Madhouse (22 page)

Sawney—he had done that. It was good to keep that in mind. If anyone was to blame, it was him. Boggle had been paid, she'd agreed to the task and the price. She had understood the dangers. I lowered the gun. "Look, kiddies. Mom's up. Let's everybody calm down."

The orange eyes were dulled, but there was still a spark behind the film—a murderous gleam that made her offspring seem like a litter of playful pups. "You. You come here. You dare."

"We were concerned." Niko's grip had firmed on his sword. "Remember that Sawney is the one that did this to you, not us."

He was echoing my thoughts, but Boggle didn't seem to buy it. She came on to solid ground; slowly, but she came. The boglets gathered momentarily, growling and hissing, then scattered. "I am hurt. I will not heal for many days. Many that I cannot hunt, because of the Redcap." The gums were mottled an unhealthy gray with the black, but the teeth were the same as they'd been before. Impressive. "Because of you."

All our best intentions were fast heading down the tubes. We could retreat, but she could follow, as could the brood. We would have to hurt someone, most likely kill someone. It wasn't what we wanted, but it looked like that's what we were going to get. "Boggle," I said, "don't do this, okay? Just fucking don't." I'd almost said Boggy. I'd almost forgotten for a second this wasn't our old boggle.

She lowered her head, chuffing a humid breath and ripping the earth to deep furrows with random strokes of her claws. "Can't hunt. Can't
hunt."

Food wasn't the problem. The kids were capable of bringing in all the muggers needed. They were old enough and big enough, but, as I'd thought before, this boggle wasn't like the last. She wanted to hunt,
needed
to hunt, and in her eyes we'd screwed that up for her. Temporarily certainly. And right now, she was tempted to deny that fate with us.

The hand flexed again and more dirt flew. "Can't hunt." It was said mournfully this time, and she deflated as the eyes shifted from my gun to Nik's sword. The puffing of muddy scales settled and she decreased in size by a third, not that she wasn't still huge. "Cannot hunt. Cannot roam. Cannot be."

Now I really did feel like shit.

"You will heal," Niko said. "You will hunt again."

Her homicidal mood shifting, Boggle settled onto the ground. "He cannot suffer enough. Never enough."

"I think you'd be surprised how much we can make him suffer." Niko lowered his blade in slow, wary increments. "He was burned at the stake once. We'll make him wish for that day again."

The orange eyes burned with sudden clarity through the clouded lens. "He cannot be killed. Cannot."

"We will kill Sawney," Niko countered with certainty. "That, I promise you."

Then he told her how.

Niko's promise and the information turned out to be enough for Boggle. We ended up walking away. I had my suspicions there was more to it than actual forgiveness, faith, and goodwill. I thought that Boggle didn't want to lose one or more of her children. Whatever the reason, it didn't matter. We walked away and no boglets had to die, and that was a good day.

We hadn't learned anything new about Sawney, but that had been a long shot anyway. Boggle had roamed the tunnels separate from us, looking for him, but nothing had caught her attention other than a few bodies floating in the water. I didn't ask what she'd done with them, if anything. They were dead already. No one except Boggle who could use what was left of them. It sucked for them and their families, but there you go.

On the way back, we discussed Robin and came to the conclusion that if we didn't catch whoever was after him in the act, we were up the creek. I'd thought it was possible the guy hit by the train might've been the only one behind it all, but from the way Ishiah was pushing the puck, it now seemed less likely. With the Sawney situation, Robin's problem couldn't have come at a worse time. He also couldn't have picked a worse time to be a stubborn asshole about it, but that was Goodfellow for you.

Ishiah had said Robin had done something not quite ethical in the past. No surprise, right? But from the way he had said that, from the way Robin refused to talk about it, not ethical, in reality, probably didn't begin to cover it. Not for the retribution it had put into motion. We didn't even know how long ago whatever had happened had taken place.

I did know it was a mess, and if we hadn't needed him fighting with us so badly, I'd have been tempted to leave him at Promise's with Ishiah to keep an eye on him. But we needed everyone we could get. Hell, I planned on asking Ishiah if he'd close the bar for a night and take on Sawney with us. And if he could bring another peri or two with him, that would be fan-frigging-tastic.

It didn't turn out that way.

"No," he said in flat refusal. "I'm sorry."

He didn't sound sorry as he stood behind the bar, arms folded and looking a little too much like Niko for my peace of mind. Now that I'd had the thought, it was a done deal. I couldn't unthink it, and I had no desire to be roaming around Goodfellow's subconscious cravings, sexual or otherwise. None at all.

"I thought you wanted to help Robin," I demanded. I'd stopped by the bar as Niko went on to check out that idea he'd had regarding Sawney. It was a good idea, damn good. Here was hoping it worked.

"I do want to help Goodfellow with his problem from the past, but Sawney Beane is not that problem. I have to prioritize."

He actually said it. Prioritize. An insane mass murderer, unknown assassins, creatures with wings, a man with genes far more demon than angel, talking birds, talking
mummies,
dead wolves, revenant after revenant, skinned boggles, and he actually had the stones to say prioritize.

