Wayward sky souls of the.., p.1
Wayward Sky (Souls of the Road), page 1
WAYWARD SKY
SOULS OF THE ROAD -3
DEVON MONK
Wayward Sky
Copyright © 2022 by Devon Monk
ISBN: 9781939853301
Publisher: Odd House Press
Cover Art: Ravven
Interior Design: Odd House Press
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in critical articles or book reviews.
This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales, is entirely coincidental.
To my family - and all the dreamers on the road
CONTENTS
Wayward Sky
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by Devon Monk
WAYWARD SKY
Brogan and Lula Gauge have spent a lifetime traveling Route 66, hunting the monsters that attacked them and left Brogan an earthbound spirit and Lula a near-vampire. They never wanted to catch the attention of Cupid, the god of connections and destruction. They never expected the god to want to strike a deal with them, either.
Cupid’s deal brought Brogan back to life, but now they owe the god a favor. They must find the spell book of the gods. A book of magic so powerful, it could destroy the world.
The hunt for the book leads them down the Mother Road, across Kansas and Oklahoma, and straight into the sights of a seer who is not a seer, a healer who is not a healer, and a man from their past who carries a deadly secret.
But for a chance to finally have the life together they want, a life they were cheated out of years ago, Brogan and Lula will fight any monster, face any magic, and take on any foe.
Even if that foe is Death himself….
CHAPTER ONE
The only good thing about being a spirit cursed to haunt Route 66, was that at least as a spirit, I hadn’t had to worry about trying to sleep in the back of Silver, the old truck my wife, Lula had insisted on buying a couple months ago.
I hadn’t had to worry about being in a field in the middle of nowhere Kansas, with metal edges digging into my ass every time I turned over, either.
I exhaled and shifted, shoehorning myself between the wheel wells, claiming a sliver of mattress crowded with five other bodies sprawled around me.
Sure, it’d been lonely following Lula as she traveled the Mother Road for nearly a hundred years, hunting for the monsters who had attacked us, leaving her a thrawn, which was one step away from becoming a vampire, and me a tethered spirit.
But if there had been one small good—maybe infinitesimal, but still good—benefit to being a spirit, it was that I’d had a little room to move.
I rolled my foot, trying to ease the promise of a cramp in my calf.
“Okay?” Lula asked softly, as I shifted my hip yet again.
“Motels have soft beds,” I said into her hair, stretching my toes.
“You hate motels,” she replied. “They have ghosts, which you also hate.”
“True.” I couldn’t remember the last time I’d won this conversation. Every time she checked into a place for the night, she’d worry I’d have to deal with hostile souls, so she avoided motels. It was partly why she’d bought this truck. It had sleeping space for two.
Two. We hadn’t planned on picking up people along the way.
“But you like motels,” I said, giving it the old college try.
“I like the truck. I like the open sky and the stars.”
Moonlight filtered down through the oak trees around us. We’d parked the truck in a field, far enough from the road we wouldn’t be bothered.
She repositioned in my arms, pressed her back more firmly to my chest and pulled my arms closer around her. She closed her hand over mine, which rested against her stomach, and looked over her shoulder. “I like being here, in your arms.”
The look in her eyes was a story of its own. She’d missed the flesh of me, the realness of me. Nearly a hundred years without being in each other’s arms was a lot to make up for.We’d held on for this chance, for someday having each other again.
Having this again.
“Still,” I said, “it’s pretty crowded.”
She snuggled closer. “I like it fine. I’ve slept alone for enough years. This is good.”
She was not wrong.
My shoulder under her head was falling asleep, the cramp in my leg bit harder no matter how I stretched my foot, and my back hurt.
But when Lula said she wanted nothing more than to lie in my arms, there was no possibility I’d say otherwise.
Abbi—who currently looked like a stout ten-year-old girl, but who was actually the rabbit who lived in the moon—started the night sleeping beside Lula. But she’d wriggled and squirmed, tossed and huffed until she’d ended up sprawled above both our heads, stretched out and dreaming.
Abbi had been excited about the camp out. She might act like the shaggy white-haired girl she appeared to be, but she’d come down from the moon searching for her lost shadow and protector, who had been stolen by the foul Hush creatures who lived beneath the hills of Missouri. We’d found her living with a pack of werewolves who adored her.
We’d saved her shadow, Hado, and saved her, too. Then she’d surprised us by choosing to travel with Lula and me.
Said it felt right.
Said she always wanted a family.
I’d always wanted a family too, but that hope had been buried in grave dirt the day Lula and I had been attacked by monsters and cursed to follow Route 66.
Lu pressed back into me more and a bolt dug into my hip, bruising. Abbi smacked her lips and flipped onto one side, her stockinged feet flopping into my face.
I winced and let out a sigh. “You are a full-grown moon deity,” I hissed, plucking her ankle off my forehead. “Keep your big feet to yourself.”
