Nightlife (24 page)

There was a time in every monster's life to take stock. You had to decide where you were, how you got there, and how to get back on track. I knew where I was and I knew how to get back. That was the easy part. The more difficult task was admitting just how I'd managed to get my ass in that sling to begin with. Ego. My big fat ego. I'd played when I should've been deadly serious. I'd overestimated my allies and, worse, underestimated my opponents. In retrospect I should've handled it all myself. I should've separated them and taken them out one by one. No warning, no taunts. It would've been quick and efficient.

But not nearly as much fun.

Ah, well, every experience is a learning one. I was still the baddest son of a bitch around. I didn't see any reason that had to change. I also didn't see any reason to share the recent debacle with the Auphe. After the warning they'd given me, they would not be amused, and when the Auphe weren't amused, no one was. I dumped my appropriated car several blocks away and walked the rest of the way to the Auphe's warehouse. It was considerably changed from the last time I'd seen it. All the debris had been pushed and stacked against the walls to clear the floor, which now virtually bubbled with a choking red rage. You could see the shimmer of it in the air like heat rising from a blacktop road. I stood for an exhilarating moment and basked in the spine-shivering pleasure of it. Good stuff.

Reluctantly pulling myself away from the maelstrom of dark emotions, I went over to check out the situation against the far wall. A human was raising his voice to an Auphe. Interesting. If entrails were going to be flying, I wanted to be in on it. The human turned his head toward me as I walked up and I saw a face I recognized. Imagine that—it was my buddy from the bar. Samuel. I'd thought he'd seemed more good-natured than your average New Yorker. Apparently I wasn't the only hired help on the scene. Clever Auphe. No one did sneaky better than they.

"Sammy." I grinned happily. "Well, color me surprised. You have some serious acting chops, pal. Oscar quality, truly."

His skin bleached slightly, turning an ashy gray, as he took me in. "Your eyes… Jesus."

Oh, fine. He could look at an Auphe without flinching, but my sparkling silver eyes did him in? That hurt my feelings, it honestly did. Samuel looked away from me quickly and I decided that maybe it was less aversion and more guilt that was etched on his face. "So, I'm curious," I drawled, and draped an arm over his shoulders. "The bosses here hired you to keep tabs on Cal in his last days. That's pretty obvious." Not that they had told yours truly about it, closemouthed bastards. "My question is, what did you get out of it? What'd you get in trade for the big chunk of your soul, huh? Something bright and shiny?"

I could feel his flesh crawl under my arm as he shook me off. Steadfastly ignoring me, he addressed the bored Auphe that crouched before him. I could see by the dull glaze over its scarlet eyes that it was more than half asleep and not energetic enough for any mutilation. Disappointing. "You said you'd heal my brother. I did what you wanted. It's time for you to keep your half of the bargain, before it's too late."

Damn, he was nothing but a big teddy bear. A sick brother. Did it get more heartwarming than that? I ask you. Yeah, Samuel was a real philanthropist. Too bad that was coupled with the brainpower of a rock. The Auphe heal? Not likely. Hell, if peckish enough, they would eat their own wounded. They had no inclination and no talent in the healing field, but they did have an affinity for lies: little white ones, big black ones, and all shades in between.

This particular Auphe had a gleeful glint behind his sleepiness that demonstrated how much he'd enjoyed dangling Samuel on a string. However, dangling time had to be nearly over. They would have no further need of the guitar player now—but I might. As I was thinking that over, the Auphe yawned, its plush velour tongue flexing behind several rows of metallic teeth. It was the last straw for Samuel. Dark hands seized the Auphe by the narrow shoulders and shook hard. "You bastard, you promised. You swore."

Have you ever noticed how people, humans, tend to revert to children in times of great stress? It's not necessarily that they want someone to take responsibility or to take care of them. And it's not that they lose the capacity to understand what's going on. What they do lose is the knowledge that life isn't fair. As their life is falling apart around them, they absolutely refuse to believe it's happening, right down to the last second. They start life as a child; they end life as a child.

