Darker Things (The Lockman Chronicles #1) (34 page)

“What difference?”

“The difference between me and that thing that was inside of me.”

“Let’s get the hell out of here.”

Chapter Fifty

Such a better idea than cutting himself.

Dolan jammed the letter opener into Tanner’s throat and worked a good-sized hole to let the blood out while it still flowed from his dead body. The puddle rolled across the dirty floor. Dolan had to jump to his feet and step aside to avoid getting it all over his clothes.

He took the bronze cube and set one side face down in the blood like filling a stamp with ink. Then he turned the cube to coat another side. He repeated this until all sides were coated. Tanner’s blood ran through the grooves carved in the artifact and stained the bronze surface with a muddy hue. Dolan held the cube with his fingertips to avoid sapping more blood from its surface than necessary. He did not mind the slick feel against the pads of his fingers. He had started playing with blood at seven years of age. It fazed him no more than it would a butcher.

A sacrifice. Not an ideal one. Most of the passion of Tanner’s death had passed as quickly as the death itself. But it might be enough to awaken the artifact. He might not get his brother back as he had hoped, but he might be able to erase Craig Lockman from this world and peel away enough memories to tell him where to find the stash of artifacts.

He had every confidence Lockman was still in the building. The imps covered all obvious exits, a wise precaution he had made the moment they had Lockman inside. Otto Dolan would not underestimate him again. Better yet, Dolan still had the Detroit police force on call, courtesy of the Mayor. Tanner’s unfortunate fate was a minor setback in the scheme of things. The plan would continue, and the Movement would have its day.

Artifact in hand, he stepped over Tanner’s body and headed out to find Lockman.

Lockman paused, staring into a darkness that thickened the deeper it went.

“This is insane,” Jessie said.

“I took the flashlight off that kid back in the room. No worries.”

“Seriously,” Jessie said. “This is like my worst nightmare. We can’t go this way.”

“The other ways will be the same.”

“How is Dolan getting around?” Kate asked.

“Aside from his own flashlight? He probably knows the place. It’s his little funhouse we have to find our way out of.”

Jessie raised a hand. “Um, not really feeling the fun.”

“We can’t just sit here.” Kate grabbed the flashlight from Lockman and turned it on. The darkness seemed to swallow the petty beam.

Jessie cleared her throat. “I vote for sitting, rather than going into the dark hallway of doom.”

Lockman stared into the dark. A chill whispered through him. He felt as if something stared back. Could be his imagination getting carried away. He was playing right into Dolan’s plan, letting paranoia make him second guess himself.

He looked over his shoulder toward the way they had come. The room Dolan had set up for his ritual used to be a break room judging from the cracked linoleum flooring and the battered and empty soda machine in one corner. One tiny room in a potential labyrinth of dark hallways and home to who knew what.

“Maybe you girls should stay with the light. I’ll scout ahead to make sure it’s safe.”

“That is the most sexist thing I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth,” Kate said.

“Sexist?”

“The girls can’t handle the dark?”

“This girl can’t,” Jessie said and pointed at herself.

“I didn’t mean it as sexist. I have the guns.” He indicated the pair of guns tucked into his waistband he had picked off Alec and the kid in the fatigues. “And I know how to use them.”

“You taught me how to shoot. Don’t you remember?”

Jessie’s gaze ping-ponged between Lockman and her mom. “You what?”

Lockman waved a hand. “I
tried
to show you how to shoot. Once. And after you took out my windshield, I realized shooting was not your thing.”

Jessie snorted laughter.

“Are we really going to stand here and criticize my shooting when there’s a lunatic out there with ghosts and werewolves and space aliens out to kill us?”

Lockman reared his head back. “Really? Space aliens?”

She threw up her hands. “Why not? You’re going to tell me you don’t believe in little green men?”

“I’ve never seen one.”

“I never saw a werewolf until my husband turned into one.”

