Dream Dark (5 page)

It wasn’t signed, but we both knew who it was from.

“What am I, a spy now?” Link crumpled the paper and tossed it into the green metal trash can. I half expected it to catch fire when it hit the rim.

“Macon is supposed to be dead,” I reminded him.

Link bounced the bal from one hand to the other.

“Oh, right. I guess it isn’t that weird, then.” Only it was, and we both knew it.

If we only knew how weird.

CHAPTER 5

Priority Mail

Three hours later, Link knocked on Macon’s door in the Tunnels. He wondered if the Caster key would have worked on this door, too. He’d probably never know, since there was no way he was going to try it.

Macon Ravenwood wasn’t an Incubus anymore, but he was stil a seriously badass Caster. Even if he wouldn’t tel them what he could do.

Link was ticking off the possibilities in his mind when the door swung open. Macon Ravenwood was holding a glass of sweet tea. Big surprise. Pretty soon he was going to need an IV.

“Mr. Lincoln, I’m impressed. Four o’clock on the dot.” Macon stepped aside so Link could come in. “I believe punctuality is an entirely underrated quality, at least by your contemporaries.”

As usual, Link had no idea what Macon was saying. “Uh—okay, sir.”

“Please have a seat.” Macon gestured toward the pair of wing chairs in the corner. “I apologize for the cryptic nature of my message, but the matter we need to discuss is of great importance.”

“Sir?” Link dropped down into the chair, and the wood groaned.

“I need you to deliver an urgent message for me, Wesley.” Macon glanced at the polished table between the chairs. A heavy cream envelope was lying on it.

“You want me to deliver a letter?” Couldn’t Mr.

Eaton do that? He delivered the Casters’ mail, too.

Macon lifted the envelope and held it between his fingers. “This isn’t just any letter. The recipient of this letter is a very old friend of mine, and this correspondence must reach him. It’s a matter of critical importance, I’m afraid.” That part wasn’t surprising. Everything seemed dangerous and important if Macon was involved.

Link scratched his head. “Why can’t you deliver it yourself, sir?” It was a valid question.

“The route is a bit treacherous for a Caster, which is what I am these days.”

“Right.” Link doubted it. He might not be the sharpest tool in the shed, but even he knew there weren’t a lot of things that were too treacherous for Macon Ravenwood.

“I need an Incubus to deliver it, and my sister is indisposed.” Link was pretty sure Leah wouldn’t let Macon boss her and her giant mountain cat around.

That much made sense. Just like the idea that Link was the lackey in this situation.

Link gave up and stopped trying to figure it out.

“Where do you want me to take the letter?”

Macon handed it to Link. The paper was thick and heavy and securely sealed with wax. “Barbados.”

“You mean like the island?” Maybe there was a city up north named Barbados that Link didn’t know about. Like Cairo, in Mississippi. It was possible, as far as he knew. He had failed geography a bunch of times.

Macon looked amused. “Precisely the one, Mr.

Lincoln. Although if you take the Tunnels, you probably won’t get to see the Caribbean. Obidias lives too far inland.”

Obidias Trueblood. It was the name inscribed on the front of the envelope.

“You want me to
walk
to Barbados?”

“You can Travel, if you prefer. Obviously, it would be much more efficient.”

Link wasn’t about to try to teleport himself anywhere. As far as he was concerned, that was like asking him to jump out of a plane. “No, thanks, sir. I think I’l hoof it, if you don’t mind.”

Macon nodded. “Not at al . But you have to leave right away. I cannot stress the importance of the contents of that envelope enough.”

Link stuffed the envelope in his pocket. “How am I supposed to find my way to Barbados?” Link had gotten lost driving to Charleston once. Another time, he’d even cal ed and reported the Beater stolen when he forgot he’d parked it in the lot at the Stop & Steal. Fatty hadn’t let him live that one down for months.

Macon nodded toward the door. Boo Radley was sitting there, waiting. Link could almost swear Boo

sitting there, waiting. Link could almost swear Boo was rol ing his eyes as Link made his way to the door.

“Al right. Let’s get to Barbados, Boo.” The dog barked. “Get it?
Two
Barbados? Barbay-
dos
? After that, should we dial things up a notch and hit Barbay-
tres
?” Boo whined and turned back to Macon, who shook his head.

“Be careful, Mr. Lincoln. Our fate is in your hands.”

Now, that was a frightening thought, even to Link.

The Tunnels twisted and curved in front of him, disappearing into the darkness, but it was nothing Link hadn’t faced before. It could be worse. He could think of more dangerous things than the Tunnels and whatever he might find down here—as long as his mom stayed aboveground. His mom, and maybe that cup of yel ow pee.

Link reached into his back pocket and pul ed out his trusty gardening shears, snipping the air a few times for good measure. He was making a habit of bringing them whenever he visited Macon in the Tunnels. He felt much better with a pair of giant metal scissors in his hand, whether they were meant for clipping rosebushes or the backbone of a fetal pig in the summer school bio lab—not that he’d ever done either. It didn’t matter. Earlier this summer, he’d seen what those shears could do.

