by J. P. Rice
I stepped into the alley and spun in a circle. The wind whispered something from above and I inclined my head in reaction. I saw the man’s soul rising in the sky. He was alone. No death merchant in the area. That didn’t make sense. A soul didn’t just head off to the next world by him or herself.
They needed a guide. Someone to lead them into the afterlife. I had a strong feeling this was what the Morrigan was talking about. The body could give me a clue to go on. But with the authorities showing up right now, I wouldn’t be able to get close enough for a proper inspection. The wind picked up and I shivered as I exited the alley and hustled to my Jeep.
According to the calendar, winter had ended nearly a month ago. When I’d first returned to Pittsburgh, I thought it was just global warming causing the seasons to shift a bit. I came to realize that we had a real problem on our hands when other cities like Philadelphia and Baltimore shifted into spring.
Pittsburgh was the only city on the East Coast dealing with this anomaly. I had a strong suspicion of who was behind it too. The demons of the Red Cavern. However, I had other pressing matters to deal with.
Mike Merlino had called me and said he had something of vast importance to talk about. It just so happened that I wanted to chew him out for being all lovey dovey with my mother anyway, so I’d taken the meeting. The wizard had presented himself as an ally, but I had to keep my guard up with the crafty young man. You never knew in this biz.
With my frozen fingers losing feeling rapidly, I took my keys out of my purse and squeezed them in my gloved right hand. I wanted to be ready to start the engine and turn on the heat immediately. This was a friendly reminder that I needed a better pair of gloves.
I also had the Morrigan to worry about. She had told me there was a problem that she needed help with. That firsthand look at the kitchen manager’s soul flying away was disturbing and needed taken care of immediately. Confused souls wandering about aimlessly presented a huge potential problem.
However, I had a strong feeling the Goddess of Death wanted to cause destruction and needed a wing-woman. Even though the mayhem could be fun, I didn’t want to go down that dark path again.
Sure, I’d burned Tyr almost beyond recognition and killed Hera during my quest for the spear, but it was for the betterment of society. All too often, the Morrigan preferred senseless violence that I wanted to curb.
I jumped up into my Jeep Wrangler with a ten-inch lift and shoved the keys into the ignition. My thumb flipped forward, and the engine turned over. Immediately, I adjusted the heat settings and rubbed my hands together. I pressed down on the gas intermittently to get the heat to kick on faster.
The shifter-vampire war was still percolating. In my effort to resolve that situation, I’d failed miserably. In fact, I’d exacerbated the escalating battle. I didn’t imagine Jonathan and the vampires had any issues with me, but Octavius and the werewolves surely wanted me dead.
I planned to lie low for a while. I hadn’t told anyone where I lived down south, so returning to Hilton Head Island was always an option. But Pittsburgh was my town. Curling up in front of a fire until all this blew over sounded good to me. I still had a few friends and my father, whom I could count on.
My mind returned to my original inquiry. Where the hell was the Norse God of Thunder and how could I locate him? There was a Norse presence in Pittsburgh, but I wouldn’t know if any of them were loyal to Tyr or Loki. Odds were that Loki’s tentacles stretched throughout the city and beyond, choking out anyone of Norse allegiance who dared to defy his orders. So that option was off the table.
That meant I needed to practice the utmost patience on this front. I shifted to drive and pulled out onto Negley Avenue.
Chapter 2
As I returned home from checking on my dragon eggs, I drove straight past my house because a werewolf in human form was peeking in my front window. He turned and stared at my vehicle, then went back to snooping when he realized I hadn’t slowed down.
It was the young man with the stenciled beard who had been working as the bouncer at the Wolf House. I passed two houses, pulled off to the side of the road and turned off my Jeep. Quietly, I opened the door and got out.
The wolf was still nosing around with his back turned to me. I removed my coat and set it on the hood of the Jeep. Crouching down, I spider walked across the street and hid behind my neighbor’s bush. Worried that he would run, I cast a spell to set a lock bubble around the wolf.
