by Sasha White
“I think it looks cooler than cool,” Sexy Cindy said softly. “If I’d known something like this existed, I’d have asked you to kill me a long time ago.”
The buildings were impressive, even to someone who’d lived here a couple hundred years. We had our share of beings who could see the future. For whatever reason, they all worked in the artistic pursuits. So, every time Prosaic City encroached on us to the point where it had a collapse and we had our version of a bad infestation of vermin, we redid the place.
Current standard was wide at the bottom going quickly to various levels, but all slim and spiky after about the fifth floor. I called it a sort of Futuristic Eiffel Tower effect, which always made Maurice wince. Tons of shiny metal and windows that went dark when the sun was out, lots of light, no matter what. Grass where humans had streets – we didn’t have the same transportation issues they did, after all, and grass is so much nicer to pad on. And roll on. I started to whine and realized I really needed to get back into human form or I was at risk of going wild for a while. Nothing wrong with going wild, of course, but there was too much going on to indulge in that right now.
“Be a good girl and relax,” Maurice said soothingly. Sadly, it helped. I’d been friends with Amanda and Maurice for my entire undead existence, and no one knows what you really need and want to hear like a vampire.
The doors slid open and Maurice and Amanda stepped on the moving sidewalk. Because we’d now entered Necropolis, but weren’t in what was called Necropolis Proper, we could still easily see the human plane. We sailed past a ton of pews, through several statues of the Virgin Mary and over the altar. At the priests’ room we went downward and into the Proper and the human parts faded away.
What we called the Proper and a human would call ground level for Necropolis was about a hundred feet under what Prosaic City called the ground. We still had sunlight and moonlight and all that, we just sat a little lower on our astral plane. No Necropolite complained about this – walking through humans was freaky and most didn’t like it. Those who did tended to be those who really thought they had definite human leanings and were just misunderstood. Yeah, even the undead have their version of modern day Goth kids. Not that a real Goth was a problem, but a wannabe is a wannabe, no matter what plane you call home.
The sidewalk took us into the main part of Headquarters. Personnel were waiting to take Freddy and Sexy Cindy to Indoctrination and there were a host of medical personnel waiting for yours truly. I tried not to cringe and didn’t succeed, if Maurice’s mutterings were any indication.
In addition to the med staff, there was another being waiting for me. “Oh, no. Maurice, do something.”
“Not a thing I can do to dislodge him, but I’ll stay with you into the hospital,” Maurice said in a low voice.
He was in full wolf form for no reason other than that he was a fanatic about it. I’d actually never seen him in human form and almost never in werewolf form, he was that committed to the rather ancient belief that werewolves were strongest in “natural animal form”. He bounded over, tail wagging, eyes serious, ears alert for any danger. “Vic, what happened? Are you going to be okay? Do you need a transfusion?”
“Just got banged up, Ralph.”
“I’d better stick with you. Werewolves need to pack together.” He was serious. Ralph Rogers, Werewolf With a Cause. He was a big, good-looking wolf, but a weregirl could only take so much dork in her life and Ralph threatened to exceed my limit on a nightly basis.
“I think we can handle it, Ralphie,” Maurice said, as he pointedly swished by. Ralph and Maurice didn’t get along. At all.
The med personnel got their paws, claws and talons on me, and I got hustled into a medical bay. They tried to keep Ralph and Maurice out, but Ralph was loud and insistent and Maurice was willing to be nasty and they knew it, so ultimately, it was an intimate group of ten by the time I got onto a bed.
Ralph tried to get next to me. Maurice blocked him every time and made it look accidental. Really, a werewolf doesn’t stand a chance against a vampire, especially a smart and sneaky vampire, and there weren’t a lot of earnest and apple-cheeked ones out there.
“Ralph, I really think I’m okay. I didn’t lose any blood, all my limbs are attached, and I can feel my bones setting themselves. Shouldn’t you be out on patrol or something?”
“It’s my night off.” Ralph gave Maurice a dirty look. “Though I see I shouldn’t have taken it.”
