Thinning the Herd (14 page)

19

BEYOND THE FIRELIGHT

Galahad jumped to his feet, arched his back, and hissed. Nick leapt up from his scarecrow nest, growling. Louis whirled and crouched, coiled muscles ready to unwind. The scarecrow stopped drumming his fingers long enough to push ineffectually at one of Nick's paws.

The thing that held Desdemona said, “One more move and she dies.”

Desdemona's gasps for air became strained, more desperate.

“We need her!” Alan cried. He kept his gaze fixed on the ground, refused to look at the shadow. “She's our virgin.”

Selene
rowr
ed in agreement.

“Is she, now?” the shadow said, then added with a casual twist of malice, “I thought that was Eddie's role.”

Wriggling free of Desdemona's loosening hold, Eddie glanced back at the shadow, face indignant. “Hey, I ain't no virgin. During the Warped Tour I . . . uh . . .” His words trailed off as he got a good look at what held Desdemona. He closed his mouth. Swallowed hard. Turning around, he walked to the other side of the fire, sweat beading his color-drained face. He plopped down on the log beside Alan, just as his rubbery legs gave way.

Galahad lowered his back, swished his tail. He knew what held Desdemona. “Mew.”

Nick glanced at him, yellow gaze lit from within, burning. Silent. No
whoo
ing necessary; Galahad knew what thoughts roamed his mind.

The creature before them stank of dank cisterns and abandoned sewers, of mold and wet leaves and decay. It wasn't so much a shadow as an
absence
, a walking void. One that stuffed itself full of nightmares and childhood terror, gorged on self-doubt and guilt and regret.

The original Boogeyman.

Sometimes it wore a mask. Sometimes it wore a jack-o'-lantern for a head, unholy, flickering light radiating out from carved eyes and mouth. Sometimes it wore
you
. Like a costume. And left you forever empty afterward, like a skinned hide.

But it only had power at night.

And only against humans and lycans.

Y
ō
kai
lacked self-doubt or guilt or regret. Most—felines especially—tended to yawn in the Boogeyman's face. And canines? Well, one tossed squirrel squeaka and they forgot all about the Boogeyman.

But for someone like Desdemona . . .

The shadow stepped closer to the spark-snapping fire, its
shadowed
muscles tight against Desdemona's pale throat. She clutched at the arm, clawed at it with nails painted as black as the thing that held her.

“Bad luck cat,” the shadow murmured. “Aren't you, Louis? Bad luck for this little girl, anyway. Submit to Selene, boy.”

Desdemona's eyes rolled up white. Her fingers slipped from the arm around her throat. Louis lay down in the dirt, claws flexing in and out of his paws. He flattened his ears—and submitted.

Selene padded around the fire and bent her head over Louis's prone form. Opening her mouth, she touched her fangs to the back of his neck. She growled. Louis tensed, every muscle straining beneath his black hide. But he didn't move. Didn't make a sound.

The Boogeyman chuckled, a dried seedpod rattle. “You hope to awaken the Old Ones, Selene? When you can't even hold on to one little girl, a couple of cats, and a dog?”

Nick snarled at the insult. His fur ruffed up along his spine and neck. Galahad rubbed up against his left front leg. Breathed in his earthy wolf scent.

“Mew.”

Nick nudged him with a moist nose. Panted.

Selene straightened, then sat beside Louis's still prone form. Her disdainful gaze skipped from Alan to Eddie, but not—Galahad noticed—to the Boogeyman. “Yowr.”

Good help is hard to find
.

The Boogeyman laughed.

The sound burrowed in under Galahad's fur, crawled under his skin. He wished the Boogeyman possessed button eyes to paw loose. A straw-scented tongue licked his face and his irritation faded. Faded but didn't leave. He looked up into Nick's eyes. Rubbed against him again.

“Keep her under control,” the Boogeyman said, handing Desdemona's limp form to Alan. “Or I'll end her and we'll use Eddie instead.”

Eddie remained hunched on the log, knees hugged to his chest. Silent.

As the Boogeyman stepped away from the firelight, once more merging into the darkness, a shadow within shadows, Alan laid Desdemona on the ground and secured another set of flex-ties around her ankles. Springing to his feet, Louis trotted over to Desdemona's unmoving form. He growled at Alan, who paused, his wary gaze on the lycan.

“Mmmmft mmm mmmffftt.”

