Nightlife (25 page)

Read Nightlife Online

Authors: Rob Thurman

BOOK: Nightlife
9.88Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Anyone with less intestinal fortitude, inhuman or not, would've been curled up on the floor sucking his thumb. I basked in the attention and took it as my due. I'd always known I was a star. Without me, the Auphe were nothing. I was the key, and the gate was a lock only I could open. At this moment I was, as I'd always suspected, God. Spreading my arms, I let my head fall back and closed my eyes, my streaming hair a silk touch on my shoulder blades. "Suffer the little children to come unto me." Opening my eyes, I smiled gently at the Auphe.

A shaken breath broke beside me. "Jesus. Sweet Jesus."

I tilted my head toward Samuel. "Oh, my sights are set higher than that." His face was as gray as that of a dying man and a cold sweat sheened on his skin. He ripped his eyes from the milling Auphe to me.

"What are they going to do?" Samuel's voice was hushed and strained to the breaking point, but his apathy had disappeared. It would be hard for even the most suicidal man to be complacent at the sight before him now.

I took the headset from his frozen hand. "I think it's a little late to be worrying about that now." I slipped on the headset, my eyes following him as he backed away slowly, step by step. "You might as well stick around, Samuel. There's nowhere you can go to hide from this. Nowhere in the world." He kept moving and I let him go, dismissing him from my mind. I had but one thought now. One aim. One goal. One desire. I turned my back to the Auphe to face the empty wall and held my hands out, fists clenched. Behind me they stood… a concert crowd waiting for the headliner to come onto the stage. They nearly filled the warehouse now that all were gathered together in fatal anticipation. The panting grew heavier behind me and then faded completely to a deadly and waiting silence. Before me one cleared wall flanked by speakers stood blank, a canvas waiting for the artist's hand. Beneath me the undying fury of restless souls howled for release.

I gave it to them.

Their energy rocketed into me with the force of a freight train and I reveled in it. Every inner part of me was clasped with greedy, ravaging fingers as the souls continued to rush up through me. Mindless, gibbering fury and need, it kept coming and coming until I thought I would explode into a thousand shards of rage and death. And it was for me, all for me. I felt my muscles spasm into rock-hard knots, felt my eyes open wide and stare at nothing. The sizzle of ions raced over my skin like lightning and the blood seemed to boil in my veins as I rose into the air. Feet inches off the floor, I was a fly in amber. And still it went on, an ocean pouring into a teacup. I found myself straining, stretching, swelling, until every cell shrieked out in protest.

Then it stopped. Finally, the influx halted and I hung, burning from the inside out. I still couldn't see, but I didn't have to. Opening my hands to frame the gate, I channeled all of that frenzy, all of that savagery, into one amplified, earth-shattering note. Singing was the one thing I had in common with my banshee sisters. For different reasons, yes, but we all sang. Some called it wailing or screaming or even shrieking, but it was none of those things. It was beautiful, passionate, life-destroying song. And that song fed every iota of the stored energy within me into a dark creation, channeled it into a wholly unnatural birth.

The gate opened.

It was as simple as that. A little song, a little dance, a little open sesame, and here we were. Good-bye to electric blankets, good-bye to hot showers, good-bye to fast food, designer clothes, fast cars. And so long and farewell to the human race. In the end, I guess it all balanced out. In the end, it
was
the end.

My vision returned and I saw the gate swirling sluggishly on the wall, eighteen feet tall by nearly the same number wide. Through tears in the rippling and foaming gray light, I could see glimpses of a velvety purple sky dotted with stars nearly as big as your fist. Air wafted through, warm and redolent with sulfur, bitter musk, and sweetgrass. I remembered the smell. It was the scent of lava rivers, massive animals that moved as majestically as ships, and grass a shade of green no longer found in nature. It was…

"Home." The Auphe said it for me. In their rasping, sand-scraping tongue they said the word with more reverence than I'd known they had in them. "Home."

With the energy gone from me and now bound into the gate, I was dropped back onto the floor. My arms were still extended and I was shaking with the effort to hold the rip in time and space. "No time like the present, boss," I gritted between clenched teeth. "This baby isn't going to stay open much longer."

