Night Terrors (7 page)

“Would you say that’s a fair assessment?” he concluded.

“You forgot the guy in the pirate outfit and his giant dog,” Jinx said.

His clothes were still shredded from where the demon dog had clawed him, but the flesh underneath had healed for the most part. Some faint scars remained, testament to how seriously the beast had wounded him. I’m sure Sanderson noticed – no detail, however small, escaped him – but he made no acknowledgment of Jinx’s injuries. I was certain he understood their serious implications. Whatever Pirate-Boy and Demon-Dog were, they were hardly ordinary street toughs.

I didn’t think it was possible, but Sanderson’s gaze grew even colder. “Thank you, Mr Jinx.”

Jinx grinned. “Happy to help.”

If we’d been alone, I’d have swatted Jinx on the arm for being a smartass. But I didn’t want to start squabbling with my partner in front of the boss – especially when he was giving us a dressing-down. It would only make him angrier. I had to content myself with gritting my teeth and shooting Jinx a dark look, which of course he blithely ignored.

“Not to nitpick,” I said, “but the Bean came to life because of an Incursion. We had no control over that.”

Commander Sanderson was a tall, slender black man in his sixties, with short white hair and a full, neatly trimmed beard that still had a few flecks of pepper amidst the salt. He was dressed, as always, in a sharp, expensive-looking dark blue suit and highly polished black shoes. His tie had an image of the Maelstrom on it, and if you watched long enough, you’d see the multicolored swirls of energy slowly move. Some say he’s human, some say he’s an Incubus of one kind or another, and some say he’s a different sort of being altogether – perhaps even the legendary Sandman himself. To me, he was more like an ill-tempered school principal, and it seemed that Jinx and I spent far too much time in his office being scolded.

His office was Spartan to the point of utter sterility. The walls, ceiling, and floor were white, and the reflected illumination from the fluorescent lights made the entire room seem to glow. I always felt like I needed to wear sunglasses when I was there, and I usually left with a mild headache. There were no pictures or art on the walls, only the dream catcher symbol of the Shadow Watch behind his desk, fashioned from gleaming chrome.

He had no office furniture, save for his desk and chair, and the two chairs that sat in front of it. They were all of modern design: uncomfortable glass, chrome, and plastic monstrosities. His only piece of office equipment was a tablet computer that rested on the desk’s glass tabletop. The screen swirled with Maelstrom colors, but I didn’t know if the image was simply a screensaver or if the computer was actually linked to the Maelstrom itself. I’d never gotten around to asking and now certainly didn’t seem like the time.

Sanderson looked at us for another moment before releasing a weary sigh. He then returned to his desk, sat, and placed his hands on the table, fingers interlaced. I knew from experience that gesture was not a positive sign. Nevertheless, when he spoke again, his tone was calm, his manner relaxed.

“Incursions are rare, but not unheard of. The two of you were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time.” He paused, then added, “Which is something you seem to have a particular talent for.”

“There’ve been a dozen Incursions over the last couple months in Chicago,” I said. “That doesn’t sound so rare to me.” Incursions are times when the dimensional barrier between Earth and the Maelstrom grows thin, allowing M-energy to leak through and wreak havoc with reality.

“All of which have been minor for the most part,” Sanderson said.

“Until today,” Jinx said.

“Until today,” he agreed. “But the M-gineering department will be looking into that. As for the other matters at hand, we have all available officers in the city searching for Quietus, and I’ve relayed your report about the masked man’s sword to M-gineering. I’ve never heard of an M-blade that large – not one that was stable, anyway. Perhaps they’ll be able to determine something about the man’s identity by investigating from that angle.”

Emboldened by Sanderson’s calmer manner, I said, “Jinx and I can hit the streets and start asking around about Pirate-Boy… uh, I mean the masked man. A sword like that wouldn’t go unnoticed.”

“Neither would a big-ass killer dog,” Jinx added.

“I don’t think that would be a wise move, Ms Hawthorne.” Sanderson’s voice betrayed no hint of emotion, but I recognized his remark for the rebuke it was.

