The white assassin, p.13
The White Assassin, page 13
The other man went for his gun, aiming it at Billycan as he slashed away at the gloved man’s neck. “No! You’ll shoot me! You’ve got to pull him off!”
The other man grunted, tossing the gun to the pavement. He lunged toward Billycan, trying to grab him around the middle. Billycan whipped around, lurched like a spring, and sliced the man’s face from forehead to chin. The man fell to the sidewalk, wailing in agony as blood gushed from his wounds.
“Billycan!” called Lenore. “Stop! It’s over!”
The gloved man covered his face, cowering against the brick wall. Billycan turned back to him, glaring at him, and backhanded the man’s ear with his claws, nearly detaching it. The man shrieked in pain and terror. The sound invigorated Billycan, who panted breathlessly as he wrenched his claws free and bounded to the ground.
Chest heaving and smeared with blood, he approached Lenore. “Are you all right?” he huffed.
Her face looked pained, as if the sight of him saddened her. “I’m…I’m fine. Are you all right?”
Billycan looked down at his bloodied coat and claws. He glanced over at the two men, both writhing and moaning on the ground. “I did all that—by myself?”
“Yes,” Lenore said softly. “Your instincts kicked in, but don’t worry. You’ll learn to control it. It’s just going to take some time.”
Billycan shook his head. He knew whatever had taken hold of him would only grow stronger. He could still feel it inside him. The moment he’d smelled the blood, he’d wanted more. He could already feel himself aching for it. The men’s terror sent him to a dark place… and he didn’t mind it. In fact, it felt like home. Maybe Lenore could manage her instincts, but he knew he could never control the power that had just come over him. “I can’t stay with you,” he said.
“But why not?” Lenore asked. “You must come with me. There is so much for you to learn—so much you don’t know!” She sighed. “Please don’t go. There is a whole city of rats who’ll be more than glad to take you in, to be your family. I have so much I need to tell you—happy things—good things.”
“There is something very wrong with me. I can feel it.”
“You were just protecting me, worried those men were going to harm me. It’s only natural to—”
“No,” said Billycan resolutely. “I can feel it within me. It grows as we speak. I will hurt other rats. I might hurt you.” He nodded toward the men. “You saw what I did to them. When you looked at me a few moments ago, you were frightened of me. I could tell.”
“No,” she said weakly. “I was not frightened of you. I was frightened for you, but those feelings—those strong urges—you can learn to control them. I’ll help you. I’ll stay with you day and night. Whatever those fiends in the lab gave you and the others, it made you this way. It’s not your fault! Stay with me and we’ll figure things out. I promise.”
“Thank you for freeing me from the lab.” He reached out and touched her fur. Despite the cold, it felt so warm. “If I did have a family, I’d want you to be in it.”
Billycan sped off, vanishing into the night.
“Wait!” called Lenore. “Billycan, you don’t understand!” She dropped to the ground in despair. “Please don’t leave me. Not now… I’ve waited so long. There is so much you need to know….”
Steady, thought Billycan. Steady. Don’t be too eager. Now! Billycan sprang across the rooftop and leaped onto the unsuspecting crow, breaking its neck with such fury that it lay dead in less than a second.
After cleaning the skeleton of all the meat, Billycan sat on the edge of the building’s roof and looked down at the alley. It made him think of Lenore. It had been a month or more since he had last seen her. He hoped she’d gotten back to her city unharmed. He looked down at his matted coat, filthy and spattered with blood old and new.
Something moving in the alley caught his eye. Hanging over the edge, he peered down at the scene. Two cats were fighting. Billycan had killed several housecats since his escape from the lab. Dorf had warned him about cats—how lethal they could be—but Billycan did not agree. The ones he’d come across were lumpy and lazy, easy to overpower and kill. They didn’t taste bad either.
He made his way down the fire escape. This could be interesting, he thought. He could kill them both. That would make for a bit of fun and be quite a feast. The crow had been stringy and tough. His belly ached for something meatier, fatty. As his time of freedom grew, so did his appetite. The more he ate, the hungrier he felt.
