Shadow Prophet (Midnight Chronicles Book 1) Page 10

She turned to me and took a deep breath, exhaling it slowly. “Okay. I think I’m ready. Let’s go hunt.” She glanced back at Alexander, obviously troubled. “The amulet asked me if I wanted to kill you.”

  He stared at her, a blank expression on his face. “That may be necessary someday. But not yet.”

  I’d been wondering about that. I hadn’t realized there were good and bad hounds. Obviously, Alexander was a good one, if he hadn’t already killed her, but Lizzie had to eradicate the earth of all hounds. Alexander had been pretty specific about that when he’d hired me.

  Apparently Lizzie wasn’t aware of this clause because she asked, “What do you mean?”

  Alexander shook his head, not wanting to go there just yet. I could tell from Lizzie’s expression that she didn’t need him to elaborate on his earlier statement. And it hurt her. She was starting to care for him.

  For some reason, even though most men should have been, I didn’t feel threatened by that. Probably because if he was a hound, he was several thousand years old.

  “Hunting is a great idea,” Alexander said, “but first, you need practice. You two can go tomorrow.”

  Was he serious? These hounds were much more of a priority than practice. She could figure out the amulet as we hunted.

  “Should we start practicing now or wait until the morning?” Lizzie asked, ignoring my impatient grunt.

  “Now,” Alexander said before turning to me. “Come back tomorrow evening. I’ll have her ready.”

  I hesitated for a moment longer, still annoyed, but realizing he was probably right. If Lizzie knew how to use the amulet, hunting would go easier and faster, especially since I couldn’t actually track the hounds. The amulet was supposed to help with that. And it really would be better to kill them permanently when we found them.

  “Okay, fine.”

  Giving Lizzie a little wave, and realizing I hadn’t turned into an emotional mess this time around her, I got in my car and left.

  As I drove, I turned my attention to the pressure. It was still building. I really wouldn’t be able to give my all to the “protect Lizzie” job until I figured it out.

  Also . . . it was time to return the fifth victim’s essence to the Shadow Prophet. I couldn’t procrastinate it any longer.

  And so, as soon as I got home and to my laptop, I booked a flight to Kansas, where the Shadow Prophet currently resided. Because I’d known him for years, I knew he moved around a lot. But since I started these jobs for him, he’d always been in the same place.

  The home I’d lived in when I’d been kidnapped.

  23

  Wanting to be fully rested for the upcoming visit with the Shadow Prophet, I had an Uber driver take me to the airport so I could sleep the whole way, thanks to my nightshade tattoo. I also rested in the airport waiting for my flight to board, and again on the flight over. It wasn’t a lot, but it was something.

  When I landed in Kansas, I rented a car and headed to the rundown farmhouse. As was usually the case, nostalgia and homesickness flooded my system.

  I knew why he’d chosen this location. It was his way of keeping me under his thumb. Every time I came, I was ready to fight him, to do something to stop him and to keep myself from continuing his sick work. And every time, he was able to manipulate me into obeying in some way.

  I didn’t want to turn off my emotions completely. My actions might have damned my soul, but I refused to become a zombie.

  The closer I got to my destination, the tighter I gripped the steering wheel. I hated this part of the job. Hated all aspects of interacting with the Shadow Prophet and doing his work, but this—these visits—were the absolute worst.

  The Shadow Prophet had approached me soon after I’d been kidnapped when I was eighteen. He’d told me all about Lizzie—my future relationship with her, how powerful we’d both become, how I’d fall in love with her and she with me—and my eighteen-year-old self had eaten it up. Who wouldn’t have, given the circumstances?

  He’d proved to me that he really was a prophet by prophesying a few things, and I’d fallen for his lies hook, line, and sinker. Of course, not everything he Saw was a lie—a lot of things actually came true.

  Regardless, I knew almost nothing about him. His past, where he came from, how he’d died, or even if he was human. And yes, the Shadow Prophet was dead. It was why I had to do all of this. I hadn’t cared to learn anything else about him back when I’d first met him and he was more willing to talk. I’d really regretted that since. Especially when I’d tried to kill him several times and found out he couldn’t be destroyed.

