Hellforged

“I didn’t ask to be hired. I’m here to protect Tina. If you’ve got a problem with that, let’s just say I quit.”

“I don’t care what the hell you do as long as you keep outta my way.” He stopped and gestured toward the dressing rooms. “You said Tina? That’s her dressing room there.”

“Great, thank—”

“You two should get along great. She’s almost as big a pain in the ass as you.” A sneer contorted his face.

I turned away, ignoring him. Then I thought about how this norm had lost his partner only a week ago—it was the first time I’d seen him since Sykes’s death. With one foot on the wooden stairs to Tina’s trailer, I stopped and looked back. Norden gazed across the darkening cemetery. “Hey, Norden,” I said, “I’m sorry about Sykes.”

He eyeballed me like he thought maybe I’d insulted him but wasn’t sure how. Then he shrugged. “At least I’m off the goddamn Goon Squad. Hampson tried to give me shit, so I quit to go private. Just my luck my first job is providing security for a bunch of freaks and monsters.” He grimaced and walked away.

So much for sharing a moment of tenderness with Norden.

I went up the stairs. Tacked to the door was a piece of paper with TINA TERROR printed in bold black letters. Tina’s last name was Zawadzki, so I could see why she’d want a stage name. But “Tina Terror”? That was as bad as Monster Paul. Below the name was a lopsided star, hand-drawn in yellow highlighter. It looked like something a preschooler’s mom would hang on the fridge; suddenly, Tina seemed very young and very vulnerable. I raised my hand to knock.

“Hey,” said Norden behind me. “Do you see someone over there?”

It was hard to see through the gloom. “Where?”

“By the obelisk. Damn useless guards can’t even keep the tourists out. Hey!” he yelled, starting forward. “Cemetery’s closed.”

I squinted in the direction he was going. A silhouetted figure stood beside the obelisk. All around him, perched on the gravestones and monuments, hunched a dozen large birds, black shapes against the shadows. A crow cawed.

Pryce was here. And he’d brought the Morfran with him.

I jumped down the stairs and sprinted toward my “cousin,” drawing my sword as I ran.

Norden, threading his way through the graves, yelled at Pryce again. Pryce extended an arm, and I dropped. Norden ducked behind a tree. But Pryce wasn’t concerned with us. His gesture was a signal. The crows rose into the air, cawing and shrieking.

Pryce disappeared.

I scrambled to my feet and resheathed my sword. I yanked up the leg of my jeans and tugged at the snap that held Hellforged in place. When it popped open, I allowed myself one deep breath to get centered. Then I grasped the athame with my left hand and pulled it out.

Crows shot over my head like fat black arrows and disappeared through the wall of Tina’s trailer.

The dressing room door burst open, and Tina ran out screaming, wearing a pink bathrobe and waving her arms wildly as the cloud of crows dived at her. She tripped on the stairs and tumbled to the ground.

Norden ran toward her, gun drawn.

“Norden, don’t!” I yelled. “They’re a spirit—you can’t shoot them.”

He skidded to a stop. “Then how in hell—?”

“Here.” I was already starting to make big, slow circles with my left hand. I reached into my inner jacket pocket and pulled out the slate. “Lean this against the trunk of that tree.”

Norden gaped like a fish getting ready to swallow a fly, as he watched me make superslow circles with my invisible lasso and took in the flowers and HOME SWEET HOME inscription on the slate.

Tina’s screams shattered the night.

“Take it, Norden! I know what I’m doing!”

I prayed that was true.

He grabbed the slate and ran toward the tree.

I closed my eyes and put everything I had into the ritual, drawing in the Morfran energy. I didn’t just circle, I willed the hunger to come to me. With all my strength, I pulled the Morfran in. So Difethwr was my shadow now? Good. The Hellion could help me call the Morfran. I felt a drag as the Morfran flowed into Hellforged’s orbit. Part of me was aware that Tina had stopped screaming, that Norden knelt beside her. But I kept the double focus I’d practiced with Mab: my calm, powerful center and the athame in my hand.

As the Morfran followed Hellforged’s circles, the crow bodies dissolved into energy. I made smaller circles, feeling the Morfran swirl with me. Smaller and smaller. The energy moved closer to the athame’s point. Smaller. A chill crept into my fingers. Then a jolt of ice.

As fast as I could, I passed Hellforged to my right hand. I pointed the athame at the slate and shouted, “Parhau! Ireos! Mantrigo!” The Morfran streaked into the slate and knocked it over. It jumped once, twice, then lay still on the ground.

Home sweet home.

