“Hey,” the man called again.
Under the table, I pulled my Bersa semiautomatic out of the back of my pants and transferred it to the pocket of my leather jacket, just in case.
“Hey, you!” the man called.
This time Thornton turned around. “Jesus Christ, what?”
They came forward hesitantly, taking half-steps but keeping their pack positions. Their fear of Thornton was so strong it had turned into a seething hatred. It was like watching a herd of gazelles muster up the courage to attack a lion.
The bartender finally lifted the object from behind the bar. A wooden Louisville Slugger. I let out a small breath of relief. It was better than a shotgun, and it meant as long as these guys didn’t start with the pitchforks-and-torches routine I could leave my gun in my pocket.
I slid out of my seat and showed them my empty hands. “Is there a problem?”
Porkpie Hat jutted his chin at Thornton. “He’s the problem. What does he want? Why is he here?”
Thornton opened his mouth to answer. I knew he was going to say something smart-assed that would only make things worse, so I jumped in fast and said, “We’re not looking for trouble.”
“Then why don’t you just get the hell out,” the bartender said. Then, to emphasize his point, he hit the countertop with his baseball bat a couple of times, like he was shooing away a raccoon.
“We were just leaving,” I said.
“See to it, then,” the splotchy-faced man said.
We left the booth and left the bar, exiting back out onto Eighth Avenue. I hoped Isaac and the others were doing their job keeping the gargoyles distracted, because now that we were outside again we were exposed and vulnerable.
Bethany led the way downtown. I kept an eye on the sky, but so far so good. No gargoyles, at least none that I could see against the dark.
“What the hell was their problem?” Thornton demanded.
“Sorry, but I told you,” Bethany said. “It’s a survival instinct left over from primitive times. People can sense the undead, but only on a purely subconscious level. If you asked any of them back there why they were so on edge, they wouldn’t be able to tell you. They couldn’t help themselves.”
“That’s me, always bringing out the best in people.” He sighed. “So I really am a pariah, then.”
“Not to us,” she said. She took him by the good arm as we crossed Eighth Avenue. It struck me as a rare moment of warmth from her, the first time I’d seen her act like Thornton’s friend instead of his supervisor.
We cut through one of the side streets. We were in the theater district, but it was already late enough that the restaurants and piano bars were closed. The sidewalks were deserted. I didn’t like being this out in the open.
We passed an alley between buildings. Instinct made me turn and look inside. I didn’t see anything but a thick cloud of steam. It roiled and twisted, and then something broke through it. A gargoyle. It crawled sideways along the brick wall like a bug. I froze.
The gargoyle lifted its head to look at me. I recognized it from the warehouse. Yellow Eye. But then it did something I didn’t expect. Without making a sound, Yellow Eye retreated back into the steam and vanished. I didn’t understand. The gargoyle had seen me. There was no way it couldn’t have. So why didn’t it attack?
Bethany stopped walking. She came back to see what I was looking at, but by then it was just an empty alley. “What is it?”
“I thought I saw—” I started to say.
The chilling shriek of a gargoyle sounded somewhere above us. I looked up and saw a winged shape moving along the rooftops.
“Run,” I said, but the gargoyle was already swooping down toward us.
Eleven
The gargoyle soared over the awnings and curbside trees, tracing our route down the sidewalk. We were injured and slow, but even if we’d been able to run quickly the gargoyle could have overtaken us without much effort. As it was, it must have thought we were child’s play. It swooped into Bethany from behind, knocking her to the sidewalk. She tried to get back on her feet, but the gargoyle landed on top of her. It straddled her back and pinned her down.
I skidded to a halt. My hand was on my gun before I remembered bullets were useless against these things. Damn it, weren’t Isaac and the others supposed to be drawing the gargoyles away?
Bethany struggled to get free, but the gargoyle was too heavy. She tried to reach into her vest for a charm, but her arms were pinned the wrong way for that. Perched on her back, the gargoyle drew back one claw, preparing to strike.
“Get off of her!” Thornton yelled. He ran at it, brandishing the broken half of the Anubis Hand. He swung it before the gargoyle could react. The mummified fist connected with the gargoyle’s snout. There was a much smaller flash this time, and no web of fire, but the gargoyle still tumbled off of Bethany, stunned. Thornton helped her up, and together they started running. The gargoyle stumbled side to side on its feet for a moment, its wings twitching, then shook its head clear. It saw Thornton taking its prey away and released an angry shriek.
“Thornton, the staff!” I shouted. He tossed it to me. I caught it and ran at the gargoyle, noticing for the first time that it wasn’t Yellow Eye. Strange, Yellow Eye hadn’t come back after mysteriously retreating into the alleyway. I swung the staff, and the Anubis Hand connected with the gargoyle’s jaw. There was a much brighter flash now. The gargoyle was knocked backward, burning as it rolled across the street, giving off sparks and embers until it finally exploded in a burst of blackened ash. I turned back to the others. “Now that’s how you hit a gargoyle,” I said.
Bethany was pale and out of breath. Her spill on the sidewalk had opened the cut in her knee again, and she was leaning against Thornton for support. “Save the gloating,” she said. “We have to get to the safe house before more of them come. It isn’t far now.”
“Can you walk?” I asked.
Instead of answering, she let go of Thornton, turned around, and started limping quickly up the block toward Ninth Avenue.
“Okay then,” I said, and followed.
We turned downtown on Ninth, moving as quickly as we could. I kept a tight grip on the Anubis Hand, just in case. A nearby shriek, like the hunting call of a bird of prey, froze us in our tracks. A dark, man-sized shape moved across the night sky. It was little more than a shadow against the darkness, but the silhouette of its wings was unmistakable.
“Your boss isn’t doing his job,” I said.
“You’re wrong about that,” Bethany replied. “If he wasn’t, we’d already be dead.”
We turned west onto Forty-Third Street, a quiet, sleepy block. A gargoyle landed on top of one of the buildings along the street. It crouched on its haunches and folded its wings onto its back until it looked every bit the twin of its architectural namesake. From its high perch, it scanned the street below.
Bethany grabbed Thornton and me, and pushed us into a dark doorway across the street. She put her hand on my chest, pushing me as far back against the door as she could. I felt the heat of her skin through my shirt.
“Don’t move,” she whispered. “Stay quiet. Don’t even breathe.”
“Not a problem,” Thornton whispered back.
The gargoyle’s head whipped in our direction, as if it had heard us. I felt its icy gaze narrowing in on us like a rifle sight. It launched itself into the air toward us.
“Run!” Bethany said.
We took off down the street. The gargoyle came after us, chittering and shrieking. I took a swipe at it with the Anubis Hand, but the staff was half the length it used to be. The gargoyle easily maneuvered away from it. Without a weapon, the only thing to do was run, so we ran like mad.