“Ralph, it was an ancient Sumerian demon crossed with some sort of slime monster. Maurice gave it his all, just like the rest of us.”
“I note he’s not the one injured.” Ralph made this sound like Maurice had tossed me to Slimy and then run off screaming.
“I wasn’t the one who went on Mister Monster’s Wild Ride,” Maurice said haughtily. “I also wasn’t the one listening to the Enforcement Band Radio to be able to intercept the object of my unrequited affections the moment she returned on premises.”
Ralph growled, always impressive in a werewolf. The doctor in charge had enough. “All personnel who aren’t medically trained and part of my med team, out. Now. That particularly means you, Agent Rogers.”
Ralph bared his teeth, shot me an expectant look that turned to doggy-disappointment when I didn’t demand he stay so we could hold paws, heaved the big sigh, then turned tail and left. The tension in the room dropped.
Maurice winked at me. “I’ll ride herd on Mister Lovestruck. I can see why you want the human when this is your most likely alternate.”
“I have options!”
“Uh huh. Let’s talk about why you and Ken didn’t work out, shall we?”
“Later,” the doctor snapped. “After she’s healed later.”
Maurice blew kisses to all and swished out after Ralph. The tension in the room went back to normal.
“How do you deal with them?” one of the nurses asked as they started the various tortures we called medical treatment.
“I tell myself it could always be worse.”
“How?”
“I could be living and working with my parents.”
Chapter 10
I was through with the torture that was medical care and ready to go back on duty. The only downside was that I knew without asking that Ralph was waiting for me. I prayed Maurice was, too.
I normally didn’t waste prayer on something minor, but it had been a long night and Ralph always jumped up and down on my last nerve. Besides, if things went according to how they’d seemed, Jack was going to be here soon, and I didn’t really want to have to introduce him to Ralph.
Of course, what I wanted and what was going to happen were rarely the same thing. Yahweh didn’t waste help on the minor stuff, which was why it never paid to bother him with it. This was one reason why plenty of other gods had a lot of Necropolite followers. Zeus and his gang were all over the little stuff, for example. But experience had taught me that when it was you against the Prince, it really paid to have the god willing to get down, dirty, and personally involved on your side.
However, I wasn’t facing the Prince, I was facing the werewolf version of the entire cast of Revenge of the Nerds rolled into one. And sure enough, he was in the waiting room, at full alert. And, also sure enough, so were Ken and Jack. My ex, my hoped for, and my never gonna happen, all together in one small space. Sometimes my unlife was too good to be true.
Maurice and Amanda were there, too, and Monty and Rover. They all looked worried.
“I wasn’t hurt all that badly,” I said as Rover undulated over for pets and scritchies. As beings with no limbs, white worms unlived for the gentle scratching. I had Rover rolling around in wormy ecstasy in no time.
“Yes, we know,” Ken said briskly. “We have a new problem.”
I picked Rover up and let him drape over me. This earned me a happy smile from Monty and a glare from Ralph. Jack, thankfully, didn’t look grossed out. He looked like Ken – worried.
“Human, undead or otherworldly?”
I asked while I scratched Rover under his chin and he gave me the white worm version of a love hug. Fortunately, Monty had him well trained, so no ribs cracked and I didn’t have trouble breathing.
“We don’t know,” Ken said.
“We got things squared away at the scene of the crime,” Jack added. “But….”
“But?”
Monty sighed. “But despite our cleanup efforts, there’s a residue that shouldn’t be there.”
“Aura, deposit, signature, impression, what?”
“Aura, as best we could tell,” Ken said.
“I couldn’t see it,” Jack said. “But I could feel it. It felt evil,” he added.
“That makes sense.” I wasn’t looking directly at Ralph, but I could see him out of the corner of my eye. His tail was practically wagging itself off his body. I heaved a sigh. “This sounds like a job for us werewolves.”
I knew I didn’t sound enthusiastic, but you’d never have been able to tell from Ralph’s reaction. He was practically bounding around the room with joy. “Vic and I will go check out the scene and report back.”