It's damn near poetic.

The Auphe didn't seem to appreciate the poetry of it, though. Barbed claws circled Samuel's wrists and squeezed until blood flowed freely. "Such a strong-willed sheep. So very disobedient. What shall we do with a sheep who dares to question his shepherd?" He was waking up now, red eyes flaming torpidly to life. He didn't look especially hungry, but who among us is above a snack or two out of pure boredom? It looked like my pal Sammy was about to get sheared or eaten. Neither would leave him functioning. Too bad for Sammy. If I hadn't needed him, I would've enjoyed my ringside seat.

"Boss," I said mildly. "Mind if I have him for a while? I need him to do something for me."

The narrow face sharpened in vulpine annoyance as the Auphe hissed several words that were jagged with edges that cut the air like a rusty razor. They were words that no human would understand, although simply hearing them would give him a fierce headache. I answered back in the same language, more or less, and outlined what I wanted. It was hard to wrap a human tongue around the fifteen vowels and more than a hundred consonants, but I made do. With a peeved snort through moist nostril slits, my boss turned Samuel loose and loped off, licking the blood from his long multijointed fingers as he went. Mmmm. Finger-licking good, I thought wistfully.

Turning back to Samuel, I slipped a hand into his pocket and deftly removed his wallet. There was something I wanted to check. Ignoring his snarled curse, I straight-armed him and rifled through the contents. I stopped at several family photos and gave a self-satisfied smirk to myself. That explained it. That explained quite a lot. "I thought you looked oddly familiar." I tossed the wallet back to him and smiled placidly. "Seeing you with new eyes and all." I walked over to a wooden crate and sat down, my hands casually cupping a knee. "Did you know I can sing? Well, not so much sing as… never mind. You'll see soon enough. Let's get down to it, Sam-I-am. I need your band's sound system and I need you to bring it here. Tomorrow night."

"What the hell makes you think I'll do anything you say?" he spit, clenching his wallet tightly in one hand.

"A sick brother, huh?" I kicked a heel against the crate. "So very, very sick. It's sad. Sad for you… sad for his wife. Sad for his precious red-haired little girl. Sweet Georgie Porgie, does she know what her uncle Sammy is up to? I wonder."

Of course she did, even though it was a fair assumption that he'd never told her. That's what she did; that's what she was. It went a long way toward explaining why she'd lied to Niko and Cal and why she'd cried. It had to be a confusing situation for anyone, even a petite psychic who had her finger on the pulse of the universe. It came with the job. Finding lost dogs was a good day; your father dying, your uncle crossing a line, betraying your friends… that was a bad day. What was the worst day? She'd find out. I hadn't met a psychic yet who'd led a long and happy life. Long and miserable, yes. Long and happy… never. Wasn't part of the great game of life. Still, I had the feeling she would do her best to rise above it. She would strive to not let it destroy her, strive always to serve the greater good.

How nauseating can you get?

"Georgina." Samuel said her name softly. He didn't say "Stay away from her," or "Leave her out of this," none of the usual cliches. I guess, facing me, facing the Auphe, he had to know that would be pretty pointless. Staring at me, he demanded without emotion, "Can they heal him? Can those things heal my brother?"

"Nope." I stood, rocked on my heels, and continued cheerfully, "They couldn't even if they wanted to. As far as the Auphe are concerned, if you're sick, you either get better or you die. That's the sum total of their medical knowledge." I tilted my head as his face spasmed. "But all is not lost, Samuel. You can still save someone. You can save your Chatty Cathy niece. I know where she lives, where she goes to school, her favorite ice-cream shop. It'd be interesting to see how long her Pollyanna attitude would last with me playing 'cats in the cradle' with her intestines."

Predictably enough, he lunged at me, his hands on my throat with a strength borne of pure desperation. I let him squeeze for a while until spots darted across my vision. It was good for him, gave him hope. It's more amusing to crush someone when he thinks he still has a chance. The hopeless are massively boring. They lie there and cry or curl up in a catatonic fetal ball. Where's the sport in that? He growled and tightened his choking grip on me.