“I know we could’ve handled the whole situation better,” I began, struggling to keep my emotions on a tight rein. “But there was no way we could’ve anticipated the Incursion. And as for our encounter with Shocktooth, it had to be a setup of some kind. She was obviously working with the masked man. She took us off guard with her initial confrontation, and then the man and his Incubus attacked, allowing her to scoop up Quietus and carry him away.”

Even though I hadn’t remained unconscious for long, by the time I’d come to, Quietus, Shocktooth, Pirate-Boy, and the demon dog were gone. Jinx had been stunned by the impact when he struck me, but he hadn’t blacked out. Even so, he hadn’t seen which direction they’d gone in. After calling in a report to the Rookery on my wisper, Jinx and I had attempted to question witnesses, but – surprise, surprise – they all claimed they hadn’t seen anything.

Sanderson looked at Jinx. “Do you concur with your partner’s assessment?”

Jinx was slumped in his chair, staring up at the ceiling while he blew spit bubbles. His gaze shifted to Sanderson.

“Sure. Whatever she says.”

Sanderson sighed again, more heavily this time.

“So, you’re suggesting that despite the fact that there’s no way to track officers on Earth from Nod, and no way to predict the precise location of the Door they’ll enter through, that somehow Shocktooth and this mystery man knew
exactly
where you would enter Nod, and they arranged to be there waiting for you in order to free Quietus?”

I didn’t know what to say to that, but fortunately, Jinx did.

“Why not?” he said, still staring up at the ceiling. “The pirate had a stable M-sword, something no one’s ever been able to make before. That’s one impossible thing. What’s one more?”

Sanderson considered this point for a moment. I smiled at Jinx to let him know I was both impressed and grateful. In response, he stuck his index finger up his nose and began digging around.

A faint expression of disgust crossed Sanderson’s face, and he did his best to ignore Jinx’s nasal excavation.

“And who do you surmise possesses the capability of obtaining information across dimensions?” Sanderson asked.

I thought for a moment, then gave the only answer that came to me. “The Lords of Misrule.”

Sanderson looked at me as if I were crazy, which didn’t bother me. But when Jinx did so as well, I knew I better explain myself fast before Sanderson sent me upstairs to Somnocology for a complete psych eval.

“The Lords have been around as long as the Shadow Watch, right? Isn’t it possible that they’ve made some technological advancements that we haven’t? What about the masked man’s sword? We don’t have anything like it, do we?”

Sanderson considered this. “The Lords of Misrule were once our equal in power, it’s true, but their organization has fallen into decline over the last century. These days, they’re mostly involved with cross-world smuggling and the illegal drug trade. The time when they plotted to rule both Nod
and
Earth is long past.” He dismissed the matter with a shake of his head. “I think it far more likely that your encounter with Shocktooth was a random one. At first, she may have simply wished to settle accounts with you, but we’ve had a bounty out on Quietus for some time. When she recognized that it was him you had in custody, she realized that if the Shadow Watch was willing to pay for him, others would too. And quite handsomely. She saw an opportunity and took it. Simple as that.”

“And the masked man?” I asked.

“Same thing. He recognized Quietus and thought he’d cut himself in for a share of the profit by helping Shocktooth. That, or he simply hates officers and thought he’d have some fun fighting with them. Either way, it adds up to a second random encounter, one that further complicated the situation. That’s all.”

I wasn’t so sure, but I’d already stated my case, and since I didn’t want to rile Sanderson up again, I decided to let the matter rest. For now.

I changed the subject. “So why don’t you want Jinx and I looking for Quietus? Is it some kind of punishment?”

“No, but consider what a mess the two of you have made of things, you
ought
to be punished. I have a different concern.” He paused and his eyes narrowed as he regarded me. “Tell me, Ms Hawthorne… Audra. Are you getting enough rest?”

Jinx – finger in his other nostril now – let out a loud guffaw. “He called you by your first name! You’re in real trouble now, Mommy!”

“Fuck off,” I muttered out of the side of my mouth without taking my gaze off Sanderson.

He went on before I could respond.

“Tonight isn’t the first time that you’ve not performed at optimal level. I’m well aware that in the field, events occur at a rapid pace, and unexpected developments are the norm rather than the exception. All the more reason why officers –
human
officers – need to make sure they’re tending to their physiological and psychological needs.”

