The Peregrine Omnibus, Volume Two (74 page)

Max stared at Scratch’s outstretched hand for a long moment before he finally brushed it aside with his own. “Even if I believed you’d keep your word, I wouldn’t take a deal like that. My father died rather than bow down before the criminals who were destroying our town. And I’ve seen good friends who chose to die rather than betray their principals. I’m proud to do the same, if need be.”

Scratch stared at him, a slow smile appearing on his ragged lips. “This whole affair, from the Stickman to Dracula’s alliance with Hitler, has been arranged by me. And you still don’t have a clue as to why, do you?”

The Peregrine shifted his weight from one foot to the other, feeling a cold chill run down his spine. “No,” he admitted.

“I’ve been keeping you
busy
. I’ve been keeping you away from
home
.” Scratch sat back on his heels and pointed at the Peregrine, laughing so hard that his entire body shook. “I made sure that Dracula didn’t just send out the command to raise the dead in Paris, but around your home, as well.”

“You arranged all this… just to strike at my family?”

“You roll the dice, Mr. Davies. If Dracula succeeds, all the chaos and horror it brings is a big win for my side—and if he fails, you’re not at home to stop the murder of your wife and kids. Either way, I win.”

“This isn’t some damned game, you sick son of a bitch!” The Peregrine growled in anger, raising a foot and bringing it crashing down into Scratch’s face. He repeated the action three times more and then stopped when he felt his body begin to fall away from the Void. He was coming back to the real world, his soul sinking once more into the warm flesh-and-blood embrace of his body.

Max opened his eyes, staring up into the morning sky. Jenny was at his side, holding his hand and smiling at him with such honest emotion that Max momentarily forgot the danger to his family and grinned in return. Then he sat up with such haste that Jenny pulled her hands back in alarm. He looked around at Catalyst and Kaslov, both of whom were watching him with concern. “Where’s the Spear of Destiny?”

Catalyst raised a hand, a swirl of fire appearing in his palm. Within the flames an image appeared, showing the Spear inside the Aerie, the well-secured headquarters where the Claws of the Peregrine lived. “I figured it was best if we kept permanent tabs on it. Don’t worry, though. Before we sent it back home, we used it to send the dead back to their graves.”

The Peregrine nodded, standing up and brushing himself off. The place where the Spear had pierced his midsection was tender, and there was a tattered hole in his shirt, but otherwise he was as good as new. He flashed a quick glance at Nathaniel, who seemed pale from the exertion of having healed him. “I don’t imagine you can teleport me back home, could you?”

“No—not even at full power could I do that.” Catalyst saw the way his friend’s jaw clenched. “What’s going on?”

“My family… they’re in danger.”

Jenny touched Max’s arm. “If he can’t help, I can. I can get anyplace, anytime, if I try hard enough. Especially if it’s a place I’ve been to before. I just have to picture your wife in my head and we’ll go straight to her. That’s how we got the Spear back to the Aerie. I took it.”

The Peregrine turned towards her gratefully, and he caught sight of a man standing twenty feet away, a camera held in his hand. The man took a quick picture of the famed American vigilante and Jenny standing arm in arm and then bolted off, eager to try and sell his picture to the press.

Max shook his head and focused his attention back on Jenny. “Thank you.”

Jenny grinned. “No problem, Max.” She glanced around at Kaslov and Nathaniel. “I have trouble taking more than one person with me. It gets to be a strain.”

“We need to collect our injured friends,” Kaslov reminded her. “You two go ahead, and we’ll take the Claws plane back to the States.”

The Peregrine was touched by the fact that none of them were questioning how he knew his family was in danger; they simply accepted his words at face value, having long ago learned to trust him.

Jenny’s grip tightened on his arms, and Max felt a momentary sense of nausea wash over him. Then he and his time-displaced companion were no longer in Paris…

* * *

Jenny and Max appeared out of thin air, standing in the middle of the Davies’ living room. Evelyn lay on the floor in a ripped blouse and slacks, her beautiful auburn hair streaked with blood. Max knelt to check on her, noticing that a wicked gash was running along the side of her head. He felt for a pulse and sighed audibly when he found it, beating strong.

“She’s going to be okay. Can you check on the children, please? Upstairs.”

