Die and Stay Dead (27 page)

“I figured,” she said. She kept looking at me.

“What?” I asked.

“I didn’t say anything,” she said.

“But you want to.”

We reached the Escalade. I opened the driver’s door. She opened the passenger door and took a seat.

“You already made it clear it’s none of my business,” she said.

I tossed my orange construction vest in the back of the Escalade, put my trench coat back on, and sat down behind the wheel. I started the car.

“But if you must know,” Bethany continued, “this whole Lucas West thing…”

I glared at her.

She raised her hands in surrender. “Staying out of it.”

I pulled into traffic and drove toward Central Park and Citadel. We took Sixth Avenue, riding in silence. That was fine with me. Whatever else Bethany had to say on the subject, I didn’t want to hear it.

The traffic light turned red at Forty-Fourth Street. I braked at the edge of the crosswalk, directly beneath the arching metal post where the traffic light hung. A sudden movement in the periphery of my field of vision made me glance up. A shape was perched on the metal post, crouching on his hands and feet. Without warning, he sprang up, somersaulted through the air, and landed expertly on all fours on the hood of the Escalade. The car rocked with the impact.

I recognized the black sweats and ski mask right away, even before I saw the metal gauntlet on his hand.

Arkwright.

Nineteen

Even though the traffic light was still red, I slammed my foot down on the accelerator. The Escalade squealed out into the crosstown traffic on Forty-Fourth Street. Horns blared at us, drivers shouted, and people stared from the sidewalks. I swerved around a yellow cab and sped into the empty lanes of Sixth Avenue in front of me. All the while, Arkwright hung on, gripping the top seam of the hood.

I twisted the steering wheel from side to side, trying to throw him off the car. He pulled back the Thracian Gauntlet. I braced myself for the blast, but instead he made a fist and smashed the gauntlet through the tinted windshield right in front of Bethany. She cried out as cubes of safety glass showered over her.

I continued swerving the car from side to side, blowing through another intersection, but Arkwright held tight. He reached through the hole in the windshield with his gauntlet and grabbed the fragment in Bethany’s hands. She fought to keep it like a drowning woman holding onto a life preserver as the two of them tug-of-warred for the fragment. Keeping one hand on the steering wheel, I used the other to hit Arkwright’s arm, trying to force him back. More cars honked and swerved to avoid us as we blew past Forty-Fifth Street. Finally, Arkwright managed to yank the fragment out of Bethany’s hands. He pulled it out through the hole in the windshield.

Fuck it. I’d had enough of this asshole. I pulled my gun from the holster in the back of my pants and aimed it at him through the windshield. Before I could pull the trigger, Arkwright leapt backward off the hood of the Escalade, clutching the fragment. He somersaulted through the air and landed on top of the station wagon in front of us. The son of a bitch didn’t even stumble.

I rolled down my window. I transferred my gun to my left hand and pointed it out the window at Arkwright. I adjusted the speed of the Escalade to match that of the station wagon. I had a clear shot.

“Don’t shoot!” Bethany yelled. “The kids!”

I took my eyes off Arkwright. That was when I saw them, two little boys in the back cargo area of the station wagon, their faces and hands pressed against the rear window. One was looking up, trying to catch a glimpse of the man who had landed on top of their car. The other was staring at me. At my gun. His mouth was a round O of terror, his face as white as a sheet. Damn. There was no way I could guarantee my shot wouldn’t go wrong and hit one of those kids. Cursing, I put my gun away.

Arkwright leapt off the roof of the station wagon and jumped from car to car, getting farther from us. If I didn’t catch him now, he would get away. I hit the gas, but the morning rush-hour traffic kept me slow. Up ahead, Arkwright jumped off a car and onto the rear of a charter bus. He used the big vent grille for handholds and the bumper for his feet. Then he started to climb up the bus, the fragment tucked under one arm. When he reached the roof, he ran the length of it, then jumped again. He landed on the back of a fifty-foot-long tractor-trailer.

Damn, this guy was like a fucking gymnast. But if I wanted to stop him, I had to catch up. I spotted an opening in the traffic in front of me and floored it. I weaved the Escalade through traffic, cutting off vehicles as more angry drivers honked at me. A few seconds later, I pulled up alongside the truck. Through the window, I noticed a ladder running up the back of the trailer.

