Dark Series, The Color of Seven and The Color of Dusk (Books We Love Special Edition) (36 page)

Joshua
moaned as
drops of blood ran
from the corners of his brother’s lips
. He’d done this. The night he’d first trailed Abe and Eulises
down to the river bank
. His fault.
All his fault.

Paul lowered the jar, his movements more coordinated,
alm
ost as though he were a piece of rusted machinery
needing
oil.

“More?”
Half question. Half demand.

Tamara took th
e empty jar from his hands and
replaced it with another.
Paul drained
it too,
and
shook his head as though to clear it.

“Where?
What?”
His voice,
still gruff,
sounded almost normal.

“My house, son.
My root cellar.”

“I’m no
t—I shouldn’t be—it
hurt
s
, Tamara.”

“I know, son.
I know.”

“Is there any more?”

“Yes.
But not here, not right now.”

“Then—”

“You knows, boy.
You knows.”

Paul straightened and glanc
ed
down,
notic
ing
for the first time
he was shirtless.
He stared at the raised scars on his chest and ran his finger lightly over their long length.

He raised his head.
“Impossible.
” His hand moved to his neck, searching for the gaping wound
he knew should
be
on this throat.

“
Dat’s gone, son.
D
e
Blood
Drinker leave its own healing power behind.”

“But my chest—”

“
Dey was already
dere
‘fore
de
Blood
Drinker.
Cain did
dat.
You ‘member?
So
dey
heal
too, but not clean.”

Tamara moved
to
the table
standing in the
center of the room and shook out one of Paul’s shirts Sadie
brought with them.
She handed it to him.

Paul’s b
lue eyes flashed, visible in the darkness.

“I remember,” he said.
His voice
was cold as
New England in
the depths of winter. He took the
shirt and slipped his arms into the
sleeves.
Tamara moved closer and fastened the buttons for him.

“You feel him, son?
You know where he be?”

Paul shook his head.

“But you can.
You can do you try.”

Paul
withdrew
into himself.
His eyes focused on the far wall
. He
stood utterly still.

“The river bank.
He’s back at the river bank.
And
tonight I can
kill him.
Can’t I?”

Tamara
nodded.

“That thing
. It
changed me.
”

Tamara
nodded.

“For how long?”

Tamara bit her lip.

“
For how long
?”

“Forever, son.
Forever.”

Paul threw back his head and laughed.
A laugh
made of icicles
.
Joshua shivered.

Paul looked at his brother and
smiled.
“Don’t worry, little brother.
Nothing lasts forever.
But we’ll discuss that later.
Won’t we, Tamara?”

“Paul—”

“Later.
You
and I
, we’ll talk later.
But for now, there’s Cain.
I need a horse.”

Tamara shook her head.
“No, son.
You don’t.”

“Then how?” he asked.

“Close yo’ eyes, son.
Close yo’ eyes and turn ‘em inward and see whut wonders can you work now.”

He
stood
still and closed his eyes.
He
opened
them and
smiled.

“It’s that easy?”

“Is for you.”

“And afterwards?”

“Leave
dat
to us.
We be followin’ behind to pick up
de
trash.”

Paul laughed again,
more human this time
,
almost
the mirthful laugh of a child enjoying a great jest.

H
e raised his arms high.
His body waver
ed in misty lines,
one moment solid, the
n
the barest trace of fog
. Af
ter a few seconds of indecision, he was gone.

“My sweet Jesus,” whispered Sadie.
“My boy.
My poor boy.”

“Sadie, we got to move.
Bet my team
s
know
de
way to town all by
dere
lonesomes by now.”

“Tamara, he ain’t
goan
live like
dis.
When he say
you and he
goan
talk, he
goan
want—”

“Whut we wants and whu
t we gets ain’t always
de
same thing.
Now, we gots to move.
Like
I say.
Dere’s trash
goan
need picking up.”

