Chapter 12 #2
My head spun, throwing sparks of light across my vision, a roar in my ears.
Sluggish and stumbling, I got to Hunter.
The smell of ozone and blood filled the air.
Emergency lighting kicked on with a hum.
Eskridge was gone, along with Anu. His henchman staggered down the hall, yelling after him.
Cobb groaned and sat up. Hunter lay face up on the floor.
“HB? Bruce!” I ran my hands over his head, his torso, looking for wounds. I found nothing. Swallowing back a sob, I put my fingers to Hunter’s neck. My heart beat so loudly in my head it took me a minute, but it was there. A pulse. Faint but there.
“He okay?” Cobb grunted softly as he got to his feet.
“He’s alive,” I said.
“I’m going after them.” Cobb stumbled into the hall, his phone light casting shadows on the gaping opening.
I pulled my phone out and switched on the flashlight. “Hunter, please wake up. I need you. I’m sorry for being such a git. Please, please wake up.”
Hunter’s chest rose sharply at an intake of breath. His eyelids fluttered as my hand stroked his cheek. He sighed.
“Say please one more time, would you?”
I huffed out a relieved noise. “You’re okay.”
Hunter’s eyes opened to stare at me and then the room. “Yeah. No. It’s… Where am I?”
“You took a knock on the head. Please take it easy.”
He held out a hand, and I helped him sit up. He clutched his head and moaned.
“Can you stand?” I snaked an arm around his waist, his arm over my shoulder. Together, we rose and shuffled through the fractured wall and down the hall. Cobb was at the top of the stairs, his flashlight scanning the bottom floor. My light showed a trickle of blood down the big man’s temple.
“I told you to wait for me,” he said to Hunter. “I ran into an asshole in the alley—their driver. He clocked me over the head.” Cobb scowled even deeper as he turned away talking into his phone.
I spoke to his back. “We need to get Hunter to a hospital.”
Hunter mumbled. “No hospital.” He leaned more heavily on my arm. “I’m fine.”
Cobb ended his call to dispatch. “I’ll call Ziggy to come look at him.
I called in a BOLO for a dark Mercedes with two armed men and possible elder abduction.
” He moved to Hunter’s other side, propping him up easily.
Dialing his phone one-handed, he asked Ziggy to meet us at my flat. “Where’s the ghost?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know. He disappeared when everything went to shit.” I shined my flashlight around. “Nigel?” I called. “Nigel. Are you here?”
“He ain’t here.” Kenny, the maintenance guy, emerged in a pair of greasy coveralls, carrying a big industrial flashlight. “I was in the boiler room. Power went out. I’m gonna check the breakers.” He left again.
Cobb looked at me. “He a ghost too?”
“No, he’s real, I mean, not undead.”
“This whole place is hinky.”
“Let’s get Hunter to my apartment and regroup. Thanks for coming, Detective.” We hustled Hunter out to Cobb’s SUV. I couldn’t help but feel a sense of failure. We’d survived, but Nigel was lost, and Julian Eskridge got what he wanted. The necromancer.
Ziggy arrived at the apartment not long after we got there. She looked around, gave Cobb a brief hug, and went to check Hunter out.
I offered Cobb a seat and broke out the whiskey, handing him a glass. He mumbled a thanks and said, “The gun not firing, was that something the old man did?”
I looked over at Hunter, remembering his concentration over the sigils. “Warding. Not as sophisticated as the warehouse gym or Pinkie’s but enough to keep firearms out of play. Hunter’s idea.”
Ziggy shined a penlight into Hunter’s eyes, her voice low as she asked him questions. I took my whiskey into the kitchen and put the kettle on for tea. It was a habit by now, and I thought Hunter could use something warm and comforting. I didn’t think alcohol helped with head injuries.
“They busted in the side door. It was wide open when I got there.” Cobb sighed. I ran a clean cloth under the faucet and gave it to him for his head wound.
“It’s lucky you weren’t shot,” Ziggy scolded.
My whiskey downed, I sat on the coffee table, facing Hunter. “Hey mate, would you drink some tea?”
He glanced at me and then managed a tiny shake of his head.
Ziggy pulled me aside. “Physically, he seems fine, but I’d like to take him to get an MRI. His lack of verbal response is worrying.”
“No. He’s fine,” I insisted. “He made a joke when he came to. Same old Hunter. It’s shock?”
“Could be. Or it could be a concussion. Get him talking. If there’s anything weird or unusual, if he doesn’t make sense, mixes up words, anything. You call me, then 911. What about you?” She looked me over. “Were you hurt?”
I lifted my shirt where the bastard hit me. “Just a bruise. I’ve had broken ribs before, and this is not that.”
“Great. Look at the boy’s abs, Jane. That’s fine,” Cobb mumbled from his chair. “I’ll be over here bleeding from the head.”
Ziggy’s mouth twitched at his words, but she gently touched my rib cage, her fingertips moving around my side.
“By all means, touch him too. That’s really helping.” Cobb poured another finger of whiskey.
“Anywhere else?” Ziggy offered Cobb only a fleeting glance before focusing back on me.
“Your legs okay?” Her tone slid from professional to teasing just to twist the knife a bit.
A derisive snort came from Cobb’s side of the room.
I bit back a smile but was relieved when she turned to her man.
“Okay, baby. Let’s see your little scratch. ”
Big fierce Cobb did his best pout. It didn’t quite work with his normal scowl. “A man shot at me.”
