Prey (Dark Monster Fantasy Book 1) Page 5

  Sleep finally came.

  Nightmares ensued, featuring things with black wings beating at her head while she screamed.

  Chapter 8

  Ledderik followed the tracker he’d planted on the man across the city, through dark alleys and dark crowds, to brothels – in and out of so many brothels he wondered at the man’s stamina. Finally his target returned to the arena district where Treeter’s shop was located.

  It was there he realized the man’s true problem. He’d thought the overly ambitious thief was being circumspect and was taking hours to return to his master out of wish to lose pursuers – not realizing a minute tracker was stuck to the back of his elbow.

  Then the man collapsed in the alley behind Treeter’s. He was currently yanking at his dick as if to resuscitate it after death. The extreme redness, the possibly blue discoloration of the tip of his member made Ledderik’s eyebrows rise. The man was oblivious to any observation, even though Ledderik stood only feet away. The alley was lit by a distant shop lights, but still one could see. He pursed his lips, kicked the sole of the man’s shoes.

  Nothing.

  He kept yanking at his cock, spittle hanging from his lips.

  Somewhat disgusting.

  Curiosity made Ledderik re-spool his recorded surveillance to a previous frontal shot. Then another, another. The lump in the thief’s pants was constant, even after several brothels had been visited.

  He retreated up the alley then turned on his comm and pinged Zarblu.

  The reply came quickly. “Yes?”

  Voice only, so he double-checked the ID. Definitely Zarblu.

  “I’ve chased this miscreant across the city for hours. I’ve come to the conclusion he has a persistent erection and an arousal that won’t go away.” He glanced at the thief, his lips twisting. “Any minute now he’ll pull it off.”

  “Is...this relevant?”

  “Your girl has a Gnersh sword. This one I have here in the alley tried to lift it at the bar where she’s residing. She pricked him and I think...that made his prick have this problem.”

  A grin arrived. Not much appealed to his humorous zone, but this joke seemed a zinger.

  “Ledderik, did anyone ever tell you that cyborgs should never make up jokes?”

  “No, sir, they did not.”

  “A pity. However, interesting theory. Mila has a thing for cheating.”

  “This nanite effect wouldn’t be obvious. I doubt she knows. The sword can barely have woken up yet.”

  “It’s been dormant?”

  “I think so. It wasn’t even talking.”

  “Does she know it will?”

  “Her job history says she was employed on the Gnersh planet well after this style of sword ceased being made. So perhaps not. She soon will, though. It’s blooded.”

  “Hmmm. Those rarely shut up once they talked.”

  “Yes. No good assassin would be seen dead carrying one.” His lips twitched.

  He clearly heard the sigh from Zarblu. “Another joke?”

  “Never, Sir. Never.”

  “Docking your pay a whole week.”

  “I’ll do some research on the anti-nanite for this sword when I return, sir. Signing off.”

  Ledderik chortled after the signal died. It’d been worth it.

  He’d forgotten to ask if he should eliminate the thief. Zarblu resented anyone who had lustful designs on his females. This one might do that if he was near her again. From his industrious self-abuse, he’d also do it to a goat or a narnian sludge worm, or a fungus.

  Garrote him? A shot at the base of the spine?

  While he was musing, a text came through to his retina from Zarblu. In red, which meant it was urgent.

  Ledderik. No.

  Sir?

  No killing.

  Yes, sir. I wouldn’t have.

  We both know your addiction. Remember the employment protocol I gave you.

  He was referring to the no unnecessary killing one.

  Yes.

  No further texts arrived.

  Carefully, he slipped the loop of molecular garroting wire back into the pocket of his cloak. The thief was far too filthy anyway and there was a small chance he might wank himself to death in a few hours.

  Chapter 9

  The fortress security info pushed her to use a maintenance tunnel in the south wall at midday, when the guards changed over, said it was the best method of ingress. Mila had been careful with this data and had thought it over before going to bed. Only one guard would be on duty for fifteen spocmins, and after that she’d have a clean run past most of the internal secure points. Timing was crucial.