“Okay, guys. Can you save the snarky banter for the movie version,” Jessie said. “I want out of here.”

“She’s right,” Kate said. “But we’re doing it together. No one stays behind or scouts ahead.”

Lockman studied Kate. He let himself crack a smile. “Okay. But no questions, follow my lead, and—”

“Do as you say,” Jessie finished. “Think I’ve heard that before.”

Kate bent down in front of Jessie and put her hands on her daughter’s shoulders. “You okay with this?”

“No,” she said with a straight face. “But if I was going to let fear get the best of me, I would have quit when the vampires had me.”

Kate’s brow furled. She looked at Lockman. “Vampires?”

“When we met, it was vampires.”

“Probably why Dolan’s keeping the place so dark,” Jessie said.

“Maybe.”

Kate rattled her head. “Vampires. But no space aliens. Right. Got it.”

Lockman drew one of his acquired weapons. “Let’s go.”

“What did you mean by maybe,” Jessie asked as the three of them crept into the dark hallway.

Lockman swept the hall with the flashlight as they moved forward. “Maybe it’s dark for the vamps. But we haven’t seen a single vamp since LA. I think Dolan gave up on them. Then he tempted fate by trying to control a ghost. If I had to guess, there’s something else creeping around in the shadows here.”

Jessie’s breathing quickened, echoing in the hall.

He looked for her, but they had strayed far enough from the break room and the votive light that darkness obscured her face. “You okay?”

“Of course she isn’t,” Kate said. “Hell, you made
me
wet myself a little. Try to be a little more positive, will you?”

Lockman snorted. Positive? She wanted positive from the man who had to behead her husband? Even for an ex-agent with a paranormal ops unit, he found himself in weirder territory than ever before—and not only because of the supernatural. He afforded a wistful thought back to his determination to keep himself emotionally detached.

“I’ll do my best.”

The flashlight twisted the shadows before them like black taffy, never quite able to tear through. The temperature dropped a few degrees. Lockman’s arms rippled with gooseflesh. He stopped.

Jessie and Kate stopped with him, their shoes scuffing on the gritty floor.

“Anyone know what time of day it is?”

They both said no. Lockman thought it still should be daylight out, which meant this hall was purposefully kept dark. Which also meant the drop in temperature couldn’t have come from the draft through an open window. Lockman doubted Dolan put any money into heating or cooling.

The temperature was unnatural. Supernatural.

“We need to turn around.”

“Why?” Kate asked.

“No questions, remember? Follow my lead. Do as I say.”

Something snuffed in the dark like a bull.

Lockman swung the light around, scanning the floors, the walls, up the walls, the ceiling.

The gray, wet face squinted in the light beam and opened its serrated mouth to scream.

“Run. Run!”

The three of them spun and charged back the way they came. Lockman did his best to keep the light in front of their rushing feet. Behind him, the sound of hooves clopping on the cement floor followed close.

He could hear Jessie’s labored breathing. She was hyperventilating. After all she had been through, the darkness was what finally got to her. And he had led her right into it.

He grabbed her by the arm and pumped his legs harder, hoping he could spur her to run faster. Each breath rattled louder than her last until she broke into a steady heaving. She couldn’t keep on like this. He pushed her ahead and swung around, slicing down with the flashlight beam like a sword. He struck the approaching beast square in the face and it scampered to a halt, its hooves grinding against the floor like stone against stone.

Lockman took aim and opened fire.

The combination of barrel flashes and the shaking beam from the flashlight filled the hall like a disco strobe. Lockman caught flickering glimpses of the damage he wrought on the creature before him as he continued squeezing the trigger. Gray bits of flesh and blood the color and consistency of hot tar flung from the beast and hit the walls and floor with wet slaps.

The pistol locked empty.

Lockman kept the flashlight aimed at the creature which had fallen to the floor. It looked like a cross between a bald Billy goat and a bat. The smell of mold and earth wafted from its carcass.