Tiring of the game, I peeled back his hands, dislocating one of his fingers in the process. "Oh, hey, look at that. Here, let Mommy make it all better." Holding on to his hand despite his efforts to break free, I yanked the finger back into place with a pleasing crunch of bone. I could've been quicker about it, it's true, but his complete lack of gratitude was still uncalled for. Balling up his wounded hand, he cradled it against his chest and glared with an unparalleled fury. The guy had guts—I had to give him that. Later on I was hoping for a firsthand look at them. But right now that was neither here nor there. Right now we had business to conduct.

"Bring the equipment here tomorrow night," I reiterated gently. "And, Samuel? Don't think you can hide her. You can't. I'd find her and if I didn't, my employers would." I tapped my bottom lip and considered. "I'm not sure which would be worse. There certainly wouldn't be enough left of her to ask."

He stood motionless, jaw working. Then he gave one jerky nod, turned silently, and left. He was down in the mouth, but you had to be firm with the puppies. Spare the rod, spoil the human. At least that collection of monkey scribbles had gotten one thing right.

Sighing glumly, I settled back against the crate and steeled myself to a miserable night sleeping on a cold, hard floor with only the heat of enraged and unruly spirits to warm me. The claws that scrabbled down the wood to pierce my shoulder weren't any huge surprise. I'd been waiting for it the moment I'd walked into the warehouse. "Can I help you, boss?" I asked with false cheer.

"What have you been doing, maggot food?" the Auphe's fetid breath cooed in my ear. For one split second a shiver raced down my spine. It wasn't an Auphe, nor was it a creature I'd had a business relationship with over thousands of years. It was a Grendel. It was a horrifying creature that had snatched me from bed and all but destroyed me. I stopped that thought in its tracks. No, I wouldn't even accept that it was a thought. That would mean there was a consciousness that had made it. Cal was no more and neither was his consciousness, not as a separate entity. It was just an emotion stored in the neurons of this peculiar brain.

"Nothing, boss," I answered promptly. "Just laying low like you told me to. Just following the plan."

A cold finger traced my jawline. "Then whence came this bruise? It's nearly as large as your rampant ego. You wouldn't be lying to me, would you, Darkling? You wouldn't try to deceive your betters."

My teeth clenched and I choked down the black bile of fury. Betters? I had no betters, but if I had, Auphe would certainly never have been on the list. "Merely a disagreement with a mugger in the park who mistook me for a human. I assumed you had no problem with self-defense. I know this body is a precious commodity to you." I raised eyes to his red ones as he crouched on the crate above my shoulder. "Much as I am."

He considered my words carefully. Cold and calculating, but in the end he was still backed into a corner he couldn't escape. I was precious to him, as much so as Caliban's body. The Auphe couldn't pull this off without the both of us, and they knew it. "A mugger." The disbelief was rich in his voice, but so was acceptance of his position. "You're losing your touch, Darkling." With that, he retreated back over the top of the crate and vanished. I had the upper hand now, and he knew it. Later, however, I'd better watch my back.

Or I'd better run for my life.

I pushed the gloomy, defeatist thoughts out of my head. I'd come out on top. I always did. I abandoned the crate and curled up on the floor. There was no risking a hotel now, not on the last night. There would be no electric blanket, no champagne, no room service. What a world. It was the same world that would end tomorrow night.

Now, that was something to sleep on.

Sleep was something I'd always been fond of, in either halves of my whole. I loved the darkness, silent and still, wrapped around me with inexorable arms. There was a difference, though. Humans dreamed; I did not. I didn't need to. Life was all the wish fulfillment I needed, and as for subconscious fears… I didn't have any.
I
was the fear that ran rampant in dreams throughout history. There was no vice versa. No dreams, no nightmares.

And I refused to start now.

