Sing for the Dead (London Undead) (9 page)

Chapter Seven

“Interesting.”

“We’re back at Kensington Gardens.” Sorcha had her short swords out as she studied the outdoor car park.

With the darkening sky, zombies would be more active.

“Right at the end of Perk’s Field, no less.” Kayden made his way along the edge of the paved area, coming to a stop at a tree. It was the largest of a small copse separating the car park from the broad expanse of overgrown lawn that was called Perk’s Field. Many hunters chose the stand of trees as a vantage point when hunting the random corpses wandering across the wide-open area.

“And the pack of zombies headed straight into the gardens?” Sorcha kicked the tire of an abandoned car.

“Not quite.” Kayden circled the tree, studying the ground. “Dirt’s scuffed to hell here and the turf is torn up all around the tree. The zombies milled around this one, scraped and scratched at the tree trunk.”

Rot and decay filled his nostrils. He looked up into the branches. There—a few small branches were broken.

He made a controlled shift and claws extended from his fingertips. Making an easy leap, he grabbed the lowest branch and hauled himself up. And there was the scent he was looking for. “A boy was in this tree. A human one.”

Sorcha came to stand beneath the tree. “Any sign of him?”

Poor kid could have fallen, but there were no torn clothes or sign of remains. The zombies weren’t clean eaters. Shreds of fabric or gnawed bones would at least be left behind. Kayden jumped clear of the branch and landed easily next to Sorcha. “Looking for it, but the zombies’ scent cover his. I’m going to range out a bit and see what else I find.”

When they’d entered, he’d been focused on the marker Seth’s pack had left. And then he’d been on the zombies’ trail. Now, he was casting around for other fresh scents from the boy or from others recently passed through the area.

“Kayden.” He turned to see Sorcha standing a few yards from the tree, deeper in the gardens. She crouched and retrieved something. “Another charm.”

Aye, they were onto something then. And his instinct told him it wasn’t the zombies they needed to track. He circled the tree in ever-widening circles until he found the boy’s scent, finally—sharp and unmuddled by the decay of walking dead. “We’ve got a trail.”

Sorcha caught up with him, eyes on the ground, watching for signs as he used his nose to follow the scents.

“A small boy,” she commented.

He didn’t break his stride, didn’t look up from the trail in case he missed something. “The footprints?”

“Aye.” She paused. “Smaller than mine, even. And there’s more of them.”

Talented tracker, though tracking by sight more than scent. The leopard aspect of him approved. She was a good hunting partner, this one, one to keep if he could.

Several other boys had joined their clue as he hit Bayswater Road and crossed. He picked up five distinct scent signatures, all dirty and unwashed, but human. They had headed together down the street, not long ago. The trail was hot.

In minutes, Kayden and Sorcha stood in front of an old church. They crept up the steps and heard voices raised.

Kayden glanced at Sorcha, nodded as she tested the door, then opened it slow and soundless. They slipped in and kept to the shadows inside the entryway.

Their quarry was on the dais gathered around an adult, equally dirty and balding. The man had one of the boys by the front of his shirt.

“Ye done a botch job of it, now!” The grimy man shook the boy. “Didn’t I tell you the next time I wouldn’t just box yer ears. I’m sendin’ ya down below to Himself personally. Ya understand me?”

“N-nah. Don’t.” The boy’s teeth clicked. Whether from terror or from the force of the man shaking him, Kayden wasn’t sure. But he didn’t care. Anger built inside him, a rising wave of heat.

“Keep hold of it, I told ye. Don’t lose it!” The man punctuated each sentence with a hard shake. “Ye were supposed to carry it all the way to the playground. There’s somewhat Himself wants there.”

The playground. Diana’s children’s playground was the closest to the area where they’d found the lure. Kayden shot a look at Sorcha. She was crouched low, ready to dart down the aisle.

“I give ye a safe place, keep ye outta the cold, and this is wot you do?” The man continued his tirade. “I ought to send the lot ye down below wit no protection. See if Himself will listen to yer excuses.”

“They were fast.” Another boy broke in. This one had spiky dark hair and dark skin. “Too fast. We couldna stay fer enough ahead o’ them. Barely had time to toss Goggles up the tree ’fore they were on us.”

“Ye had enough time to run fer it, didn’t ye?” The old man clenched his free hand and backhanded the dark boy.

