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A Tangled Pair: Worlds Beside, #5
A Tangled Pair: Worlds Beside, #5
A Tangled Pair: Worlds Beside, #5
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A Tangled Pair: Worlds Beside, #5

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Before, Nicolas Hughes was on the run, but now he's the one giving chase. What's more, he isn't alone. He and Scarlet are hunting their way across Middle America in search of the creature that haunted the young mage for harrowing seasons, that stole his secrets and killed his friends but made the mistake of leaving him alive. There's only one problem: across everything Nick's read and everything he's studied, he has no inkling about how to destroy the monster, not to mention that finding it has also proved nigh impossible. So, the pair needs to find themselves a weapon master. As it so happens, one such individual is being tracked by his own set of troubles. It's anyone's guess as to who finds Liam first, his estranged granddaughter, Nick and Scarlet, a trio of ancient killers from beyond, or worse. The web tightens like a noose, everyone, every thing, tangled and tied. But Nick is confident everything will work out if he just keeps moving forward, so long as Scarlet is watching his back. He hopes.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherJ E Cammon
Release dateNov 7, 2021
ISBN9798201203962
A Tangled Pair: Worlds Beside, #5

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    Book preview

    A Tangled Pair - J E Cammon

    A Tangled Pair

    Worlds Beside, Volume 5

    J E Cammon

    Published by J E Cammon, 2021.

    This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

    A TANGLED PAIR

    First edition. November 7, 2021.

    Copyright © 2021 J E Cammon.

    ISBN: 979-8201203962

    Written by J E Cammon.

    Table of Contents

    Title Page

    Copyright Page

    A Tangled Pair (Worlds Beside, #5)

    Sign up for J E Cammon's Mailing List

    Also By J E Cammon

    Introduction

    As she sprinted through darkened, narrow alleyways, the laughter above her kept Scarlet aware that her target was still giving chase. The mocking shouts and snide comments told her that the vampire was right where she wanted him. Scarlet breathed heavily and focused on her form as she ran, cutting around corners where she could, trying but not trying to escape. Such was how one interrogated the living dead.

    Tell you, huh? the creature shouted down at her; Clement was his name, but in his previous life he had gone by Spencer. Scarlet and Nick had found the creature in one of the usual places, feeding the obituaries of big city newspapers. Clement and others were haunting some old, derelict building with the plywood behind the windows and rust patterns playing across all the doors, chain link fences overgrown with decomposing vines, veins of cracked cement exposing rotting weeds. During the day it was the kind of place people passed by and ignored, a dead space. Come nighttime, passers-by were dragged inside, and it became a killing floor. Give you what you want, or else, huh? Clement was not the leader of the group, but he had the biggest mouth. That was why he had been chosen. Care had to be taken because the vampire Clement followed, a female named Grace, was dangerous and none too stupid. Dealing with her had required some inspired sabotage and creative tampering of the building’s fire response system while the creatures were away. After that, after the dangerous one had been killed, and the others confused and separated, Scarlet was free to question Clement. The second phase of the interrogation was full of bravado and posturing and was now moving into the third and final act.

    Clement landed in front of her and clotheslined her neatly. Scarlet flipped through the air, falling onto the concrete. She did not have to fake the pained groan. Clement grabbed her by the front of her jacket and lifted her off the ground, into the air, then slammed Scarlet into a nearby wall. Whatever breath she had left then was gone.

    I’m going to enjoy showing your broken body to your boyfriend, Clement said, and smiled. Delusions of grandeur danced in his dead eyes. I heard all these stories about you two, the things you’ve killed. He leaned in close, slathering his tone with menace as he whispered. You think you’re going to kill me, bitch? Me? he asked. Scarlet opened her mouth as if to speak, but she was interrupted when she was kneed in the stomach, then tossed onto her back into the center of the alley. I’ll tell you when you can speak, the vampire said. I’ll let you in on something: the time is just about up for people like you. The dark sun is going to rise, and he kicked Scarlet so hard that she lifted into the air a little. The dark sun is going to rise and this world is going to change. Clement stalked over to Scarlet and crouched, a gesture that she shied away from, terror in her face. Clement grabbed a fistful of hair and brought the terrified eyes to meet his.