“Take the wheel,” I told Bethany.

Her eyes went wider than I’d ever seen them. “Tell me you’re not planning to do what I think you’re planning to do.”

“Just take the damn wheel!”

I let go of the steering wheel, giving her no choice but to lean over from the passenger seat and grab it. After everything we went through to get the fragment, there was no way I was letting that bastard take it from us. I opened the car door. Asphalt whipped by beneath me at flesh-ripping speed. Ahead, the early morning traffic thickened and slowed as we drew closer to Rockefeller Center. I crawled out the door, holding tight to the side of the Escalade to make sure I didn’t fall.

“Trent!” Bethany shouted. “You’re crazy! Get back in here!”

I squared my feet, readying myself.

“Don’t you dare!” Bethany yelled.

If we were going to catch Arkwright, it was now or never. I jumped. I grabbed hold of the ladder on the back of the truck and clung to it. The Escalade kept pace beside me. I saw Bethany crawl into the driver’s seat and close the door. She shook her head and mouthed something I was pretty sure wasn’t a compliment.

People shouted in alarm on the sidewalks. I saw cell phones and tablets lifting into the air as everyone snapped pictures of the lunatic holding onto the back of a moving truck. So much for keeping a low public profile. Isaac wasn’t going to like this.

I climbed up the ladder toward the roof of the trailer. My arms already hurt from grabbing the ladder in mid-jump, and my boots barely fit on the rungs. I slipped, cursing, but held on and righted myself. Wasn’t this kind of thing usually Philip’s job? I started climbing again. I made it to the top of the ladder and pulled myself up onto the roof.

Arkwright was standing at the front end of the trailer, his back to me. I moved forward, keeping my center of gravity low so I wouldn’t lose my balance. I pulled my gun and tried to line up a shot. I would shoot that son of a bitch right in the back if I had to.

Arkwright spun around and pointed the Thracian Gauntlet in my direction. I heard the high-pitched whine and hit the deck. The blast from the gauntlet sizzled through the air over me, smelling of ozone. Across the street, an office building’s second-story window exploded as the blast struck it. Glass rained onto the sidewalk below. I heard screams.

Shit. I got back on my feet. Arkwright was already running toward me. I couldn’t shoot without risking hitting a bystander. I holstered the gun and ran at him. Before he could get the gauntlet up for another blast, I tackled him. Our bodies hit the metal roof with a loud clang. We grappled on top of the trailer. I pinned the gauntlet down with one hand. With the other I tried to yank the fragment away from him. He kneed me in the gut, knocking the wind out of me. He broke away and got back on his feet. I did the same, struggling to catch my breath.

From the corner of my eye I saw something rocket toward us. I turned my head and saw an advancing traffic light dangling from its long metal post, the rapidly approaching green circle shining like a comet. There was no clearance—it was heading right for us. Arkwright and I both dropped onto our stomachs as the truck passed under the traffic light.

An instant later, we were both back on our feet. I reached for my gun, but the tractor-trailer beneath us changed lanes suddenly and I lost my balance. I fell, sliding toward the edge of the boxy trailer. My legs went off the side, then my torso, but I caught hold of the metal rim along the edge and hung on for dear life. As soon as one of my boots found purchase, I clambered back up.

Arkwright was waiting for me. Before I could get back on my feet, he kicked me in the face. I fell onto my side, tasting blood.

Arkwright turned away and started moving down the length of the trailer. I could tell he was getting ready to jump again, to make his escape with the fragment. There was no way in hell I was going to let him.

I was on my feet and chasing after him before I’d even finished the thought. I tackled Arkwright from behind. This time I got a good hold on him. The fragment fell out of his hands and landed a few feet away. Arkwright struggled, but I had both my arms around him tight.

Something felt strange through his clothes. It was like he had bandages wrapped around his body. I thought of Lon Chaney, Jr. in the old Universal mummy sequels, covered head to toe in his wrappings. Was that what Arkwright looked like under the black sweats? I thought about what the demon might have done to him. It’d been a massacre in the cult’s sanctum under the library. Just because Arkwright survived didn’t mean he’d survived unharmed. But if that was the case, if he was that seriously injured, how the hell was he running, jumping, and flipping around like that? A spell?