Kayden’s temper snapped.

He charged with a roar. The entire room darkened in his vision, only the man remained in focus. The man dropped his captive, and the boys dodged to one side. Kayden didn’t care. His target was the old bastard.

How could he? How dare he send children into harm’s way?

The man didn’t even run. The acrid scent of urine burned Kayden’s nostrils and the man’s scream filled his ears. He reached for the man with clawed hands and lifted him clear off the ground.

“Please! Please!” The man screeched. “Don’t!”

“Monster!” Kayden roared into his face.

“Kayden! The children!” Sorcha’s voice cut through his rage.

The children, the children. He hadn’t been there for them. They’d stood no chance.

And monsters like this pitiful human had probably left them to die, used them as bait.

The man struggled and Kayden tightened his hold, bones breaking under his grip. The man screamed.

“Not in front of them. Do you hear me, Kayden? Not in front of the children.” This time her words were a cold strike against his anger. She was right. They’d seen enough horror.

Kayden stared into the man’s terrified gaze and snarled, letting the full force of his dominance loose. The man uttered a whimper, his eyes rolled up into the back of his skull and he went limp.

“I-is he dead?” A young voice echoed in the startled quiet of the church.

Kayden panted, reaching for control and penning up his rage. “No. Coward passed out.”

He tossed the man aside in disgust, not caring how hurt the bastard was. When he turned toward the speaker, he found the five boys crouched in the side aisle under a stained-glass window, partially boarded up. Sorcha had blocked their escape route and stood by them.

Their fear hung sour in the air, mingling with the terror of their keeper.

What could he say?

They probably feared him more than the old bastard.

“Shite, Ollie, ye were right about them Weres. They don’t waste time pissing around when something sets ’em off.”

* * *

The resilience of human children amazed Sorcha.

The boys had transitioned from being afraid of Kayden to a hesitant sort of expectation, taking note of his every move. The puzzled look on Kayden’s face probably helped convince them he meant them no harm.

She’d told them as much when she’d stopped them from running. Kayden’s response to her had given them something to hope for.

Kayden recovered his balance quickly though, and she tucked the memory of his flummoxed expression away for another time. It’d bring her a smile.

“Oy, you lot.” Kayden addressed the pack of boys. “What’re you called?”

The boys eyed the big man warily and Sorcha didn’t blame them. Kayden’s voice still sounded sharp with temper despite his calmer appearance.

“I’m Ollie.” The skinniest one stepped forward. He jerked his head to indicate the others. “Them’s Dan, Dan and Dan and Dougie.”

Not related, at least as far as she could see under the dirt and rags. The five of them had different builds, different shapes to their faces.

“How’d you all know which Dan you’re talking to?” Kayden leaned against the wall, crossing his arms. The press of his intimidation lessened with his casual pose.

Ollie gave him a lopsided grin, bright white teeth flashing against the boy’s dark skin. “He’s Peas, he’s Goggles and he’s Doc.”

Each of the “Dans” gave a small wave based on his nickname. No longer poised to bolt, the boys relaxed into slouches. Their gazes drawn in by the charisma of Kayden.

Did Seth have the same effect on his wolves?

“Why Peas?” Kayden asked, nodding to the smallest of them.

It was the boy named Dougie who spoke up. “‘Cause when we go huntin’ fer leftovers behind the pubs, he always goes fer the mushy peas.”

Doc shook his head.

“What’s wrong with that?” Sorcha asked.

“Ye never know if what looks like mushy peas is mushy peas till it’s too late.”

She wouldn’t know. Judging from the nods of agreement and the twitch at the corner of Kayden’s mouth, Doc had a point.

Dougie was studying her. “Yer not quite right.”

Ollie took a swipe at Dougie, catching him across the back of the head. “Oy. What’re you, daft? Ye don’t talk to ladies that way.”

“I didn’t mean it in a bad way.” Dougie rubbed the spot, thick brown hair falling across his eyes. “I’m sayin’ she’s not properly like a lady.”

Goggles raised his hand, but Dougie blocked him before the other boy could take a swing. Letting out a huff, Goggles threw up his hands. “Ye don’t say that to a lady either.”