Jenny nodded and bolted for the stairs, taking them two at a time. Max watched her go and then gently placed his wife’s head on the floor. He rose slowly, drawing one of his pistols and checking to make he was fully loaded. “You can come out of the shadows,” he murmured.

The Stickman moved into view, his bark-covered face parted in a grin. “Welcome home,” the inhuman monster said.

“I thought you were dead.”

“Oh, yes, you left me in quite the predicament. I thought I’d won. I’d gotten my heart’s dream… and then I crumbled to a pile of sticks and splinters.” Stickman waved a bone-thin arm through the air. “But I’m hard to kill.”

“Did Dracula revive you with the Spear?”

“Oh no! He revived
her
.”

The Peregrine followed Klee’s gaze and saw Nettie, still wearing her funeral dress, lying facedown behind the couch. He took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. He couldn’t fathom why his existence was this tortured—even in death, his friends were tormented because of their association with him.

Stickman took a step closer, his voice dripping with amusement. “She burst into the house and put quite the fright into the household. Nearly killed your wife and sent the kids screaming to the closet upstairs. Your pet Negro Josh went with them. I have to admit, he was a very brave man. Can’t be easy seeing the woman who raised you come back from the grave, wanting to snack on your brains.” Stickman shrugged his shoulders. “I only wish Belladonna and her brother had been here. They left about twenty minutes before all the fun began. They went away with your friend—what did they call him? Mr. Benson? Said he had a place for them in the Shadow Sanction, whatever that is. I’ve been watching this house all day, Max. Your wife is
so
lovely. I couldn’t help but tear open that blouse and take a little peek…”

The Peregrine raised his gun and pointed it at Stickman’s face. “Just because you came back from the dead once doesn’t mean you’ll do it every time. I’m a clever man. I can find ways to put you down for good.”

“Possibly… but it wouldn’t really matter. I’ve already succeeded in what I came here to do.”

Max narrowed his eyes. “And what was that?”

“I killed your children.”

The Peregrine was only dimly aware of Jenny screaming upstairs, and of Stickman laughing at the sound. He pulled the trigger of his gun, blowing apart Klee’s head. The shards of wood flew backwards, and the villain’s body toppled over. In that moment, the psychic powers that the Peregrine had once possessed came back to the fore, overwhelming the spell that had been placed over them. They exploded outwards in a burst of such overwhelming mental force that the Stickman was obliterated, his entire body disintegrating.

With the blood pounding in his ears, the Peregrine turned to see Jenny coming back down the stairs, looking stunned. There was blood on her hands, falling in crimson droplets to the carpet.

Max saw little William and baby Emma in his mind’s eye, their happy smiles now wiped clean forever. There had been a time in his life when he hadn’t been sure of what kind of father he could be. He’d always felt awkward around children… but when he’d first held William, he’d felt a sense of connection that was almost overwhelming. That baby had
needed
him so badly, and he’d relished the role of protector and teacher that had ensued.

And now they had been ripped from him.

Jenny looked up at him, her chest rising and falling. The Peregrine knew she was saying something, but he couldn’t focus on it. He was wracked with guilt, knowing that it was his actions that had brought this upon his family. Nyarlathotep had warned him years ago that he’d outlive everyone he loved, but he hadn’t expected to lose his children so soon…

Max was so distraught that he didn’t even notice when Jenny vanished, nor when she reappeared, holding the Spear of Destiny in her hands. It was only when she had stepped in front of him, offering him the holy lance, that he could focus on his surroundings.

“Max, take it.”

“They’re dead?”

Jenny avoided looking at him, but she did nod. “Yes… and your friend, too. But they don’t have to stay that way.”

Max looked down at the Spear and realized what she was implying. The Spear could revive the dead, and though it could be used as Dracula had done, to bind the will of the revived to someone in life, it could also be used simply to resurrect with no strings attached. The resurrected could be a ravenous beast or a whole person given a near lease on life—such was the power and majesty of the Spear.

The Peregrine took it from her and marveled at how light the weapon felt in his hand. It was so perfectly forged that Max found himself staring at its smooth lines and delicate design. But even more impressive than the craftsmanship was the sense of power that came from the lance; an almost palpable sense of invulnerability took hold of Max, and he could easily see how someone who held it could accomplish great things without even tapping into its power. It made you feel like you were God’s right hand on Earth.

