Blackthorne (The Brotherhood of the Gate Book 1) (3 page)

“I’m not crazy. There’s nothing wrong with me,” Rhi whispered softly. She wrapped her arms around herself to rock back and forth in the floor. She half-expected her grandmother to come out of the bedroom and explode about her ridiculous nightmares waking her up. But Geraldine Brennan was dead and gone and no one would get the chance to tell her that she was crazy ever again.

Rhi wiped something wet from her chin and sat gaping at the red stain on her fingertips when the phone rang. She got to her feet to stumble back to the phone.

There was only one person who would call at four in the morning on New Year’s Day.

“Rhi. Are you okay?” The shrill voice hurt a bit.

“I was until the phone ringing at this hour scared the crap out of me. What are you doing up, Pam?” Rhi replied. Her voice came out as a croak.

Pam Douglas was Rhi’s self-appointed best friend and landlord. She lived with her daughter down the mountain in a second A-frame. Rhi smiled, envisioning the tall, gawky woman with frizzy blonde hair on the other end of the line. It was good to have Pam genuinely concerned about her welfare.

“You didn’t see anything when you drove home tonight?”

“No. Wait, I saw snowflakes. Yeah, thousands and thousands of snowflakes. Billions and billions…” Rhi replied as sarcastically as she could manage. A box of tissue sat nearby and she grabbed a handful to swab the blood off her chin. A quick glance at her arms and down the front of her shirt alleviated the fear that there might be hideous little bites all over her body.

She must have bitten her lip. Hard.

“Smart-aleck. Houston called to check on Katie and me. There was a murder downtown tonight. He told me to check on you and tell you to lock up good. Take that big goofy dog to bed with you. I told you to get a gun—a girl can’t have too much firepower these days.”

Rhi stared at the darkness outside the windows trying to absorb what Pam was saying. Murder? Here? Only in her dreams did bloodshed happen in Cripple Creek. She would have expected it in Tunica, Mississippi—the gambling town in which she had begun her casino career. The damp heat there just made people mean. A murder in Rhi’s new home seemed impossible. It was like a slime-covered monster had popped up in Mayberry, albeit a gambling and eccentric filled Mayberry. Yes, the town was odd with the occasional alien and Bigfoot sightings and hauntings. A week ago a frantic gambler had sworn that he had seen a dragon on one of the back roads. But other than that, Cripple Creek was a peaceful weird little town most of the time.

“A murder? Did somebody piss off a boyfriend?”

“No, sweetie, this was the real thing. Jack the Ripper would think of this guy as a role model. A girl from the Long Arm Casino was hacked to death in that employee lot on the end of Meyers. I used to work with her, her name is Marie.”

“Hacked,” Rhi repeated…tasting the word. It was high time to close the heavy drapes against the night. “I suppose they haven’t caught the guy yet.”

“Of course not. Our cops handle liquored up military retirees from Colorado Springs, bikers, and tourists. They’re probably more freaked out than we are about this. Freaky towns attract freaky people,” Pam said. She paused, probably for dramatic effect before continuing. “Houston said whoever did this took her heart with him.”

“Please tell me you mean her love and not the pulsing thing in the center of her chest.”

“Sorry. It creeped me out too. Want to come over? We’ll have a sleepover and eat lots of popcorn and make stupidly fattening cocktails.”

Rhi looked at the bolted door and then at the dog asleep on the couch. If she went to Pam’s she would probably break down and tell her friend about the nightmares. No. No one was looking at her like some kind of freak again because of those dreams.

“I think Ellie Mae will grumble if I take her back out in this weather. Anyway, I’ve got to get up early to unpack some more stuff. These last few weeks have been so busy I’ve still got moving boxes everywhere. And I keep adding to them. I’ve got to stay out of the thrift shops over in Victor.”

“I can come over to help in the morning if you like,” Pam offered. “I’m curious to see what Pottery Barn had on sale this year. And of course the junk you manage to find is fascinating.”

“The days of Pottery Barn are over for me. I hope this stuff wears well, because it’ll be a long time before I can replace it. Wal-Mart blue light specials are the only way to go for me from now on. See you in the morning about ten a.m.?”

Pam moaned.

“Southern girls get up way too early. You work in a casino and casino workers don’t function well in bright light, kinda like vampires. You should know this. Those ethics might be contagious but I’ll be there.”