Which was good, because Link was moving deeper into the Tunnels than he’d ever been before.

He passed some places that looked familiar, but his memory was never great to begin with—one thing the Incubus blood
hadn’t
improved. He recognized Exile, the club where they’d found Ridley and Lena with John Breed and a whole bunch of Dark Supernaturals. Link knew he never wanted to see that place again. Luckily, Boo seemed to know the way.

The Caster dog kept going, careful y picking his way on padded paws, until they found themselves in the darkest bend yet. The farther the dog walked, the blacker the Tunnels became, and Link realized exactly how wel he could see in the dark now.

You’re almost there. Just a little farther and you
can dump the letter and go.

Link kept repeating the words silently, but he wasn’t sure they were true. Link could see a long stretch of darkness in front of him, like an enormous black subway tunnel except without the tracks.

He tried to distract himself by whistling one of the Holy Rol ers’ latest and worst songs. But the lyrics he’d been playing around with—about a beautiful ex-Siren turned Mortal girl—didn’t work anymore. The ex-Siren in the song was his girl, connected to him in ways his mind couldn’t even begin to understand.

He was stil thinking about her cocky smile and the way she chewed stick after stick of gum, the way old Wal ace Gunn chain-smoked Lucky Strikes, when he caught the scent of something unfamiliar and nauseating.

Motor oil and rotten eggs and singed hair.

Link breathed in again, gagging from the stench.

He stared ahead, but the Tunnel was seriously dark, even for a quarter Incubus. And there were noises.

Not the harmless kind of noises, like your house settling at night. These were real scare-the-crap-out-of-you noises.

Ragged, uneven breathing. Something sharp dragging against stone.

What the hell was that?

Boo stopped walking and growled, the black hair standing up along his back.

Two yel ow eyes were staring back from the depths of the Tunnel.

Link was smart enough to know a Dark Caster’s eyes when he saw them. Especial y after he had spent the better part of a year in love with one. But this wasn’t Ridley. Al he could think about was Sarafine. He wasn’t sure he had enough Incubus juice to face off against her. Boo growled again.

The figure stepped closer. It wasn’t Sarafine.

He could see it now, but he had no idea who or
what
it was.

As Link’s eyes settled on the smooth grayish-black skin, a part of him knew he was looking at a man, or what used to be one. Aside from the unnatural skin color and a head so bald it looked like it belonged in those alien photos, the facial features were completely human. Except for the enormous yel ow eyes—crazed and primal—like a rabid animal.

It was watching him, its eyes widening with anticipation as Link’s widened with fear. The figure stepped out of the black mouth of the Tunnel, where it had been lingering, and for a second Link was sure it
was
a man. He was wearing ratty black pants that were too short, as if he’d outgrown them a long time ago, and nothing else. Shirtless and barefoot, his body was the same sickening shade of bruised black as his face.

But that’s where the physical similarities between this
thing
and a man ended. As it extended its hand, reaching toward him, Link saw a web of skin that stretched from the bottom of its arm down to the creature’s waist, like a deformed wing. It looked like something out of one of Link’s comic books, but he couldn’t turn the page and make it disappear.

He jumped back, banging into the wal next to him.

He smel ed the blood as it ran down his arm.

The creature’s head jerked up. “Where is the boy going?”

A chil ran down the back of Link’s neck.

The voice had a creepy quality that was always a sign someone was on the way to a padded cel , in the movies. It sounded like the thing was talking to someone right next to it, but there was no one there.

At least Link hoped so.

“I—I was just leavin’, man. Me and my dog,” Link stammered. “Sorry to bother you.”

“The boy wanders away from home, and what does he see?” The voice rose and fel in the singsong rhythm of a terrifying and twisted nursery rhyme.

Link wasn’t planning to stick around and find out.

He started to back up, and the creature reached out its broken and bent fingers, exposing tears in the winglike web of dark skin extending from its body.

It bared its teeth in a demented smile while singing the disturbing rhyme. “The monster in the mirror waiting to kil me…”

For a second, the thing stared at him as if it had presented a riddle for Link to solve and it was presented a riddle for Link to solve and it was waiting for an answer. Link didn’t have one.

The smile twisted into a sneer and, without warning, the thing lunged at him.

Boo charged forward, but the creature caught the dog in the air as he jumped, knocking him against the exposed stone wal . Boo yelped, and Link felt his hands curve into fists.

Grayish-black fingers reached for Link, and his instinct took over. He lurched forward, and in a split second his hand was around the creature’s throat.

The movement happened so fast that it surprised them both, and Link almost forgot to tighten his grip.

The thing lashed out, clawing at Link. “The boy is too far from home.” The voice was strained, a hiss more than anything else. A hand caught the side of Link’s face, broken nails sinking into his skin.