Shadowman (19 page)

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Authors: Erin Kellison

BOOK: Shadowman
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Khan could not leave her, not with such precious little time they had left together, not with a devil headed to Segue, and Layla's life in the balance. Not with the wraiths and wights bearing down. Not now that he'd known the lost, abandoned child she'd been. “No.”
Ballard's jaw flexed at the refusal. “You misunderstand me,” he said. “We are running out of options. We want to give Layla the time she needs, but we will act on our own if we must. In either case, the gate to Hell cannot remain on Earth.”
Again that conviction pouring out of them. Shadow still seethed across the winter frigid Earth, but they paid it no mind. They were all ready to die.
“Please try,” Custo said. “I do not like the alternative.”
“As ever, you are a murderer,” Khan cut back.
“Shadowman!” It was a new voice, Talia's.
Khan bent his head in the direction of his daughter, who was pushing a stroller across the grass, the babes within bundled for a morning walk. Her arrival was so convenient, it smacked of prearrangement.
“This is not your concern, Talia,” Khan said.
“The hell it isn't. I lost her, too.” His daughter's face was pale, eyes sad. She'd heard everything: the gate; the devil; Layla's life, now at its end.
“This morning wraiths were falling from the trees,” Shadowman said, “and you expect me to leave her here?”
“Is it safe for my children?”
Nowhere was safe for those children.
Talia's gaze grew hot. “Besides, I'd like a little time with her myself. And if this gate business is as
hellish
as I've been told, then you need to destroy it. It's your responsibility.”
So indeed her presence here this morning was not a coincidence. It was part of The Order's design for his compliance. Clever.
“Please don't let Layla's life become connected to such a legacy of pain and fear,” she said.
“Her life is already at its end, and you ask me to give her up again?”
“Not give her up. Never that.” Talia stepped forward. “We'll keep her safe for you. The devil is mortal, so Segue security has a good chance of keeping it out.”
By nature, the fae did not age, but Khan felt himself grow old. “A
wight
nearly had her just moments ago, and they are not mortal.”
Ballard's interest sharpened. “A draug? Are the wraiths so far along then?”
“Yes, yet another reason why I am needed
here.
”
Talia put her body in front of her children. Her eyes went dark as she, too, drew from Twilight for strength. Between clenched teeth, she asked, “What's a wight or a draug?”
“Wight and draug are the same, old in the history of the world,” Ballard said. “It is a night creature, a wraith starved into an insubstantial corporeal form, so the Earth's gravity does not hold it. They are hungry to feed, but lacking all human mores and intelligence.”
“They cannot be caged either,” Khan said. “Adam needs to begin digging
barrows
, or graves. Wights can only be trapped in the earth, as if they are buried.”
“You are safe enough during the day.” Ballard looked away from Talia, dismissing her.
“And I'll be here at night,” Khan finished.
Ballard shook his head. “Not good enough. Every second the gate remains on Earth, mortality is in grave danger.”
“Mortality depends on Segue, too,” Custo said. “Shadowman's solution makes sense.”
“Do not think to speak for me, boy,” Khan said.
Ballard inclined his head to Custo. “You forfeited your voice in this matter when you gave Shadowman the hammer.”
“I like it, too,” Talia interrupted, nodding, her breath coming hard with her relief. “Khan with you during the day, here at night.”
“The irony,” Ballard said to Khan, “is that you should be about your duty in Twilight, ushering the dead. No. I will not haggle the terms of your cooperation. You will come, now, and see to the gate, or we will see to the gate ourselves.”
Khan smiled, the plain of Shadow going utterly still. “
You
misunderstand
me
. Death does not haggle. Does not bargain. Does not bow. Harm Layla, and the devils and wights will be the least of your concerns.”
Silence reigned over the parley.
Then Ballard's face flushed red to match his anger, but his expression was stone. “For the good of man, I concede.”
“Women, too, I hope,” Talia murmured.
Khan glanced over at the rising sun, yellow bright. The wraiths were gone; Layla was safe for the moment. Time was short. “I'm ready now.”
 