Jumping from the last rung of the fire escape, he silently hit the asphalt, sizing up the two cats. The orange tabby had cornered the other one. The tabby looked feral and frenzied, riddled with sores and emaciated. It stared at its adversary flintily in sheer hatred. Billycan glanced at the other one, a meaty gray cat with nowhere to go, trapped in the corner at the alley’s dead end. Perhaps he could just let the orange kill the gray. That would simplify things, but where was the challenge in that? He grinned hungrily, slinking around a green city Dumpster.
Slowly he crept behind the orange tabby. It can’t be, he thought, nearing the gray. It had a long, pointed snout, thick, gleaming incisors, and a hairless tail, which twisted around its ample feet like a trained snake. It was the largest rat Billycan had ever seen. Tall like him, but big-shouldered and muscled. The rat suddenly lunged toward the tabby, striking it in the face with a clenched paw. The cat jerked backward, stunned by the blow. It shook its head, blood spraying from its nose.
“Diseased, disgusting feline!” yelled the rat with an imperious air. “I’ll snap your bony neck before you’ve a chance to touch a single hair on my head!”
The cat hissed wildly, lashing out, claws extended. Billycan reacted instinctively. He bounded at the cat, smashing it into the brick wall. Starting at its neck, he dug in with his claws, pulling downward. The cat gave a final hiss and fell to the ground—dead.
Billycan’s chest heaved. Wiping spatters of blood from his eyes, he looked over at the gray rat, which stared wide-eyed at him.
The rat stayed in the corner, cautiously eyeing Billycan. It cocked its head and examined him, as if unsure what sort of creature stood before it. Finally it took a step forward. “Many thanks, my unique-looking friend. You have spared me from being that filthy feline’s evening meal.”
Billycan was taken aback by the gray rat’s self-assurance. Every creature he’d encountered on the streets of Trillium was deathly afraid of him, fleeing at the mere sight of him. He looked down at his soiled, bloodied coat. He was quite a fiendish sight, to be sure, but this rat showed no concern.
“Allow me to introduce myself,” said the rat. “My name is Killdeer, and you, my friend, look rather hungry.” Billycan did not respond.
Killdeer kept his black eyes trained on Billycan’s. He smiled. “Let’s go find you something to eat, eh? My associates and I have more grub than we need. We take what we want.” He nodded toward the Dumpster. “No garbage picking for us. You don’t look the sort for picking through thrash, either—far too stately for that.” He chuckled. “Let’s be on our way, shall we?”
We take what we want, thought Billycan. Just like the great leaders of Trillium. He liked the sound of that very much. Killdeer was strapping and confident, the way a leader should be. He felt an immediate kinship.
“C’mon, then,” said Killdeer.
Billycan looked at the dead cat, not wanting to leave the fresh meat. He salivated.
“Oh, no!” said Killdeer, seeing his ravenous eyes. “You don’t want that disease-ridden thing rotting in your gut. You’ll end up with worms. Come on, we’ll fix you up with some real meat.”
Billycan followed Killdeer out of the alley, all the while thinking maybe this rat knew of the Catacombs. He wanted to know if Lenore had gotten home all right. Maybe Killdeer knew her.
Hesitantly, Juniper entered the small antechamber that led to Billycan’s cell. Perhaps today would be different. Nodding at the guard, he went inside.
Billycan’s ears perked as Juniper entered. Pleased to see another face, even if it was his jailer’s, he pulled himself to his feet. “Good morning,” he said, approaching the bars. “It is morning, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is,” replied Juniper. “You look a bit better today—healthier.”
“My shoulder still throbs, especially at night, but yes, it’s getting better. Perhaps you could tell me now how I got these wounds?”
At first Juniper had thought it best to keep things to himself, worried it might alter the effects of the drug, influencing what Billycan knew as the truth. Since nothing had changed, he guessed there wasn’t much sense in keeping it from him now. Perhaps it would help jar his memory. “A pack of wild boars attacked you.”
Billycan took a step back. “Wild boars?”
“You killed one of their pack. Many species still believe in an eye for an eye. The boars are one of them.”