First things first. I had more pressing questions.

“How did you know where to find us?” I demanded. “How did you know we had the fragment?”

By way of an answer, he elbowed me in the face. My grip on him loosened, and he managed to wriggle away.

Arkwright pointed the gauntlet at me again. I heard another high-pitched whine as it powered up. I kicked his hand up. The gauntlet discharged into the air, its blast disappearing into the sky above us. I didn’t know what its range was, but I hoped like hell there were no airplanes flying overhead just then.

Arkwright ran for the fallen fragment and scooped it up. I threw myself at him, but he jumped out of my reach. My breath was coming hard and fast, but the bastard wasn’t even winded. His eyes, the only part of his face I could see thanks to the black ski mask, looked past me. I turned, saw another fast-approaching traffic light, and hit the deck.

Arkwright didn’t. He jumped and landed on top of the metal post of the traffic light. He stayed perched there, falling farther and farther back as the truck carried me away from him.

Shit. We were approaching Radio City Music Hall on Fiftieth Street. I got to my feet and jumped off the truck. My boots hit Radio City’s red-and-blue, neon-lit marquee with a loud bang, while the tractor-trailer continued up Sixth Avenue without me. As soon as I looked up at the traffic light again, Arkwright was gone.

And the fragment was gone with him.

Damn.

I clambered down from the marquee to the sidewalk below. I got a few curious looks and a couple of sneers from passing tourists, but no one stopped me or asked what I was doing there. Good old New York. You could always count on no one wanting to get involved.

I waited on the corner in front of Radio City until Bethany rolled up in the Escalade. I opened the passenger door and climbed into the seat, wincing. Every muscle in my body felt sore. She pulled back into traffic and glanced over at me.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I said.

“Well, you’re still in one piece, anyway. That’s more than can be said for people who’ve done things a lot less foolish.”

“I thought I could catch Arkwright,” I said. “I couldn’t. He’s too fast. How the hell is he so fast?”

The more I thought about Arkwright, the angrier I got. He’d killed Calliope and Yrouel. He’d stolen the fragment from us. He’d gotten away because I wasn’t fast enough or strong enough to stop him.

Somehow, he’d figured out one fragment was at the library. He must have seen us get there first and decided to ambush us when we came back out. We should have been expecting it. We should have been smarter.

But if Arkwright knew the location of one fragment, there was a good chance he knew where the others were hidden, too.

Now it was a race. If we didn’t find the other two fragments before he did, the whole world was toast. Arkwright would bind Nahash-Dred and use the demon as his own personal weapon of mass destruction. It would be the end of everything.

Twenty

I fidgeted on the edge of my bed. Bethany sat on a chair in front of me and brought a cotton ball soaked in rubbing alcohol toward my face. I pushed her hand away. “I told you, I’m fine. Stop fussing over me.”

“Arkwright beat you up pretty good,” she said. “I just want to make sure these cuts don’t get infected.”

“I got in a few good punches, too, you know,” I grumbled. I touched the cut on my lip and winced.

“Are you going to let me take care of it, or are you going to keep up this stupid macho act?”

I sighed. “Fine. Do whatever you want, if it’ll make you feel better.”

“Riiiight, this is about making
me
feel better,” she said.

She dabbed the cotton ball on a cut over my left eyebrow. The alcohol stung against the open wound. I winced a little. Kali sat in the corner and watched with intent fascination, clearly enjoying seeing me in pain.

“What are you staring at, stupid cat?” I grumbled at her. Kali only blinked in reply.

“Sounds like you two are really hitting it off,” Bethany said. She dropped the cotton ball onto a pile of used ones next to her chair. “Now take off your shirt.”

I unbuttoned my shirt and pulled it off. “Sometimes I think you only do this because you like getting me to take my shirt off.”

“Keep flattering yourself,” she said. “No one else will.”

I chuckled. For a moment it felt like old times again, before things had gotten tense between us.

Bethany gently inspected the dark, softball-sized bruise on my chest near my left arm. I fidgeted again, trying not to think about what the feel of her warm hands on my skin was doing to me. Then she poked the bruise a little too hard, and a sharp pain spiked through me. Problem solved.