The boys leaped at each other, scuffling until they were a mob on the floor. Ollie and Dougie had some decent grappling skills. The others added in and they were a pile of long arms and legs.

“Enough.” They froze under Kayden’s command, then relaxed as he chuckled.

“Dougie’s right, you know.” She didn’t speak to any of them in particular. “I’m not a proper lady.”

“You’re a grand fighter. Can tell by all your weapons. You hold ’em like ye know how to use ‘em.” Dougie piped up before Kayden could say something. “And you’ve got this glow about you. Silver-like.”

“Don’t say it.” Ollie’s quiet command had Dougie shutting his mouth on whatever else the boy might’ve added. “The Fair Folk, they dinnae like it when you tell what they are.”

She raised an eyebrow at Kayden. Dougie might have some fae in his bloodline. Not sidhe, not with his broader shoulders and thicker bone structure. But maybe he had a touch of Red Cap or one of the other warrior fae. Ollie, with his dark eyes and skin, might as well but she rather thought he came to conclusions after adding bits of information together. “And how do you know we don’t like being revealed as fae?” Aside from the brownie she’d saved, she’d not found other fae as yet. The fae were good at hiding.

Guilty looks and more than a spark of fear in their eyes.

Kayden crossed his arms over his chest. “We overheard a bit before we came in. You lot might as well spill what you know.”

“Gaffer...the old prick there.” Ollie jerked his head toward the dais. “He took us in. Gave us a safe place an’ a meal a day in exchange fer errands. Made us give our word on it, right up there.”

Smart. She wandered over to the dais as the boys continued to speak to Kayden.

“At first ’twas just a few runs cross town, fetching bits o’ cloth an’ things we could find. Then he started sendin’ us out ta sneak inta ol’ buildin’s with courtyards, places with some green to ’em that the zombies couldn’t get into ’cause they were inside high walls. Looking for...”

Sorcha looked up as Ollie trailed off. The boys had their heads down, peeking at her from under thatches of unruly hair.

“He sent you looking for fae folk, like her.” Kayden drew their attention back to him.

She stepped onto the dais and ran her hand over chairs, then along the podium, before she found it.

“Aye, Gaffer had us find smaller ones. Said Himself had a use fer ‘em. Sometimes we just had to tell him where they were. Other times, he gave us one of those bundles and they’d follow us.”

She believed it. A lure could be set to call fae as easily as it could be set to call zombies. It was in the will of the creator when the magic was imbued in the charm. The one left in the podium wasn’t a lure, but it explained why the boys were bound to their agreement. The magic forced them to keep their word. The old man must have had them swear on it at the podium, where the magic would bind them.

“Where did you lead them?” Kayden kept his voice calm, but she could hear the anger beneath the surface. Good. She was angry too. Not at the boys, but at the fae.

“Down below.” Ollie’s words quieted to a hush. “Himself lives in the dark there, in the Tube. He’s got zombies there, guardin’ the way. We took all different station entrances, but the closest to him is Notting Hill Gate. When we led the others inta the black, we always had a special bundle in our pockets to keep the zombies away.”

Lures and repellents and bindings. Whoever the fae responsible for this was, he had a way with charms she’d not seen in her many centuries. He must be more than just old, to have perfected his skill. He had to be very good at hiding from the greater powers of the Courts of Light and Dark.

Kayden sighed. “If you had a way to keep the zombies off you, why did they almost have you tonight?”

“Gaffer always took them bundles back. Said we could only have ’em if we were going down below. ’Twas up to us to be fast when he sent us into the big parks.”

“There’ll be no more of that.” The boys breathed audible sighs of relief at Kayden’s statement.

“Agreed.” She held up the tiny charm that bound them to their word. “Your Gaffer broke his word. This place was no longer safe the minute he hit any of you.”

And it probably had happened many times, but the power was in their belief and not in the vow he’d extracted from them.

She tossed the charm on the ground at their feet. “The bargain is nulled. You don’t have to do as he says anymore.”

Besides, Kayden was likely to kill the old man once he’d seen the children safe. If he didn’t, she would.

Bright smiles broke out on their faces. They were free. A warmth spread through her chest and she turned away, embarrassed. Never had her fellow soldiers looked at her with gratitude. Always before they’d feared her, distrusted. Ill luck, bad omen. For centuries none had welcomed her much less given her such sincere smiles.