The invisible enclosure’s design was obvious. Trapping the wolf inside. There was only one problem with invisible objects. Were they really there? I shifted the dimension of my vision and saw the outlined grid for the lock bubble. Werewolves were so fast that I had to check the spell, or he could easily outrun me. With the bubble in place, I walked leisurely toward my house.
I hit the front lawn and he still hadn’t turned around. “Ahem,” I said, clearing my throat.
The wolf spun around with a look of horror running through his eyes. He went to escape to the left and smashed into my magic. The confused wolf bounced off the magical enclosure, trying the other side and quickly becoming enraged. He raised his chin and howled at the tiny sliver of a crescent moon in the dark sky.
His lunar savior ignored his pleas for help. The man scratched at the edges of the bubble, then bit at it. Fangs and claws developed as he continued to attack the enclosure. In an act of desperation, he started to shift. His coat and clothes tore away, splitting at the seams and falling off his rapidly expanding body.
His head bounced off the top and the action enraged him, causing him to punch at the lock bubble. Growling and grunting, he spun in a circle, unleashing a tornado of violence that did nothing to compromise the bubble and only served to wear him out.
He grunted and groaned as he fell to his knees, defeated. I walked around and faced him. “You ready to tell me why you’re staking out my place?”
He jerked his head to the side, avoiding eye contact. Breathing huskily, he said, “Isn’t it obvious who sent me?”
“Look at me, you little runt.” I waited as he turned his elongated wolf’s head reluctantly. “It is obvious. But for the life of me, I can’t imagine how you could be so stupid to come after me. I suppose you can’t turn down the alpha’s order. Or does Octavius care that little about you that he would throw you to the wolves? Pardon the pun.”
I peeked around to make sure I wasn’t putting on a show for the neighbors. Nope. No rubberneckers yet.
He stood up and held his chin high. He spoke regally, “I’ve failed on my mission and disgraced my family in the process. Kill me honorably and send my remains back to the house.”
“In due time, perhaps. What was your mission?” I wanted to know.
He rolled his eyes. “Take a guess.”
I went with the obvious choice. “Did he send you to kill me?”
“Nope.” He shook his hairy face back and forth.
I wasn’t a big fan of guessing games. “If I have to guess one more time, I’m going to get violent,” I promised.
With a sour frown on his face, he said, “He sent me to kidnap your little faerie friend.”
“She’s a dragonfly,” I corrected him. Now I wished I had killed Octavius when I had the chance.
“Oh, so sorry,” he apologized, but in a mocking tone. He really did want to die.
“Apology not accepted. Hmmm. What shall I do with you?” I mused, pacing along my lawn.
“I already told you. Kill me.” He was acting quite snotty toward the person holding his fate. Odd technique.
I stopped pacing and turned my gaze on him. “Oh, I hardly think that would be fun. In my experience, almost all the time, two dead bodies are worth less than one that’s alive.”
The wolf smirked, and I wasn’t sure why. That wasn’t really a joke. I told him, “That doesn’t mean I’m letting you go. I might just hold on to you until I really need you. I just have to figure out where I’m going to house you.”
He stared a
t me, his dark eyes filling with rage. “So, what? So, you’re just going to put me in a cage, like an animal?”
He seemed to have no self-awareness, standing there in werewolf form. I said, “I don’t have a mirror on me, but you do know what you look like, yes?”
He looked down at his shredded clothes, then back at me. “Our family has more money than they know what to do with. I’m certain they’d pay any ransom you name.”
His bravery was dwindling fast. Moments ago, he’d begged for an honorable death. Now, he wanted ransomed back to the family he had disgraced. Strange turn of events.
“I’ve got plenty of money,” I informed him. “It’s good to have. You know why?” I waited a few seconds, giving him a chance to answer. He kept his lips sealed, so I went on, “People will do anything for money if they don’t have it. It can be the ultimate motivator. Countless sins have been wrongly justified in the pursuit of filthy lucre.”