“I—I don’t understand how…” Billycan couldn’t seem to form words. He stared confusedly at his feet. “But why would I…” His body stiffened.
For the first time Juniper saw a flash of recognition. Billycan was remembering something.
Finally Billycan looked up. “An eye for an eye,” he repeated softly. “Your eye, under that patch, it’s gone.” He ran a nervous paw across his face. “I took it from you, didn’t I?” Juniper nodded. “I have killed before, haven’t I… many times.” Juniper stayed silent. “I thought I wanted to know all of my past, but I’m afraid now.” His whole body drooping, Billycan sank to the floor. He wrapped his long arms around himself and rocked on his heels.
For the first time Juniper actually felt sorry for Billycan, who truly seemed to he in pain—physically and mentally. Juniper wanted to distrust Billycan, as everyone else did, but he couldn’t help hoping that this was no act.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Suspect
TEXI SCURRIED AROUND THE LONG TABLE, filling everyone’s cup with tea. The Council had gathered, trying to make sense of the papers the swamp rats had found in the manor attic.
“My father,” said Oleander, “along with Cobweb and Montague, is trying to organize everything. There are scores of papers—all about us.”
Befuddled by the whole idea of it, Carn shook his head. “The swamp rats are from Trillium? I don’t understand any of this.”
“Remember how I told you about the scientists who used to live in the manor with their families? As it turns out, they were from Trillium. When they arrived in the swamp, they had cages of Trillium rats with them.”
Juniper rubbed the bridge of his snout wearily. “What are the odds, then, of Billycan ending up there? Could he have known? So many questions we don’t have time to answer right now—not until we know Nightshade is secure. Speaking of that, until we’ve found the traitor, we’ve posted round-the-clock guards outside Billycan’s cell, just in case this traitor is planning to help Billycan escape.”
Vincent glanced over at Elvi. She shifted awkwardly, as though the conversation bothered her. Texi suddenly popped up before him, refilling his teacup. Vincent jolted. The little rat was always coming out of nowhere at Council meetings, passing out tea and biscuits at the most inopportune moments. “Thanks, Texi,” he said, not wanting to be rude.
She smiled sweetly at him. “You’re welcome,” she whispered.
“Wait,” he whispered back before she could slip away. If Texi wasn’t taking care of children or doling out tea to the Council, she was usually with Elvi. “What’s wrong with Elvi today? She looks upset.”
“I’m not sure.” Texi glanced at her. “She seemed out of sorts earlier. Mentioned something about a day of reckoning, how it would soon be coming to Nightshade… Wonder what she meant?” Texi hurried off before Vincent could ask her anything else.
A day of reckoning—what could that mean? “Elvi,” said Vincent across the table, “I’m just curious. As a newer member of the Council, what do you make of it?”
Surprised, Elvi looked up. Everyone stared at her. “What do I make of what?”
“Why, of Billycan going to the swamp and finding the swamp rats, who just happen to be like us, from Trillium. What do you make of it?”
Clover gave Vincent a look. His tone was clearly suspicious, not curious.
“Well…”, said Elvi, “I think there is possibly something to it. Who’s to say? He’s been missing for three years. He could have learned about the swamp rats from anyone. Perhaps rats no one here knows.” She looked directly at Vincent. “Or perhaps from someone you’d never suspect, someone who has always appeared honorable and brave.” She gave a barely noticeable smile. “Perhaps someone… like you.”
Vincent sat huddled at a table in Bostwick Hall with the rest of the young Council members and Oleander. They looked furtively around the hall, eyeing everyone as they finished their dinners.
“Who do you think it could be?” whispered Oleander to the others.
“We’ve no clue,” said Clover.
“Nearly all the Council members have been questioned,” said Vincent. “No one has even a hint of scandal.” He eyed Clover. “Except Elvi.”
“Oh, not that again!” she said. “You’re talking about the Council meeting, aren’t you? She had every right to turn the tables on you—putting her on the spot like that. It was obvious you were trying to catch her off guard, hoping she’d say the wrong thing, something that would out her as the traitor.”
“Besides,” added Carn, “Elvi’s been cleared by Ragan and Ulrich, and they have a knack for that sort of thing.”
