his head.

“I understand that you have been through quite an ordeal, and I appreciate that you are concerned for your associates, Officer Brokov in particular, but I still believe you could accomplish the most for her and the rest of us if you were to explain everything.”

Parker barked a laugh and then winced and scrubbed his ribs for a moment, hating the feel of the tape beneath his fingers and wishing he could just tear it off. The whispers in the back of his mind, those granted by Woods’ goddess, reminded him again that he could do so quite easily and with no fear of further injury, but Parker was a stubborn sort. He preferred the inconvenience and pain to the questions he’d have to answer if he walked in one morning and his injuries were just gone. His hand drifted to the front pocket. He withdrew a Camel and lit it one-handed, staring at his commanding officer through the smoke that bloomed.

“I’ve told you all I can, Captain. It’s in the file, all double stamped and everything. I don’t know what you’re looking for besides the facts… but I can’t give it to you.”

Perez sighed and pushed himself to his feet. He turned to face the portrait of Morrigan that hung behind him as though looking for counsel from it and began to tap one foot against the floor.

Wonder
just
how
many
tics
the
man
has,
Parker thought randomly.
And
how
many
of
them
have
cropped
up
since
this
whole
business.

“I am sure you realize the position I… 
we
 . . . are in. The Silverado, practically destroyed. Two officers and one former officer missing, another dead of a heart attack, and the station’s janitor dead with a department-issued bullet in his brain. Someone is going to need an explanation, sooner or later.”

Tapping his ash casually onto the floor, unconcerned with the former cleanliness of the room, Parker managed a shrug.

“Some things just don’t have an explanation, sir. Are we done here?”

Perez blew air threw his teeth, shaking his head without turning away from the portrait of Morrigan.

“I’m sure that statement will make a wonderful quote for the press, one of these days. But yes, you can go. For the moment.”

“Thank you, sir.” Parker began the laborious process of pulling himself out of the chair. He planted his cane first, then his good foot, and then his bad. Once again, he found himself thinking how lucky he was that Sheila had enough sense to wrap a tourniquet on it after she dragged him through the window; the bite that the Beast had taken out of his leg had nearly severed the artery, and while he had no doubt the presence that had guided him to that point would have ensured his survival, he didn’t particularly want to face the world one-legged. He was already a couple of fingers shy of what he’d started with and thought he could do without further modification to his body’s blueprint.

Once he was standing, he sketched a mock salute and then hauled his weight back out into the hallway, shaking his head as he went. As he lurched past the front desk, he tipped a little nod to Sheila; at first, she didn’t seem to realize who he was, a reaction he’d been getting from her more and more often, but finally she raised her hand and waved. Then she turned back to the call she was working on.

That
right
there
tells
you
it’s
almost
done,
he thought. He seemed to be the only one who really remembered anything that had gone on inside the hotel, or much of anything else. As far as Sheila was concerned, she had been dragged to the hotel for some reason while unconscious, had awoken to find Parker severely wounded, and had applied first aid after calling 911. The rest was just… gone.

Parker shook his head again and stepped out into the sunlight, taking a brief moment to let the warmth heat his face as he turned it upward. Part of him wished he could forget, but the lingering influence of whatever had spared him wouldn’t allow that. Probably couldn’t. He sighed, and turned his gaze to the Silverado, squinting at the building.

Sorry,
Mikey.
Miss
you.
Hope
you’re
with
them
now.