I was…well, hell, not to be repetitive … boggled.

"But you can have the night off," he added politely. "I'll consider it a personal day. Your check will, of course, be docked."

Forget boggled, now I was just pissed.

"Sawney could kill Robin as easily as whoever's after him. So you're saying you'll be okay with that?" I leaned across the bar to emphasize the accusation.

"Priorities," he said, unmoved, "and I also have a prior commitment. Not that that's any business of yours." Thick dark brows lowered. "I would think that you would be more concerned about preparing for the battle than berating your employer. And if you keep mutilating the customers, you won't have one of those for much longer."

I managed to leave without taking a swing at him, but it was a near thing. As Ishiah had a temper every bit as bad as mine, he would've swung back. He might look like a Nordic version of Niko, but there the resemblance ended. No matter how long-lived Ish might be, he was hell on wheels. He might be the most moral son of a bitch in the city, according to Robin, but right now, he wasn't any damn help.

That would turn out to be a theme of the day.

Delilah turned out to be unavailable, per Promise. In other words, she couldn't find her with a bloodhound—her or any other wolves willing to go up against Sawney again. Boggle was down for the count and Nushi was, as he'd said, a healer, not a fighter. Once again it was down to the four of us. Four against countless pseudo corpses and one genuine corpse returned to life, bringing his scythe and a hunger that couldn't be sated.

Two…no, three students now, and one maintenance man. I knew better than to think that would feed all of Sawney's new clan. They hunted some on campus, but I knew they were bringing home more bacon than that. Using Columbia as a central location and the asylum tunnels as home, they were bringing them in more than groups of two and three. Revenants had a hunger to almost match that of Sawney. Hunger to hunger, obedience and madness, a large clan of sheer starvation and raving insanity…

Four of us against that. Why the hell not?

"Don't forget the head shot," Niko said at my shoulder.

We stood just inside the front doors of Buell Hall— an empty Buell Hall thanks to Dr. Nushi. He'd cooked up a fumigation for a rat infestation scheme that had kept the place locked up for the day and now the night. He'd claimed he'd seen a few of Mickey's wayward cousins at a recent speech to the premed club and they couldn't close down the place fast enough.

"There's nothing like a head shot to distract a guy, I'll give you that," I said. "Just don't forget how fast he is. I'll do my best, but …" I gave a shrug and a cold grin. "At least I can promise to hit part of him. He might be able to walk around with a fist-sized hole in him, but I'd like to see him do it with sixteen or so of them."

"Always the optimist." He slapped me lightly on the back. "You restore my faith in the human condition."

I didn't bother to open my mouth on that one. One comment on how I was only half of the human condition would get me a painful nerve pinch. I let it go. "I try," I snorted, hefting the Eagle. I had a handful of extra clips on me, this time all explosive rounds. Revenants, Sawney, I didn't care which I blew apart tonight.

"You do realize I'm still in utter agony, a virtual cripple that you've dragged to near certain death." Robin was immaculate in copper shirt and brown slacks. His sword's hilt was chased with matching copper and small emeralds. It was a beautiful and graceful creation, but that didn't make the edge of the blade any less deadly. I wondered what excuse he'd given Seraglio to pack that up and bring it to Promise's apartment. Showing off his weapons collection maybe. That would work. Living as a human car salesman didn't stop "Rob Fellows" from being one helluva show-off.

"Yes, when you attempted to sexually assault my cleaning lady, your pain and suffering was abundantly clear." Promise's heather eyes narrowed and focused on a small gold hoop decorated with one tiny emerald drop that hung from Robin's ear. "Is that my earring you are wearing?"

"It matched the sword," he dismissed. "And it gives me a piratical look. I both pillage and I plunder. In fact, I all but invented the concepts," he said as he raised one wicked eyebrow. "Besides," he added carelessly, "you'll get it back."

"If
you survive that near-certain death you spoke of?" she reminded with sweet poison.

"I'm sure you'll pluck it from my cold, clammy earlobe, Mrs. Nottinger-Granville-Schoenstein-Parsons-Depry. You seem to be quite adept at that."

A few days at Promise's place had disintegrated the truce the two had once had. Rooming with a friend never worked out when it came right down to it. Mild affection could turn to homicidal fury from one towel left on the floor or, in Robin's case, one orgy in the living room. Credit where credit was due, the majority of them did seem to be nurses. Or at least they were dressed like nurses. I didn't notice any of them treating his cracked rib before Promise began throwing them through the front door, but the medical field is an arcane business. I might have missed it.

"After I'm done with you, you won't have enough molecules joined together to form an earlobe," she snapped back. The Egyptian dagger Niko had given her was in her hand and ready to taste blood.

"We never should've had two kids," I said to Niko. "One would've been plenty."

He had doffed his duster and was hefting a backpack over his long-sleeve gray shirt, the steel bands around his wrists barely showing. There was no room on his back for the sheath of his katana and he was carrying it in one hand. "Do not put this on me. I've raised one already."