“So. What do you want?” he asked, holding back his anger and frustration.
I thought for a few moments. That was a damn good question. “I want people to stop chasing after me. I want people to stop trying to kill me. Short of that, I’ll settle for a small trophy.”
He shook his head and raised his voice, “You can’t do this. Octavius will send more men to find out what happened to me.”
I giggled. “Oh, I think you’re giving yourself far too much credit. I remember when Caesar yelled at you like the little twerp that you are. Now, you’re trying to worm your way out of this by having him save you. You were better off begging for death. Much more honorable.”
“Then do it. Kill me, already,” he yelled and wiped the foam from the corners of his mouth.
I turned over my shoulder and looked behind me. “Did you see me pop out of a bottle? I’m not a genie granting wishes over here. You don’t get to select what happens next. Spoiler alert; you’re not dying and you’re not going home. My advice is to enjoy your stay and don’t be an asshole. Be careful, the innkeeper is a bit crazy.”
He shook his head and spoke with disdain, “I can’t wait until my pack shows up and rips you apart. I only hope they save your heart for me to eat.”
I smirked. I normally enjoyed a little repartee or trash talk, but never something that personal. “Ooohhh, those are the kinds of statements you may want to keep to yourself. It’s that kind of stuff that really stirs up the innkeeper. You’d be wise to mind your tongue, young man.”
I squeezed the lock bubble through the front door and pushed the wolf into my living room. Titania zoomed into the room in a dazed state. She loved her naps. “What’s going on here?” She yawned, turned her back on him and whispered, “Who’s the wolf carrying the big package?”
I hadn’t noticed his endowment until she mentioned it. She wasn’t lying. “Actually, I don’t remember if I’ve ever been told. Say, wolf boy, what’s your name?”
He was still in werewolf form and I wondered why he hadn’t shifted back to human form. He said snottily, “Not telling you. In fact, I’m going to drop a stinky deuce on your carpet.” He squatted down to reinforce the threat.
I encouraged him, “Do it up, buttercup. I really think you should. It’ll stay inside that bubble there and we won’t even be able to smell it.”
Contrary to my tough talk, I hoped he wouldn’t do it because I eventually needed to dissolve the shield around him and everything would be exposed. “That’s fine. Titania and I will give you a name then.” I turned to my dragonfly friend. “Got any ideas? I like Teen Wolf.”
“I don’t know. Harry is too obvious. How about Little Big Horn?” she said and sniggered.
I stared at the young wolf, surprised that he wasn’t going crazy. I’d expected more than that short burst of flailing against the shield when we were outside. “No. They all have names that sound like Roman emperors. It’s probably Centurion or I know. Brutus. Et tu, Brute, et tu?”
The wolf rolled his eyes and turned away.
“Were they even emperors?” Titania questioned.
“I was being colorful, all right?” I told her and suggested, “Nero?”
Frustrated, he yelled out, “It’s Justinian. My. Name. Is. Justinian.”
I snapped my fingers. “Damnit, I was close when I said Centurion.” I focused my attention on the newly named wolf. “Here’s what’s going to happen Justinian. You’re going to remain inside that lock bubble until I can go to the pet store in the morning and get a cage suited for a wolf. Then, Titania will stand watch over you. She will decide when or if you eat. I was thinking a nice vegetarian diet.”
He shook his finger in front of his face and threatened, “You’re making a big mistake.” He held his finger still. “I’ll give you one last chance to let me go.”
“Or what? What are you going to do?” I genuinely wanted to know.
“You’ll have to wait and see. It won’t be good.” He spouted the classic ambiguous threat. Unfortunately, he didn’t have the reputation to back that kind of threat.
Titania and I retired to the kitchen because his nonsensical jabbering was getting tiresome. I didn’t know exactly how I would play this. How much value did this junior member of the pack hold? What could I get for him? I wanted to use him to keep Octavius in check. But how?
