To Walk the Night (9 page)
10
I wasn’t sure what I expected when I entered the room. Some part of me thought the room would be in shambles, even after seeing how clean it had been in the front room. That was how I had always viewed the Luna Cult. They were a bunch of thugs running the streets who spent more time inflicting pain and terror than doing things like bathing or changing clothes.
But instead, I was met yet again with a rather pleasant room, furnished as if it were well used and well loved. This was definitely not how I pictured the Luna Cult Den.
Old plaques hung on the walls around the room. I wasn’t sure if the plaques were remnants from when the place was a library or if they were important to someone in the Cult. I didn’t get close enough to look.
A desk with a leather office chair behind it sat by a large window overlooking the green. The far end of the lake could just be seen over the trees. A couch sat along the wall to my right and two matching recliners to my left, all facing the desk. The place was tidy, clean, and had an air of practicality I wouldn’t have expected from the Luna Cult. It was stunning how different they were at home than when spotted in tattered clothes on the streets.
Two men rose from the couch as I entered. One was short and scruffy and welcomed me with a wide smile. He looked as though he hadn’t combed his hair in a good three months, if not longer. His cheeks were covered in a patchy sort of stubble that ran all the way up his cheekbones to just under his eyes. His eyebrows were bushy, hanging above his eyes like giant caterpillars. He folded his hands behind his back, ruffling his already wrinkled suit. He gave off an air of friendliness that was hard to ignore.
The other man wasn’t nearly as friendly looking. His hair was soft brown, mingled with flecks of gray. It was clipped short in a buzz cut that exposed a flaking scalp. His jaw was square, just like everything else about him. His shoulders fell perfectly in line with the floor, his posture perfectly straight. His shoes were polished, his coat buttoned at the navel, which just served to add to his rigid manner.
Neither man had a crescent moon tattoo.
Buzz Cut frowned at me as I walked in. His eyes flickered to my guide before settling on me. Disapproval was clear in his gaze, but he kept his mouth shut. That was a plus. It was clear he wanted to say something, and if he did, I might just have to punch him in the mouth. I knew whatever this man said wouldn’t be pleasant.
“Lady Death,” my shrouded guide said, closing the door. He moved to stand beside the desk, keeping his back to me. He gently tapped his fingers on the polished wood. “Also known as Kat Redding. Is it short for something?”
I wanted to keep my eye on Buzz Cut because, quite frankly, I didn’t trust him, but the mention of my given name startled me. Only Ethan knew my real name. Ethan and the dead.
The mysterious man shifted and I noticed for the first time how his hood seemed to slope funny to one side. It wasn’t anything I could put my finger on, but the whole thing seemed off, as if my eyes just weren’t seeing him right.
“Don’t call me that,” I said.
“What? Lady Death? Mrs. Redding?”
“Either.”
“Then what should I call you?”
I brushed a stray lock of hair out of my eyes. The movement caused my coat to fall open just enough to expose the hilt of my sword. Buzz Cut’s eyes widened, but he didn’t make a move toward me or say anything.
“Kat, if you like,” I said. I hated him knowing so much about me, but if he had to call me something, my first name would be less damning if others were to hear. “But I would prefer if you forget all those names. I don’t exactly like having who I am spread about. In fact, I would like to know how you know me, how you knew where to find me.”
“In time, Kat, in time.” The cloaked man shook his oddly shaped head. “Is your first name short for something?”
“Why does it matter?”
“It doesn’t.” He sighed and moved around his desk, then took a seat. The leather chair creaked as he settled his weight. “I just want to know.”
“It’s not.”
He turned his face up to me ever so slightly. I still couldn’t see a damn thing in the hood, and it was starting to piss me off. By now, I should have caught a glimpse of something in there. I mean, even a sliver of light finds its way into the darkest corners now and again, but this guy’s face seemed to be made of darkness.
Now that was an unsettling thought.
“Not what?” he asked. I heard the smile in his voice.
“Not short for anything.”
“So Kat is your given name? Interesting. I would have thought it might have been short for Katherine or Kathy, maybe even Katelyn.”
“Why the fuck does this matter?”
There was a stretch of silence. Buzz Cut was still staring at me, refusing to show even a hint of amusement at the inane conversation. The short guy was rocking back and forth as if he couldn’t stand still and would bolt from the room at the word go. His hands beat a staccato on his hips.
I waited the men out. I don’t know if he was trying to soothe me or irritate me. If the plan was to do the latter, then he was doing a damn fine job of it.
“I am Jonathan Alucard, in case you are wondering,” the cloaked man said. “Frankly, I am surprised you haven’t already asked a hundred questions. I know I would have if I had been in your situation.”
I rolled the name through my memory banks. It didn’t ring any bells. “I figured you would get to the point soon enough.”
“Fair enough.” Jonathan bowed his head. “These are my associates.” He motioned to the short, jittery man. “Gregory Hillis.”
“Pleasure,” Gregory said. He bowed and beamed at me as if the brief introduction was the greatest thing to happen to him in his entire life.
“And Nathan LaFoe.”
Buzz Cut grunted and his frown deepened. He didn’t seem to be as excited to make my acquaintance as his companion.
Jonathan leaned back in his chair. I still couldn’t see under the damn hood even though he was looking directly at me. Or at least, I thought he was. As far as I knew, he could have his eyes closed.
“I suppose you are wondering why I asked you here, why I would send someone to deliver my message for me?”
“It crossed my mind.”
“I have a favor to ask of you.” Jonathan leaned forward, crossing his hands in front of him on the desk. Aside from the hood and cloak, he looked like any other businessman ready to talk. It was pretty disconcerting considering this
was
the Den of a wolf-worshipping cult.
was
the Den of a wolf-worshipping cult.