    The fear gave Clement pause. He had probably never felt so powerful, so intimidating. He had been killing for roughly five years. Little Spencer Huang thought he loved the woman named Grace, so he had let her warp him into something else. It was probably a bit unsettling for him to have voided his bowels and bladder. For the young man that he was, it was likely even worse to have to make the conscious choice to kill to live. Murder. Likely, he had thought that maybe, maybe if Clement were powerful and terrifying, everything Spencer wasn’t, all of it would be worth it. It’s a shame, really, pretty thing like you, and he stroked her face tenderly. Are you afraid?

    The reply was a feeble attempt at fighting that seemed just earnest enough. Clement snatched her pistol away and held it in his grip. He discarded it over a shoulder when he realized he wasn’t strong enough to bend the barrel. He slapped Scarlet around some more and openly contemplated ways to torment her, to sap more of the power he had grown to love.  

    That’s right, Clement said. You came here looking for something didn’t you, or someone. He lifted Scarlet off the ground again, inspecting a shallow head wound that was making a thin trickle down the side of her face. He licked at the cut some. Not sure what her name is, but she must be special. Worth dying over. Then, he made his voice sound a bit more pretentious. And you can go free if you tell me what you know about her. Isn’t that what you said?

    Scarlet sagged in defeat, relaxing in the confident grip.

    Hey, pay attention, Clement ordered, slapping her awake. I’ll tell you what. I’ll tell you what you want to know if you beg me, Clement said. It’s the best I can do for someone about to die. He grinned like he’d save that line for later.

    Wait, Scarlet whimpered, jutting out her bottom lip and squeezing her eyes shut.

    Wait? Did you say wait? Clement asked. He turned his head sideways.

    Scarlet went limp again for a moment, so fidgeting for the knife wouldn’t seem so obvious.

    Not yet, and Scarlet paused for effect. It isn’t time, yet. She even sniffled.

    Clement leaned back in feigned surprise. You don’t make the rules here, bitch. I do. You hear me? he asked. Hey, stay with me. Don’t you want to know where the lady you’re looking for went? I saw her, you know. A sweet piece of tail in an ugly, ugly truck. I know which way she went, too. Don’t you want to know which way she went?

    Scarlet shook her head while she inspected her teeth with her tongue, wondering if any of them had been shaken loose.

    It was west, you know. Rumor is she’s hitting all the gathering places.

    Scarlet froze, glancing up.

    Clement looked up, too, wondering what had scared her so much more than him.

    In that moment, Scarlet twisted out of the loose grip while striking. Clement retaliated a moment later, but his fists got tied up in the empty jacket Scarlet left him holding. Suddenly, the vampire was trying to kill a different person. Scarlet rolled when one of her legs was kicked on retreat and when she came to a standing position again, her posture had changed. Not just her eyes and her stance, but her face, too. Her face was emotionless, devoid of fear and doubt and apprehension.

    Clement was taken aback by the situation and was confused by the knife in Scarlet’s hand dripping liquid every now and again. Looking down, the vampire could see that he had been cut deeply several times around the groin and lower abdomen.

    What the, was all he got to say.

    The sparking pop of snapping coincided with something inside Clement exploding. Sitting up didn’t work, so he forced himself up on his hands and elbows. He gawked in disbelief at the familiar tread on the bottom of his shoes. Realization came to his mind as his gaze traversed up his legs to where his waist terminated. Clement looked down at his other half and screamed even though he wasn’t really in pain.