  Sweat trickled down my back, between my shoulder blades, despite the air conditioner on high. I knew if anyone looked at me right then, they would see a pale, freaked-out, nearly panicked adult.

  I pulled into the driveway of the home from my teenage years. By that point, I was shaking so badly, I could barely put the car in park and engage the e-brake. I took several moments to compose myself, closing my eyes and breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth.

  Abel. You’ve done this before. You can do it again. You can.

  Finally, knowing I was being watched, I exited the car, got my backpack from the back seat, and approached the front door. I stepped through the magical thresholds and barriers that stopped everyone else, feeling as they slid over my body like slugs on skin.

  I paused in the doorway to catch my breath. The slimy feeling slowly dissipated, and my eyesight gradually returned.

  Oh, yeah. The magic rendered you blind for several moments. That way, if someone uninvited managed to break through, the Shadow Prophet’s guards could kill them quickly.

  The living room was empty, as always. I knew now not to buy it. You’d think that after all the times I’d tried to destroy the Shadow Prophet, they wouldn’t allow me back. It was a testament to how powerful and protected he really was.

  I stepped into the living room and to the fridge against the far wall. Sliding my backpack from my shoulders, I carefully pulled the vial I hadn’t touched in well over a week from its protective pouch. Then, opening the fridge, I set the vial next to the other four. I procrastinated shutting the door for several moments. I knew what to expect. He would be there.

  And he was.

  The Shadow Prophet waited patiently. His spirit couldn’t possibly represent the man he’d been when he’d lived. If he really was human, as he claimed.

  The beast that stood before me was severely deformed. He had bright red eyes that protruded too far and a nose that caved back into his face, like a skeleton’s, but with skin covering the holes. His mouth was extremely large and toothless. His ears were ragged and stretched out, and almost his entire skull was showing where hair should have been.

  I didn’t jump. My heart rate didn’t even increase, I was that used to him.

  “Only two more to go,” the Shadow Prophet said. “That is why I chose you. Excellent. I hope things are progressing.”

  “They are. Can I see my mother?”

  The Shadow Prophet paused, and I froze. He’d never hesitated before. His answer was always the same—a fast yes or no.

  He stared at me, his red eyes piercing. “I guarantee she’s alive.”

  What was he playing at? I tried to control the fear and anger that nearly overwhelmed me. “What aren’t you telling me? Is she safe? Are you caring for her as you promised?”

  The ghost-man-thing stepped away from me, giving me space to pass. “But of course . . . As long as you finish your end of the bargain, she’ll be fine. Go. Now. Finish the ritual.”

  I swallowed, shutting the fridge. Knowing exactly what he expected, I entered the hall that used to be lined with family pictures. Now, instead, a large cupboard had been installed, its barn-style doors sliding to the sides.

  I steeled myself, not opening them. The Shadow Prophet watched silently, patiently, as he always did. Eyes closed, I rested my face against the cool wood. No matter how much I prepared myself for this, my reaction was alwa
ys the same. It wasn’t possible to be fully desensitized to what I was about to see.

  Finally, feeling as ready as I ever would be, I opened the door.

  The revulsion and pain slapped me across the face. Their heads were there, perfectly preserved, lined up on the shelves, their expressions frozen in fear and pain. The same expressions I’d seen on their faces as they’d died.

  Swallowing thickly, I reached forward, placing my hand on the nameplates below each head. The Shadow Prophet had forced me to engrave them myself when I’d refused to kill my first victim. It was a warning, a threat. I hadn’t thought he’d carry it out. He’d swiftly proven me wrong.

  “Dad.” I swallowed, trying to keep my voice even.

  “David. Russ. Lori. Kent. Brandon. Leah. Kate. Shannon.”

  Shannon had been my niece, Lori’s daughter. When I’d gotten kidnapped, she’d only been a year old. She’d been sixteen when the Shadow Prophet’s minions had murdered her. I hadn’t even been able to hug her again, to talk to her, to see if she remembered me.

