Free Ink and Shadows by Rhys Ford Page B

of blood on his car. “Lying bastards always leave a mess. And didn’t I tell you to stay in the car?”
    “He wanted to pass along some information about a disturbance,” Mal said, jerking his head in the wraith’s direction. “And he wasn’t lying.”
    “What did you trade? They always want something.” Ari ducked around the Volvo’s squared-down front, trying to find the wraith’s location amid the confusion of frightened mortals. Another hydrant nearby burst open from the overloaded water pressure, shorn bolts shattering through the windowpane of a used book store.
    The air shimmered around its body, and the Veil thinned around its massive frame, then broke, allowing the wraith to pass into the real world. Howling, its roar shook the Mustang’s windows. Coiling its powerful body, it struck out at the guard, its solidifying talons raking open the man’s shoulder.
    “Shit twice! Damn thing is out of the Veil,” Ari growled “We need to kill it, and here I am stuck with you.”
    In the distance, sirens wailed, and blue-and-red lights bounced off buildings in the distance. The creature’s dark shape hovered over the fallen man, his body too still for Ari’s liking. Slavering at the man’s torso, the wraith sniffed carefully, nosing the mortal aside. The creature’s nose passed through the man’s flesh, and streaks of sticky black caught on the mortal’s skin. Strings of gummy pitch snapped off the wraith’s muzzle, wriggling tendrils slithering back into the man’s torso.
    “How did you know I traded something?” Mal wondered if he should attempt to pull the man free from the wraith’s attention. A large section of the hydrant’s base rocked on its edge near the man’s head, blood beginning to pool from the slashes across his throat. Mal watched as the redcap furtively shuffled from behind a nearby shrub to the dubious safety of a column, the redcap’s tongue working hungrily at his lips.
    “They don’t give anything away for free and usually give you something you can find out yourself.” Ari fixed a pointed glare at Mal. “I’m asking you again, what did you trade? Nothing from my car, right?”
    “No, he was happy with the towel I used to sop up the blood I was going to get all over your precious carpet,” Mal snapped back. “I figured you wouldn’t mind.”
    “You fucking idiot.” Ari’s fist clenched, and he told himself not to crack open Mal’s skull. Death warned him off the last time he’d struck Mal into unconsciousness. “You gave him your blood?”
    “Seemed like a good idea at the time. I wasn’t using it anymore. I was done bleeding out. Didn’t have any plans to put it back in me, being dried and all.” Mal got up onto his knees, feeling each pebble under his shins. “It wasn’t a lot of blood. How much could he have gotten from it?”
    “A dried towel can be soaked with water to bring the blood back up, and there was a lot of your blood on that rag.” Ari cursed the younger Horseman’s foolishness. “Shit, why didn’t you just stab a seraphim, pull out its wings, and give him those as well?”
    “You know, I’m getting kind of tired of you thinking I know everything.” A hedge went flying, sections of sidewalk being ripped up by the creature’s claws, the water pipes below bursting as the shadow came into contact with the cold iron. The sirens drew nearer, and the shadow fed off the chaotic emotions streaming from the frightened crowd. “Besides, how much power do I have? I’m Pestilence, remember? You’re always telling me I’m the least of the Horsemen.”
    “Quit your whining, Pest. That thing is tearing this place and those humans apart.” Ari spotted the wraith. “Come on. Guess you’re better than nothing.”
    Stepping into the main parking lot, the wraith crouched down and inhaled deeply, tracking something on the ground. The creature turned its massive head, following the scent, then with a sharp jolt, scrambled past the crowds and broke