Galahad glanced at the scarecrow under Nick's paws. The scarecrow's one remaining button eye fixed on Galahad. Or, at least, he
thought
it did. Hard to tell with buttons.

“Mew,” Galahad said, curious.

Nick lifted his paw from the scarecrow's mouth.

“What a wuss, y' know?” the scarecrow said. “Louis. I would've said do your worst, Boogeyman. Then plotted revenge. Gruesome revenge. And speaking of revenge, you can avoid a gruesome end yourself by getting this big, stinky-breathed oaf off me. Maybe I'll forget that you plucked off my eye. Maybe I'll forget that you—”

“Mew.” Galahad yawned.

Tongue lolling, Nick planted his paw over the scarecrow's mouth again.

Galahad shifted his attention to Selene. “Mew.”

The fire in the pit crackled and snapped. Pine-scented smoke rose into the air, masking the Boogeyman's fetid aroma. Selene swiped her tongue-dampened paw across her tawny head, then yawned, her tongue curling.

“Rowr.”
Keep the damned scarecrow. For now
.

Galahad blinked at Selene in acknowledgment. Negotiations would resume once both parties were no longer bored with the process.

“Mmmmft!”

Rising to her paws in a fluid muscle-rippling motion, the cougar padded across the campsite to where Louis sat beside Desdemona.

“Brrraaal,” she commanded, her gaze on Galahad.

Galahad ignored her, his tail twitching back and forth across the night-dewed grass as he pondered their situation. WWHD? What would Hal do? And the answer was simple: Kick ass. Take names. Save Desdemona.

Before the Boogeyman had shown up, that might've been possible. But Galahad held no doubt that the nightmare creature wouldn't hesitate to harm or kill Desdemona if he or Nick or Louis refused to cooperate or tried to slip away to await the dawn. With the sunrise, the Boogeyman would melt away like all shadows, no longer a threat until night fell once again.

But daylight was many long hours away. Galahad's tail switched faster.

“WhooooOOOooo.”
We might as well get comfy. I think we're stuck. For now
.

Galahad shifted his attention to Nick. “Mew,” he agreed.

Straw crunching beneath his paws, Nick circled five times on the scarecrow, nose following tail, then dropped down and curled up. He closed his eyes, curled his tail over his nose.

“Ooooffff!” the scarecrow wheezed.

“Brrrawwl,” Selene groused, repeating her summons.

Galahad met her gaze. Yawned. Stretched. Licked the ruff of fur under his chin for a moment; then—as though he'd decided
just
that instant to go for a stroll—he weaved through the grass to the cougar's side of the fire.

“Mew.”
What is this ritual thing you're planning, anyway?

Selene ignored his question, attempting instead to reassure him with a few well-chosen
mrawl
s: if they behaved, played their roles in the spell Selene would craft the next day, they'd be released afterward.

“Mew.”

Selene shook her head. The virgin sacrifice wasn't required to die, she explained. Only a little blood, untouched and pure, needed to be spilled for the spell.

Galahad doubted that. Did Selene think she was speaking to a naïve kitten?

“Mew.”
What spell?
What Old Ones?

“Yowr.”
Nothing dangerous. Nothing to worry about. Just behave and all will be fine
.

Realizing Selene wasn't going to be any more forthcoming, Galahad pretended to believe her reassuring words. Mewed his acceptance of her terms.

“Louis,” a soft, slightly shaky voice said. “You're okay.”

Galahad looked past Selene to see Louis rub his head against Desdemona's pale face. A low rumbling purr filled the air. She wormed her way into a sitting position, her skirt rucking up in a most fetching manner as she wriggled.

Galahad trotted over to her side. “Is that you, Galahad?” she asked. He bunted his head against her knee.

Desdemona glanced from Louis to Galahad, then bit her lower lip. “I screwed up and now you're all here because of me, huh? Dammit.” Her gaze skipped around the campsite, from Nick curled up on the scarecrow to the two one-shapes perched on the log. Eddie still hugged his knees to his chest. “Who grabbed me, anyway?”

“Mrrrawl,” Louis said.

“Boogeyman?” Desdemona shook her head. “So he's real too? Shit. Where's the cree—
Hal
—I mean, Hal?”

Galahad shook his head. Good question—and its potential answer worried him.