  Tears flowing, my gaze returned to the empty spot next to my dad’s head where my mother’s would go if I failed. I placed my hand there. I couldn’t help the sob that escaped. The Shadow Prophet had only let me see her twice in the last six months. That might not seem like a long time, but to me, it had been an eternity.

  “Mom.” Knowing she was watching, listening, I whispered, “I love you.”

  This ritual was supposed to remind me of what would happen if I failed.

  It wasn’t necessary.

  I’d been there for each of their deaths. I couldn’t possibly forget. I wouldn’t forget.

  I closed my eyes, my tears slowing but still flowing down my cheeks. Not for the first time, I vowed to make the Shadow Prophet regret ever forcing me to do this job. But I didn’t have the energy or ability to add angry emotion to that vow right then. Again, all part of the ritual.

  I’d fought him before. I’d fought him hard. Had tried to kill him. In fact, at one point, I thought I’d succeeded when I’d found a spell that was supposed to kill ghosts. I was free of him for five whole days. But he caught up to me, announcing that the deaths of Kent and Brandon, my two younger brothers, were required for that stunt.

  I hadn’t believed him until he had one of his minions pull them from the covered bed of the truck they’d driven to find me.

  Their deaths had been fairly quick, compared to the rest of my family.

  When he killed Shannon, my niece, that was when I’d finally snapped. When I’d finally agreed to finish the job.

  That had been two victims ago.

  The only leverage the Shadow Prophet had against me anymore was my mother. He’d kept her locked up in her own house for over a year now.

  I gripped the handle of the closet tightly, feeling as the rollers creaked. Then I shut the doors.

  The Shadow Prophet watched. He was pleased, as always, with my actions, with my tears and emotions.

  If only my parents hadn’t been blessed with such a large family. They’d considered themselves so lucky to have eight kids when a curse on mankind prevented most anyone from having more than one or two.

  Unfortunately, it had given the Shadow Prophet a lot of ammunition against me.

  “I have another job for you.”

  I closed my eyes, rocking back on my heels at the thought of more killing. “No.”

  “This one doesn’t involve murder. And I will pay you.” He scoffed. “I offered to pay you for the job you’re currently doing, but we both know what happened there.”

  Of course I’d refused payment. Before the Shadow Prophet, I’d never, ever murdered innocent people. And I knew I’d never do it again.

  If it wasn’t for my family . . .

  “I need you to transport someone from Florida to Houston.”

  That didn’t sound so bad. “Why? And when?”

  “The why doesn’t matter. And next week is when it must be done.”

  “How much will you pay me?”

  “Whatever you find in that valise over there.”

  I strode down the hallway to the desk at the end and opened the valise, finding a thick wad of hundred dollar bills in it. “Good enough.”

  “I thought so. I will send you information through . . . What is she calling herself now?”

  “Melissa.”

  “Yes. Melissa will give you the details.” He paused. “Oh, and Abel, this is a job that requires finesse.”

  “I thought you said I would just be transporting someone.”

  “Oh, but you will be.”

  “Driving doesn’t exactly require finesse.”

  “Melissa will give you more information closer to the job.”

  I almost brought up Lizzie and wanting to get out of having to kill her, but I changed my mind. I’d already tried multiple times to convince him not to force me to do it. I hadn’t forgotten where that plea had gone. My bruises and cuts had taken over a week to heal. Unfortunately, the ones my mother received took much, much longer.

  Instead, I said, “If I’m doing this job, I’ll need more time with the sixth target.”

  A glint appeared in the Shadow Prophet’s eye. “Lizzie . . . of course you’ll want more time.” He smiled at me, his toothless mouth gaping and disgusting. “How are you handling being around her?”

  “Why ask? You already know.” He’d prophesied I’d end up with the woman, after all, and had decided, as a result, that I’d be the perfect person to murder her.

  First he makes me fall for her. Then he blackmails me into murdering her.

  My insides boiled just thinking of the vice he gripped me with.

  “Indeed I do. Still, I like hearing it in your words.”

