Lightbringer

CHAPTER FOUR

Due to Lily’s injuries, getting back to Elle’s was harder than usual, but Piotr was unwilling to walk away from their encounter without spreading word of the monstrous Lightbringer to the other Riders. The Lost were asleep when they arrived, huddled together under sleeping bags and stretched out atop beanbags. Specs, finger tucked most of the way through a Lord of the Rings omnibus, stirred when Piotr took off his glasses, but did not wake.

“You birds are all wet,” Elle said as Piotr rejoined the ladies downstairs. “You’re telling me some mook with a light show bumped off two Walkers with no problems whatsoever?” Agitated, she ran hands through her hair, mussing her fingerpicked curls every which way. “That’s crazy!”

“It happened,” Piotr said doggedly. “We would not lie to you, Elle.”

“Yeah-yeah, I know you wouldn’t beat your gums ’bout nothin’ strong enough to take a pair of Walkers for a ride.” Elle sighed. “Talk about your urban legends coming to life, though. I always reckoned that the stories of a ghost-killer were just a bunch of bull.”

“The whispers among us sometimes tell tales true as well as false,” Lily agreed, settling to the ground and carefully crossing her legs under her. Dora had been awake when they’d arrived; thanks to her, Lily’s wounds were healed, but she would need Elle to help scavenge new clothing for her, or Lily would need to generate enough spare essence to repair her own. “It was some sort of creature.” Fastidiously, Lily picked at the mud dried on a braid, scraping the dirt off and dropping it to the floor.

“Before it started shredding Walkers like paper, Lily called it the Lightbringer,” Piotr said, moving carefully so the last stairs wouldn’t creak under his weight and possibly wake the assembled Lost upstairs. “It’s an apt name.”

“Stop mixing your mud in with my dust,” Elle grumbled to Lily, striding over to a nearby cabinet and retrieving a paper sack. She dropped it in Lily’s lap then paused by a nearby window. Scowling, she peered outside. “Pick up the muck and chuck it. This joint ain’t James’ pigsty.”

“He must be told,” said Piotr, flopping to the ground beside Lily. Pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes, he groaned. “James and the rest of them. But I’ll be damned if I’m going all the way to Half Moon Bay just to spread the word.”

“Pipe down, flyboy.” Turning away from the window, Elle leaned against the wall and tipped her head back. “It sounds like maybe we might have a situation on our hands. I’ll send a runner out to James’ at dawn.” She paused. “Though I still ain’t clear on why dusting two Walkers ain’t cause to crack out the butts ’n beers.” Elle pressed her fingers to her lips and sighed. “What I wouldn’t give for a ciggy right now.”

“Poison to the mind and body,” Lily stated. “A brave needs not—”

Elle pushed off from the wall, hands fisted. “Oh yeah, Pocahontas? You wanna talk about poisonin’ a good thing, then?”

“Hey, hey!” Piotr moved to stand between them, holding his arms out, fingers spread. “Ladies, ladies, relax. This isn’t the time for us to be bickering.”

Disgusted, Elle slapped his hand away. “Shoulda known you’d take her side, you piker.” Scowling, she stormed over to the window again and planted hands on either side of the frame, glaring out into the murky fog.

“Elle—”

“These debates do nothing for us.” Within moments Lily was on her feet and at the door. Hand on the knob, she surveyed the cluttered room imperiously. “My chance to retrieve Dunn is gone now, thanks to the Lightbringer. It ate the ones who took my Lost, leaving me no beast to track. If you will give me no succor, Elle, then I’ll hunt blind.”

Elle sagged against the window at the mention of the missing child. Piotr felt for her, he really did. Things were tangled between the three of them, words left unspoken for years now, and if this crisis didn’t involve the Lost, she might not have even let them through the door. Elle might hate Piotr, but she outright loathed Lily.