Maurice snorted, big time. “As if.”
“This is a werewolf job,” Ralph snarled.
“And under chapter three, section twenty-two, paragraph fifteen of the Enforcement Codebook, no agent will go to investigate any source likely to be attached to the Prince without at least two other agents of different species.” Ken could quote the Codebook verbatim and from memory. The reason none of us hated him for it was because he only did it in cases like this.
“That means you need a vampire and a lich along,” Maurice translated snidely. “Or a zombie, but, since we don’t have one handy, you’re stuck with us. And, since we’re so dedicated to the cause and there are two of you, you luck out and get three vampires, an extremely experienced lich, a white worm and, if I’m any judge, a human along for the ride. Aren’t you lucky?”
Ralph growled. “We don’t need any of you along. A werewolf pack together can never be defeated.”
“Um, right, Ralph.” I did not want to get into this subject with him here and now. Never, really. Ralph and I didn’t see nose-to-nose on this one, and I doubted we ever would. “However, since I’m the agent in charge of this case, I say who goes along. And considering what came out of there almost kicked all of our butts and then some, I want everyone named already with us. And, if we cross any zombies, succubae, witches, warlocks, altar-demons, fairies, mummies, skellies, hellhounds, daemon cats, or any other undead species on active duty, I want them along, too.”
“As far as anyone’s ever heard,” Maurice added, “two does not a pack make.”
Ralph grumbled and growled, but I ignored him and strode out of the waiting room. Happily Amanda caught up to me before I had to stop and ask which way was out. Overachieving sense of smell or not, hospitals messed with me big time.
“Jack’s taking this really well,” she murmured to me as we walked briskly to the moving sidewalk that would take us from the hospital wing and into Central HQ.
“Yeah, I hope he’s not faking it.”
“He’s not. We all scanned him. He’s interested, but not freaked out. Probably why your police chief partnered him with you.”
“We’ll see, I guess.” I tried not to be hopeful – interested in the whole undead thing and interested in a relationship with an undead were two different things.
We reached Central HQ, hopped off the moving sidewalk, and went to the dispatch desk. The Count wasn’t there, of course. He ran dispatch, but he ran it from higher up. He left the mundane portions of dispatch to those Enforcement personnel trained for it. Tonight we had three succubae, two banshees, and a couple of skeletons on duty. However, I wanted the being in charge.
“Is Clyde around?”
One of the banshees nodded and shrieked his name. Ralph and I just managed to cover our ears in time, and thankfully, Maurice covered Jack’s. Vampires could mute a banshee’s scream and liches and white worms were immune to it. But it was beyond painful for werewolves and humans.
“A little warning next time would be nice,” Ralph growled. I didn’t contradict him.
Clyde lumbered around from the back. He was an older mummy originally from Egypt. Amazingly, not all mummies were – they were dotted all over the Eastern Hemisphere. But we got a steady migration – Necropolis was considered newer and more vibrant, the place to go if you really wanted to make it as an undead and set yourself apart from the rest of the deaders. If you could make it here, you could make it anywhere, kind of thing.
Clyde had come out before it was cool, though. When Necropolis formed, centuries before, he’d volunteered to come and help get things set up, and he’d never left. He and the Count were close friends, which helped. Between the two of them, they knew everything that had gone on in and around Necropolis. H.P. had them guest lecture a lot.
“Hello, Victoria,” Clyde said slowly. Mummies spoke faster than golem, but neither were speed demons verbally. “Glad to see you back to normal.”
“Me, too.” I ignored Ralph’s grumbling about how human form wasn’t really normal for a werewolf and forged on. “Has H.P. briefed you or the Count about what we encountered tonight?”
He nodded. “Yes. Very unusual.”
“Getting more unusual. Ken and Jack found what we think is residual aura left after some heavy-duty cleanup. We’re heading back to check it out, but do you have anything for us before we go?”
Clyde was quiet for a few moments. “Take along a hellhound. And a daemon cat.”
