Fire Starter (The Sentinels) Page 3

  At the entrance, a side panel listed the inhabitants. According to that, an S. Williams lived at Apartment 37. I keyed in 4123, and the access light turned green and the door buzzed. I pushed it open and walked inside.

  What was I getting myself into? At Bibi’s, Duffy had made clear he’d want something from me. But I hadn’t expected it to happen so soon, and I certainly hadn’t expected to have absolutely no clue what was expected of me. The corridors of the apartment block were poorly lit. The carpet was threadbare and smelled of dust and disrepair. I ignored the lift and found the stairwell, and began to slowly ascend.

  As I did so, I considered what I’d learned about the Colliers from my internet research. John Collier had grown up in poverty, won scholarships to college, earned a law degree but never practiced. He was an only child and both his parents were dead, his mother from cancer and his father in a gang shooting when John was twenty. He’d turned to freelance journalism where he’d already earned a good reputation after only a few years, though he hadn’t published anything particularly hard hitting.

  His wife was why they lived in a mansion instead of a small apartment. Alice Collier nee Wyndham came from money. The Wyndhams were among the wealthiest families in Lusteer. She’d defied her parents in marrying John Collier and been disowned. Due to a direct inheritance from her grandparents, she had managed to retain the mansion if not the money to maintain it. Since Alex and Jo were in Gorlam’s, it meant that the Wyndhams still hadn’t forgiven Alice even in death, and that her sins—in the eyes of the family—continued to her children.

  On the third floor, I exited into the corridor. At Apartment Number 37, I hesitated for a long moment. Finally I managed to force myself to rap softly on the door. The man who came to the door was wearing a green checkered shirt. He looked tired and his eyes were bloodshot. Thick black stubble clung to a square jaw. I felt a vague recognition I couldn’t place.

  He had no such trouble recognizing me. His eyes widened. “You,” he snarled. He gave me a shove that sent me spinning against the far wall, then took off running.

  I just about managed to maintain my balance.

  “Wait!” I shouted. “I mean no harm. I just want to talk.”

  He didn’t pause, racing into the stairwell. I ran after him. He pounded up the stairs and I chased him. “Wait!” I shouted again. At the top, he burst through a wooden door, slamming it shut behind him. I shoved it open behind him and raced onto the roof, then slowed.

  He had stopped, his head bowed slightly. The moon was visible over his right shoulder. I had chased him simply because he had run and now realized it mightn’t have been the best idea. He stood panting, his massive shoulders rising and falling. “Duffy told me that Flavini had dealt with you.” Deep shadows cut through his face as he turned his head.

  “Change of plan.” I didn’t know who Flavini was, or what the original plan was, but Duffy bringing me here suggested a change in strategy by someone.

  “You want to go for round two. I’m not afraid of you.” He turned fully.

  When did round one happen? Why would he be afraid of me? He seemed vaguely familiar but I would certainly remember if I’d fought him, mainly because he would have beaten the snot out of me. Nothing made sense.

  “Let’s start at the beginning,” I said. “The Collier’s Mansion.” That had been the start of me getting involved with this. Whatever this was.

  “Do your worst, fire fiend. I’m ready for you this time.”

  Smoke rose up around him. I stepped back, my mouth suddenly dry. The smoke thickened to a cloud that hid him completely. Within the dark cloud, shadows whirled, and the snarling roar that emerged was not something that could come from a human throat. I backed rapidly away, grabbing the door and yanking it open.

  I didn’t dash through immediately though. I had to see. The smoke cleared and somehow I knew what I was going to see the moment before I did. It was impossible, though, that I could know what to expect, impossible for the creature before me to exist, and even more impossible for a man to transform into it. But I couldn’t deny my own eyes.

  The shirt and jeans the man had worn hung from the creature in tatters. A snout stretched out its face and its eyes were large and yellow. Gray fur covered its body. It wasn’t much taller than before, but it was hunched over, with muscle rippling though it. Its arms were elongated with fingers twisted and clawed.