“Hal?” Alan questioned. “You mean the guy out cold in the tunnel?” At Desdemona's nod, he added, “We left him there.”

“You left Creep . . .
Hal
 . . . in the dirt? Bleeding?” Desdemona asked, one eyebrow arched. “While you bludgeoned the rest of us and stuffed us into recycle bins? What humanitarians.”

Selene leapt to her paws. Yowrr?
Hal?

Galahad answered, “Mew.”
Rupert. Hal Rupert
.

In a whirling flash of tawny fur and white fangs, Selene head-butted Alan off the log. He hit the ground hard, a startled
whoof
exploding from his lungs. The cougar dipped her head, a low growl rumbling from her throat, and planted a paw in the middle of Alan's chest.

“I didn't know who he was!” he exclaimed, face white. “No one said—”

Snarling, Selene bounded away from Alan. The one-shape closed his eyes. Beads of sweat glistened on his forehead. The were-cougar paced, tail twitching, her baleful gaze sliding from Galahad to Louis and back.

“Mrrawl.”
Why was this one-shape never mentioned?

“Mew.”
You never asked.
Galahad permitted himself a small smile, then busied himself with grooming his fur.

“You know Hal?” Desdemona asked.

“Only of him. Man's legendary,” Alan said from the ground, his voice faint. “In certain circles, that is. He keeps the peace between the shifter and human worlds. At least in Oregon. Well . . . Eugene, in particular. I suppose they
might
know of him in Portland. And he swings one mean catch pole. I didn't see a catch pole, though, so I never thought—” He shrugged.

“That's because he broke it when fighting the wolf-man thing,” Desdemona said.

“Yowr.”
You'd better hope he's dead
.

Galahad regarded Selene thoughtfully. Had she sent the assassins after Hal? Worried he'd spoil her plan?

“This is all very fascinating,” the Boogeyman said from the shadows beyond the camp fire, his tone of voice suggesting the opposite. “But I've got a better story for you. And if Selene won't tell it, I will.”

“Mrrow.”
This isn't necessary
.

“I disagree. I think they would like to know what is in store for them tomorrow.”

With a grumble of displeasure, Selene jumped to her feet and left the campsite, padded into the dark woods. Andy sat up, brushing pine needles and dirt from his coveralls, keeping his gaze away from the direction of the Boogeyman's voice. Eddie, shivering, inched closer to the fire.

“Fine,” Desdemona sighed. “Spill your evil plan.”

“Nothing evil about it,” Alan said. “We're going to restore the ancient order of things. Oregon is a place of natural beau—”

“I'm telling the story, so shut up,” the Boogeyman cut in.

Alan closed his mouth.

“It's time for a shifter nation, a hunting preserve,” the Boogeyman continued in silken, bedtime tones, “not to mention a feeding ground for myself and others of my . . . ilk. We will seal the Oregon borders with the same greasy black tallow magic that animated the scarecrow to help keep our human herd contained.”

Galahad forced himself not to tune out the Boogeyman's words. Forced himself to listen as he licked a paw and rubbed it across his face. Licked. Swiped. Licked. Preened. And listened. The idea of a shifter nation, of being able to live openly in a recognized and protected society pleased him so much, he purred—until the second part of the Boogeyman's statement sank in. A hunting preserve stocked with one-shapes. Galahad's blood turned to ice.

“Whoo.”

Galahad paused in his preening. Nick's question was a good one.
What gives you and Selene the right to make that decision for the rest of us?
For one-shapes?

The Boogeyman laughed. “Ancient magic. Natural law. Sacrifice. It's human destiny to be food for those more powerful—whether it is flesh or fear or both that are devoured.”

“Great. We're in the clutches of a Bond villain,” Desdemona muttered. She jerked her chin at Alan and Eddie. “If you plan to make humans food, why are they helping you and the cougar?”

Eddie looked at her, his expression uneasy, but it was Alan who answered. “Selene has promised us the Bite. We'll be lycans too.”

Desdemona stared at him. “But what about your family and friends? What happens to them?”

“We'll Bite them,” Eddie said earnestly. He glanced at Alan. “Right?” Alan simply shrugged.

Galahad exchanged a look with Nick. The one-shapes didn't realize that Selene had lied to them. Lycans were born, not bitten, into being. Same with
y
ō
kai
. Eddie's and Alan's fates were most likely to be eaten once they'd served their purpose.