“Did you have to say vampire? I’m alone over here and I’m not a badass ex-marine like you. Can you really kill someone with your pinky?” The thought of Pam in a Marine’s uniform had always intrigued Rhi. As ornery as her friend was, she couldn’t imagine Pam taking orders very well. “Tell Katie I’ll make her some pancakes and sausage.”

“Please don’t. She already thinks I’m a bad mother for not ‘Martha Stewart’ cleaning house like you. All I need is for her to see you cook. And if my daughter starts preferring you over me…I’ll have to kill you with my pinky.”

“Bye.”

She put the phone in the pocket of her shirt and sat back down in front of the television. She was going to relax, read, and never sleep again.

Wait. So what if there was a murderer on the loose? What self-respecting, axe wielding killer would tromp out this far in this weather to pop up at her house like the abominable boogieman? A yawn exploded out of Rhi’s mouth and she reconsidered the “not ever sleeping again” thought. She’d already had a doozy of a dream. Maybe it was over for the night. There was a job to keep and being sleepy on a blackjack table was never an option. She pulled the quilt over her legs and leaned the chair back to snooze position.

“Ellie, if anything bursts into the house while I’m asleep, please eat it up and don’t wake me unless there is an apparition standing directly over me. And it had better have some doughnuts with it.”

In response the bloodhound rolled over and fell off the couch with a
thud
. She got up and lumbered over to lie at her mistress’ feet.

∙
•
∙

Outside in the storm, several hundred feet away from the cabin, darkness gathered itself to form the outline of a man standing in between the two evergreens that guarded the driveway to Rhi’s house. Blackthorne wasn’t dressed for the weather. The jeans, turtleneck, calf-length leather overcoat, and driving gloves would have looked great behind the wheel of a sports car but out there it looked ridiculous. Especially since there was no car to be seen, other than the Blazer in the driveway.

He could feel her in there, her and that ridiculous dog. Of all of the animals she could have owned, how did she end up with the one that could sense his presence? A descendant of the hounds of Templars. Those guys always did get on his nerves.

When Blackthorne spotted the girl in the casino earlier, it felt like someone had hit him in the chest with a two-by-four. She had given him a little sideways glance as she dealt. She sensed his presence, although he was sure she didn’t know why she sensed him or whom she felt staring at her back as she dealt hand after hand of blackjack.

He had thrown up a shield immediately. Then Blackthorne stood there like an idiot and stared. She had no idea. He spent years trying to not see that face every time his eyes closed. He couldn’t touch another woman without wishing for green eyes and long black hair. It took all of his control not to run across the casino and snatch her up.

Now, Blackthorne reached out to touch the invisible barrier that surrounded her home. She was so close he could smell her life force. A warding held him off. His fingers glowed red against the wall of snow. He could break it with a thought.

Only one person in this town would know how to or want to ward the girl, and the realization irritated him even more. He took one more look at Rhi Brennan’s windows and turned to leave. Blackthorne stopped and stared hard at the stand of evergreens to the left of the driveway. The snowfall didn’t obscure his night vision. He warily made his way toward the darkness that gathered in the empty spaces between the trees. He came close enough to see an empty clearing and fresh tracks marked by what looked like a black stain in the snow. But he knew immediately from the smell that the color of the stain in daylight would be scarlet red. Fresh blood. He didn’t need look up to see the dozens of slotted, red eyes that appeared farther down the hill. It was not necessary to see minor demons. He could smell them easily enough, even with the wind.

“Isn’t this delicious, Blackie? She’s here.” A familiar voice hissed beside his ear. The smug superiority in the voice was still strong, even after decades of imprisonment.

Blackthorne whirled, his sword appearing in his hand. His blood was boiling. No one.

“Tricks, Manius? Not up to a good brawl tonight? Oh, I forgot. You prefer your opponents a little less…able to kill you.” He swished his sword around in the air, partly for intimidation and partly out of the hope that he might accidentally impale the little jerk.

The voice continued conversationally. “I’ve been here for weeks, don’t you know. I was getting agitated because you hadn’t arrived yet. Pearl’s also been here for weeks. I’ll bet the masters love her. The first woman to become a member of the Brotherhood—a whore. What a riot. And you’re the one who brought her into our little club. It proves to me that you have a sense of humor. You’d think Pearl would drop you a line or something. Let you know
she
was
here.”