 
Layla was about to take a seat in the jeep when soldier-man Kev jerked her back.
“Black widow,” he said and swatted a big, black, and venomous spider. Once, twice, three times before it curled up its extralong legs and died.
Her time to die? Forget that. But Layla's heart was thumping. The forest bramble gave way to bumpy grass, which climbed to a single-lane access road. Kev took the road at a good clip, and when he broke into the valley, she spotted the castle of Segue.
The sunlight was behind her now, the sky pale blue, yet the building was only partially illuminated. The Escher effect again. Inky darkness crawled up the west wing so that not even the windows reflected the morning. The other part of the building looked solid, lightening with the rising sun.
The sight tugged at her mind, as it had that day when she'd come to snap a photo of Talia Thorne. Something was off about the building. Something wrong, dangerous. It made her feel as if she were small and exposed while a massive, violent storm hung on the horizon, but on a horizon line that Layla did not understand.
This was exactly what she'd been talking about with Talia.
Squeezing her eyes shut, she concentrated on relaxing. On breathing.
All her life she'd fought these kinds of visions. She'd pushed them into the back of her mind and had gotten along just fine. Well, mostly fine. She paid her rent. Got an education. And she had a story to report. If she focused on that, the fever in her heart would quiet.
She opened her eyes and the shadow on the building pulsed. Grasped.
Which made Layla gulp hard. Somewhere inside that building, Talia was playing with her children.
“Don't worry, Ms. Mathews,” Kev said. “We're almost there.”
She should tell them, just in case. These people dealt with scary crap every day—angels and fae and Shadow and who knew what else. They might even already know the darkness was there and weren't worried about it. After all, Khan used
Shadow
for his magic, and what was that thing on Segue but a great big shadow?
Or maybe . . . She might not be able to paint like Kathleen, but she had the same ability to
see
. And once in a while she could capture what she saw on film.
Dr. Patel, a couple of male nurses, and a stretcher were waiting for her at the rear of the building. A massive loading dock was open for their convenience, and Kev stopped there.
She shuffled out of the jeep on her own.
“I'm not getting on that thing,” Layla said, as she passed the stretcher. She left Patel no choice but to lead her through the underfloors of Segue to wherever he was going to look at her calf, which stung fiercely, but was in no way life-threatening. Though the ceilings were low, the corridors were modern, sleek, and white, a startling counterpoint to the restoration on the main floors. Offices and lab space were off to each side. They went through sliding doors to a small clinic.
Zoe was waiting there, irritation communicated in every tense muscle of her body. She pointedly ignored Layla with a hostile drag of her gaze to Patel. “I thought you were coming up.”
“I'm sorry,” he said, professional despite her demanding tone. “We had an emergency.”
Zoe jacked a thumb Layla's way. “Her?”
“Yes, and I'll need to take a look at Ms. Mathews's injuries before I can see Abigail.” Dr. Patel gestured to a screen partition. Layla assumed an examination table was on the other side. “In the meantime, I can send one of the nurses.”
“I don't want a nurse. I want you. Right now,” Zoe said. “And you're wasting your time with
Ms. Mathews.
She's going to die anyway. Abigail's seen it.”
Which was the last straw. Zoe was mean, but Layla suddenly felt a whole lot meaner. “I'm not going to die. Not now, not ever. Got it?”
Took a sec for the “not ever” to sound stupid.
Zoe was already laughing in her face. “There are forces at work here that you can't even imagine.” To Dr. Patel she said, “Look. Abigail can't keep anything down. It's been twenty-four hours. Twenty-four and a half with”—Zoe tilted her head toward Layla—“
her
drama.”
“Ms. Mathews, if you will please . . .”
My drama?
Layla had just dodged death for the fifth time in twenty-four hours. And apparently, she was destined to die any second now. A little drama was warranted. And as for forces beyond her imagination, if someone would loan her a camera, she'd show them something that would make them squeak but good.
“I'll be up shortly,” Dr. Patel repeated to Zoe, pulling the screen open.
Sure enough, a stainless steel table waited. Layla used her arms to lift herself up, then scooted to lie on her side. Her scratches did not need this much attention.
The clinic door whisked open, and Talia walked in, her gaze dark with worry. “What happened?”
“Oh, shit,” Zoe said, “if it isn't Princess Die.”
“Nice to see you, too, Zoe.”
“Abigail is
starving
and your Dr. Patel is bent on looking at Ms. Mathews's boo-boo.”
Dr. Patel was unwrapping Layla's field dressing, murmuring, “Not bad at all.”
“Zoe,” Talia said, “will you please wait outside?”
“I'm not going anywhere.”
Talia took a deep breath, for strength, Layla guessed. “I'm not asking.”
That's when Layla noticed that Zoe was shaking, her gaze filling with resentment as she looked at Talia. “You did this to Abigail. Made her sick. Made her use Shadow. She wouldn't be this bad off if it weren't for you. Abigail saved your life, and you're letting her go hungry.”
“She has the absolute best care. We've done and are doing everything possible for her. Every recourse has been taken. You know this is true, because you've been by her side the whole time,” Talia answered. “Dr. Patel will be up shortly. Sooner, if you leave now and let us take care of Layla.”
With a slap, Zoe upended a tray of tools, which clattered to the floor. She glared her anger at them, burning Talia the longest.
Nobody moved, though Layla almost opened her mouth to tell the doctor to put a Band-Aid on her leg and take care of Abigail. The pain emanating from Zoe was palpable.
“This won't take but a few minutes,” Dr. Patel assured her.
Zoe stuck up her chin and stalked out, her hands fisted at her sides.
The door hadn't slid shut when Talia rounded on the doctor. “How bad is Layla?”
Dr. Patel cleared his voice. “She's got an ugly scrape, that's all. I'll keep an eye on her, just in case. Adam seemed inordinately concerned when he called about it as well.”
Probably because she was supposed to die any minute now.
Layla felt the moment Talia finally settled her gaze on her, and she was immediately filled with a pressing, bright warmth. It was a mixed-up feeling, so sharp and sweet as to be near pain.
And Khan? Where was he?
“I promised my father that we'd keep you alive,” Talia said. “Don't make a liar out of me.”
“I'm not dying,” Layla said.
“Ever,” Patel added, deadpan.
“Well, that's good news,” Talia said, grinning.
Layla forced her gaze back on the table. She concentrated on the microstriations in the metal to get her mind off the pressure in her heart. Reincarnation. A family. After all these years.
And somehow too late.
“But I still plan to keep you inside and out of harm's way for the rest of the day,” Talia said.
So Talia knew, too. Damn Khan. It seemed he'd filled everyone in, but her.
“You could meet the kids—” Talia's voice broke. “If you want, I mean.”
Talia Thorne's children. Her little boys. The shadow hanging over Segue.

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