  “No.” I wasn’t going there.

  He nodded to someone I’d felt approach from behind, and I felt a sharp prick on my neck. Without glancing to the side, I knew one of his henchmen was there, holding a knife to me.

  “Torture,” I said, deciding to pick my battles. “Complete torture.” If I didn’t answer, the man would only cut me deeper.

  “Good.” He tapped his cheek, watching me. “It’s going to take you a while to do this one, as I foresaw. I’ll give you the extension you want.” He leaned closer to me. “You have three months, or your mother dies.”

  Whoa. That was a generous extension. The longest I’d received so far was three weeks.

  Despite my depression and muted anger and sadness, I still felt a bit of light enter the cloudy haze I’d lived in recently.

  Vial returned, ritual complete, and conversations finished, I left the house and returned to my rental car.

  I made sure I got plenty of rest on the flight back, knowing Lizzie and I had a lot to get done once I arrived.

  With all the excitement of the morning, I’d forgotten the pressure, but it was still there, growing stronger, persisting. The sleep I got did help, though, and I vowed to get more rest once Lizzie and I finished hunting with the amulet for the first time.

  24

  By the time I got to Lizzie’s house, I was almost giddy with relief and excitement, despite a massive headache. My visit to Kansas had gone much better than I’d expected, especially since I hadn’t actually needed to ask for the extension. He’d never given one that easily before—I’d always had to beg for them.

  Stretching my calves, I bounced on the balls of my feet outside Lizzie’s house, unable to help the grin that spread across my face. It was almost easy to forget everything I’d done that day, to forget that I was supposed to be assassinating this woman who now stood in front of me, watching me with amusement.

  “Ready?” I asked. Before she could respond, I took a step down the sidewalk, but she caught my arm.

  “What about the fire vampires?”

  Did she want to hunt them instead? I shook my head. “One thing at a time, Lizzie. We can’t do both.”

  “Why don’t we hunt the vampires, then? They are actively killing people.”

/>   “So are the hounds.”

  “The vampires have killed more.”

  “We don’t know that.” My chipperness faded, replaced by irritation. How to help her see my point? I took her shoulder. “If we don’t stop these hounds, you won’t be around to stop the vampires. We focus on the dogs first, and that’s final.”

  She glared at me. “Who died and made you king?”

  “Really, Lizzie? Are we kids again?” I sensed the irony in what I’d said—bossing her around definitely wasn’t what I wanted to do—or should do, for that matter. But that pressure . . . and being around her while thinking about my mom back in Kansas . . .

  Without waiting for her to respond, I turned and strode down the street. I heard Lizzie hurrying to keep up, and I slowed my pace, reminding myself that my position was not her fault. I needed to be gentle with her. It had been so long since I’d worked so closely with someone I cared about, and my usual abrupt manner wouldn’t be appropriate.

  We headed for the train tracks again and followed them first in one direction, then the other. Only one train came through during that time. I wished I could use my tracking tattoo, but even if I could, I wouldn’t have dared risk it with how I was already feeling.

  “Did you find anything when you hunted where the body was found?” Lizzie asked.

  I shook my head, then hesitated. “We found out who the man had been, but not where the hound had come from or where he was staying. There wasn’t enough to point us in the correct direction, and we didn’t have enough reason to search people’s houses.” I growled. “If I’d been alone, I wouldn’t have needed permission.”

  Lizzie didn’t respond, and I wondered if something I’d said had bothered her. A light bulb went off—she worked closely with local law enforcement. It would obviously bother her to do things in a non-kosher way.

  Wanting to take back what I said, but not positive how, I changed the topic. “How does the amulet work?”

  “I’m still not entirely sure. It’s not giving instructions right now, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

  I didn’t respond, instead turning my attention to our search. We were wasting our time by the tracks. We needed to start canvassing the neighborhood around Lizzie’s house, and I indicated so, then led the way. It quickly felt pointless, though, and I clenched my teeth, running my hand through my hair and avoiding her gaze. What were we doing? Why was I struggling so much? This was ridiculous.