  It sprang toward me, and I flung the door closed behind me. The paneling bowed inward as the beast crashed into it. I took the stairs four at a time, half falling, relying on instinct and fear to keep me upright.

  I was halfway between the third and fourth floor when air whooshed past me as something plummeted down the central gap in the stairwell. I grabbed hold of the banister and looked down to see the creature grab the edge of the stairs and somersaulted onto the third floor landing. I turned and fled back up, exiting onto the fourth floor. I twisted the handle of the first door I reached and—life-savior, literally—it opened. I jumped inside, shoved it closed and turned the thumb latch to lock it.

  I was just in time. An instant later, the creature crashed into the door, which vibrated and a splintering boom sounded. I ran into the living room. A bedroom door opened a crack. “Get back in there and don’t come out!” I shouted. The door snapped shut. “And lock your door in the future.” The last was probably unnecessary. Whoever owned this apartment wouldn’t make the mistake of leaving their door open again. Especially if whoever it was got a glimpse of the creature following me.

  The glass door at the back of the living room had the key in the lock. Because my hand was shaking it took a few attempts before I managed to unlock it. I slid the door open, stepped out onto the balcony, then closed it behind me. A fire escape connected the balconies, leading down to an alleyway below. My breath came in big gulps. I started down, then hesitated. Could I make it to street level before I was caught? When I heard a smashing sound behind me, I realized the chances were slim.

  So instead of descending, I ripped my leather jacket off, and threw it over the balcony, then started to climb up the fire escape. I reached the roof just as glass smashed, and threw myself away from the edge so I wouldn’t be visible from below.

  I waited a few moments, then lowered myself onto my belly and eased forward so I could sneak a peak downward. The creature was on the balcony, his head rotating as he scanned the alleyway below. My leather jacket swayed on the railing of a ground floor balcony.

  The creature vaulted over the railing. Gravel crunched as he landed on his feet. It immediately straightened as if a three story fall was nothing but a small hop. I swallowed hard. The leather jacket fell from the railing and landed at his feet. I could only hope he didn’t pause to wonder why I would have stopped mid-chase to remove my jacket.

  He sniffed at it, looked one way, then the other before bounding up the alleyway and disappearing around the corner. I turned onto my back and sucked in slow steady breaths of cool night air. The moon shone white light down on me, making me wonder if I had it to blame for what I had seen.

  I suspected it wasn’t. A werewolf had jumped out of the storybooks and into my life, but that didn’t mean that all the mythos about the werewolf story were true. Or any of them.

  I peeked back into the alley again. Empty. The devil's choice: risk going down and hope to get away before it returned, or wait and hope it didn’t find me when it returned. On balance, considering it lived there, immediate escape seemed the best option.

  Realizing that I should descend was one thing, making myself actually do it was a whole other thing. My legs felt weak and my hands were reluctant to grab the top of the fire escape. Once I started down, though, I sped up, rattling the rungs as I moved as fast as I dared. Despite slippery rungs and the speedy descent, I kept one eye on the corner where I’d last seen the creature, ready to reverse direction at any sign of it returning.

  On the ground, I paused to pick up my leather jacket, then raced in the opposite direction to
the one which the werewolf had chosen. I passed by where Duffy had parked but the dark red Merc was gone.

  Chapter 6

  Friday 20:05

  Once I had started running, I couldn’t stop. My heart thundered in my body, and several times I sprinted straight into the middle of the road. Cars skidded to a stop, beeping, but I barely noticed them. I just kept running.

  Only when my legs wobbled and threatened to completely give up on me did I slow, and finally stop. I doubled over, one hand against the wall and sucked in long shuddering breaths as I fought to give my body the oxygen it needed. Passersby gave me a wide berth.

  When I recovered my breath, I looked around. It took several moments to figure out where I was. Garish neon signs and bright streetlights lit up pavements thick with tipsy crowds and the street was bumper to bumper with taxis. I was on Lecturn Street in the middle of the late night district. Was it a coincidence that I had ended up there or had I instinctively run toward the part of Lusteer that would have the most people on a Friday night?