  So much precision detail. How had it been obtained? Why had she been given it?

  And so she decided to scale the wall on the north side in the dead hour of the morning.

  This appeared to be a place that’d be lost from surveillance at certain moments.

  The nightmares hadn’t left her, and she was used to little to no sleep. Plus this way she could skip out before the rest of the room fee was due. Bonus points.

  Perhaps Ledderik was genuine, perhaps not.

  She didn’t fancy being caught by Lord Zarblu’s guards, just in case he decided to eat her on their second encounter. The old vids on stoneshifters taking their sacrifices and the accidental deaths and ingestion of some such sacrifices had made even her feel ill. And she’d seen some bad things happen during her years in space.

  In space no one can hear you throw up.

  The trek to the place under the wall was quiet. She’d chosen well. The ten-day festival celebrating the sacrifice was over for the night. Too late for the addicts or the flighty and fertile worshippers of the party-hours to be alert. Too early for normal law-abiding residents to be up. The law would be quiet too. Fewer patrols.

  She slid the pink backpack off her shoulder and found a place to hide it near the base of the wall. Weeds grew here in this dead zone between the houses and shops of the city, and the outer wall of the fortress.

  This planet had clearly never encountered someone like her. At her last place of residence she’d had to disarm a ceiling blaster and jimmy open a rear door to escape paying. Funny though, this new sense of mortality had made her leave a tip anyway. It’d made her heart feel good.

  Tiana would be appalled.

  She flexed her fingers inside the black gloves, then removed the gloves. The numbness at the tips had spread but that was a side effect that might aid her climb. The wall sloped inward. There were a few obvious handholds and crevices. However, the noise of banging in or attaching any sort of artificial hold-point or piton would bring guards.

  She tugged off her boots.

  Yet this structure had been here for hundreds of years and its ebony surface hid flaws. Though weathered by storms and lightning, it was likely few of the locals would dare consider climbing up and into this place.

  The manual had said she’d find her body transforming. This ancient parasite gifted its victims with a manual. She’d laugh if it wasn’t going to eventually take over her body. A pity she’d no longer be Mila by the end. No longer herself...

  She couldn’t tell Tiana. No matter what.

  Tears threatened to fall until she scowled them away. Her hands trembled too, and she willed that to go away as well.

  Finally, she was ready and gazed up the long slope of the fortress wall.

  Go.

  Mila searched for the first crack, high above her head, and wormed in her fingers. She concentrated, wriggled them deeper. Fragments of ancient wall cascaded past her eyes. She climbed the first feet using the tiniest of crevices.

  She climbed higher, slow but sure, picking her way, until at last she reached a small window.

  Light flooded a section of wall to the right. Slowly, it swept toward to her.

  A purple bird jumped to the window sill, tail feathers flicking from side-to-side. Its vibrant feathers were almost iridescent as the gleam flowed over its body. She froze until the light
passed. Just a passing distant light. A flyer of some sort, maybe.

  She judged the window size. The bird flitted to the top of her head and perched there, its teensy feet resting lightly, though scratching her scalp.

  The window was too tiny for her to fit through. Perhaps higher there’d be another, a bigger one. She tilted her head, and above saw a larger, dark square set into the wall. Yes.

  The wren, for it seemed like a wren from her memory of such creatures, jumped into the air and hovered. Its wings beating this close sounded like the whirr of a tiny machine.

  “Shoo.” She resumed her climb. “You’re pretty but distracting. If you make anyone notice me I will be unhappy.”

  It tweeted at her and flew away, rising into the starry sky. At her back something hustled, rustled, a mutter of voices merging and twisting into one another. Where was that coming from? Perhaps this infection she had...this evil thing that’d leeched onto her, perhaps it caused hearing changes?

  She climbed onward, upward. Now was a bad moment for diagnostics.