Hado, who preferred the form of a black panther but had wisely chosen to shift into the shape of a small black cat tonight, lifted his head. His luminous gray eyes scanned for threats and stopped on me.
He stared, gaze focused on my hand on Abbi’s foot.
He did not approve of me manhandling the Moon Rabbit.
I gently pushed Abbi’s feet up off my face without looking away from Hado. Abbi snorted and flipped the other way, pulling the rest of my pillow up into her arms. Half a breath later, she snored. Loudly.
“Aces,” I grumbled as mosquitos buzzed around my ear, immune to the chemical spray Lula had drenched me in hours ago.
“She’s fine,” I loud-whispered to Hado. I slapped my cheek, the wet smear of bug guts adding to the evening’s delights. “She’s sleeping better than any of us, the little traitor.”
The feline creature blinked, and I had the distinct feeling he was laughing at me.
Swell. Just keen.
He lowered his head and curled back up against Lorde, our big fluffy black chow chow-shepherd mix who was taking up all the remaining space at our feet.
Lorde slept so peacefully, I thought maybe I oughta crawl down there with her, even though there was no room for my legs to stretch out. At least maybe Lorde and Hado wouldn’t steal my pillow.
A bug landed on my ear and bit hard.
I grunted and slapped it.
Twice.
Three for good measure.
Lu’s breathing didn’t change, but there was a sense of awareness in her silence that was unmistakable.
“Sleep,” I said, just that little bit louder, flicking crushed wings and shell off my neck. “I’m fine.”
A heel hit the top of my head, twisted, and then the rest of the foot settled there like a cap.
“For fuck of all.” I—gently—removed her foot, and then sat.
The air was humid, heavy and warm, although the hint of a breeze promised relief. But this was late summer in east Kansas. Any rest from the heat would be temporary.
Lu turned to lie on her back, her braided hair a dusky flame against her astonishingly pale skin. Those honey eyes watched me, and all the world slipped away.
“Do you want to switch sides?” She turned her hand, palm up, and as I always had, as I always would, I dropped my hand to hers.
The warmth of her skin, like heated silk against mine, was still a wonder. I’d only been back in living flesh for two months now, and the sensations of living were still new.
“No. It’s fine,” I said. “Go back to sleep. I just need to stretch my legs.”
She squeezed my hand. “I’ll go with you.”
“No,” I replied softly. “Stay with the rabble. I won’t be far.”
Frown lines appeared between her eyebrows for a fleeting moment, moonlight soft and blue across her cheeks, her lips. She squeezed my hand again. “Not far.”
“Never.” I leaned down and kissed her briefly, her mouth soft and yielding against m ine. I knew if I lingered, I’d have to tell the moon rabbit and her shadow to scram so Lu and I could enjoy some privacy.
But the kiss was quick, and when I released her hand, her fingers trailed promises against my palm.
Lorde’s ears twitched, and the dog opened her eyes, but didn’t lift her head.
“Stay, girl. Guard Lu.”
Lorde tapped her fuzzy tail against the pile of blankets she and Hado shared, but Lu huffed a soft laugh.
Lu had spent years keeping herself safe. Thanks to the attack, she was stronger than a human, and faster too. She was not a vampire, but had the same sharp hearing of one of those creatures, and had a slight aversion to long times in sunlight.
Didn’t stop me from worrying about her.
I hauled my ass up onto the edge of the truck bed, then swung my legs over the other side, trying not to grunt and groan at the stiffness in every joint and bone.
My feet were bare, the left one asleep. There was no chance I was going to stroll off into strange surroundings without my boots. I bent, fished my boots out from under the truck, leaving Lu’s boots and Abbi’s sneakers behind.
I shook out each boot—spiders and snakes were tricky jerks—then shoved my feet inside, not bothering to tie the laces.
I headed away from the truck toward the road instead of going deeper into the tree cover, the crunch of twigs and dry grasses crackling under my boots.
We’d fought monsters. Monster hunters too. I wasn’t foolish enough to think we were safe. Not while we searched for the spell book of the gods Cupid had asked us to find.
And now we had Abbi and Hado to keep safe too.
I glanced back at the truck, a blur of silver in the darkness, and realized the moon rabbit and her shadow had done more than wriggle into the scant space of our truck. They’d also found a way into my heart.
I was fond of Abbi. Fond enough, I was beginning to think of her as family. But anyone close to Lula and me were targets for those people and creatures who wanted us dead.
The breeze lifted and fell, just enough to drag goosebumps down my neck.
Monster hunters, monsters like the Hush, and gods. There were too damn many of all of them meddling in the business of the human world.
Including Cupid, who had offered us a deal. I could be flesh and blood, Lu and I could both be alive, if we would help him bring a few people together, and help him find that stolen spell book of the gods.
