“You helped my friend a year ago—you and your partner.”
“Oh? Who was that?”
“Margo. Her cat was killed by that wererat. You helped track it down and kill it.”
Ah, yes, the serial killer rat-shifter. It’d mostly been in rat form, occasionally being a man who liked to swim in the canals.
“Margo was lovely,” I responded. “I felt so bad for her and Jemima. How is she?”
“Fine. Has a new cat now—Paulette.”
“Good to hear.”
“I’m Jon. Nice to meet you, Jake.”
“Likewise. Erm, would you mind calling the police for me, please? I need a ride back to the city. In a bit of a scrape here.”
“Another case?”
“Yeah.”
That gate wasn’t opening any time soon, regardless of me being me.
“I can give you some money for the bus if you’d like.”
“No, thanks, Jon. I’d rather the comfort of a cop car.”
He chuckled at that. “I’ll call them for you.”
Jon closed the door. Couldn’t be letting the heat out, I suppose.
I didn’t mind. I understood, even if my skin was about to glaze over with a layer of ice. I hopped from foot to foot, getting the blood pumping.
Headlights cut down the road.
I moved away from Jon’s door to get a better look.
A black van.
There was a shed load of black vans in the world, but this one was the one belonging to those crazy wankers.
How they hell had they found me?
It pulled up before I could run and hide.
Ah, bollocks.
The driver door opened, and a woman holding a baseball bat got out, striding up to me. She was dressed head to toe in black leather, her black hair cropped short. It was a young Tessa—similar features, same olive skin, and green eyes.
“Well, there you are.” She had the same implacable accent too. “Thought you could run and hide? Well, we have eyes that see you very well, sinner.”
Creepy.
Behind her followed a man, walking round from the passenger side. He was the male version of her, also in black leather and holding a baseball bat.
“Let me guess,” I said, “twins?”
“Our mother and brothers are dead because of you.”
So, they were a family, then? I’d had my suspicions about Tessa and the three dead men. One set of triplets, one set of fraternal twins. What were the chances? And Tessa had some good genes in her to stay looking so young with grown up kids. The biggest triplet had looked older than her.
“Maybe they shouldn’t have gone around kidnapping people.” I wondered if Jon would pass me a weapon through the gate—even a rolling pin would do.
“We’re here to make things right,” the brother said.
“I don’t think so.”
Failing the rolling pin, I’d have to run. I didn’t fancy my chances against the baseball bats in my current state. The pain in my chest was getting worse, the cold not helping one scrap.
Why couldn’t these people just fuck off?
“You will burn, Jake Winter,” the woman said. “Burn for all of your sins, for all that you are. That corrupt body and soul will be purged from this earth, a beacon of hope for those who long to be free from all that you have afflicted on us.”
I rolled my eyes. How friggin’ boring.
Jon opened the door behind me. “Jake?”
“Go back inside,” I replied over my shoulder.
“I have called the police!” he yelled. “They’re on their way right now!”
“We only need a moment,” the woman said, followed by a cruel smirk.
She came forward as something flew over my head. It struck her between the eyes, and she tumbled backward. Blood ran down her face. Her twin rushed to help her. She was dazed, touching the stream of crimson.
“Get away from here!” Jon bellowed.
Other doors along the row of houses were opening, voices calling out. Too many eyes on my enemy. The male twin was rattled as he hauled his bleeding sister to her feet.
“This isn’t the end!” he yelled and helped her back to the van.
I believed him.
Let them bring it.
The van took off with a rev and the screeching of tires.
“Are you okay, Jake?” Jon asked.
He’d opened the gate.
“I’m fine.”
“Come inside to wait,” he said. “It’s too cold out here.”
Twenty-Two
Dean
“Mr. Visser? What are you doing here?”
“I could ask the same of you.” His features were dramatized by the glow of the flames, giving him a sinister appearance, shadows resting in the right places to emphasize the look.
He was covered in dirt, his jumper torn, and exposing his scrawny chest.
Before we could say anything else, there was movement behind me. I moved to the side as a monstrous form loomed in the dark tunnel.
“What is that?” I asked.
Mr. Visser laughed. “Hello, darling.”
It came into the chamber, a creature of red and white candy stripes. The thing looked like a praying mantis, but a nightmarish version of one done up in festive colors.
Darling?
“Welcome home,” he added.
Darling? Mrs. Visser?
Candy stripes?
I flashed back to what Mr. Visser had said about yelling at her for eating too many candy canes, as well as the abundance of them around their apartment.
No way. This wasn’t possible. Mrs. Visser … the killer was Mrs. Visser? She was this monster?
Oh, shit.
She was pod-born. A pod with a wicked sense of irony had made this creature, altered Mrs. Visser into this creature with Christmassy stripes on its body.
Its pink eyes rolled in its narrow head. A bulging translucent yellow sack was dragged behind it, bones rattling inside. Pressed up against the side of it was a human skull.
She also wore a necklace and belt of bones.
“My darling knows what she wants, the bones that are worthy to feed our children. The marrow will nourish both her and them. And we will have so many.”
Marrow to feed her and those babies—that’s why she was taking bones.
What the fuck?
The monster made a clicking sound as she moved down the slope, pausing at Mr. Visser. He stroked her pointed head, kissed her striped skin. Yellow liquid oozed out of her mouth. Was she purring? There was an odd buzzing sound mixed