    Sh, Nick said to him, a soothing sound that reminded Clement of the ocean. It was relaxing, that sound, made him go still and complacent as if he really was laying on a beach somewhere, before all the darkness and blood. I know this must be confusing and upsetting, Nick said and watched Scarlet inspect her bladed weapon. Kerosene, if you’re curious.

    Following the sound of the man’s voice made Clement look into the face, at which the vampire made a tiny, frightened noise. A mask made from forbidden sigils was pulled so tight over Nick’s features it looked like they were beneath his skin. The strange mien reached out to wrap around his ears and jab down to snake about his throat.

    You probably didn’t know, but young ones like you, they burn like scarecrows, Nick said. He didn’t snap his fingers or even use his hands. Clement watched his legs ignite and smoke away like bundles of old leaves. Then he watched Scarlet’s boots step into few, the woman herself towering above him.

    I’m a woman of my word, so since you told me what I wanted to know, I won’t end you, she said, still holding the knife. Then she left, like the conversation was over, like Clement was no longer a threat. Like he was nothing. Nick stood and stepped after her.

    At the end of the alley, Scarlet stopped and turned. But this alley faces East, so in a few hours it’s going to be bad for you. And then they were gone. Clement didn’t even think about moving. He couldn’t. Plus he had no more tears to shed. For years, his desire to live, however he could, had won out over all the other feelings. That urge had never encountered despair, however, not once.

    Nick opened the door for Scarlet at the meeting place. He finished reporting that the clean-up had gone well. While she was initially distracting their target, he had dealt with the rest of the vampires. Her performance had been an integral ingredient to mask Clement from Nick’s presence. She inspected him for injuries just as she looked him over. Gentle, searching hands, long, quiet stares, and tender, diligent first aid was as far as it had ever gone. His grin was open and easy, and hers was coming quicker by the week.

    So, west, he said as he turned away from her, probably down Route 9.

    Scarlet was quiet for a moment. That’s another one of those dark back roads?

    It’s only dark because it precedes streetlights, he said. The safe house was a small, Spartan space; it was constructed to easily conceal whoever had used it last. It was located in the back quarter of a basement apartment where the front section looked to be a forgotten storage area for heavy furniture and dusty crates. It used to be a main way for this region.

    Ever the historian, she replied. She didn’t have to say that things changed, that darkness would creep up inside anywhere that wasn’t thoroughly policed and rigidly vigilant.

    You have any idea why she’d be stopping at gathering places? she asked him. They worked in tandem, each grabbing weapons and tools and putting them into pockets and pouches and their one duffel bag. They had become so practiced that they never found themselves reaching for the same item.

    No more idea than why she of all people knows where to find this Liam person, he replied. When Nick paused to get a glance at her without her knowing, he saw that she was already looking at him with a probing expression.

    What are you thinking? She could even hear the things he wasn’t saying, sometimes.

    I’ve been thinking this Liam sounds like someone I used to know back in Charm City... Someone I met twice in Charm City, and wouldn’t mind if I never saw him again. He was impossible to get a bead on, too. Nick enjoyed being able to tell her things, and her being able to tell when something was on his mind.

    The most dangerous ones are the ones that can make you come to them, Scarlet replied. He also enjoyed being able to translate her archaic phrases. Not that she wasn’t still somewhat of a mystery.

    When they came within sight of the terrible machine, parked around back, always in a hiding place, its engine started of its own volition, just like it was alive, first a slow and ominous rumble, then an anxious growl. Scarlet swung her leg up to sit behind him and he patted her hand on his thigh. They each had more to worry about than during months prior, but the other not being among those things made the dark a little less foreboding.

    Chapter 1

    The host smiled to himself when the truck pulled into the parking lot. The monstrous off-roader was out of place among the vehicles of his other guests, a thin steel shell sitting atop large, toothy tires, and fixed with a large antenna and a roof rack. Spray patterns of mud went above the vehicle’s windows. The thing was small but aggressive, bare but competent. The vehicle had an aura about it that differentiated it from the mundane, and not just because it seemed easily capable of going places typical cars could never dream of. The same went for its driver.

