I felt, more than saw, Kane’s ears prick up. A growl rumbled from his throat.
Something felt wrong. What was Norden doing here by himself? He mopped his face, his handkerchief wiping the scars. Scars he’d gotten at the Paranormal Appreciation Day Concert, in the middle of a Morfran attack.
I heard a distant cawing, like a flock of crows perched somewhere in the Common.
Oh, no.
I reached for my gun.
Kane growled again, and sprang. So fast his movement was a blur, Norden pulled out his gun and shot him. Kane backflipped and, with a piercing yelp of pain, landed on the far side of the wall.
Norden knocked my gun from my hand and jammed his own under my chin. “Hands up, where I can see them both.”
I raised my hands, straining to hear anything from Kane.
“Let’s go see the werewolf,” Norden said. He dragged me over to the wall. Behind it, Kane lay on his side, bleeding from his shoulder. His ribs moved rapidly as he panted. Norden let go of me, but the barrel of his gun still pressed into the flesh under my jaw. He pulled a second gun, aiming it directly at Kane’s head.
“Don’t move,” he said. “You so much as twitch, and I blast a silver bullet through this werewolf’s skull. Understand?”
“Yes,” I whispered.
“You tried to make it look like a dog,” he muttered. “But I know it’s a wolf. They said there’d be a werewolf.”
“Who did?”
“They. Them. The voices, the birds. You know.” He voice rose in pitch, and he pressed the gun into me so hard I had to rise up on my toes. “Or they know you. They told me you’d be the fifth.”
“What birds, Norden?”
“Black birds. Big ones. They live in my head and caw at me. They scratch the inside of my skull. They . . . they tear at my nerves with their beaks.” He shuddered. “When I’m around zombies, the birds scream with hunger. They make me . . . they make me want to eat dead flesh.” I could smell the fear and desperation in his sweat. “And kill. I never killed before, not even on the job. But the birds . . .”
He shook himself, and I squeezed my eyes shut, expecting a bullet. But he stepped back. He removed the gun from my jaw but kept it pointed at me. He kept the other gun pointed directly at Kane. His voice lowered to its normal range. “You’ve got one gun left, four knives, and that big-ass sword. Put your right hand on top of your head, and use two fingers, left hand, to pull out the other gun. Then throw it behind me.”
I complied, moving very slowly. I opened to the demon plane. Norden was all beak and wings. Crows dove at his head; others perched on his shoulders, his arms. Beneath it all, Norden’s spirit struggled—shaking, flinching, trying to pull free. His aura radiated pure agony. “Norden,” I said gently. “This isn’t you. You’re a cop, one of the good guys, remember?” Blue—hope—flared in Norden’s aura. It was pale, but there. I kept talking. “Those birds. They’re not part of you. They’re the Morfran. Remember the night of the concert? Remember the crows that attacked Tina?”
The crows plaguing Norden stepped up their attack. Their shrieking tore at my ears. The thin plume of blue faded from Norden’s aura. I pulled back to the human plane. Norden was bathed with sweat, his eye twitching, but he held both guns steady. “Now the knife strapped to your right leg,” he said.
“You tried to help Tina. You held the kid when she was hurt. Remember? I made the crows go away then.”
“I . . . I don’t remember none of that. Other knife.”
I had to make him remember, give him hope that the Morfran could be defeated. “That night, at the concert, the Morfran got inside you somehow. You were cut up pretty badly. Okay, maybe you don’t remember that, but you’ve got the scars to prove it. Some of the Morfran entered your wounds, got inside you.”
“Right boot, then the left.” In the demon plane, crows pecked at Norden’s aura, gouging out big chunks. Other crows opened their beaks and poured blackness into the spaces.
“It’s not you, Norden. We can get the birds out. My aunt—”
“Shut up! Now the sword. Don’t touch the weapon. Just unbuckle the sheath and let it fall.”
I fumbled with the buckles one-handed.
“Faster!” His voice was frantic, high-pitched. “The damn birds are pecking inside my head!”
“Fight them! You can do it. I can help—”
“No, you can’t!” he screamed. His aura was completely black. “Nothing makes it stop. Nothing but killing. And I’ll kill this goddamn werewolf right now if you don’t shut up and do what I say!”
The last buckle let go. The Sword of Saint Michael clattered to the ground.
The Morfran shrieked in triumph. In the demon plane, I could see nothing at all of Norden—just a flock of crows swarming the place where he stood. I closed to that plane. Norden was right. I couldn’t help him.
“Both hands on your head now. Kick the sword away.” I did, not as far as I might have. But the distance was too great to dive for the sword and charge Norden. Kane would be dead before I was halfway there.
“Face that way.” He gestured with his chin, indicating he wanted me to turn my back to him. “And drop to your knees.” The gun he pointed at Kane didn’t waver as he holstered the other gun and pulled out a knife with a long, curved blade.
I didn’t move. I stood and stared Norden in the eye. I would not die on my knees.
“Look, Vaughn, it’s nothing personal, okay? I have to.”
“You don’t.”
“Yes, I do!” he screamed. His breathing was labored again. “It’s . . . nothing . . . personal. Yeah, I’ve called you a freak . . . but I always thought you’d make . . . an okay partner, ever since . . .”
“Ever since what, Norden? Ever since the concert? You do remember. Those crows. I got them away from Tina. Remember?”
“They tore up that kid.” He cocked his head. “That’s what’s inside me?”
“Let me help—”
“No, they’re tearing me up. I have to. I have to!”
The curved blade flashed as it fell from his hand. Norden brought up the gun, jammed it under his own chin, and pulled the trigger.
31
BEFORE NORDEN’S BODY HIT THE GROUND, THE GLASS doors of the T station shattered. Myrddin came out, carrying the jar he’d had at the last murder site. Two vampires stood behind him.
“Kill her,” Myrddin said.
I lunged for my sword, but I’m no match for a vampire in overdrive. One of the vampires slammed into me, knocking me off my feet. I twisted out of his grasp, rolled, and came up with the silver chain in my hand.
It was the only weapon Norden had left me.
I lashed out with the chain like a whip, striking the vampire’s face before he knew what hit him. A ghastly scream rang out as he staggered back, clawing at his cheek. The other vampire stopped and stared. I lashed out again. The chain nicked a chunk of flesh from his neck, and he knew what his friend was screaming about.
I stood with my back against the subway building, whipping the chain to hold the vampires back. They dodged it, and fear of the silver prevented them from trying to snatch it away from me. But I couldn’t rest for a second, or else one of them would dash in and snap my neck. And I couldn’t get any closer to Myrddin.
In my peripheral vision, I could see the wizard pick up the curved blade and bend over Norden’s corpse. He slashed at Norden’s chest and then opened the jar. Loud cawing erupted as the Morfran left Norden’s body. Immediately the sound grew muffled; Myrddin was capturing the Morfran, along with whatever remained of Norden’s life force.