Behind me came a snake's hissing sigh from a hundred mouths that yet managed to sound as one. A culmination of centuries of want and work had arrived and the Auphe were joined as one in the moment. And together they took that first step in perfect synchronicity. I heard it: a ponderous thud that echoed like thunder. The lightning came a split second later in the form of a sword stroke when Niko and Robin came out of the left speaker. It was like a magician's trick: Now you see them, now you don't—only in reverse. Niko's blade had split the speaker cover from the inside with one quicksilver slash. Stepping through the opening, my brother paused as his eyes took in the Auphe army and then locked on me. His hair was gone. The waist-length, dark blond hair had been sheared close to the skull. It meant something, that. I wasn't sure what, but it tickled in the back of my mind like an itch I couldn't scratch. Robin appeared behind him and freed my attention.

The speaker, damn, that was ingenious. I'd noticed the imbalance when I had sung. I'd assumed a mechanical malfunction. I'd been wrong. As I'd ordered, Samuel had provided me with speakers… one for me and one for betrayal. It was one frigging inopportune time for the son of a bitch to develop scruples. He must have gone to his niece to track down Niko and then collaborated to bring him and Goodfellow here. When his conscience reactivated it'd done so with a vengeance. I should've eaten him when I had the chance.

Sweat prickled the back of my neck as the gate continued to swirl, and I could feel its pull growing stronger. Within minutes it would exhaust the power within it and begin to siphon my own life force. If that happened, it would instantly turn me inside out. While a nifty special effect, it wasn't exactly in my best interest. I was willing to work for the Auphe; I was not willing to die for them. I doubted it would come to that, however. As deadly as Niko and Goodfellow could be, the Auphe had the numbers in this situation. The numbers, the rage, and the desperation. Even Nik would have to fall before that.

"Nik." I gave my brother a wolfish grin. "You didn't say it. How disappointing. How's it go again?" I hummed a tune from an ancient cartoon. "
Here I come, to save the day
."

Robin was studying the gate with a peculiar mixture of horror and longing on his triangular face. His hand moved to Niko's shoulder and squeezed until his fingers blanched white. "No. It cannot…
ektos mas
. Niko, it is the past. It's a time before humans. If the Auphe go through there…" He didn't have to finish. I could see Nik grasped the implications immediately.

"Close it." He moved until he stood between the gate and me. The point of his blade rested in the hollow of my throat. "Now."

The resulting trickle of blood coursed down my chest until it bisected the flesh over my black heart. Out of my sight I could hear the Auphe rushing forward. There were almost on us; I could feel their murderous outrage like a heat at my back. Then the sawed-off shotgun dispersed that heat with some of its own. I watched in disbelief as Robin, joined by Samuel, pulled them from beneath their coats, moved to flank me, and fired. What the hell? Had they mugged Rambo on the way over or what? Still tied to the gate, I turned my head to see Auphe flying through the air, some of them in pieces. "Ah, shit." I staggered and whipped my focus back to the gate. It was destabilizing. Setting my feet, I held on to it and did some more cursing. This time it was in my own language, one that was all but made for foul words.

Niko's eyes hadn't shifted even minutely. "Close the gate, Darkling. Close it or I'll open you."

"Do we really want to have this conversation again?" I snarled, my patience fast eroding. Past him I could see that the gate had solidified somewhat, a good sign. "You can't do it, big brother. We've already seen that."

Goodfellow and Samuel let loose with the other barrels and discarded the guns before reaching back inside their coats for more. These were more along the lines of automatic weapons, and I had to wonder with irritation where the flamethrowers were. Just goes to show that you can find anything in the Big Apple if you know the right people to ask. As they began to fire again, I risked another glance over my shoulder. Guns or not, I couldn't fathom the Auphe retreating now… not when they'd come so far. Apparently, they couldn't fathom it either.

They were still coming, leaping over the dead and the •shattered, the wounded and the bloody. Covered with blood and ragged flesh, they kept coming. Lead-borne death was not going to stop them. As far as I could tell, it wasn't even going to slow them down. They were going to pass through the gate. Whether they went over the three in their way or through them, it didn't matter. It was going to happen. At this late stage in the game there was no way to stop it.

My brother refused to accept it. The bastard had always been stubborn. From the time I could walk he'd been bossing me around. For that matter, he'd done his best to boss all of creation around. But he'd never been able to make the world do what he'd wanted it to do—he had never succeeded in making it leave us alone. Now he stood in front of me, giving it one last shot, although I think he knew it was futile. Refusing to give in because that's who he was. From beginning to end, that's who he was. "Shut it down." The sword was unwavering at my throat. "I won't tell you again."

