Deathless

Chapter 11: Jackson

I slam my palms into the fire doors. They swoosh open, smashing into the brick walls on either side. The cool night air hits my face, and I gulp it in. Let my lungs take their fill. Pushing out the thick smog of bodies and spirits and perfumes. The car park is for staff only, just a blank concrete space, enveloped in buildings. The oily puddles reflect the black sky, the faint stars hidden by the blinding lights of the city.

It was supposed to be over. I was going to show Lucius and Thomas how little that girl meant to me, a few minutes in her company, and I'd see how average she was. How like every other mortal she was. How unlike Camille she was. That's not what had happened at all.

I felt her more.

She was so much more. Her smiles were more vibrant, her laughter more musical, her words more cutting. She was smart, witty and beautiful, and so much more than a photo. More than a dead-eyed girl mourning her mother, or the ghost of a girl I knew long ago. All the reasons that had drawn me to her had turned to dust in her presence. She'd cut right through every piece of protective bullshit, left me bleeding, and I'd loved every moment.

A loud squawk drags me from my thoughts. I look up, perched on my car, on my beloved imported jet-black Chevrolet Impala was a raven. It bobs its head in my direction and then shrieks even louder. I shoot it my vilest glare.

It pecks at the onyx paintwork and I see red.

"Get the hell away from that!" I roar, my temper frayed. The bird doesn't stop, in fact, another and then another land beside it. I stop moving and glance around. The birds are only landing on my car. Anger boils in my blood. I rush forward and they peck again. Their angry beaks tap-tap-tapping on my car like they're trying to crack through the metal. I hear the ear-splitting sound of scraping metal and I clench my teeth.

"What are you doing!?"

I rush forward, waving my arms about like a madman. They shriek and fly into the air, only to land calmly back on the roof of my car. They peck again, this time even more frenzied, violently. Two more descend from the sky, appearing out of the black to join the other three. The noise is maddening, and each peck seems to dig deeper into my skull like it's their goal. I back away. The taste of car fumes and burnt rubber coats my tongue as my mouth hangs open. I run my hands over my face, over and over again, but the sight doesn't change.

"What do you want from me!" I scream, the irrationality of my words only matched by the lunacy of the scene before me. Then they stop. Fall still. The sudden silence is just as cutting as the noise. The subtle sound of the club and the city around us returns, just a reminder of normality when I'm staring into the face of crazy. And then, as slow as a sunset, they turn their heads. Their beady burning right into me. A startled groan leaves my lips, and I take a step back. I can feel a cold sweat forming on my forehead.

Icy fingers crawl up the pearls of my spine. Breathing is suddenly hard. My fists clench. Their beaks part and everything stops.

"Help... me..."

I stumble back, hitting the damp wall. My palms slap against the rough brick as I try to keep myself upright. I'm panting so hard it hurts. My ears are wrong, they have to be. I can't be hearing what I'm hearing. Even in my world, a world of reapers and Ethereals and power—animals don't talk. The Hellhounds have never burst into soliloquies, as far as I'm aware. That strangled shriek that sounded like words couldn't have been speech.

"Help... me... Jack... son."

The doors slam open, making me flinch. Thomas bounds out into the car park, Lucius close behind. The birds squawk, their wings flapping wide as they scatter. They launch into the air, leaving a cloud of dark feathers in their wake. I'm still frozen against the wall, my eyes unable to leave the sight of my car, which looks like a hellish mess of feathers and bird crap.

"What the hell was that?" Lucius asks, watching the ravens flying deeper into the midnight sky. He turns to me, his eyes narrow with concern. He moves closer and grips my shoulder.

"You're looking a little rattled, Jax. " Thomas is too busy laughing to notice the blood absent from my face and black feathers scattered across the car park. "Did the great Jackson Mort get a little shaken up by the pretty mortal?"

I realise he's talking about Millie, and for a moment I'd forgotten why I'd run out here. The memory of those soft lips, and the way my hands felt on her hips, pulls me back into a welcome reality. I groan, pulling my aching body away from the wall. Lucius still looks worried.

"Of course not. We flirted a little, and kissed. Exactly as I said, no big deal." Thomas laughs, throwing his arms up into the sky, and crossing them behind his head as he twists in the centre of the car park. Drink had turned his eyes shiny, his cheeks red.

"Yeah, it looked like it. And your sprint out here, was that just for fun, too?"

I swallow hard. Nothing about tonight was making sense. Discovering there was no connection between Camille and Millie should have been the end, but the opposite was true. I wanted her even more. And talking ravens? I didn't even want to explain that, not even to myself.

Lucius moves in front of me. He puts both hands on my shoulders and grips hard. The faint musty spell of books and paper clings to his clothes despite his expensive aftershave. A librarian always smells like a librarian.

"Is that it? I heard some weird ass noises when we came out here?"

"It was nothing." I lie. He raises an eyebrow but doesn't push the point. A drunken Thomas hollers up into the sky.

"It was a bad idea, Jax," Lucius mutters gently. "Cut your losses. And don't see that girl again."

I open my mouth, prepared to lie again, but I'm too rattled to follow through. I'll convince nobody in this state, least of all myself. Nodding, Lucius pulls me into a quick hug, before slapping my back hard enough to make me yelp, then he chuckles and backs away. Thomas watches us grinning.

"Let's get back inside. It's freezing out here."

Lucius grabs the doors, and slowly we shuffle inside. I twist, glancing at my car, still bathed in the harsh street lights. I hoped they were gone, that I'd imagined the whole thing, but there they were, a collection of inky black feathers, coating my car and concrete all around.

My stomach tightens. Thomas, seeing my face, laughs.

"Cheer up mate, you owe us a drink."