  The voices died away, leaving her with the random night noises, the insects, the beasts lowing below, and the occasional engine burn of a flitter taxi scoring the night sky beyond.

  No voices, not even as she slipped through the square break in the wall. If she heard those again, she’d worry.

  Everyone seemed asleep.

  Her fingers... She stared at them, trying to see the tips clearly. They should be chafed, maybe bleeding, but weren’t. Luck or something else?

  Did it matter? She lowered her hand.

  This story was high, but once she saw more of the layout she’d know precisely where to go to get to the lord’s chambers. Tiana must be near those, if not in them.

  Vigilant, she unslung the sword from her back. She should have returned and traded it to Treeter for her gun, except she hated to give him the satisfaction. It was a silent method of killing – there was that.

  “I really don’t advise invading this stoneshifter’s palace.” The sword? It could speak? Palace? What did it mean this stoneshifter?

  But, it was frickin’ talking!

  “Fuck. Ohhh fuck.” Now she knew what this was. A rare talking sword. They were antique foibles. Their programming failed inevitably with time. Fine in normal battle but a few had spoken up at just the right moment, or wrong rather, to get their owners killed.

  Quickly, she stuffed it back into the scabbard, muffling where she guessed the speaker holes would be by jamming it in as tightly as possible.

  The clatter of a passing patrol of three guards, big boot-stomping Andurians, had her ducking into the shadows. Another patrol forced her to retreat again.

  She began to worry when a third patrol went by.

  Was it time for the changeover of the guard?

  The sword might talk but she needed something in her hand. Something that could kill.

  She unsheathed it. Gave the darkness of the room a few measured swipes to get her muscles ready for action.

  “Now you’re fucked,” it whispered.

  “Shhh! How come you know current curse words?”

  “I listen. I’ve been listening to you ever since you bought me, dear owner.”

  Shit. She frowned at the gloom-obscured length of metal. How did the thing manage to sound so creepy?

  “Shut up and be prepared to stick someone. Unless you want to be scrap.”

  “Mmm-kay. Just remember. I know all your secrets.”

  “Wonderful. I lost a password the other day. Know that?”

  It went silent. Hopefully she’d made it go into a logic loop.

  Least she hadn’t masturbated with it in the room.

  Wait, it’d been there when Zarblu fucked her. Everyone saw that though. No biggie.

  Well, it had been actually. Really big. Huge in fact.

  Gods, she should stop obsessing over his cock.

  Thunder approached. Through bare feet she felt the floor shake. Her eyes stayed open and wide, as fear clutched her insides.

  Someone ripped the door off the hinges and threw it away. Someone big obstructed the opening. He ducked and entered. The floor made crunching sounds as he closed in. Spumes of dust rose from the indentations left by his feet. In the roiling dust, floating specks reflected the light washing in from the corridor.

  And little bear-cat ears. Cat...cat was less alarming. Blue-haloed outline. Humongous. Zarblu, of course.

  Mila backed away, hit wall.

  “Did I not say?” The sword muttered.

  She strangled the hilt with her fist, peered up at this monster. Next time she’d bring a ladder. She conjured a broad smile and softly said, “Hello, Zarblu.”

  He stood there, silent, imposing. A bit terrifying.

  “Ever heard of knocking?”

  “I have a key but this didn’t seem a time for keys. Why are you here?”

  “To get my sister.”

  “I like a female with a purpose and determination. You’re not afraid of me?”

  Of course she was. Her heart was thumping away at her ribs so mightily it hurt. Her throat had closed in. She just wasn’t showing her fear, much.

  “Sometimes one monster overtakes all the others.” It was true. When you were already dying, death didn’t look so bad.

  “I see.” A fold creased his forehead, below his pussy-cat ears. “Actually I don’t see but it doesn’t matter. You’re trespassing.”

  She shrugged. “You have my sister.”

  “Yes. She’s mine voluntarily. It was that or jail. You’ve come to demand her freedom?”