Memories, that's all they were. Just a swirl of memories… once mine, once his… now ours. There was a troll, huge and gloating, Auphe everywhere, and a trailer flaming to the sky. A bitter woman spit words as painful as any stab wound, and there was year after year of running. It should have been boring stuff to one as jaded as me, but it wasn't. There was terror, fury, despair, and a long-simmering anger, but boredom wasn't any part of the equation. Of course by our now-singular nature some of the memories were mine as well. The happier ones. Deshelling a smelly knight without damaging his armor. That had been tricky and, in the end, damn messy. But it'd still been fun as hell. Sinking a canoe of natives into piranha-infested waters. The fish at least had been grateful for that one. It was one of the good things about my vocation in life; it led to my avocation walking directly into my greedy hands. They all came looking for the treasure I was possessing at the time. It was like pizza delivery, only better because it was free.

Yeah, good memories.

The trouble was that now my memories were all mixed up with those others. I was the one wearing the armor as a thousand troll tentacles slithered into every crack and began to pull flesh from my bones. The Auphe were lifting me high and tossing me into turgid, muddy water to be devoured by shredding teeth. A deadly beautiful woman sang curses at me as she methodically ripped off my arms and legs, then ears, and finally my tongue.

But they weren't dreams and they certainly weren't nightmares. No. Mixed-up memories, that's all. Nothing but mental debris. It was all I would allow them to be.

Consequently, when I woke up covered in sweat with my heart racing, I was annoyed… extremely annoyed. My mood didn't improve when I saw one of the Auphe was back, crouching over me. He was balanced on a stack of boxes and gazing at me with an assessing glint in his eyes. It was the same look I hadn't been happy with the night before. "What are you looking at?" I snapped as I sat up and stretched stiff muscles. I was cranky and cold and in no mood to "boss" and bow and scrape. Not now. Not today.

"Don't test your luck, little lizard." Quiet words that nonetheless had a presence all their own. "You have a task to do. Stay in control and do it." He flipped and disappeared between the crates and the wall as fast as a silverfish into a crack. There were no more threats or attempts at intimidation. The Auphe had to have guessed what I'd been up to. Once the gate was opened, they would have other things on their minds and they just might forget how I'd displeased them. And I was all too aware of what the Auphe were capable of when displeased. I didn't need a picture painted for me. Not that the insinuation that I wasn't in the driver's seat didn't piss me off. Because it did; it pissed me off quite a bit. I was in total control. Total. We were one and I was in control.

Damn straight.

Standing, I rubbed a hand over my face and absently checked my watch. I'd slept the night through, past the morning, and well into late afternoon. It wasn't that long a sleep, not for me. There were times I'd slept months if left to my own devices. Years even. Not today, though, not on the last day. Time… a fluid word. Soon there would be all the time in the world and yet none at all. Soon it would be time to open the gate. Now? Now it was time for school.

The gate had a power that couldn't be denied. It was a black-winged harbinger, a shivering omen of things to come. But when I actually opened one myself, all that melodramatic mumbo jumbo faded next to the reality of it. It wasn't opening a doorway. It wasn't gathering every iota of inner force and ripping the fabric of space and time itself. It wasn't an act of will overcoming the physical universe. It wasn't any of those, yet it was all of them. But more than that, it was an orgasm. Light and darkness. Up and down. Life and death. Oh, and one other thing…

It kicked
ass
.

Just practice for the show of shows, but still a blast. Still, class was class and the Auphe were somewhat harsher with lessons than your average ruler-wielding nun. They'd never been long on the social niceties.

Going to school under them only proved that point. Luckily, most of the lesson was only review. They had taught Cal enough about opening gates in the two years that they'd had him, and he'd been an apt pupil. Torture is nothing if not a strong incentive. The half-breed had learned all right and learned well. After all, it was how he had escaped from Tumulus—that and killing an Auphe with his bare hands. I had to give him credit. Insert applause here for the little shit. He'd never known, though; he'd never been able to retrieve the memories of what he'd done and what had been done to him. He'd never been able to open a gate again. The memory was too buried and bound up in chains of utter denial. But though it was beyond Caliban from then on, it was not beyond me.

