Page 30 of Hospital for Immortal Creatures

“That one? Of course, I heard her. All the shadows heard her. She was screaming like mad… She passed to the Dark Place – chose it herself. Can you imagine? Said that only there would she feel safe.”

Constantine couldn’t believe his luck. “Did she say why she went there?”

“All she said was that she’d be safe because they couldn’t follow her there.”

He might not have been that lucky after all, because this was the first time he was hearing of someone seeking refuge in the place where no light and shadow existed. The World of the Damned where evil spirits, demons, parasites, thieves, procurers and all sorts of monsters resided, all imprisoned for terrible deeds. No soul in full possession of its wits would willingly go there.

Ever since he’d been a little child, his mother would always say that he could do anything he wanted in the Beyond, except approach the World of the Damned. Not that he had heeded her warning…

Suddenly, his consciousness was violently shoved, sending him tumbling through shadows and light until he crashed back into his waiting skeleton. His six-foot-six dark wings spread wide.

Mikhail jumped to his feet. The skull twisted and gazed at the manticore with its empty eye sockets. The jaw moved and spoke in a deep voice. “I still don’t get how some souls can bring their own baseball bats to the Beyond.”

The skeleton’s tissues materialised, followed by all the other body structures, while the two wings disappeared into the invisible space on either side of the spine.

Mikhail came closer. “Well?”

Constantine, now in his human-like form and elegant suit, let loose a string of vulgarities. “I’m not sure… Let’s just say that souls live on different levels, and I can reach each one of them, but the place where Kaliope willingly went… It’s the only place I never visit.”

“The World of the Damned?” the manticore asked. Every living creature knew about the Dark Place. Or Hell, as most humans called it.

“She was running from something – or someone. A soul told me that she was yelling about how she could only be safe in the Dark Place. Whatever killed her also scared the wits out of her.”

“What could be so terrifying to an eight-hundred-year-old witch?”

“I haven’t the slightest clue.” Constantine ran his fingers through his hair. His head was still ringing from the hit. “I’m sorry, brother. If I go chasing after her in Hell, I may not be able to come back.”

“I know.” The spirit of the manticore was flickering around Mikhail, visible only to a necromancer. “There’s something else.” He opened the box, turning the lid upside down.

Constantine observed the bloody letters, frowning. Despite their smudged appearance, he could still make out the message. “So, it’s not just a decapitated head? Whoever did this wanted to make sure you’d take the hint. A little over the top, if you ask me…”

“The cut is extremely precise.” Mikhail glanced inside the box one last time before closing it.

“Weapon?”

“Mystery. I’ve never seen a cleaner cut. We couldn’t determine what caused it.”

“Even Zacharia?”

“Even Zacharia.” Mikhail tapped his fingers across the wooden surface of the box. “We also have no idea how this thing appeared at the gate. The guards haven’t noticed anything, and there’s nothing on the tapes. It just… appears.”

“Just appears? Sounds like magic to me. It could have something to do with the witches. But then, why the blood threat?”

“A warning for the other witches at the Hospital?” Mikhail shrugged. “Could be anything. This would reign havoc if it spread.”

Constantine got the message. “Am I to understand that the Tribunal won’t be made aware of it?”

“For now.”

“Let me ask around discretely. Some kind of information might be circulating among the immortal dumps in the city. Trust me, sometimes it’s better to do it the old way than to delve into the Beyond.”

***

Kaliope Gazis, of her living, had inhabited a sumptuous Mediterranean style, two-storey estate with a bright concrete façade and a spacious yard with an outdoor pool. It was in the heart of Dragalevtsi, surrounded by other luxurious houses, tall bushes and a wooden fence that served more as a decoration, rather than protection. Like every other estate in the area.

Zacharia rang the bell at the front gate. After a while with no answer, he vaulted over the fence and landed close to a pile of fallen leaves that someone had swept up. He observed the drained swimming pool as shuffling noises drew his attention to the backyard.

An elderly man in camouflage clothes appeared from one side of the house, holding a hunting rifle. Pointing the weapon at Zacharia, he shouted, “One more step and ya’re a goner.”

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