Identical looks of contempt hit us both. "Okay," I said hurriedly. "I'm ready. Nik, you ready?" How much worse could Sawney be than a pissed-off vampire and puck joining forces against us? Then, all joking aside, I asked, "Robin, seriously, you up for this?" He'd insisted that he was. The poison had passed from his system days ago, the rib was cracked and ached, but it wouldn't hold him back in a fight.

"Up for it? Kid, I was on the beach at Troy. By the way, Achilles? Everything they say he was." He lifted his chin, gaze unwavering. "Believe me, I can handle this."

Poisoned, shot, nearly an extra in Hitchcock's
The Birds,
why would he want to handle it after all that? I didn't want to admit it, had been struggling with it for a long time, but I knew the reason. He was our friend. My friend. Jesus, I was such a girl. When the hell had I gotten so damn soft?

"Just don't get your ass killed, okay?" I ordered gruffly. I didn't wait for an answer. We'd scouted out the upper building and it was clear. Now it was time to head downward, and I did. I moved down the hall to the basement-access door and hit the stairs.

There was nothing there. Not if you didn't count the stench of Sawney and the revenants. It was enough to have me breathing through my mouth. "Where's the tunnel entrance?"

Niko had obtained a map of the tunnel system from Nushi, memorized it, gone over it with me several times, and then drawn it in permanent ink on the back of my hands and on my forearms. Following that, he'd stuffed the map in my pocket, saying, "In case we're separated. It's not enough, I fear, but it's the best I can do." Brothers believe in you, but they also know you. I know east from west, but that was the most I could hope for.

"In the southeast corner, beside the furnace."

Which would be one reason the smell was so strong. It was literally cooking against the surface of the furnace. I followed Niko and then helped him pry up the metal trapdoor in the floor. It wasn't locked, but it had been. The remnants of a padlock lay off to one side. The metal was heavy as hell in our hands and we eased it down soundlessly to stare into the depths. More stairs, but these were much older. Splintered wood framed with iron, they disappeared into the darkness. One whiff was all I needed and I nodded. "Home sweet home."

Robin stared over my shoulder and sighed plaintively, "At least the beach at Troy was warm. There was sun and sand."

"Bloodstained sand," Niko pointed out as he started down.

"It was still sand." Robin followed him. "In my life I've learned you take the small pleasures where you find them."

We weren't going to find any of those below, I knew. No small pleasures—only the very large satisfaction of putting Sawney down, this time for good. I waved Promise on. Having her at Robin's back might keep him more on his toes. Danger from all sides, that would keep the adrenaline pumping and the senses sharp and ready. And if I enjoyed the hunted look he threw over his shoulder before he melted into the murk, hey, that was just gravy.

When Promise vanished below, I turned on the flashlight I carried in my left hand and went down after them. Gun in one hand, torch in the other, I walked down the steps with care. As creaky as they looked, they were sturdy beneath my feet.

"All clear." Niko's low murmur came drifting up past stone and plaster walls. They once would've been completely covered with plaster and painted. Over the years that plaster had been soaked time and time again and had rotted. Handfuls were gone in some spots and in other areas nothing but stone remained.

There were splatters on the steps, the stone and the filthy plaster. Brown and dried. Blood. One helluva lot of blood. Sawney had picked his cave all right and it was a good one, up until a few revenants had gotten sloppy and poached from the campus. Then they'd actually killed and fed aboveground right at their front door. Sawney was insane, but he was smart. He wouldn't have ordered that or allowed it if he knew. You don't shit in your own backyard; every good two-legged predator knows that. That meant the discipline wasn't as all-encompassing as it seemed, at least not with all of them. It was a good sign. If we could take Sawney, the revenants might scatter. They would definitely be less of a threat if they reverted to typical revenant fighting skills. Every ghoul for himself.

At the bottom of the stairs the brown stains covered the entire floor, from wall to wall. I could picture it. The body, maybe only half dead, of the victim being tossed down the stairs like garbage. If they weren't dead at the top, I hoped like hell they were when they hit the bottom. What kind of world was it when that could be credited as an actual hope?

Sawney's world.

The tunnel wasn't as cramped as I thought it might be, but it made me claustrophobic nonetheless. There were no rooms, no alcoves, nothing—just one long range of tunnel. You could go forward or back, but that was it. There was no spreading out if someone caught you from the front and behind. It wasn't a good tactical position to be in. We were moving at a pace slow enough that I could walk backward with gun ready for any revenant that might be bringing home a doggy bag. It was a very real possibility. We'd chosen night for the assault as we hoped most of the revenants would be out hunting. Sawney might be as well, but if he was, once he caught dinner he'd come home with it. That's all we cared about—nailing him when he did.

If we'd come during the day, they all would've been down here. Not a good prospect for success. Revenants could and did pass during the daylight if they covered up with hooded jackets to hide slick flesh and wore sunglasses to conceal a milky flash of eye. If they kept their head down, they could slide through the crowds, but mixing with the populace was different than killing and dragging a body across campus. Nighttime was best for that sort of work.