Lady Nightmare

            He waited patiently as the smoke trickled into the room and condensed into a woman in a black slip. Diamonds sparkled across her dress and skin like tiny, glittering stars.

            She took the setting, looking around at the ruined room. Bookshelves, tomes, ornaments and torn paper littered the place. Her eyes fell on the black smear on the back of one of the overturned bookshelves.

            ‘So he killed her?’

            ‘Looks like.’

            ‘Then she was right.’ She pushed a toppled table with her toe. ‘Who else knows?’

            ‘Just her servants—as far as we know.’

            ‘Have them expunged and then close this place down.’ She paused and examined the table before righting it. She jerked the red shade off the ceiling lamp and peered at the wooden veneer. A dot of blood had caught her eye. ‘Take a sample of this and get it analyzed. We need to know exactly what he is.’

            ‘Of course.’ He pulled a cotton swab from one of the pockets of his long coat and rubbed it in the congealing blood.

            ‘Do we know where he is now?’ She asked, lifting the large Duatal from the ground and dusting it off.

            ‘I believe she informed us, yes. He’s residing with the Lacan family.’

            She looked up in surprise. ‘Byron?’

            ‘Yes Mistress Nuit.’

            ‘But he’s been so obedient in the past. Why get involved like this now?’ She mused aloud, and then turned back to him. ‘If he is what we think, then we need to remove him before this escalates further.’

            He inclined his head. ‘Humans?’

            ‘Yes, I think that would be best. Try not to harm Byron if possible. He’s been so loyal to the cause.’ She took a final look around the room and sighed. ‘A shame. She’d been with us a long time. It will be hard to find an oracle comparable.’ Her form burst into tendrils of smoky darkness, which rose to the ceiling, and then flitted out of the partially open door, taking the book with her.

            He pocketed the swab in a sterile case and then strode from the room. The space he’d been standing in burst into flame, and every footstep he took left a burning print. The papers caught quickly and the fire spread to consume the walls while he was still in the hall. He found one of the young women waiting for him at the end of the corridor.

            ‘Is Mistress Cas—’ She started to ask, but his hand covered her mouth and flames poured down her throat like liquid, burning out her larynx before she could scream, and setting her ablaze from within.

            He found another waiting on the stairs in the darkness, her face stained with tears. She’d been the one to look in on Cassandra and find the scene. She’d been the one to report it.

            He raised her chin and she stared up at him, eyes still brimming with salt-water. ‘Hush now,’ he said. ‘You’ve done very well.’ His lips closed over hers before she could speak, and then his hand was reaching around to he back and pressing searing flame into her spine. He felt her scream briefly into his mouth, and then he pushed her down the steps. Her body crumbled to ash before she even reached the bottom step.

            The flames followed him up, burning through the dust and seeping into the mortar. Fire licked at his heels and he took a moment to look back down the way he’d come. The darkness was lit from below as the conflagration spread. The door below flew open and the roar of flames redoubled. It was rejoined by a scream as a woman rushed from the flames. She was wreathed in fire, skin shearing off as ash. She ran screaming up the stairway towards him, trying to escape. She battered her own body desperately, trying to put out her burning flesh. He hastily drew a firearm from his side and shot her in the head. Her body toppled backwards, arms of flame reaching to devour her. He turned back and reached the top door and slipped out. The flames licked at the door, but could go no further.

            The prostitutes saw his gun and held their breath, waiting to see if a badge would materialize in following before they reacted. Nor did they react as he fixed a notice to the door. They’d seen Orders to Demolish before, and always they failed to be followed through on.

            It wasn’t until police arrived the next day, demolition team in tow, to evict them, that the hasty panic of escape and flight developed.