We’d said yes, though we’d put in our exit strategy. At any time, we could call off the deal. He had our word, but not our loyalty. Never that.
l didn’t trust gods. Didn’t trust him.
I stopped at the edge of the rutted dirt road. We weren’t too far off Route 66, but we’d pushed it a bit, wandering down a side road as far away from the old route as we dared.
Here under the open sky, it felt like I was an ocean away from any other living being.
I had lost sight of the truck, but I knew Lu was still awake, tracking the sound of my movements.
I inhaled, exhaled, and planted my hands on my hips, staring eastward, where the sky had begun to lighten.
What a life.
I didn’t think it was one we were going to continue for long. No, the right thing, the best thing, would be to tell Abbi to hop on back up to the moon and tell Hado to look after her.
Tell Cupid we were done searching for the spell book.
Working for a god would only get people I cared about killed, and I didn’t want any part of that. Our destiny, our future, only contained two things: finding the monsters who had attacked us near 100 years ago. And killing them.
The soft brush of wings above me drew my gaze, searching for the bird. It swooped down from the tree to my left, white, soft, feathers and a flash of gold eyes passing inches above my head, then off, out, down the road.
Owl, for certain. Screech owl? No, barn owl more likely.
I checked the trees for more, but when I glanced back down the road, a figure was walking my way.
She—I was almost sure it was a woman—had not been there a second ago. Yet she walked as if she had been hiking at this steady pace for hours.
I stepped back away from the road, into the darkness. There was no reason to draw attention to myself. No reason for her to know Lu and the others were just a little farther off in the field.
I could just keep backing away, let this midnight traveler travel along, but my conscience twigged. It wasn’t even dawn. She was alone. Why would she be out here alone?
Car accident? Lost? Kidnapped? Injured?
I sighed and scratched at the welts on my neck and ear. I’d see if she needed help. That’s all. Then I’d send her on her way.
Before I could move toward her, she called out.
“Hey there!” Her voice carried soft and low, like a mourning dove. She raised her hand and waved, bracelets rattling down from wrist to elbow. “I need to talk to you. You there. I see you!”
“’Course,” I muttered more to myself, and maybe to Lu, if she was listening with those sharp ears of hers. I strolled out of the brush onto the road, stuck my hands on my hips. “How can I help you?”
She was older than I’d thought. Her white hair drawn away from her round face like carded wool that bunched and puffed. Wrinkles fanned the corners of her button eyes, folding down her knobby cheeks to bracket her mouth. Her nose and chin stuck out in a way that said she’d spent a lifetime standing her ground and speaking her mind.
“Do you need help?” I repeated.
“Me?” she asked, a little out of breath. “Oh, no, dear, not me. Not me at all.” She stopped and twisted at the waist, looking at the fields on both sides of the road like she wasn’t sure where we were.
She wore practical clothes: trousers under a skirt that draped to mid-calf, and sensible hiking boots. Her coat was too large, full of bulging pockets, and she had several shirts layered beneath it.
But it was her jewelry that caught my eye. Beads, mostly, strings of them, around her neck, her arms, her ankles. Some round and soft, but other rougher shapes of wire wrapped stone, wood, shell.
All of it together gave her a sound, a song. Beads clacked like spring rain on a hollow log, wood and shell hushed like dry leaves shifting in an autumn wind. She was rivers and birdsong, the soft poetry of the world.
“Are you all right?” I asked, falling into the sound she carried around her, wanting more of it, sure there were voices, pipes and drums just on the edge of my hearing.
“I am now.” She planted her hands on her hips and nodded. “I’ve been looking for you, Brogan Gauge. You and Lula. And now I don’t have much time. I blame you for that. You couldn’t have stayed on the Route to make it easy for me?”
Chills ran down my arms and tightened the skin between my shoulder blades. She appeared human. But I was pretty sure she was not.
If not human, what kind of monster, creature, or god was she?
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I stepped backward, wanting space, wanting room between her and me. Wanting space between her and my people in the truck.
She didn’t move, didn’t lift a damn foot. She sure as hell didn’t take a step. Yet she was still right there in front of me—drawn forward as I moved backward—just as close as if I’d never moved.
“Of course you don’t know what I’m talking about. You haven’t met me yet. But when you do, you’ll understand. There are things I need, and things you need even though you won’t like it when you find out. But then, you might. You might like this, Brogan Gauge.” She sucked a tooth and tipped her head to one side, considering me.
“What are you?” I knew ghosts. I didn’t like them, but I could recognize one from half a state away. This woman, or whatever she was, was not a ghost.
Didn’t look like a god either. I had a knack for knowing when a god was around. Both Lula and I had always been good at spotting god power.
But that didn’t mean it was impossible for a god to fool us, to find a way to hide their power from our sight. There were a lot of trickster gods roaming the world.