"Concentrate. Hold it." A sharp talon to my biceps punctuated the words in a way Miss Manners would have strongly disapproved of, but it did bring my attention back to the lesson at hand. "Ahhhh, beauuutiful. Now let it go."

Opening a gate had been difficult, even with the past and present coaching and the genetic tendencies. Wrapping my mind around the twisty cogitation necessary for walking that path was rigorous. And if opening it was a bitch, closing it was that much worse. It was almost impossibly hard to let it die. In the midst of the metaphysical whirlpool, past the physical pangs, there was an exhilaration that was addictive. Plum, gold, and burgundy lights danced behind my eyes as electricity raced through every cell. Sucking in a breath laced with ice and fire, I held on to the gate for another intoxicating second before finally releasing it.

The quivering oval of light shrank to a pinpoint, and then popped out of sight. Dropping hands that tingled with residual energy, I blew on my fingernails and raised my eyebrows at the Auphe at my elbow. "Good enough for government work?"

He didn't answer, but instead turned to a blood clot of several of his brothers nearby. All of them practically vibrated with excitement. Joining together, they laughed as joyfully as hellish children and swirled round and round each other like sharks in a feeding pattern. Their time had come again and they knew it.

I left them to it. Retreating to a far corner of the building, I did my best to suppress appetite pangs. I was starving. If there'd been time, I would have run out for a burger or Chinese, but there wasn't. The clock was ticking. Ignoring the grumblings of my stomach, I wiped the sweat from my face with my sleeve and pushed my hair behind my ears. Thanks to Niko and Robin, I didn't have a change of clothing or the chance to take a hot shower. They'd rushed me, messed up my time schedule, and left me rather cranky. I wasn't the clotheshorse Goodfellow was. For that matter, neither was Beau Brummell, and I'd seen that dude in diamond-encrusted tights. The puck had no equal in the fashion department, but that didn't mean I didn't like the finer things in life. All the world's a stage, they say, and here I was doing my solo in a pair of grass-stained jeans topped off with a ripped navy blue silk sweater. It wasn't what I'd planned and not the showmanship I liked to think I was known for.

I inserted a finger into a tear at the shoulder seam and sighed. All those years of safeguarding treasures had turned me into something of a magpie, and I coveted the bright and the beautiful. Jewels, fabrics… souls. I had a bit of the collector in me and I'd never even realized it until now. Pulling the shirt off, I discarded it on the ground as my bare skin prickled in the cool air.

"I brought the equipment." Samuel's voice came from behind me. It rang dully with hostility and I smiled to myself. It seemed I wasn't the only cranky one here tonight. Misery does love company.

"You're a good puppy, Sammy. Keep this up and you'll get a nice treat." I turned and gave him a sunny grin. I'd heard him come in, heard his breathing, heard every measured tread. There hadn't actually been any doubt in my mind that he would do as I said, but I still had to admit it was gratifying. Made for a smoother schedule, and I'd had enough aggravation lately. "You bring Genghis with you?" I brushed disparagingly at my jeans. "I could use a pair of leather pants." Another hunger pang prompted a wistful addition. "And a snack." Genghis wasn't a cheeseburger, but beggars couldn't be choosers.

"Where do you want it?" he asked, disregarding my comment. He was all business, grim and humorless as a Baptist in a whorehouse.

Hours had passed while I was relearning the ins and outs of gates. It was coming down to the wire. "In front of the far wall, about twenty feet back." I tossed a casual hand toward the one wall not covered with boxes and crates. "Keep them to the side and leave a path. And jack the amps all the way up, Sam-I-am. I'm going to make some serious noise."

Nodding curtly, he spun on his heel and moved off. I called genially after him, "Need any help, buddy? It'll be just like old times. You won't even have to pay me this time."

"No, thanks." He brushed me off without turning. "I didn't bring my long spoon."

