“Byron Blake. I see you,” John said, his voice a wet rasp.
My spine stiffened. There was something dark about that voice, something sinister, like it came from the depths of hell itself.
I turned to look back at John, and his eyes were two black voids. His smile was awkward and overly wide, like he’d forgotten how to use his mouth. I had the distinct feeling that this wasn’t John anymore and this was suddenly bigger than a lowlife crew trying to muscle in on Damyr’s turf.
“And I see you,” I replied to Not-John.
“Good,” he chuckled like a creepy clown. “I’m coming and soon I’ll tear this world to the ground. Are you ready?”
“For what?”
Blood started to drip from John’s eyes like tears. “Annihilation.”
Well, that didn’t sound particularly friendly.
Smoke started to rise from John’s clothes and the distinct smell of barbecue filtered through the air.
“I’ll be seeing you soon,” Not-John said before the man erupted into flames. He just stood there, those pitch-black eyes staring at me through the fire. He smiled another weird smile and then slowly closed his eyes. When they blinked opened again, two brown orbs stared back at me in shock. The flames engulfed him and John released an agonising scream that pierced my eardrums.
I pulled out my gun and shot a silver bullet straight through the middle of his forehead. He collapsed to the floor in a heap, his whole body being consumed by the flames in mere seconds. That was no ordinary fire.
“Shame to see it go to waste.”
“Fucking hell,” I gasped as the creature from the other room stood next to me. Although the horns had gone and he looked more human. He was still deathly pale and bore signs of malnourishment, but he looked less monstrous.
He was also completely naked.
And covered in blood and goo.
“Enjoy your snack?” I asked.
“It was okay.” He turned to face me, the lines of his face softer now he wasn’t in his wendigo form, but his eyes had stayed the same shade of pale blue. “Human is better, though.”
“Well, I’m not on the menu and you’re going to have to try harder than that to scare me.” I shrugged my coat off and handed it to him.
He eyed it warily.
I shoved it at him. “You’re not wearing anything and you’re covered in blood. People will stare.”
He took the coat from me and stared at it. “It’s full of holes.”
“I just fought several vampires and I’m still alive despite being human. You should be grateful it’s not in shreds.”
He cocked a pale eyebrow. “Do you want a round of applause?”
“Can we keep him?” Bishop chuckled over the comms.
“No,” I replied flatly before turning on my heel and walking away. I wanted to leave this shitshow behind and find Wilder. Nothing had gone as planned. I had a nasty scratch on my shoulder, a bruised kidney, a fucking wendigo in tow and no one to torture.
On the way out I grabbed my little satchel of potions and my silver knife I’d left in 90s Icon. Guess he had more stomach than I thought.
I stepped back into the street and there was a light dusting of snow on the ground. I wondered if Wilder liked the snow. He’d look pretty with all the snowflakes clinging to his lashes.
Bishop strolled across the street towards me and the wendigo, and I thrust the laptops at him. “Can you get anything off these?”
“I’ll try when we get back to the mansion. I should have enough time to set and algorithm running in the backgroundwhile we’re at Benji’s party,” he said as he shoved them into the duffel bag.
“Jeez, there are two of you?” the wendigo asked with a groan. “What god do I have to thank for that?”