Hellforged remained calm. I resheathed it and ran to where the slate lay. Wisps of smoke rose from its surface, but it was freezing cold to the touch. Colder than the night air or the ground it rested on. I stuck the slate in my pocket and hurried to check on Tina. She sat on the ground, clutching Norden and pressing her face into his shirt. Her shoulders heaved. If zombies could cry, she’d be sobbing. He patted her back, tentatively, as if afraid she’d break.

I squatted down beside them. “Tina? Are you okay?”

She pulled back from Norden. Smudges of mascara raccoon-ringed her eyes. “What was that?”

“That,” I said, helping her to her feet, “was why I wanted to cancel this concert.”

“Oh.” She brushed herself off and took a shaky step toward her trailer. “Then I’m glad you got rid of it before the show started. It would’ve, like, totally wrecked our dance moves for ‘Grave Robber.’ ”

I wanted to tell her to stop, to get the hell out of here, to run as far away as she could. Pryce wasn’t finished yet. The zombies hadn’t even started dancing, and the few crows I’d slammed into the Home Sweet Home plaque weren’t even a drop in the bucket compared to that sky-choking flock I’d witnessed at the slate mine.

But nothing short of a phase-three Morfran attack would keep Tina off that stage. I knew that. The best I could do was try to protect her and Deadtown’s other zombies—and stop Pryce for good.

Tina climbed the steps to her dressing room, and I followed her. As she went inside, I told her I’d be there in a minute. Then I went to talk to Norden.

“The guy you saw standing by the obelisk, his name’s Pryce Maddox. He’ll probably attack again tonight.” I described him while Norden took notes.

“And you know this guy how?”

“He calls himself my cousin, but—”

“Oh, Jesus. How come I’m not surprised?”

He gave me one of his trademark sneers, but I regarded him levelly. No matter how much I’d love to knock this norm on his ass right now, I needed his cooperation tonight. So he could take his own damn bait and shove it, because I wasn’t touching it. After a minute, he dropped his gaze and pretended to read something on his notepad.

“How’d he disappear like that?” Norden asked, his voice businesslike.

“Pryce is a demi-demon. He can pop in and out of the demon plane at will.”

“Can I shoot him? I mean, will it do anything?”

“Yes, but use bronze bullets, preferably the kind treated with holy water or sacramental wine. Regular bullets can slow him down, but mostly they’ll annoy him.” From the look on Norden’s face, it was clear he wasn’t packing bronze bullets of any kind. “I’ll handle Pryce,” I said. “Is there a way we can stay in contact tonight?”

He looked like my question gave him indigestion, but he said, “I’ll get you a two-way radio.”

“Good. If you see Pryce, tell me.” I patted the Sword of Saint Michael, and Norden nodded.

He started toward the cemetery gate, then stopped. The sneer was gone, replaced by a haunted look. “Those crows—or whatever the hell they were. That’s what killed Sykes?”

“Yeah.”

“What the hell is it?”

“It’s called the Morfran. It’s an ancient spirit of hunger that feeds on death.”

“Jesus.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Okay, Vaughn, I’ll give you this: You are pretty good at fighting demons.” I half-nodded and went toward Tina’s trailer. Before I’d made it to the door, he added, “For a freak.”

37

KANE ARRIVED AS NORDEN WAS LEAVING. HE’D SEEN THE crows circling and realized what was happening. “Is that it?” he asked. “Did you recapture the Morfran Pryce released?”

“That was barely a preview.” In Wales, Kane had been deep in the mine when the Morfran filled the sky. He hadn’t seen how much Pryce had released. “Pryce is saving the main event for the concert.”

Quickly I brought him up to speed on everything from the time we’d been separated in Reykjavik to Pryce’s disappearance from the cemetery. I didn’t mention the Old Ones—we could sort that part out later. “Pryce was by that obelisk?” Kane asked.

I nodded.

“I’ll see if I can pick up his scent.”

“He exited into the demon plane.” But it was a good idea. Pryce’s human form, with its human senses, couldn’t enjoy being in the demon plane any more than I did. He could be hiding somewhere in the Ordinary, waiting for the concert to start. “If you find him, don’t approach him. Come and get me.” I gave him one of my knives, just in case.

Kane nodded and went toward the obelisk. I hurried up the wooden steps to check on Tina.

Tina’s dressing room was tiny, about the size of a walk-in closet. She sat in front of a light bulb-ringed mirror at a dressing table piled high with cosmetics. A framed photo of a smiling norm family stood half-hidden behind a tissue box. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">