“Well, maybe their knack is off-kilter for once—maybe she’s just a brilliant liar,” said Vincent.
“Oh, hush!” snapped Clover.
“What sort of knack?” asked Oleander.
“You know, a sixth sense—they can sniff out the bad apples,” said Carn. “They run Security with me, and we’ve never had a wink of trouble. When we interviewed the Kill Army majors after we defeated Killdeer, we found that many of them were innocent. They didn’t hurt anyone while they served in the army. They were uncorrupted by Killdeer and Billycan, simply doing their jobs as I was, all trying to stay alive. Because of that they’ve remained free, and not one of them has caused any problem in Nightshade, not in three years. Ulrich and Ragan have questioned them again, in case one of them is the traitor, but none showed even a trace of deception.”
Vincent leaned in, his voice lowered to a whisper. “Do any of you know of a rat named Lenore?” He looked at Clover. “Has Juniper ever mentioned her to you?”
“No,” said Clover, thinking back. “Why?”
Vincent hesitated, thinking maybe he shouldn’t share the information, but then he recalled that feeling he had back in the alley, waiting for the bats. No more secrets and lies, he thought. “I was looking for Juniper and wound up at Billycan’s cell. I was about to enter when I heard Cole and Juniper talking. There is something they’re hiding from us, some dark secret we are not to know. I could hear Billycan muttering in his sleep. He started calling out that name—Lenore. Juniper was upset over it. I could tell by his voice. She’s someone important, I just don’t know how.”
Cocking his head, Victor turned to his brother. “Maybe she’s someone from his past, but what of it? Perhaps you’re making too much of this.” He smiled. “Just like the big fuss you’re making over Elvi.”
“No,” said Vincent firmly, “this is different.” He looked down at his plate of untouched chicken pie. “I spoke to Billycan.”
The entire table’s eyes widened. No one said a word.
Suttor broke the silence. “Nightshade, are you crazy? We are under strict orders to stay far away from him unless Juniper or Cole authorizes it.”
“Exactly!” said Vincent. “Why are they keeping everyone away from Billycan? What don’t they want us to know? I had to investigate.” He shook his head. “After what I overheard, I had to see Billycan for myself.”
“But how did you get in undetected?” asked Victor.
“He was still so weak. The guard had not yet been posted. I knew I had to do it soon—and alone—without any of you trying to stop me.”
Clover shook her head, disappointed in Vincent’s brashness.
“Were you scared?” asked Victor.
“More like terrified,” admitted Vincent. “Even behind bars, wounded, and changed by the serum, or at least acting that way, he made my heart race like a rabbit’s.”
“All right, Nightshade,” said Carn, growing impatient, “what was he like? What did he say?”
Vincent related the encounter.
“You’re sure Juniper knows her?” asked Suttor.
“I’ve no doubt.”
“Why don’t you just ask him about it?” asked Oleander.
“I’ve thought of that, too. I’m torn. I want to say something, but Juniper is probably just trying to protect everyone as he always has. I want to know, but I don’t want to offend him. I’ve never known him to react like that—ever. If you could have heard his voice… he was shaken.”
Suttor’s eyes scanned the room. He looked at every face. “Juniper saved my brothers and me from the Catacombs. I just can’t believe… I mean, you don’t think…”
“Don’t even say it,” warned Clover. “Uncle would never betray a soul, and shame on you for thinking it, even for a second.” She studied her friends’ faces. They all looked down, unable to meet her eye. “You can’t be serious. Uncle would never—”
“We must not rule him out,” said Vincent. “As Elvi said back at the Council meeting, it could be the rat we least suspect—someone who’s always appeared honorable and brave. I may not like her, but the way Juniper has been acting—how he’s been lying—she made an excellent point.”
“You’re becoming obsessed with this,” said Clover. “Accusing Elvi I can understand, but Juniper—after all he’s done for you?” She looked around the table. “For all of you.”
“No one’s accusing Juniper,” said Victor. “And I’m the first one to agree that my brother is becoming a bit of a conspiracy theorist. But if the evidence suggests there’s a chance, then we must investigate it.”