    She disembarked after a few moments of sitting with the engine killed, no doubt composing herself. She was wearing dark boots to match her vehicle, but where the truck was probably a darker blue when freed of the caked mud and grime, her clothes had blacks like the night sky between stars. The only color aside from her sunny-brown skin and blonde-brown hair were the blue checkers of her wool shirt and the gray of the faded fibers of her cut-off jeans. Her sleeves were rolled up to reveal a tight-fitting shirt underneath that reached down with loops for her thumbs. It might have been a body suit, the way the form-fitting darkness clung to her, from her wrists up to her neck, then all the way down into her boots. Her hair was fixed into a pony tail, and as she looked around to check her surroundings, the black strands of her bangs blew about in the evening breeze. Assuming herself safe, she walked to the front door. Her boots were like the tires of her vehicle, and the gravel of the small lot learned it. The keeper smiled to himself again as she entered.

    She moved slowly as she walked through the small foyer, and slower still on her way to the bar. She pretended to read the small postings for local musical acts and advertisements for various goods d services plastered on the walls and support posts. She chose a stool away from the other groups of people, but not so far that she was excluded from eavesdropping on the conversations. The group nearest her was made up of long-lost friends. They had little to celebrate save for finding each other again after lonely years, but they were determined to make a night of it. They told old stories and laughed old laughs. The next group, around the counter in the other direction, was there for a birthday. It was a mixed bag of family and friends but still all loved ones. The person being honored was also gracious, and shared openly in the gifts of friendship and community given. It was almost too easy.

    I think I know what kind of drink you need, he said to her, bending at the knees a little so he could see her downturned eyes. He smiled when their eyes met, and she considered being distant, but eventually turned the ends of her mouth up, too. He had to admit that she was pretty, if fashionably blind. But I hate guessing, so, and he let the statement drift. The pause was filled with the laughter of others. He didn’t take his eyes off of her.

    Just a beer, whatever’s on tap, she said, and he stepped to the task quickly. He set the mug in front of her, but he didn’t ask about her at first. She had to be coaxed, even though she was in on it, too. It was the first time in a long time that someone had come hunting for him. It made the dance new. It made it special. He came back to refill the mug, drinking in her closed posture and furtive glances. After an hour had gone by, he finally asked if she was alone. Of course, she didn’t admit to it immediately. She even made him work for it a little.

    I just can’t see someone standing up a pretty young thing like you, he said, staring at her again. This time he stayed to hear her reply.

    Oh, it’s not like that, she said. I’m looking for someone. Just haven’t found him, yet.

    He could tell she was being honest, which made him look at her with slightly newer eyes. This one was formidable. I know the feeling, he replied. Then, he leaned forward, and turned to see the other groups of people present. I’ve seen a lot of people come in through those doors alone, but even more leave that way. Sometimes it’s like people don’t care about anyone else’s misery.

    She acted like the depth of that didn’t strike her immediately. She worked it through her mind a few times, and then let the sentiment touch her. He worked on her as the ritual demanded until closing time. She never said who she was looking for, and he never came out and asked directly. It might have been a real person or a metaphor for whatever she had lost that would make her appear susceptible. Had she not been playing him, it would’ve been verses practiced over human centuries that got her to stay after closing, and to come into the back with him when all the lights were dark. Her act made him wonder for a moment how all the others before had been so trusting, so blind. There was a corner of old darkness in a long-forgotten storage room, around the side of an old, broken-down vending machine left decades previous to rot. There was just enough nowhere present to construct a doorway.

    Where are you taking me? she asked, as if she was affected by the last drink he had given her. Her disposing of it had been clever. He had a brief condolence for the others who had been so snared.

    Shh, he said, dancing along with her. I’m going to take you away from all this, but he changed things on her then. As they transitioned

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