Literate bastard, I thought with amused tolerance as I watched him go. I could have told him there was no devil. The rest of us wouldn't have stood for the competition. I let him alone while he set up the speakers; they were an impressive set for a rinky-dink bar band. Samuel had to bring them in on a dolly and it was still a struggle—they were that massive. It was good luck for me. I had Caliban's breeding, I had the supernatural battery beneath the floor, and I had the Auphe's guidance. But more than that, I had myself. I had talents of my own and that would be the deciding factor. Millions of years was a huge chasm to bridge. It wouldn't hurt to get a boost. And if the humans' own technology led to their downfall, hell, that was just a bonus. Any ambivalence I had about losing this world's luxury disappeared under the sheer ego boost of what I was about to do… what only I could achieve. In the entire realm of existence only I could make this happen. Only I held the power.

"Where do you want the microphone stand?" came another question, detached and toneless. Samuel was becoming less and less entertaining as the seconds passed. His face set and remote, his eyes stony, he looked just past me as he waited for my answer.

I took a step sideways, planting myself firmly in his line of sight. I wasn't going to let him hide from what was happening. What ticked me off, though, what gnawed at me with sharp rat teeth, was that I didn't know if it was the Darkling part of me or the portion that had once been Caliban.

I
thought the Auphe were damn cunning in regard to Samuel. They had finally located Cal and his brother, had shadowed them from a safe distance for nearly a month, and hadn't been found out. They had known about the friendship with Georgina. They'd known about her dying father. They'd even discovered an in with her devoted uncle Samuel, and they'd used it ruthlessly. He could do what the Auphe couldn't and watch the brothers from a front-row seat, keep tabs on them during the time his masters searched for a suitable location for the gate. He could get up close and personal with the brothers in a way that wasn't possible for the Auphe. He was the one that sniffed out that they were going to run, too. Good nose on him… for a human. You had to hand it to the bosses; they had tied everything in a neat and inescapable knot. Admirable.

Of course Cal would've had a slightly different opinion. His would've been more in the realm of betrayal and rage, with a generous helping of homicidal fury. I wanted to kill our good buddy Samuel—don't get me wrong. But whereas I wanted to kill him for fun, Cal would've wanted to do it out of a sense of vengeance. He would've wanted payback. He would've wanted justice.

I didn't give a shit about what he would've wanted. Caliban was gone. There was only me and when I tormented Samuel it was for kicks only. That was the end of that particular story. "No stand," I answered. "I saw your singer use a headset. That's what I want." I'd need my hands free to open the gate. Clamping on to his arm with a tight grip, I stopped him as he started to move away. "Another thing, Samuel. Since you've been such a good guy, been such a pal." I bared my teeth in a travesty of a grin that predated my human form. "I'd like you to stick around and see the show. Admission is free." More or less.

He didn't avoid my gaze this time, but simply met it with eyes as empty as what was left of his soul. "All right." He knew what was coming, knew it and wasn't going to avoid it. The curse of a conscience wasn't a problem I was familiar with, but I had heard rumors. "I'll be back with the headset." I released him and he made his way through the gathering Auphe. Frowning, I watched him go. Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing that I wasn't going to have the opportunity to kill Samuel. He was making it entirely too easy; it took all the fun out of it. Either way, it didn't matter. Once the Auphe went through the gate there wouldn't be a Samuel to kill. There wouldn't be a Georgina either, and if Samuel had known that, I don't think he would've have been quite so resigned.

"It is time."

The whisper of the Auphe was repeated a hundred times over, rising in an atonal concerto that swelled high to the rafters. The words then melted into an inarticulate,
needful
moan that twisted the air in the same way a knife twisted guts into shredded flesh and spilled bile. It was the sound of a multitude of monsters calling for home. They stood shoulder to shoulder and watched me with the intensity of an exploding sun. Hundreds of bloody eyes were locked unswervingly in my direction. I could feel the heat of it on my face. Their icy, fetid breath panted in short, excited bursts as long fingers clenched and unclenched into spidery knots. Mouths gaped, lips skimming over adamantine teeth, as they mewled uncontrollably. They were the right hand of death itself, pale and pitiless.