Read Online Necroscope: The Plague-Bearer by Brian Lumley - Free Book Online
Authors: Brian Lumley
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arts—to come to his aid and lend him the know-how to deal with the jealous bully. Of course Bonnie Jean didn’t know about that; she only knew what she’d seen. And:
“No, you weren’t lucky,” she shook her head. “You’re good, Harry, and you know it! Anyway, I was glad to see Big Jimmy get his…though I can’t say the same for the bar’s furniture!”
Harry frowned. “You know, I’d have bet good money that he’d be back for more, that one. That he’d be out looking for me one dark night. But we never have seen him again.”
Ah no, not quite true! she thought, sitting down beside him on the edge of the bed as he buttoned his shirt. The reason you haven’t seen him again, Harry Keogh, is because me and my girls sucked that big bastard dry one night when you were away! While out loud she said, “Oh, I shouldn’t worry about him. I did hear that Big Jimmy has moved out of the city to Dunbar or somewhere down the coast. And a good thing he didn’t come back, or by now there’d be no furniture left in the bar at all!”
Harry leaned towards her but B.J. pulled away, saying, “Now hold! You asked me a question—about that problem I mentioned—and I’ll tell you about it, if you’ll only be still! Just lie there and listen… mah wee man!” But that last was spoken with a certain irresistible emphasis, and in a moment the Necroscope was as pliable as putty where she pushed on his shoulders until she’d stretched him out again with his head on the pillows. And then:
“Very well,” B.J. said, her voice low, husky, but in no way seductive. “Now listen!” She reached out a hand and turned down the bedside lamp, and in the dull golden glow her eyes were yet more tilted, almost triangular, animal-like and totally undeniable.
“Harry, it’s the middle of the moon’s cycle,” she began her narrative, outlining post-hypnotic orders or instructions which would lie submerged or “forgotten” in the Necroscope’s subconscious mind, but ready to resurface the moment he needed them. “A waning moon, Harry,” B.J. continued, “which won’t be full again for sixteen days. So why is that important, eh? Well, while I’m hardly what you would call a weak woman, still I am at my weakest beneath a waning moon. Now, normally I wouldn’t involve you but deal with this thing myself; except this time I’m of a mind that the threat is other than normal—indeed, far from normal—and I can feel it drawing closer, even looming over us.
“You see, this isn’t a Big Jimmy sort of threat, Harry. Indeed, I would rather a dozen Big Jimmies than this, whatever it is! And that’s the problem, for I just don’t know—but I know what it might be.
“I want you to remember certain of the things I’ve told you before. Not on the surface of your mind but deep down inside it. In the days to come remember, and be aware of the danger; for I fear it’s a danger not only to my girls but also and especially to me and my Master in the heights up North. But because we are together, you and I—and even though you’re not of the pack—who or whatever this threat proves to be may believe it necessary first to deal with you in order to get to me and mine. Now, is all of this understood? Answer me.”
Harry lifted his head an inch from the pillows, nodded, and fell back again. And with his unblinking gaze fixed on hers, he said, “You think someone or thing is coming for you and I might get in its way, putting myself in danger.”
“That’s right!” she replied. “But if I am correct in what I more than suspect, it won’t come in the form of a human agency. This is a dark thing, Harry, from dark times. Now let me remind you:
“My Master has powerful enemies in the world. They hate him because he is unlike them; his nature is not like theirs. While I am less than he is—and my girls less than me—still they hate us also. They know that without me, a moon-child, sworn to serve Him in the Mount, he would be
“No, you weren’t lucky,” she shook her head. “You’re good, Harry, and you know it! Anyway, I was glad to see Big Jimmy get his…though I can’t say the same for the bar’s furniture!”
Harry frowned. “You know, I’d have bet good money that he’d be back for more, that one. That he’d be out looking for me one dark night. But we never have seen him again.”
Ah no, not quite true! she thought, sitting down beside him on the edge of the bed as he buttoned his shirt. The reason you haven’t seen him again, Harry Keogh, is because me and my girls sucked that big bastard dry one night when you were away! While out loud she said, “Oh, I shouldn’t worry about him. I did hear that Big Jimmy has moved out of the city to Dunbar or somewhere down the coast. And a good thing he didn’t come back, or by now there’d be no furniture left in the bar at all!”
Harry leaned towards her but B.J. pulled away, saying, “Now hold! You asked me a question—about that problem I mentioned—and I’ll tell you about it, if you’ll only be still! Just lie there and listen… mah wee man!” But that last was spoken with a certain irresistible emphasis, and in a moment the Necroscope was as pliable as putty where she pushed on his shoulders until she’d stretched him out again with his head on the pillows. And then:
“Very well,” B.J. said, her voice low, husky, but in no way seductive. “Now listen!” She reached out a hand and turned down the bedside lamp, and in the dull golden glow her eyes were yet more tilted, almost triangular, animal-like and totally undeniable.
“Harry, it’s the middle of the moon’s cycle,” she began her narrative, outlining post-hypnotic orders or instructions which would lie submerged or “forgotten” in the Necroscope’s subconscious mind, but ready to resurface the moment he needed them. “A waning moon, Harry,” B.J. continued, “which won’t be full again for sixteen days. So why is that important, eh? Well, while I’m hardly what you would call a weak woman, still I am at my weakest beneath a waning moon. Now, normally I wouldn’t involve you but deal with this thing myself; except this time I’m of a mind that the threat is other than normal—indeed, far from normal—and I can feel it drawing closer, even looming over us.
“You see, this isn’t a Big Jimmy sort of threat, Harry. Indeed, I would rather a dozen Big Jimmies than this, whatever it is! And that’s the problem, for I just don’t know—but I know what it might be.
“I want you to remember certain of the things I’ve told you before. Not on the surface of your mind but deep down inside it. In the days to come remember, and be aware of the danger; for I fear it’s a danger not only to my girls but also and especially to me and my Master in the heights up North. But because we are together, you and I—and even though you’re not of the pack—who or whatever this threat proves to be may believe it necessary first to deal with you in order to get to me and mine. Now, is all of this understood? Answer me.”
Harry lifted his head an inch from the pillows, nodded, and fell back again. And with his unblinking gaze fixed on hers, he said, “You think someone or thing is coming for you and I might get in its way, putting myself in danger.”
“That’s right!” she replied. “But if I am correct in what I more than suspect, it won’t come in the form of a human agency. This is a dark thing, Harry, from dark times. Now let me remind you:
“My Master has powerful enemies in the world. They hate him because he is unlike them; his nature is not like theirs. While I am less than he is—and my girls less than me—still they hate us also. They know that without me, a moon-child, sworn to serve Him in the Mount, he would be
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