The Black Knight Chronicles Continues by John G. Hartness

Author:John G. Hartness
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: BelleBooks Inc.
Published: 2017-11-03T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

I DON’T KNOW what it says about my life that I felt neither surprise or nausea at the sight of a couple of human femurs poking out of the beef stew in the huge kettle, but I didn’t. I thought for a second about what Alexis would accept as proof, then decided that Rabbit would have to suffice. I knelt down beside the terrified vampire and took out his earbuds.

“Rabbit,” I said quietly.

“HMMM?” His muffled voice was almost a scream, and I remembered that he was probably half-deafened from the music blaring in his ears. I couldn’t risk talking at a level he could hear, so I just yanked off his blindfold and turned his head to face me.

He sagged with relief. Then his eyes went huge, and he stiffened back up. “HMMMMMMM!!!!” he tried to scream, but I knew what was up.

I ducked and rolled to my left, away from the cooking fire, as the boggart grabbed for my neck from behind. I knew how fast the critter was from our scrap in the alley, so I kept rolling until I could spring to my feet. Those wrinkled grey hands I remembered from the alley flashed over my head again and again as I kept rolling, then I popped up and planted my open palms in the center of the boggart’s chest. It flew backward across the room and slid down the wall, collapsing to the floor like a pile of dirty washcloths. I thought for about an eighth of a second about going over to look at it, but my education in the horror movies of the 1980s stood me in good stead and I held back. Sure enough, it was playing possum, and when it realized that I wasn’t just going to put myself in arm’s reach, it got up and started advancing on me slowly.

“That’s right, jackass, I know your tricks. I know better than to go over and check to make sure monsters are dead. Because they’re never dead. And I don’t split up in scary houses, I don’t have sex while being chased by monsters, I know the monster is in the closet right behind the cat, and I don’t sparkle!” On the “sparkle,” I threw myself at the boggart, drawing my kukri as I charged. The boggart stood his ground for about three seconds, then bolted to the left, toward the entrance I’d come in through. I adjusted course and cut him off, a kukri flashing over his face close enough to shave him. If he had facial hair instead of a face like a shar-pei.

It stopped in front of me, holding up both hands like an MMA fighter, and advanced slowly. I flicked a kukri out at its left hand, and it stepped back. We danced like that for a few seconds, it coming in, me striking, it retreating. After half a dozen or so repetitions, I thought I noticed a pattern. Every time it advanced, it bent the opposite knee just before it flicked out a punch.

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