I leaned toward Titania, lowered my voice and said, “I’m not sure what to do with him. If I tell Octavius that I would kill Justinian if he stepped out of line, he might just tell me to go ahead and do it. Then, any value would be gone.”
“Do you want anything from Octavius?” she asked so quietly that I could barely hear her.
I tossed my head around, debating. “Not really.”
Her eyes widened as if a huge brainwave had just occurred. She said enthusiastically, “I think I might know a way to keep him under control.”
“How is that?” I asked, intrigued.
“You tell Octavius that you have Justinian.”
That was her great idea? “I just told you that could blow up in my face.”
Titania held her hand out as she hovered in front of my face. “Patience, darling. Allow me to finish. You tell Octavius that you will turn Justinian over to Jonathan if he steps out of line. Nothing will enrage the werewolf more than the threat of the vampires desecrating the body of his offspring.”
I lifted my eyebrows and the corner of my mouth twisted up. “Now you’re on to something. I don’t think I’ll say anything just yet, but this is a nice card to have in the back pocket.”
Titania tilted her head to the side. “Just trying to help out the team.”
Yes. This flew in the face of the new leaf I was trying to turn over. The damn wind always seemed to blow that leaf back over. Every. Single. Time.
Sure, kidnapping a werewolf sounded bad on its face, but there were certain nuances to the situation. This was a classic reversal of fortune, since he was initially trying to kidnap my friend to hold over my head. Besides, I planned to get him a nice cage.
I went over to the cabinet and pulled out a precious item. “Hey, Titania. I had Owen put something together for you.”
I held up the specially designed burgundy sports bra that Owen had made for her. He had stitched the capital letter T into it with golden thread. It was bigger than just a bra, more like a tight shirt with extra features. Owen had worked two hidden pockets into it too. Best of all, it had a superhero costume feel to it.
Choked up, Titania said, “That’s for me?”
“Sure is. Here. Let me help you get it on.”
Titania landed on my counter and I helped get the stretchy material over her big head and down onto her thorax. She pushed her arms and legs through as I tucked her big old boobies into the cups and pulled the snug shirt down to the bottom of her thorax.
“Try it out. See how it feels.”
Her wings began beating and she zipped across the room and smashed into the wall.
“Son of a bitch,” she exclaimed as she peeled herself off the ground. She jumped up
and started shadow boxing. “This is amazing. They don’t weigh me down or ripple in the wind. I can go even faster now.”
She zipped around the kitchen a few times, and as she hovered in front of me, she did look like a tiny superhero.
Chapter 3
As I entered Dietch’s Bar and Grille in Blawnox, a blast of cigarette smoke hit me in the face. I peered around the foggy room and counted seven people, including the bartender. All smoking. The small one-room bar with tables, a dartboard, a foosball table and two TVs didn’t have working heat. Testing the theory, I blew out a big breath cloud.
Space heaters had been placed on both ends of the long hardwood bar and in several spots around the room. Signed pictures of the Steelers, Penguins and Pirates sent a rush of nostalgia through me, reminding me of the great teams from the 70s. I located Mike Merlino, waving at me from the back corner near the dartboard.
He was wearing a Penguins winter jacket and the famous Steelers Polka winter hat with a big golden tassel. It appeared the tiny space heater on the windowsill near the table wasn’t pushing out too much warmth. Every few seconds, a rush of breath clouds shot from Mike’s nostrils, giving him the appearance of an angry bull.
The bartender, swathed in ski pants and a thick wool jacket, didn’t even turn around as I strolled past the bar. She was leaning against the end of the bar, staring at the weather on the TV, and didn’t turn to greet the new patron.
As I sat down, I said snidely, “Sorry, I didn’t recognize you without Brighid’s arms wrapped around you.”
Mike rolled his eyes. “I don’t recognize you either. Gale, right? Or is it something different today?”
I swallowed and went to explain, but he waved me off and continued, “I still don’t understand why you blasted her. At first, I thought you were coming after me. It was a pretty solid punch, I guess, but why would you be mad about her hugging me?”