The Dark Communion (The Midnight Defenders) (33 page)

“Speaking of pain… How’s Finnegan doing?”

“All things considered? He’ll be fine. It’s going to take some time for the burns to fully heal, and even then, he’ll bear the scars for the rest of his life. But he’s got a good spirit. He’ll be okay. And it’ll be some time before he goes back to work.”

“Vacation,” I said. “Good for him.” Ape didn’t say anything. “He really did a lot back there. I was wrong about him. Next time you talk to him, you can tell him I said that.”

“I will. He wanted me to tell you, also, that the Hand’s been dispatched for clean-up duty. Chances are, Brom still has children out there and if they have even a modicum of their own willpower left, they might go after innocents. They’ll find them all.”

“Good,” I said. There was a moment of silence, then I added, “You came for me when I was down.”

“I came for Brom,” he said.

“Yeah, well, you saved my life.”

His smile was weak. “Guess we’re even now.”

“Not even close.”

“I’m glad you’re okay. And for what it’s worth, I’m glad you got to see Anna again.”

I nodded and headed back to the house. As I started to walk, Ape said, “Do you know what the pool is?”

The truth is, I had no fucking idea. Nobody really knew where it came from or what it was, but since Anna’s death, I’d lived with the guilt and pain of her passing every day of my life, and my only desire was to see her again.

“It’s a wishing well.”

Though I’d missed Arthur’s funeral, I’d made it to Barnes’. He’d been in the Army before joining the force, and they gave him a standard military funeral, gun salute and everything. I stood off to the side, under the heavy branches of a tree and listened to the old priest read from the Bible: “…Ashes to ashes, and dust to dust,” while the cold Seattle rain fell heavy in mourning.

After they lowered the coffin, Chuck found his way out of the sea of umbrellas and headed my way. Behind him, I could see Stone, eyes boring holes into me.

“Don’t worry about her,” he said. “It took some convincing, but she’s dropping all charges against you. Anderson and I both vouched for you.”

“She’s still mad,” I said.

“She’s a girl, man. Give her some time.”

“What did you tell her happened?”

“You mean about the dragon and all that?”

I nodded.

“Enraged psycho bums, man. She saw them with her own eyes, it wasn’t hard for her to believe it.” He laughed a little to himself, more nerves than humor. “Now the fun part begins.”

“What does that mean?”

“All those bodies. The homeless people. Recovering and identifying the bodies.”

“What’s left of them.”

“Right. Probably most of them were lost in the fire, but still…the ones that are left. They were people. Once, at least. They deserve a burial.”

There was room enough under the tree for both of us, and he joined me under there, folded his umbrella and shook against the cold, autumn air.

“Thank you,” he said.

“You don’t have to thank me, mate.”

“Are you kidding? You saved my life. Anderson, too.”

For a few silent moments, we both stared after the umbrellas that slowly lulled their way across the damp field of tombstones to the great serpent of cars in the funeral procession.

“Wanna grab a bite?” he asked. “On me. I think I at least owe you a dinner.”

“I can do that,” I said. “I’ll follow you.”

I got in the car and drove a short ways down the coast of the Sound just outside the city to a restaurant that wasn’t much to look at, just a little elevated shack in the marshlands surrounded by fishing boats, but the food was incredible and the beers were cold.

I got lobster.

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EPILOGUE

For a couple weeks after, I stopped getting hate mail and started receiving thank you cards and phone messages expressing gratitude and relief and blah blah blah, not only from the Wright and Gables parents but from parents I hadn’t even met whose children had gone missing and their bodies recovered in that warehouse. That was fucking weird.

Apparently, Chuck and Anderson gave me some credit in their reports. I didn’t know about it before hand, but the press kept calling my office for a few days. I kept forgetting to return their phone calls, but word got out anyway. For a solid two months, I had more work than I could turn down. I did a few consulting jobs for Anderson and the local boys. The pay was good, and the cases were more interesting than the shit in the private sector. Luckily, there weren’t any more abductions.

I knew there wouldn’t be, not as far as Brom was concerned. From what I’d been told, the Bogey ran off. I didn’t know where he went and couldn’t fucking care less. I took his source of power. I cut off his supply lines. He’d scrounge around in back alleys and dig for scraps to feed on. No doubt, he’d end up outside the viewing rooms of some porn shop while lonely truck drivers wanked off. To feed on their lust. Maybe he’d find a seedy hotel somewhere, a quiet place where desperate businessmen took their mistresses and hookers turned tricks for drug money. One thing was for sure, he wouldn’t starve, not in a big city, and there were plenty of them to choose from.

Brom didn’t know the shit he was getting into coming to my city. We fucked him over hard and long and left him sore and wet.

I thought about him often, the game he played for so long before I even knew he was there. I kept the ring safe, knew if he dared come back, he’d come for that. It was his Precious, after all. His love. His power. And he was nothing without it. I didn’t want to think about him, but spent so much time in his old dressing room that it was difficult not to.

Everything he’d collected was consumed in the fire, and aside from the black-ash walls and piles of cinders, the only thing that remained in the room was my well. Anna’s well.

I started taking books with me into the Underground, sat on the rim of her well and read to her from the glow that nearly filled the room every time the pool of water came to life. It was just like when she was sick, except this time it wasn’t her that needed to not ask questions, to not wonder about why God let her die. Of course, I knew why He let her. It’s one of the reasons I hated him so much.

So I read to her to distract myself. Stories, poems, it didn’t matter. In life, she loved them all. But there was one that I read the most to her, and it began like this: “All children, except one, grow up. They soon know that they will grow up, and the way Wendy knew was this…”

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Swyftt’s adventure continues in book 2 of the
Midnight Defenders:

THE STARS NEVER RISE

AVAILABLE FALL 2013

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Joey Ruff lives in Franklin, Tennessee with his wife and two children. This is his first novel.

For questions, comments, and feedback, please write the author at: [email protected]