  She nodded vigorously.

  “There are official channels. Department of Justice. Fill in a form. It may take a month to process though.”

  The bastard knew the sacrifice was in days.

  Her brain desperately cycled through alternatives.

  Offer money? She had none.

  Kick his shins? Yes, that’d work really well.

  “I need to punish you for coming here without permission.” His voice rumbled off the walls, echoed. “Some of my friends said they’d help me with that.”

  “What?” What friends?

  “You may not like all this – some but not all. However, I’m told punishment should not be likable.”

  “Uh.” Fuck. She knew all about his punishments. “Is this legal? Can I lodge a disagreement with your Department of Justice?”

  The sword scraped on his chest.

  “No. You broke into my home. No judge would listen.” Then he reached down, plucked the sword from her hand, and put her over his shoulder.

  The move was so swift and brutal the air whooshed from her lungs, and she’d not even squeaked.

  Judges wouldn’t listen because he paid them off, no doubt, or threatened to sit on them.

  She was head down, with her chin bumping his back, her legs dangling at his front, and his hand on her ass – where she totally didn’t want it. She managed not to squirm into his hand. So very wrong to do that.

  If only it wasn’t stirring between her legs, making her think of sex. So warm...no, make that hot.

  She shook off the rising feeling.

  Friends made this sounded planned. Had he known she was coming and arranged it?

  When Ledderik joined them, following in Zarblu’s wake, she huffed out her displeasure. Betrayed by the cyborg.

  Chapter 10

  Zarblu had woken instantly when the emergency-red words lighted the insides of his eyes. He’d blinked away the millisecond of confusion and read them.

  From Ledderik and his Captain of the Guard.

  The text scrolled downward.

  While tracking a wren that escaped from your zoo, sir, we observed the female ascending the outermost wall. She’s entered the fortress. We are observing her progress and carefully slowing her by patrolling nearby without apparently spotting her. What are your orders?

  Even as he exited the bedroom, he told them to keep doing exactly that. Keep the circle around her impen
etrable and small. Apprehend her only if she was about to injure anyone, including herself, or escape. By the time he reached the part of the wall where they had her cornered, he’d rearranged himself into the sleeker form she knew from before. He sped along the last few corridors.

  She’d hear him coming, but that was unavoidable. His species wasn’t made for stealth.

  Ledderik joined him and he slowed. “Report?”

  “Don’t run, sir, you’re eroding the hallways.”

  “Hah. Stick to what I asked.”

  “Also, sir is making enough noise to alert the battle droids in the upper levels of the atmosphere.” He then rattled out who was near her and how they were armed, that she only had the sword, and that her climbing route had them baffled.

  Zarblu ignored the insolence. This cyborg had been in his service for almost a century and he was rather fond of the flesh-and-metalborn. Plus Ledderik’s addiction was ongoing and he never liked to leave a project incomplete.

  “Haven’t killed anyone lately, Led? That alley-wanker for instance?”

  They hadn’t spoken since that text exchange.

  “No, sir. I’ve been good.”

  “Hmmm.”

  They rounded the corner that led into the corridor before her position. Apparently she was now in a dead-end room.

  She didn’t appear stupid and so he was sure she’d know what was happening. This needed to be fast.

  “You’re sure it’s only the sword? No explosives, projectile weapons, energy devices?”

  “No. Nothing else on the fast-scan.”

  “Unprepared perhaps, though I suppose that means she doesn’t intend to kill anyone unless she has to. Now if it were you, I’d be contending with a bio-weapon, an assault laser, and a plethora of sharp things, at the least.”

  “Of course. One must never be bereft of weaponry. I do think she’s simply low on funds.”

  If she only had the sword...

  At the last cross-section, on sighting the room he broke into a jog, then ripped off the door and flung it aside.

  Mila was in the far corner, legs apart and well balanced, with both her sword and teeth bared. “Hello, Zarblu. Ever heard of knocking?”