"You wasted my time telling me at all." I couldn't use my arms or hands in my defense, but Nik had taught me better than that. My own predatory talents didn't hurt either. I aimed a flashing kick at his knee that he avoided easily. It was a feint and I didn't expect it to work. What he didn't anticipate was the poison that I spit in his face. Even distracted by the blow directed at his leg, he still managed to dodge far enough to the side that the venom missed his eyes. He reeled backward as the skin on his left jaw and chin began to redden and swell. It wouldn't kill him; chances were it wouldn't even make him sick. This new body, merged though it was, was slower to produce toxins. It had taken me this long to make any at all and it was nowhere near full strength. If I'd hit Niko's eyes, however, I would've blinded him. As it was now, he'd have only an agonizingly painful allergic reaction.

Meanwhile, I could simply kick him to death. Perhaps it wasn't as festive as blindness, convulsions, and the vomiting up of internal organs, but it would have to do. With his free hand clawing at his face, Nik staggered and went down to one knee. I lashed out and slammed a blow to his thigh that took him all the way to the ground. The next one landed in his ribs. My headset tumbling off from the exertion, I was poised for another kick when I caught a flicker out of the corner of my eye. It was the first long slide into home base.

The bullets were still flying, but one Auphe passed through the curtain of them as if it were a gentle summer rain. He bolted past me and leaped toward the gate in a motion as liquid as flowing mercury. He almost made it. He was three feet from the gate and still in midair when Niko's sword cut him in two. One moment Nik had been on his side with my foot in his ribs; the next he'd flown to his feet, spun, and taken out the Auphe with one stroke. The newly sleek blond head whipped around and he snapped at Goodfellow and Samuel, "Keep them back!"

"Oh, was that the plan?" Robin countered acidly. "Perhaps I should've written it down." Swinging his gun, he slammed the stock into the face of an Auphe who'd made it too close. Ichor and mucus sprayed into the air in a peculiarly artistic fan pattern.

Samuel kept firing. He had less to say, but it was considerably more to the point. "Hurry, damn it!"

And then the blond head turned my way. There would be no more warnings, I saw. No more chances. That's when I remembered about the hair. The knowledge scurried out of the depths of my brain, and I heard the distant blue velvet chuckle of Mommy dearest. It was something she'd once told the two of us when I was young enough to think her booze-soaked ramblings were bedtime stories. This one had been about her Gypsy roots. I suppose they were partly ours too, although she never made any effort to include us. Sophia came from Greek Gypsy stock. The customs of both groups had been intertwined and one particular old Greek tradition had been adopted by the Rom of that region.

You cut your hair for those who have died. You cut your hair and you mourn.

"Cyrano." I met eyes that in different times had been the same color as mine and said ruefully, "Really?"

I could've stopped him. I would've lost the gate, but I could've stopped him. The picture of how it would go was clear in my mind. I would drop the gate, swivel in one motion to wrap my arm around Samuel's neck. When I turned back, I would have his gun and I would have him between glittering death and me. As the blade pierced my hostage's heart, I would unleash enough bullets to turn Niko into a distant memory. Easy, simple, and I could've done it. I could have.

But I didn't.

Instead of Samuel's heart the sword slid into my abdomen like it was coming home. My hands fell to close tightly around my brother's. His fingers were cold and they shook minutely beneath mine. We both held on to the hilt like it was a lifeline. Odd. It wasn't anything near that… for either of us. "Well." I barely could hear myself, my words that were softly carried on failing breath. Niko heard me, though—I could see that in his face, in his eyes… in the depths that swallowed all light, all hope, all faith. "Look at that." Falling to my knees, I felt the relinquishing kiss of metal inside me as I slid free of the blade. I smiled up at him, the faint curve of my lips almost genuine. "My mistake. I guess you have the balls after all. Good for you, big brother." It felt final, those words. I let go of Niko to cup my hands over my stomach and watch with detached fascination as my life simply flowed away.

Other books

Dead to You by Lisa McMann
A Photographic Death by Judi Culbertson
Ghosts by Gaslight by Jack Dann
Knockemstiff by Donald Ray Pollock
Stalin's General by Geoffrey Roberts
Gamers - Amazon by Thomas K. Carpenter
Ghostmaker by Dan Abnett
A Commodore of Errors by John Jacobson