Max caught sight of Evelyn beginning to stir, and he knew he had to act quickly. With the Spear in hand, his mental powers were so much more precise: he could see what had happened here, he could hear the screams and feel the terror. Nettie had knocked out Evelyn, before the kids had been attacked. She didn’t know what happened to them—and if Max had his way, she never would.

The Peregrine visualized his children and called upon the power of the Spear. He felt an immediate connection to something far greater and more powerful than anything he’d ever felt before. This was Creation itself, and it was a neutral force, but some people could tap into it, either on their own or with the aid of things like the Spear. Good or evil was literally in the eyes of the beholder.

Upstairs, the prone forms of Emma and William began to stir. He wiped their minds clean of the events surrounding their deaths and helped them taste new life. Their eyes fluttered open, and the first thing they saw was the unconscious form of Josh, lying nearby.

Max realized that there was no reason to stop here—he could accomplish so much with the Spear at his side. Nettie could be reborn, Vincent could be revived, his father and mother could return to life… He could resurrect good men and women who had perished along the way… he could reach out and return to life the mad geniuses who could have helped the world in so many ways, had their hearts not been so full of corruption.

The Peregrine could save the world from itself… and all it would need was a firm guiding hand.

His hand.

Max shook his head, trying to ignore the sounds of angels singing in his ears. The temptation was so strong, to become the judge and jury for the world. With the Spear, he could protect his family from all harm and bring about a utopia. He could feel that the Spear wanted him, desired him to use it. It trusted him to do the right things.

With a tremendous show of strength, the Peregrine let go of the Spear and it fell to the floor, landing with a soft clatter.

“Max? What’s going on?” Evelyn was on her feet, a bit unsteady. She was holding the side of her head where the blood was still flowing. “Are the kids okay?”

Max took her hand and tried to ignore the hungry desire for the Spear that still raged within him. He forced it down, knowing it would fade in time… and that he’d made the right decision. Though the Spear itself was not evil, Max had learned time and again that absolute power corrupted absolutely. The holy lance had saved his children, and that was enough.

“They’re fine,” he said, giving her hand a squeeze. “Everything’s fine.”

Epilogue

Max Davies walked through the grounds of his property, Jenny Everywhere at his side. Behind them, the kids were playing with their mother, their laughter carrying far on this sunny afternoon. Jenny was sipping some iced tea and looking like she was thrilled to be alive.

“I heard from Bella and her brother. They’re happy to be involved with the Shadow Sanction.” Max rolled up the sleeves on his crisp white shirt as he spoke.

Jenny suddenly stopped, kneeling down to intently study a caterpillar. “I liked Bella. She has a good head on her shoulders.” She set down her glass and extended a finger, allowing the caterpillar to crawl onto her hand. “So go ahead and ask me what you want to know.”

Max blinked in surprise, but then laughed. He’d asked Jenny to take a walk with him, so it wasn’t a huge leap for her to assume he wanted to ask her something. He did, in fact, though he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer. “About ten years ago, I fought and killed an avatar of Nyarlathotep. He cursed me during that fight, gave me a few visions about the future. Most of them have faded over time, but the overall sense of it has remained: I’m going to outlive everyone I love. Is that true?”

Jenny continued staring at the caterpillar, moving her hand so that it wouldn’t fall off. “Max, nothing’s set in stone. You have a future that’s probably set, but not irrevocably set. There’s a whole host of timelines and universes out there where anything can happen. Don’t worry about the future—it’ll get here before you know it, and then you can worry about who dies first. In other words, plan for the future, but don’t obsess over it.”

Max was about to say something else when he heard footsteps. He turned to see Sally coming towards him. She was in her Revenant uniform, though her mask and hood were off, allowing her hair to fall freely down her back.

“Sure you won’t come with us?” Sally asked, her eyes resting squarely on Max. There was a hint of hurt to her expression, and Max knew she blamed him for not resurrecting Vincent when he’d had the chance. He’d tried to explain about the temptations of the Spear and how he’d wanted to divest himself of it as soon as possible after saving Emma and William, but his excuses had sounded hollow even to himself.