“No, keep looking,” Elle finally said, words pitched low and slow. “I’ll send out scouts during daylight hours and keep a watch myself at night.” She straightened and squared her shoulders, settling hands on her hips and raising her chin defiantly. “But when this thing is over we’ve got a conversation coming, you understand me, Pocahontas?”

Gravely, Lily nodded. “Understood…bitch.”

Surprisingly, Elle threw back her head and laughed. Casually she pushed away from the wall and strolled to Piotr’s side, dropping gracelessly to the floor beside him. “Yeah, yeah, fine. So, Petey, gimme the skivvy on this Lightbringer’s mug so my boys can keep an eye peeled.”

“Tentacles,” Piotr replied, turning his eyes to the ceiling when Elle’s skirt rode high on her hips. A soft rustle of fabric indicated Lily’s return to the floor on his other side. “Tentacles of light. It was still so I could not gauge the speed, but it has—oh, I don’t know what to call it. Some sort of pheromone. It makes you want to get closer to it.”

“Phera-what now?”

“Like a flower that sings to the bee with its sweet odor,” Lily explained. “Or the cat in heat that cries to every tom within range. That scent is difficult to resist.”

“But you two pills managed.”

Piotr glanced down and was glad to see that Elle had rearranged her short shift and was once again decent. “Da, but we weren’t close. The Walkers were sucked in, moths to a flame. At the end, one fought, but…the call was strong.”

“So it’s a distance thing?” Elle shrugged. “I’ve got some spare bows. Me’n Pocahontas here can go pepper that thing full of holes right now.” She smirked. “No offense, but your aim ain’t exactly ducky, flyboy. We can gather up some folks, Riders and their Lost, get ’em all here to circle the wagons so to speak. Get a patrol going, maybe, and sort out some ammunition.”

“A roster is needed,” Lily agreed, fired by Elle’s warrior intensity. “Perhaps we could arrange for a hunting party.”

“That’s a good idea. We don’t want to jump in without knowing what we’re up against,” Piotr cautioned. “This thing…I’ve never even heard of anything like this before. I’ve already left my Lost here. I should be the scout.”

Lily’s hand, cool and dry, touched his. Her eyes were dark with apology. “No offense is intended, Piotr, but you are not the most reliable of sources for such matters. I do not believe you should be the one scouting. With his connections, James may be a better choice for this.”

Offended, Piotr scowled at Lily and pulled away. “What’s that supposed to mean? You think I can’t handle myself, is that it? You think James might’ve heard something I haven’t?” The words wanted to come out in Russian but he forced himself to speak slowly and form the phrases in English. “Because I know you two are friendly now, but James wasn’t the one saving you from those Walkers, was he? And I’ll have you know, I’m better at keeping my ear to the ground than James could ever be!”

“Now ain’t the time—” Elle began, but Piotr cut her off.

“Net, I want to hear this.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Tell me. What’s James got that I don’t? How would James, Mr. Punch-It-and-It’ll-Go-Away, be a better scout than me? What? Lily? No answer? What about you, Elle? How’s James better than me, huh?”

“Pete, you’ve been balled up for longer than I’ve been dead,” Elle cried in exasperation, half-laughing, half- angry. “Loonier than a henhouse rat. I’ve known you for decades. Even way back when, you were a deuce or two shy of a full deck. A couple aces down, a couple marbles lost.” Elle groaned and rubbed a hand across her face. “Listen up, jealousy, we ain’t got time for one of your offended megrims, got it?”

Piotr clashed gazes with her, unwilling to let the suggestion that he might not be an asset to their team pass. “It’s a simple question. I simply want an answer.”

Elle slammed a fist on the floor. “Fine! You want to know the truth, Petey? Great, here’s the truth. You’re mostly right—even Pocahontas here is willing to admit that, kissy-face or not, James has himself one hell of a temper and under normal circumstances he ain’t better than you at most things. But there is one mighty exception: that old memory of yours just ain’t what it used to be, and James ain’t in the habit of forgetting things. We need a