  I pulled my mobile phone from my hip pocket before realizing I had no one obvious to ring. Being independent had its disadvantages. After a little thought, I dialed Jo’s number.

  “Yes,” she answered instantly.

  “Can you tell me that nightmares aren’t real?” I asked her.

  “Is that you, Rune?”

  “Just tell me.”

  “Nightmares aren’t real.”

  “Good to know.” It didn’t help. “You on the computer? Can you check something for me?”

  “Hold on while I switch on the laptop. You are out of breath. Is something wrong?”

  “Everything is just gravy wavy.” I had no idea what that even meant. The mobile phone no longer rattled as much in my hand, though. That was something. The sound of a normal voice was starting to calm me down.

  “Should I be worried about you?” Jo asked. “Laptop has booted up. What do you want me to check?”

  “I’m okay now,” I assured her. I wasn’t. “I’m looking for a guy by the name of Flavini.” That was who Williams had said was supposed to have dealt with me.

  The sound of keys being tapped on the laptop came through the phone.

  “I’m sure there is more than one,” she said. “Anything else you can tell me?”

  “He could be a tall man with stringy gray hair, wearing a tan overcoat.” It was the memory that I couldn’t place. After the encounter with Williams, I was realizing that I could no longer trust what I remembered.

  The line was quiet for a few minutes except for the key taps. I managed to get my breathing under control, but my heartbeat continued to pound like a galloping racehorse. I had just met a werewolf that was under the impression that we had fought previously. And what had he called me: a fire fiend? I needed to figure out what in Beezlebub’s nostrils was going on.

  “Flavini’s Bites,” Jo said finally. “It’s a fishing tackle shop. The owner isn’t wearing an overcoat in the picture I found, but he’s tall and thin with gray hair.”

  “Do you have an address for the owner?”

  “From what I can tell, he lives above his shop. Juniper Lane, near Washington Avenue. Do you know where that is?”

  “More or less. Thanks for your help.”

  “Rune. I managed to get into my father’s files and I found something. You are going to think this is crazy.”

  “Believe me, I’m not. I’m never going to find anything crazy ever again.”

  “There’s this recent article he was writing. From emails, it seems that he pitched it to various newspapers and was turned down. He was planning to publish it online. It’s called...” She paused. “The article is well researched. It’s not the ravings of a lunatic.”

  “Tell me the name of the article.”

  “Crime Gangs Making Use of Supernatural Enforcers.”

  If Jo had told me about the article a few hours earlier, I would have thought her father had gone off the deep end. After what I had just seen, I knew what he had wanted to publish had gotten him killed. “Your father was a smart man, Jo.” Smart to have figured it out, perhaps not smart in wanting to publish. “And a brave one. Don’t tell Alex.”

  “I’ll tell him tomorrow morning.”

  “Okay, not until then. And stop poking around in your father’s files for now.” Who knew what else she’d find?

  “Rune, you don’t think he was crazy.”

  “No, I don’t. There’s more to the world than we know.” Like a werewolf who wanted to tear my face off. “I’ll be able to tell you more when we next meet.”

  As I hung up, I considered more fully the name of the shop: Flavini’s Bites.

  A chill passed through me. Suddenly, that didn’t seem like an innocent name. Who or what was I going to find there?

  Chapter 7

  Friday 22:10

  I rattled the glass paneling on the door for the fiftieth time and finally a light appeared in the back of the shop. My feet were sore from the long walk between Lecturn Street and Juniper Lane but at least I felt semi-normal again. My fingers no longer trembled.

  “Go away!” came a shout.

  “You’ll want to talk to me.” I dreaded finding out more, but I had no choice. I needed to know what was going on.

  A face peered out. He looked both ways to either side of me, then unlatched and opened the door. He wore a white dressing gown and slippers. “I don’t want to talk to you.”

  “You remember me though, don’t you. You were wearing a tan overcoat when we last met.”

  “You remember that, do you?”

  “I need help.”

