“Ready?”
A root slipped out of the ground, curving to hover above my broom. A viscous drop of resin formed on its tip, swelling to the size of a large grapefruit.
I set the broom on the hardened block of resin and pushed. The blue core sank into the sap, burning its way down. I let it work. There was no hurry. Coils of fragrant smoke curled from the drill site.
Quarter of the way in.
Half.
Three-quarters.
We only needed a trace of its body, just enough to run the basic analysis and scans.
Almost there.
The broom sank through the resin and met the hard resistance of the plastic. I pushed gently.
The plastic shell melted.
The black shadow I’d sensed surged up, toward the broom, covering the few inches of space between the body and the upper wall of the plastic in a blink. Foul magic clamped my broom and spiraled up. Fetid, cold, and terrifying power streamed through the broom, trying to get out.
I grasped my broom with both hands and fought back, sending my magic through it.
The shadow curved, winding around the glowing tip of the broom. It had no face, it had no substance, but there it was, right there, fighting me. It wanted out. I felt its furious hunger. It wanted to devour me and Gertrude Hunt and everything within.
I poured my power into the broom. No. Not happening.
The shadow held on for a torturous moment… and broke. I stabbed the broom into the body. A mental shriek cut across my mind like metal screeching against metal. I pierced the shadow again. It screeched and wailed, lashing in my mind.
Not in my inn. Not while I’m watching.
I stabbed and stabbed, until finally it sank deep into the body and hid there.
I dimmed the broom and slid it into the body, sliced off a small sample of the flesh, and pulled it free, depositing the sample into the plastic container and snapping the lid shut. The moment the broom came free, the inn dripped resin into the opening, sealing the shadow inside. Green and red lights flashed as the inn scanned the sample.
I waited, watching the corpse, waiting for any sign of the shadow returning.
A chime announced the DNA scan completing. Too fast. Sequencing an alien creature should’ve taken much longer. I turned to the screen to see the results.
Ice shot through me, from the top of my head all the way to my toes.
“We’re going to need another anchor tube.”
Ten minutes later Maud walked into the lab. “Here you are.”
She dropped into the chair, crossing her long legs. “Helen said she heard a weird scream, so I searched the grounds, and found nothing.”
“What did it sound like?”
“She said it sounded like a night shrieker. It’s an ugly bird. Well, more reptile than bird really. Sounds like nails on a chalkboard.”
Or metal on metal.
She nodded toward the corpse encased in plastic, sealed in resin, then encased in a larger plastic tube and sealed again. The inn was still pouring sap on it.
“Don’t you think you’re going overboard?”
I punctured the lid of the sample container and poured viscous purple liquid into it.
“Is that carnyte?”
“Yes.”
I waved my hand. The wall in front of me flowed open, revealing a desolate landscape. I tossed the sample jar into it. The inn’s wall reformed, turning transparent. The jar fell and burst into smokeless crimson fire. Carnyte was one of the worst things ever invented in the galaxy. It burned through just about everything, ripping molecules apart.
“Okay,” Maud said, stretching the word out. “Mind sharing?”
The crimson fire was still burning.
“I sequenced the DNA.”
“That was fast.”
“There was a match in the database.”
Maud stared at me. “Are you telling me that thing is… was human?”
I pointed to the corpse. “It’s Michael.”
She frowned. “Michael…?”
“Michael Braswell.”
She drew in a sharp breath.
I waved at the screen. A picture of an innkeeper filled it, a man in his thirties, honest face, light brown hair, blue eyes.
We turned to look at the crimson fire at the same time. It was easier to watch it burn than to face that I had killed the abomination who used to be my brother’s best friend.
CHAPTER 9
“How is this possible?” Maud paced by the body.
“I don’t know.”
It was too disturbing. I didn’t want to think about it. I would have to, but I didn’t want to. When I was twelve years old, I decided to attend middle school. I lasted one week. I desperately wanted to be accepted, but instead of making friends, I ended up being the odd kid. Middle school fights were vicious. Everyone there was a ball of insecurity and hormones, which I realized much later, and they were ready to pounce on any target that stood out from the pack. My family loved me so much. I was a sheltered kid. I couldn’t even imagine that anyone could be so mean.
When I called to the house on the last Friday of my glorious middle school experience, crying and picking mashed potatoes out of my hair, my parents were out. Klaus was minding the inn and couldn’t leave. It was Michael who came to pick me up in his massive pickup truck. He’d been planning to visit Klaus for the weekend, but instead he drove with me three hours to his parents’ inn where I got to take a shower, have dinner with his family, and pretend that the Friday never happened, because I couldn’t face my family yet. It was Michael who brought me back home the next morning and told me it would be okay.