Ralph’s growling got louder. I continued to ignore. “Who’s on duty?”
Clyde brought one of the banshees over. I covered my ears instinctively. I noted that Jack did the same. He was a fast learner.
The banshee did her shriek of the dead thing. After the sounds stopped reverberating in my head I heard the sound of toenails clicking on the marble floors. So it wasn’t a surprise to see a big cat and dog skid around the corner and come to an impressive, screeching halt right in front of me. They each put up a paw and saluted, too.
“Hansel, Gretel, good to see you, and glad you’re here.”
Jack sidled up to me. “Um, Hansel and Gretel?”
“Code names,” Hansel’s middle head said. The right and left heads usually let the middle head do the talking – it stressed other beings out a little less.
“We were really siblings, in the old days,” Gretel said in the half-snarl, half-purr that was daemon cat speech. She stood up on her hind legs and put her paw on Hansel’s middle head. “What’s the situation, Major?”
Jack looked around and then stared at me. “Major?
I shrugged. “Down here, yeah. I’ll try not be insulted by the shocked look on your face.”
“We use military titles,” Maurice said. “It makes it less confusing when we chat with humans. For example, Amanda and I are both Captains. Ken’s also a Major, because he’s an overachiever.”
“Heading fast for Lieutenant Colonel,” I added. Hey, Ken and I weren’t an item any more, but we were still friends and I was proud of him.
Jack gaped, then looked around. “Monty? And, uh, him?” he pointed to Ralph.
“I’m the Major General of Dirt Corps. I’m dotted line into Necropolis Enforcement, in that sense.”
“And Ralphie’s a Second Lieutenant,” Maurice said. “Though he acts like he’s the being in charge.”
“Werewolves don’t need ranks,” Ralph snarled. “We have a pack leader and we follow his lead.”
“Her lead,” Amanda said sweetly. “Since Vic’s the leader of this team.”
Ralph started to argue but I gave him a long look and he shut up. “Let’s get moving. We can brief Hansel and Gretel on the way.”
Chapter 11
“You know, we should get H.P.,” Amanda said. “Or at least Edgar.”
“Why Edgar?” Maurice asked. “This isn’t his specialty.”
I thought about it. “Yeah, but somethin
g’s wrong. What we did should have left no trace. But there’s a strong one if Jack can feel it.”
“Thanks a lot,” Jack said.
“Not an insult,” Ken replied. “But human senses are weaker than undead senses. If you can feel it, it’s strong.”
“Nice to know I’m the team mine canary.” At least he said it with a grin.
I activated my wrist com. “Count?”
“Yes, Agent Wolfe? Is there a reason we’re chatting or do you just feel lonely and unloved?”
“I’d like to have Edgar with us.”
There was a significant pause. “Not H.P.?”
“Well, H.P. did his thing earlier and I know he’s having fun helping indoctrinate the new recruits we bagged. Besides, something’s off, and that usually means human intervention in some way.”
“You’re the field agent in charge.” The Count didn’t make this sound like a stirring endorsement.
I pulled out the big gun. “Ken agrees with me.”
“Oh, fine.”
I hated having to do it, or admit it, but Ken was the best agent we had. He was probably the best undead in centuries. I knew the Count was grooming him to be his replacement. Even eternal undeads can crave retirement, after all.
Ken had the whole package – handsome, brilliant, fastest learner around, photographic memory, natural leader. One of the few newer undeads who could interact naturally with the ones who’d been undead for millennia as easily as one formed the day before. Compassionate and caring without being sappy, gentle and kind while never being weak, never made someone else feel like they were less than he was unless it was necessary for his team’s survival. And yet, somehow, I’d dumped him. And didn’t regret the choice. Maurice felt there was something seriously wrong with me, and he was probably right.
“Edgar will meet you outside the OLOC,” the Count informed me.
“What’s he doing in Prosaic City?” There was a significant lack of an answer. I did the math. “H.P. was already worried and he asked Edgar to take a look, right?” The academics always stuck together.