“Many have questioned my decision to come to you, though I did keep it quiet as to who you really are. Only a select few know your true nature.” His gaze flickered to Nathan and then back to me. “But I believe this course of action is best. No,” he corrected. “It’s the only course of action left open to us.”
He paused and spun his chair around so he could look out the window. Nothing moved out there but the faint blinking light of a plane in the distance.
“So what’s with this place?” I asked. “That was a pretty interesting show with the lights back there. You do that for everyone or just for me so I would feel special?”
Jonathan laughed. “You
are
special, no doubt; but no, anyone who comes through those doors gets the same show.”
are
special, no doubt; but no, anyone who comes through those doors gets the same show.”
“How’d you do it?”
“Pardon?”
“How’d you make the lights come on like that? I couldn’t see a thing through the doors.”
“Ah,” he said. “It’s a glamour. We like our privacy here. To let others see the lights would be like a beacon to our location. We really don’t want people knocking on our doors uninvited.”
“A sorcerer,” I said, my voice hitching on the word. “Someone here is a sorcerer.”
Jonathan cocked his head to the side and I was pretty sure he was staring at me. It made me feel all kinds of uncomfortable not knowing what he was thinking. I could usually discern someone’s thoughts by their eyes, but with Jonathan, I had nothing to go on.
“I can do only minor glamours,” he said at last. “It isn’t much, but it helps keep us hidden from unwanted notice. Anyone looking through the front door or one of the windows will only see a dark, abandoned building.” He paused. “It isn’t perfect, but it serves its purpose.” He took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh. “Of course, not many people reach the doors uninvited. We just like to take the extra precautions in case someone gets through our security.”
A sorcerer leading the Luna Cult? Great. As if having to deal with a bunch of werewolf lovers wasn’t bad enough.
Jonathan stood and walked around his desk. He stopped all of five feet away from me and I still couldn’t see his face. “I should probably explain something to you first,” he said. “The more you know going in, the more likely you are to understand why I came to you. There are certain things you should know, things best shown to you rather than told.”
“Sounds like a plan,” I said. Something about Jonathan’s tone had me on edge, but I managed to keep my cool. So far, aside from Pablo’s attitude and Nathan’s angry demeanor, no one had really shown me much in the way of hostility.
Jonathan glanced over to his two associates and nodded ever so slightly. Both Nathan and Gregory sat down, though Nathan did so much slower, as if he wasn’t sure it was the right thing to do. The tension level in the room rose tenfold, and I desperately wanted to know what was going on before I accidently shot someone.
“Would you care to take a seat?” Jonathan asked, motioning toward one of the recliners. It was black leather and looked really comfortable.
“No thanks,” I said. “I’m fine just where I am.”
Jonathan bowed his head in acquiescence before speaking. “I thought you might say that. I take it some of the rumors about you are true. It’s probably why I haven’t seen Joshua since he was sent to deliver my message.” His tone hardened. “I assume he is dead.”
My hand slowly fell to my waist. I didn’t draw, but I wanted to be ready. I didn’t like where the conversation was heading.
Nathan started to rise, but Jonathan waved him back down. The big man hesitated, his frown deepening, before settling back down on the couch.
“He broke in to my house.”
Jonathan leaned back against his desk and sighed. “I should have expected it, really. Joshua is an impulsive man. He was to deliver the note and leave before anyone knew he was there. I should have realized he would want to see you himself.”
I glanced at Nathan before answering. The big man was glowering, but he didn’t seem like he was getting ready to fight. Yet.
“I didn’t want to do it,” I said. “But I don’t like people knowing where I live, which brings me back to my question. How did you know where to find me?”
“It wasn’t easy, honestly. Even though I knew who you were, you had moved to a new location before I could act on my knowledge. It made tracking you down that much more difficult.”
I clenched my fist. How long had this guy known about me? “How?” It was all I could think to say.
“You made a mistake,” Jonathan said. “It happened a long time ago, back before you were as well equipped as you are now. Back before you had made a name for yourself.”
I stared at him, unsure what to make of the statement. What kind of mistake had I made, other than getting myself captured once? I was always careful, even back when I was young and stupid.
Jonathan stood silent for a long moment before speaking again. “
I
was your mistake,” he said. His hands slowly rose to the hood concealing his face and slid it slowly back from his head. There was a shimmer, as if the air around his head was disturbed by some unfelt wave of heat; then his features came into focus.
I
was your mistake,” he said. His hands slowly rose to the hood concealing his face and slid it slowly back from his head. There was a shimmer, as if the air around his head was disturbed by some unfelt wave of heat; then his features came into focus.
One side of his head was normal. His eye was blue, his hair a curly brown. Laugh marks creased the corner of his mouth, and wrinkles, probably caused by natural good humor, webbed outward from his eyes.
The other side of his face, however, was a nightmare.
His right eye was bloodshot. The blue iris was speckled with so much red it was almost blackish purple. His cheek was all scar tissue, and his mouth curved ever downward as if the nerves had been damaged so badly they were useless. There was no hair on that side of his head. In fact, there was no head there at all.
Instead of a rounded skull, the right side of Jonathan’s head was flattened at a downward sloping angle. It looked as though someone had neatly sliced that part of his head off, missing his brain by scant millimeters. Skin that looked to have come from elsewhere on his body was stretched over the horrific wound. It was pink and wrinkled, as if it had been badly burned.
I wanted him to raise his hood, to hide the disaster of his face, but Jonathan let the hood fall back, leaving me no choice but to stare at him.
“Do you remember House Valentino?” he asked. His words were now slightly slurred. The glamour that had disguised his features within the hood must have also adjusted his voice to hide the speech impediment caused by his damaged face.
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