  “I’m not the helping kind.” He started to close the door, but I put my foot in to block it.

  The way he studied me suggested he had some interest. “You are the curious kind though, aren’t you?”

  A smile crept his face. He considered, then moved aside to let me in. “You have me there.”

  “So are you going to fill me in?”

  “Want some tea?” He closed the door behind me and moved to a small table at the side of his shop.

  “No.” I followed him, passing between racks of tall fishing rods.

  He touched a light switch and a single bulb came on, illuminating a small kettle and a basket of biscuits. He switched the kettle on. “Biscuit?” he asked.

  “No,” I said. “So? You going to explain?”

  Flavini chuckled. “You don’t even know enough to ask intelligent questions.” He pulled up a chair, sat down and crossed one long thin leg over the other.

  “I don’t need to see that.” His thin bony legs dangled free of the dressing gown.

  He chuckled again. “Scary, huh,” then folded the dressing gown over them. “So, you have questions?”

  “Are you a vampire?”

  “I vant to suck your blood. Ho ho ho. No, I’m not a vampire.”

  “Flavini Bites,” I said.

  “Inside joke. Vampires don’t suck blood anyway.”

  “What do they do?”

  “I don’t want to ruin the surprise when you meet your first vampire.” The kettle whistled and Flavini lifted it. He busied himself making tea while I tried to figure out what questions to ask. When he had finished he sat back down, crossed his legs, folded his dressing gown, took a sip of tea, then peered at me from over the cup and saucer. “So?”

  “Did you take my memory?”

  “Now we are getting somewhere.” He smiled and took another sip or tea. “Where did the question come from? A guess or a remembrance.”

  “A guess.” 911 calls didn’t get routed to police, fire, ambulance, and fish-tackle shops. Williams had remembered me, had fought me. The supernatural was real. So if Flavini had been summoned there to deal with me...

  He nodded. “It’s a good guess.”

  “Give back my memories,” I demanded.

  “I can’t reverse the magic. And even if I could, I wouldn’t. As I told you, I’m not the helping kind.”

&nb
sp; “But you are the curious kind. So, you are waiting for...”

  He smiled. “I’m wondering if you can break the spell yourself.”

  “How?”

  “You tell me.”

  I squeezed my fingers into fists. The key to the mystery was inside my own head and I had to get it out or remain in the dark. I shut my eyes and cast my memory back, thinking about going to sleep that night, then...fizz...the next thing I could remember was Duffy standing over me as I sat on the grass with the mansion burning behind him.

  No, there was more. I concentrated and remembered Flavini. Then...nothing else. I tried to recall Williams from before that night. Suddenly I saw him in the Collier’s garden with moonlit trees behind him, then...fizz...nothing again.

  “It’s okay. I didn’t expect you to be able to do it,” Flavini said.

  I ground my teeth. How dare the old man mess with my head? I wasn’t going to let him keep me from my own memory. I flashed through the memories I had of the night. The mansion on fire. Flavini. Duffy. Williams...fizz. The mansion. Flavini. Duffy. Williams. The fire.

  I stumbled to the side, my arm flinging outward and sending a row of fishing rods crashing to the floor. I saw the mansion on fire, I looked through it, through the flames, through the heat, and out the other side.

  And I remembered.

  Chapter 8

  Thursday 03:30

  The moon was almost full, and the leaves shimmered with a silvery coating. I breathed in the crisp night air. In front of me, the mansion was resting peacefully and I knew I should be fast asleep in the treehouse, not standing barefoot in the wet grass, feeling a cold dampness climb up my shins.

  Darkness shifted and my head snapped around. A shadow walked forward, coalescing into a man. “You shouldn’t be here,” he said.

  I backed away. “I realize that. Forget I’m here. I’m good at disappearing.”

  The man stalked closer. “You are about to get better at it.”

  My reversing speed increased. I tripped over backward, sprung to my feet and continued retreating. The man’s features became clearer as we emerged from the trees and out into the lawn. Coarse black stubble covered a square chin.