Chapter
Thirty-Five

Cain strode the river bank
. His bare chest gleamed with oil. A
mulets of gold and necklaces of bone draped his neck and shoulders.
He paced
in growing fury. Alone.

“Cowards!” he muttered under his breath.
“’De fools!
D
e
stupid fools
dare
turn
dere
back
s
on me!”
He stopped suddenly in mid-stride.

“
W
here are you
?” he shouted, his voice echoing back into the trees.
“
W
here are you, fool
s
?
”

They would pay.
The whole town would pay.
He swayed in concentration, moving among the seven fires burning in the clearing.

“Sebben. My color be sebben.
Color be sebben
…
sebben
…
sebben…
.
”

He
kne
lt before the
skulls of his grisly sentries
, their glowing eyes powered by the demons imbuing them with sight
.
His demons.
He
’d call them forth
, yes, and all their brethren, and
send them strea
m
ing through the town
, darting
though open windows
.
Feasting till they burst.

He reached down and lifted two skulls
high
, one in each of his huge hands

“Last chance,
fools
!” he shouted.
“
W
here are you
?”

“
Here I am
.
”
And almost instantly, from the opposite side of the clearing,
the words repeated.
“
And here
.
And here
.
”
Shifting,
ever-moving.
“
H
ere
…
and here
…
and here.
”
The voice, human, held silvery overtones of inhumanity

Cain twirled around
in circles, following the voice.
A voice he recognized. Except he didn’t.
Because it was impossible
.
Wasn’t it?

“
White man!
”
he shouted.
“
Dat you?”

“
And here
…
and here
…
and here
…
here
…
here…
.
”

Cain swirled in a dizzying circle as the voice cat
-
call
ed
, moving, floating,
seemingly coming
from all directions at once.

“
Come out!
Show yo’self! Like
a man!
”

The taunting
ceased, replaced b
y laughter floating in the air f
rom everywhere at once.
T
he laughter stopped.
E
choes bounced back
from
river
.

A
tall figure materialized directly in front of Cain
. It
smil
ed
a
terrible
smile
and curled
its lips
. Four
incisors, honed to
razor
sharpness
, gleamed in the mingled moonlight and fireglow.

“I’m not a man, Cain.
Not anymore.”

Paul advanced toward him
and Cain
fell back
, fear rising
from the lower reaches of
his
stomach
. It moved
up his spine
,
accelerated and raced upward, leaving his body almost numb.
This man was dead, executed by his demons. Dead!
But wait! If dead,
he belonged to the regions of darkness Cain ruled.
Confidence rekindled.
He
could
control
this being.
He h
alted his retreat and stood tall
.

“You ca
n’t do
nothin’
,
white man!
I
made
you!
I
control
you!
You does whu
t
I
say
s
you do!”

“You keep right on thinkin’ that.”
Paul smiled. His
arm
flashed out and
caught Cain by the throat
. His hand squeezed.
Cain’s eyes bulged under the pressure
.

Cain curled his
fists, raining blows on Paul’s
head and
face
.
But
Paul’s head did
n’t
snap back
.
His lips did
n’t
split.
He
loosened the pressure on Cain’s neck
a bit, allowing a trace of air to flow back into his windpipe.

“
W
ho
are
you
?” Cain croaked
.
“
W
hat
are you
?
”

“You d
on’t know?
”
Paul
released Cain’s throat, immediately grabbing both his arms.
He threw him across the clearing like a sack of feed.
The impact of
landing knocked the breath from
his
lungs
. He
tried to suck in
enough wind
to
stand
and fight
.

F
rom nowhere,
Paul fell on him again
, hauling his
bulk
off
the ground as though it weighed nothing
. He tossed him
into the middle
of the clearing.
Cain’s right
arm
landed
in the center fire. His
left arm
twisted and bent
beneath his great weight
with a snapping sound.
Cain screamed.
He jerked
away from the flames, trying to
shift his body
, h
is ri
ght arm
a running river of agony
. Fire
fed on flesh.