“Kate? Jessie?”

He faintly heard Jessie’s labored breathing over the ringing in his ears from the gunfire.

“We’re here,” Kate said. “Jessie’s hyperventilating.”

Another sound rang through the dark hall.

Lockman lifted the flashlight beam to shine down the way.

Something moved in the shadows. And again that sound. Like a bowling ball hitting a single pin. Or a hoof clopping against a cement floor.

“All the way back to the room,” Lockman said. “Into the light. There’s more of them.”

Chapter Fifty-One

When they filed back into the break room, Dolan was waiting for them.

Lockman reached for the second gun in his waistband, but Dolan grabbed Jessie around the throat and shielded himself.

Lockman lined up the pistol’s sight with Dolan’s head. “Let her go.”

Jessie was still hyperventilating. Her face had turned a beet red and glistened in the room’s remaining candlelight. Despite that, she tried to stomp on Dolan’s instep.

He leaned back until she hung by her neck in the crook of his arm, her feet off the floor.

“Jessie,” Kate shouted.

“All I want is you,” Dolan said. He raised his free hand to show the cube-shaped artifact now smeared with blood. “Put the gun down and come over here and no one else will get hurt.”

“Forget it.” Lockman pulled back the hammer.

“Craig, don’t.” Kate put a hand on his shoulder.

His muscles stiffened. He looked into Jessie’s suffering eyes.

She shook her head, but he didn’t know what she meant. Don’t shoot? Don’t give in? She was just a young girl. She couldn’t make that kind of call. He had been trained to make calls like this. He knew the right move. Take the shot. If Dolan got hold of him, managed to access the memories from his former self, the results could be catastrophic to national security. Hell,
world
security.

Take the shot.

Odds were he could hit Dolan without hitting Jessie.

Dolan seemed to read Lockman’s calculations. “I can use this on her as easily as on you. Should I rip out her soul? Maybe hers can be a part of the government’s next experimental agent. After all, you’re family, right?”

“You do that, you’ll lose your charge. You won’t get to me.”

“Are you saying you’re willing to take me down at the expense of your daughter’s soul?”

“Craig, please.” Kate’s voice shook.

Jessie closed her eyes and seemed to will her breathing to steady. “Shoot him.”

A muscle twitched in Lockman’s cheek. A vein in his forehead felt ready to burst.

What about the greater good?

Lockman eased the hammer on his pistol forward, turned on the safety, and dropped the gun to the floor. He kicked it across to Dolan.

“Nice,” Dolan said. He shoved Jessie at Lockman.

Lockman caught her, held her tightly.

She continued to gasp but hugged back at him. “You stupid ass. That one ghost was bad enough. What do you think is going to happen with a whole city full of them?”

“Just make sure you and your mom aren’t anywhere near here when it happens.”

She shoved him away. “That’s good enough for you?”

He looked to Kate. “Make sure she’s safe.”

Dolan picked up the pistol, thumbed off the safety, and aimed at Lockman. “Lift up that gurney and lay down.”

Lockman ruffled Jessie’s hair then stepped over to the gurney and righted it. “You have me. Let them go.”

Dolan sucked on his teeth. He studied Kate and Jessie. “I could still sacrifice one of them to fully power this thing. I’m afraid Tanner’s cold blood won’t have the juice to do a full soul transplant, so to speak.”

“You try it, and you’ll have to kill me first. Then you’ve got nothing.”

“This whole affair has given you an inflated sense of self, hasn’t it?” He lifted the cube to eye-level, turned it one way, then the other. “I suppose I could put Gabriel’s soul back in any old body if I figured out how this thing worked more precisely. Then I wouldn’t need you at all. Alas, the mayor has paid me a pretty sum to haunt this good city. I don’t have the time. Besides, I don’t think our relationship would be quite the same. I think I’ve come to resent my brother a bit. Ironic, no?”