“Don’t be all dramatic, Damien.” She moved closer to him, took his drink, and sipped it. “The gash has already stopped bleeding. I’ll clean it when we get home. Where I can make a full examination.”
Cobb beamed. “That’s better.” He stood up. “Kid, we’ll leave you. If the cops pick up the guys, I’ll call you.”
“We know where he lives,” I said. “The big one was the guy at the diner. Julian.”
“Makes sense. Castenada would send people to do his dirty work. Give me his address. I’ll get Abraham on it. We don’t want the old man hurt, so we can’t storm the place, but we can watch, make sure he doesn’t go anywhere else.”
“Thanks, guys.” I glanced at Hunter. He sat placidly on the futon, staring at nothing.
“Regge, you’ll call if anything else happens?” Ziggy patted my shoulder.
After they left, I took off Hunter’s boots and brought him a blanket. I babbled as I worked, just to have sound in the room. “You’re going to be okay? I can get some sweats for you if that’s better?” Another glance at me, a twitch of a finger. “Okay then, I’ll be right back.” I went into the loo.
I used the toilet and washed up. Then I changed into sweats and a clean shirt to return to the living room.
Setting a cup of tea in front of Hunter, I dragged out my laptop. “We could watch a movie?” I queued up whatever was on my playlist, and we settled on the couch.
I woke with a start, not remembering the end of the movie.
Beside me, Hunter slept on. Adjusting the blanket over him, I went to the kitchen, thinking I could make some instant porridge or something warm.
I’d left the window cracked so Archie could do his nighttime roaming, and only a sliver of light shone through the curtain.
Oatmeal in a mug, I turned toward the living room. The futon was vacant, a crumpled blanket on the floor. I hadn’t heard a sound. The bathroom door was open but no Hunter. Scared now, I looked toward the half-open window. Archie flew up and ducked under the pane to hop into the room.
“Archie, where’s Hunter?”
“Gone,” Archie cawed. “Gone.”
I ran for the stairs.
Hunter was on the second floor, hands along the wall like he was walking a tightrope.
“Hunter. Mate.” I touched his shoulder. Like guiding a sleepwalker, I coaxed the man back up the stairs and onto the futon. I clicked the dead bolt and fetched the oatmeal off the counter.
“Are we mates?” His question was flat. As though he was unused to the sound of his voice. “You called me mate.”
“Yes. We are. Best mates, I would hope.”
Hunter’s head cocked to the side as he looked at me. “He wants you as a lover. How strange. The desire is there, but something stops him.”
A cold chill went through me. I studied the man—his purple streak, his soft brown eyes—all Hunter, but the way he held himself was all wrong.
“No, no, no.” I leaned forward, taking his hands. Flashbacks of holding Charlie flitted across my brain. Not again. I couldn’t lose him. “Bruce, are you… you?” I reached out to his face.
He recoiled. “This feels odd.” His voice took on a flat, almost otherworldly intonation.
I leaned back, panic rising in my throat. “Okay. No touching. But talk to me. Bloody hell, don’t tell me you’re dead and reanimated as a zombie or something.”
It sounded ridiculous, and the old Hunter would have laughed. This one simply furrowed his brow. “The young man you seek is alive, his spirit is quite strong, but I am old and know my way around a body.”
“Nigel?”
“Who is Nigel?”
Okay. Disorientation. Memory loss. Confusion. All things Ziggy had said to watch for. But then another thought invaded.
“Anu?”
A corner of Hunter’s mouth ticked up. “Indeed.” He looked down at himself as if inspecting his body. “This was not my intent. Something went wrong.”
“We were interrupted by Eskridge and his men. The vase was broken and… where is Nigel?”
“Again. Who is Nigel?”
“The ghost. The night clerk.”
“Ah yes, my acolyte. His given name is Arthur. Arthur Renfield.”
“You knew his name all this time? Why didn’t you tell him?”
“Arthur was never the sharpest when he was alive, and dead? Well, I can tell you I’ve told him his name countless times.”
“Nigel is not stupid. He translates for you. I’ve heard him speak Spanish too.”
I thrust myself away from him, frustrated. It was definitely creepy seeing his sweet face and having some arsehole talk through him.
“Gifts I bestowed so that he may be of use. Of service. Unfortunately, the human brain is a fragile thing.”
“And I want Hunter’s brain back in his head right now, do you hear me?” I clenched my fists.
There was silence for several agonizing seconds. “Your friend is here with me. His essence is… asleep?” His dark eyes sought mine and I shivered. “I am as troubled as you. The transference of our own essence into another is forbidden. Leaving this vessel without guidance will endanger us both.”
“So what do you need? To get this guidance.” I paced the small area in front of the couch. “First thing, we need to get your body back.”
“As well as the tablet. Talking in your language is so… tedious. I will take my sleep now.” Anu slid into sleep, taking Hunter with him.
I picked up my phone. “Ziggy? You said to call if there was a problem.”
After hearing assurances that they were on their way back to the apartment, I hung up and sat on the edge of the futon. Beside me, Hunter looked completely normal—peaceful even.
I remembered the terror I’d felt holding Charlie as he bled out on the street. Feeling that same terror now, I blinked back tears. I wouldn’t let that happen. Not again.
Searching through my contacts, I made another call. A wave of both relief and apprehension came over me as Abraham’s deep voice answered. I knew he would help—if he didn’t kill me first for endangering his best bartender.