Night Owls by Lauren M. Roy Read Free Book Online

bucked again, a little stronger now.
    “Right this second? No, I can’t. But you’d better damned well believe I’ll be carrying rowan and silver next time we meet.” She glanced up again. No more stars, and the sky had gone from black to indigo.
    The Jackal snorted. “Have to get . . . to ground?
Leech?
”
    Val brought one gnarled, taloned hand up and let it rest on the Jackal’s cheek for a second, before she raked it downward. Four parallel grooves opened up, oozing black blood down into the thing’s hair. Half an hour ago, they’d have closed up almost as soon as they’d been opened. With dawn coming, they continued to bleed. “We both do, and you know it. But I’d wager I can stand it longer than you can. You want to take that bet?” She sat back, settling down on the Jackal’s stomach. “I can get nice and comfortable, if you want to test it out.”
    Panic crept into the thing’s eyes. “No . . .
No.
” It writhed, whining and mewling when it realized Val wasn’t going to budge.
“Please.”
    “I’ll let you up. But you’d better
run
. Clear? And tonight, when you drag your ass out of whatever hole you’ve crawled into, you keep running, until you’re out of this town.”
    It nodded again, eager. “Anything. Please.”
    Val let it squirm a second or two longer, then climbed off it and gained her feet. The Jackal scrambled up, too, backing away from her toward the woods. They regarded each other for a moment, as Val felt the fatigue creep into her bones. She suspected she
could
hold off longer than the Jackal, but it wasn’t something she truly wanted to test. Then the thing flashed its yellow teeth at her one last time, and loped off into the trees.
    Val didn’t watch it leave. She turned and fled herself, as fast as she could go. With each step, she felt her speed draining away, her muscles protesting against the abuse. She felt the burn in her bones as the sun came ever closer to the horizon. The sight of her street filled her with relief and dread at the same time. She’d never seen the Maple Road sign in light this bright, ever. It stung her eyes.
    She didn’t bother with her keys, or even her front door. Val rounded the back of the house and scrambled up the drainpipe, not caring if any of her neighbors saw. The sun was coming.
The sun was coming.
She tore out the screen and flung it to the ground. She set her palm flat against the window frame and pushed upward. The old wood groaned, then the locks gave way and the window was open.
    For the third time in as many hours, Val found herself diving through a window. This time, into her own bedroom, where—when she regained her feet—she drew her velvet blackout curtains behind her and panted with relief. She was safe. She’d beaten the sun, chased off a Jackal, and saved a kid’s life—a full night’s work if ever there was one.
    Val shuffled toward the bed.
I’m going to sleep like the dead, har har.
She collapsed onto the mattress, not even bothering to get under the blankets. As she drifted off, a breeze made its way through the still-open window and around the edge of the curtain. She could smell the rot of the Jackal on it.
Probably went to ground not far from here.
    Except, there was something else tangled in with the decay, acrid and sharp, like a dog had marked its territory.
Her
Jackal hadn’t smelled like that. This scent had a distinctly male tang, which meant—
    Which means there are more of them.
She fought against the fatigue, managing to sit up and even getting one leg over the side of the bed. But it was too late. Outside, to the east, the sun peeked above the horizon.
    Darkness descended.

5
    E LLY SETTLED BACK into the chair. She tapped at the rim of the teacup, trying to organize the flood of questions that had sprung to mind. Father Value had never been forthcoming with The Big Answers, preferring to tell her what she needed to know when she needed to know it. Most often, that came in the form of a crash