Dark Cities by Kenyon Sherrilyn & Smith Scott & Priest Cherie & Maberry Jonathan

Author:Kenyon, Sherrilyn & Smith, Scott & Priest, Cherie & Maberry, Jonathan [Kenyon, Sherrilyn]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Titan
Published: 2017-05-15T16:00:00+00:00

HAPPY FOREVER

by

SIMON R. GREEN

Everyone knows a street that doesn’t feel right. Where the light from the street lamps feels sour and spoiled, like bitter honey. Where the shadows are too deep and too dark, and creep up on you when you’re not looking. Everyone knows a house it’s not safe to approach, or turn your back on. Where dim silhouetted figures linger at brightly lit windows, and their movements make no sense at all. And you wonder who these people are, and what they’re doing. And if you’ve got any sense at all you keep on walking until you’re back in some part of the world you recognise, and understand.

The problem with cities is that they’re just too big. People’s needs and ambitions expand to fill the space available, and all the sick hidden secrets in their hearts break loose and rise to the surface. Until in the endless back streets and cul-de-sacs, in the private members-only clubs and lonely bed-sitting rooms, people start to realise they can do anything. Anything at all.

* * *

There is a house where Time stands still. Where nothing moves and nothing changes, no-one enters and no-one ever leaves. A house where what is happening will always happen, as long as someone pays the price.

* * *

My name is Gideon Sable, these days. I’m a professional thief, specialising in acquiring the kind of notable items that can’t normally be stolen. Like a ghost’s clothes, or a photograph of an event that hasn’t happened yet. A ventriloquist’s dummy that speaks in tongues, or a stamp from a country that never existed. Collectors will buy anything. There was a time I could steal your shadow or your reputation, your self-esteem, your favourite memory, or the life you might have known. There was nothing you could have that I couldn’t take from you; and you’d never even notice till it was far too late. It used to be my proud boast that I could steal anything. Until I went after the one thing I shouldn’t have, the only thing that ever meant anything to me.

* * *

It was a cold night in a colder city, and someone was looking for me. In those days I drifted from address to address, and went out of my way not to have any regular habits or close acquaintances, because that was the kind of thing people could use to track you down. Given what I did, there were always going to be certain aggrieved individuals who wanted very much to get their hands on me. But I did leave my card in various places, so potential clients could leave their contact details. So I could decide whether or not I wanted to meet them.

On that particular night, I hovered just inside the doorway to a reasonably out of the way public house, The Three Bells. As though I’d merely stepped inside on a whim, in passing. I looked around casually, checking the place out, ready to disappear back into the night if anything didn’t feel right.

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