Once humans bring an Incubus to life – in other words, become Ideators – they no longer need to sleep. Ever. In fact, they can’t sleep if they try. Sleep aids are ineffective. It takes a massive dose of tranquilizer to put us out, and even then we don’t stay unconscious for long.

But not needing sleep isn’t the same as not needing rest. Ideators still get tired physically, as well as mentally. And when that happens, we start making mistakes. Not so bad if you’re trying to make lunch and accidentally put strawberry jelly on your ham sandwich instead of mustard. A much bigger deal if you’re an officer tasked with preventing living nightmares from causing trouble – such as eviscerating people – and fail.

Sanderson was accusing me of not resting enough to the point where it had put me off my game. And the hell of it was, I feared he was right. Not that I was about to admit it.

“I make sure to get the minimum daily requirement–” I said.

Jinx let out an amused snort.

“
At least,
” I continued.

Sanderson looked at me for several moments, face expressionless. A centuries-old statue displays more emotion than he does when he gets like that. I hate it.

I let out a defeated sigh. “Fine. Lately I’ve been getting only a couple hours rest a day.”

“A couple?” Jinx said.

This time, I punched him on the arm as hard as I could. Sanderson didn’t chastise me. He probably wished he could’ve done it himself. Jinx has that effect on people.

“And if you function so well with so little rest,” Jinx said, smirking, “then why do you need to take so many hits of rev a day?”

If we hadn’t been in Sanderson’s office, I’d have slammed the butt of my trancer against the side of Jinx’s head. As it was, all I could do was glare at him – which, of course, only made his smirk wider. Sanderson scowled at me, but he didn’t follow up on Jinx’s remark, and I thanked the First Dreamer for small mercies.

“An Ideator needs a minimum of five hours of rest per day, Ms Hawthorne. And yes, I realize that your duties as an officer often require you to keep irregular hours. Nevertheless, you do no one any good, least of all yourself, if you don’t keep yourself sharp. Am I clear?”

I wanted to argue more, but I knew it would only make things worse. “Yes, sir.”

Sanderson narrowed his eyes, as if he were attempting to gauge my sincerity. Finally, he nodded, and then looked at Jinx. “I’m charging you with the responsibility of making certain she gets at least five hours of rest per day. Five
uninterrupted
hours.”

Jinx smiled at me. “I could always clonk her over the head with Cuthbert Junior a few times. That should put you down and keep you down for a good long while.”

He was kidding. I hoped.

“I promise I’ll get some rest as soon as I can, but you need every officer you can get to help track down Quietus. Not only do we need to prevent further murders, we need to find out if he has some link to the Incursion that took place.”

“While I’m an admitted aficionado of random acts of chaos, it does seem awfully coincidental that an Incursion would take place as we were trying to capture Quietus,” Jinx said.

“Are you suggesting Quietus somehow
caused
the Incursion?” Sanderson said. “Impossible! Incursions are a natural phenomenon.” He thought for a moment. “And even if an individual could initiate an Incursion on his or her own, according to your report, Quietus was also attacked by the mutated sculpture.”

Jinx shrugged. “Sometimes a prank backfires on you. Not that it’s ever happened to me,” he hastened to add.

I smirked but didn’t reply.

“Rest assured, the Shadow Watch intends to make recapturing Quietus its highest priority.”

“Without us,” I said.

Sanderson stood and walked from behind his desk. He clasped his hands behind his back and paced around the office once more as he spoke.

“Do you remember when we recruited you, Audra?”

Back to first names. Not a good sign. “Sure. It’s not the kind of thing a girl forgets.”

“The Nightclad Council wasn’t convinced that you and Jinx would make suitable officers. Jinx for obvious reasons…”

Jinx stuck his tongue out at Sanderson. It transformed into a hissing serpent that glared at our boss before slithering back into Jinx’s mouth.

“And you, Audra, because you were so young.” He stopped pacing and turned to regard me. “And more importantly because you were so afraid. Of everything, but most especially the Incubus you created.”