“Grab a fork or something and let’s get out!” I whisper. The tableware is a trophy, proof of his ordeal.
“Ookay.” He reaches toward the pile in the sink.
The whirring sound makes us both jump, looking wildly for its source. It takes a second to realize the cat clock is swinging its tail and flicking its eyes- without apparent need of electricity. The air is suddenly, impossibly cold, shocking after the humid summer heat. Eric bolts and I start to follow, only to catch a glimpse of a figure on the stairway ahead. It's Marcus, my brother, turning and climbing the stairs almost in the same moment that I catch sight of him. I follow him, aware that Eric is thundering down the hall on my left, but unwilling to lose this chance at seeing Marcus. As I start to climb the stairs, numbed by the sight of my older brother who looks the same as my current age of twelve, he glances at me and rounds the stair landing half way up. I hurry to catch him, my brain not yet realizing he can't be here. I climb as fast as I can, rounding the landing and gaining sight of the upstairs. Marcus is gone. The tiny hallway has a bedroom to either side and I turn to look into the left first. A rustle of cloth brings me around in a whirl and I freeze. My mother is looking at me sadly, her pretty face and neck, marred with bright red ax wounds. I am suddenly terrified and certain this is not my mother. My natural cowardice takes hold and I turn to run. The thing masquerading as my mother makes a mistake. “Christian, why didn't you help us?” it implores in my mother's voice. My terror turns to rage and I change my retreat to a charge, running full out without thinking about my action. My mother's face changes to something else, something that my mind can't quite grasp. Then I'm right in the middle of it, flailing my arms in angry boy fight, violet light flaring up around me and the thing spins up into a greasy blot of blackness that sticks to my left hand like coal miner's snot. My hand flicks on its own in disgust, and the black blob flys upward. Something huge, smoky and birdlike snatches it and then both are gone.
Gramps finds me on the front porch, responding to a garbled message of hysteria translated by Eric's mother. He looks me over and then sits next to me. We say nothing for a while, then the words flow and not long after, so do the tears. He takes me home, my bike in the back of his big red pickup.
The first thing I like to do when I go inside is say the thing’s name. I speak in a clear loud voice and I mock it. Like a cat unable to stop from chasing a string, Azamogathth comes to its name. Like a coward it comes from behind me and like I guessed that it would, it comes with Tatiana’s face. Or at least a pretty good imitation of it. But my Sight always shows me the reality and my left hand caught it like a Yankee fielder catches a pop fly. It struggled and cursed me, but I’m pretty smooth at this part of the job. I think this must be my one hundred and seventh cleansing, each just like the rest. I toss it up and think >Kirby< and my giant smoky, hawk-winged friend snatches the nasty thing from the air and pops back to where ever it is that he goes. The house stinks of sulfur and brimstone as I trot down the front steps and hand Malachi to Libi. “You’re gonna want to air it out. Smells like Hell’s Outhouse. But it’s gone and Malachi will keep anything else from bothering you.”
Carlton leads the family and the others in to check my claim, Peter giving me a high five as he heads in. Gina just looks at me, her face unreadable, before I turn away and head into the dark.
Chapter 5
The predicted cold front had moved in and the dark autumn sky swirled with bulbous gray clouds, the wind rushing alongside me, brushing the painted leaves of the small maples that lined the street. The air temperature had dropped a good ten degrees and I was glad for my fleece lined jacket and the thick cottony feel of my NYPD hoodie, as I hustled down the sidewalk. It was blustery and Halloween spooky, and I enjoyed it immensely. Fall is my favorite season, as I welcome the change from the wet tropical heat of August to the cool of September and October. I love warm clothes and heavy jackets, although I am usually happy to put them away come spring. And I'll admit that I like feeling the mystic veil between this life and the next thin appreciably as Halloween draws near.
The sensation of being watched was still with me, in fact stronger than before, almost palpable. Something or someone was pacing me, and I had the oddest feeling that I who it might be. An extra gust of air brushed my right cheek, smelling of jasmine and lilac, and I turned to find Tatiana walking next to me. She glanced at me once, her blue eyes glinting in the low streetlight, before she turned to look ahead. A second rush of air on my left announced Lydia's arrival, smelling of rose and musk, her Cheshire cat grin bright in the dark. “Hello ladies.” I greeted them, trying to project calm. “Love the outfits.” They were both wearing skintight black leather catsuits that blended with the night but failed to hide their charms. Think Kate Beckinsale in Underworld , times two.
“Hiya Northern, nice night.” came from Lydia, her voice amused.
“Hello Christian.” Tatiana said, her accented voice wrapping around my name like smoke. Nobody calls me Christian, but the way she said it had physical weight, like a warm hand pressing on my chest.
Whatever smartass comment I was gonna make next flew right out of my head.
“Are you well? Your heartbeat sounds ...erratic.” Tanya asked, concern shadowing her voice.
Lydia choked back a laugh as I replied. “I'm fine. It's nothing.” Just you, your voice and that damned catsuit. Any annoyance I still felt from the night before was gone, destroyed by her impossible presence.
“To what do I owe the honor?” I asked, trying to center myself.
“You were at our house today. You were injured when you struggled with the ...thing. I wanted to make sure you were alright.” It was the longest speech I had heard Tanya make, and her Russian accent was much less noticeable than before. But what was she talking about? Injured? I turned to her and found her looking at me, apparently not needing to see where she was walking. Me, I need to keep eyes forward to walk uneven sidewalks at night, so I stopped, both vampires stopping instantly as well. I marveled at the reflexes that produced such an immediate reaction. “Er..what injury?” I asked, puzzled.