A Nameless Dark

Chapter 5

"It was you, wasn't it."

The voice from beneath the hood was smooth and natural. A man's voice. The skeletal finger continued to point, and a quiet chuckle followed its path straight to me.

"You're the one who did the dirty-deed. I can smell the death on you, kid." The figure in the hood took slow steps forward as he spoke. "It's mouth-watering. Like a neighbor throwing a barbecue. I followed it right to your backyard."

Shock numbed my mind and clouded out the meaning behind the hooded man's words. I sprawled on the floor, unable to think of a response, unclear of what this creature was saying or why he said it to me. The one conclusion I was able to draw was that this person was not the Morrighan.

Aaron was not as slow to recover his senses. As he climbed to his feet, the air shimmered in front of me. I became aware of a pulsing power emanating from Aaron and realized he hadn't just been sitting immobile in his chair as I thought. Instead, he had created a wall of power between our room and the next, shielding us from our attackers. He must have put it up the moment the motel room wall imploded, never flinching or cowering, but reacting instantly to the danger. I examined the wavering air in front of me with fingers of my own power. I'd never seen such an intricate expression of Light. Each time I'd used my own power to affect the physical world, it came out in a huge wave of energy. Like a belly-flop into a pool of water. This shield of Aaron's was a swan dive: beautiful, precise, and complicated. Yet he'd accomplished it in a split second, and with no apparent effort. It seemed that Aaron was right; there were a few things our father had neglected to teach us. I was beginning to wonder how much of what he did tell us was true.

"That's enough, Wiley." Aaron stood easy, hands at his sides and head high, as though he was in his element among the violence and danger.

The hooded man stopped, and the twin red flames that were his eyes began to fade as he raised his bony hands to the hood of his dark cloak. He lowered the hood revealing a gaunt face beneath a smooth, hairless head. He looked like a caricature of the grim reaper with his sunken, red-rimmed eyes buried inside the bone-white peaks of his skeletal face. An ugly crater of a smile displayed surprisingly straight teeth, like a bleached skull grinning from an open grave.

"Aaron Acheson." Wiley stretched out my uncle's name with that eerily natural voice. "It's been a long time. How the hell are you?"

"Better before you broke my motel room," Aaron responded. "I see you still have a flair for the dramatic."

"And you still like to spend your time hiding inside a bottle. I can smell the booze on you from here."

"Cut the garbage, Wiley," Aaron snapped with iron in his voice. "We both know why you're here. Who sent you for me?"

"Oh, I didn't need to be sent on this hunt. It's open season on the Achesons. There's a whole host of nasty-nasties looking for you. It presents an interesting scenario for an opportunist such as myself."

I recovered from my shock and climbed to my feet as they bantered. Samuel walked over and took his place next to Aaron. I followed him, standing a step behind my big brother, drawing strength from his firm presence. To our left, Lara maintained her place, perched upon the motel bed.

"Who is this creepy-looking joker?" Samuel eyed the spectral man with derision.

"This is Wiley." Aaron's eyes never left the intruder. "He's an old — acquaintance."

Wiley smiled at Aaron's use of the term.

"That's right. And I'm looking forward to getting re-acquainted before I sell you to the highest bidder." His eyes narrowed, their wicked red glow returning to wreath them in flame. "I think we both know who that will be."