The number of red eyes in the woods had grown exponentially as the idiot went on. Was he hoping Blackthorne didn’t notice them?

“How long has it been since we have been ‘thrown together,’ bro? Bosnia? Or was it Afghanistan? Iraq? My work is so varied and far reaching since I got back…one would think you would have been here earlier chasing after me. You must be getting old.” The source of the chatty voice changed several times during the one-sided conversation. He was probably jumping from tree to tree to keep from getting a sword stuck in a very uncomfortable place. Blackthorne spent a minute thinking about the picture that kind of “accident” would make as the voice chattered away happily from the treetops.

“You don’t have an accent anymore,” he remarked calmly. He’d be damned if he would let him know how much the visitor was aggravating him. “You sound American.”

“I’ve been binge-watching
Sex and the City
on Netflix. Do you think Sarah Jessica Parker would be my queen? By the way…love the long leather overcoat look. Have you been watching
Highlander?
You know, that is so 90s.”

“I don’t have a lot of spare time for television,” Blackthorne replied as he mentally prepared himself for a fight that was a little premature. Oh well. The little house was too close. Manius could easily break the warding on the place that kept the demons of the woods out. Why was he outside hopping around the treetops?

Sudden laughter filled the air. Blackthorne stared up at the flying shadow. Drops of blood rained down onto the snow. He knew better than to hope Manius was wounded. His brother’s voice was swollen with the power of human sacrifice. The globs of frozen blood in the snow were the evidence.

Blackthorne felt a light touch on his shoulder and whirled around to gut whoever had managed to sneak up on him. His sword met a smaller one with a clang and a spark. The woman who held the weapon grinned as she lowered her blade.

“He could always make an entrance, couldn’t he? He’s only been up and about for a couple of years and already watches too much television,” she said. Her voice was Lauren Bacall husky, tones that could bring most men to their knees—except for the ones who had been on the receiving end of her viper wit. She vanished her sword into the luxurious dark furs she was swathed in for the evening. An outfit for every occasion.

That’s my Pearl.

“He just swished by to greet you, huh? Little jerk,” she said, stepping back to allow him time to recover from the humiliating fact that Blackthorne, an honest-to-God knight, had been taken by surprise by an overdressed fashion plate half his size.

“If anyone had been interested in my opinion at the time we would not even be here, freezing our butts off because of him. Damn those old bastards for letting him live. Only men would decide something so ridiculous. On the off chance that one of the gates could be destroyed?”

Jack Blackthorne stepped closer to her and stared down into her face. Pearl raised an eyebrow, daring him to say diddly.

“You knew she was here and didn’t tell me,” he said accusingly. “These woods are filled with
his
creatures. With her here…alone.”

Pearl was his best friend. Some days, in an organization comprised of several hundred men and one woman, she was his only friend. He felt betrayed. It was Pearl’s nature to screw with men, he knew that, and usually accepted her quirks with better grace. But this was a special occasion.

“Yes, Manius does seem to have lost his inhibitions about summoning lesser demons,” Pearl replied, not bothering to acknowledge the accusation. “I hope he hasn’t gotten too brave. A dragon or a demon prince might be a bit of a pain. He didn’t have nearly enough monsters the last time, did he? But he got smarter over the years. Plucking thoughts and whispers of legend out of the air with his mind while he lay trapped under the ground. He must have been preparing for decades. While you idiots thought he would be contained, he was going to antichrist-college. I wonder how much blood he took to find out when she would be here,” she mused to herself.

“You didn’t answer me.”

She waved her leather and cashmere-gloved hand at the surrounding trees and then at the A-frame. “I didn’t think you needed to be tortured any more than you already do to yourself. I spend more time here than you ever have, even when you were supposed to be personally monitoring the gate. We knew she would return in some form…the Oracle was clear on that. When I realized who she was and that she was here I took steps. The hill is warded as strongly as I could make it, as is her house. Heck, I even warded her Blazer. Demons will not enter and Manius wants to see what she will do as much as we do. All
he
can do is hover about and make nasty comments to irritate you. Besides,” Pearl’s eyes gave off a blue incandescent light in the gloom, “she just learned how to take care of herself…she’s almost been broken in
this
life by her close-minded family and society in general. I wasn’t about to stand in the way of her gaining strength or let you interfere with her growth. She’ll need all the power she can get. Fate sent her here, Blackthorne, and we can’t interfere with that.”