by Sasha White
Sadly, the main option was to call in. I was still loathe to call in angelic support, some due to pride, most for the same reasons I’d given the Count earlier – the dragon wasn’t doing anything wrong or even dangerous. Well, not any more.
It, like the rest of the crowd, had expressed its displeasure when Linus and Cleo had stopped playing, but if we ignored the flattened gazebo, it was probably the best behaved being in attendance. However, spell or no spell, I didn’t think that would last the moment it felt threatened. And dragons always felt threatened by angels.
I decided to go for the lesser of two evils and pulled out my phone. “Darlene, how goes it?”
“Just fine over here, Detective Wolfe. Still waiting for you to get the crowd to disperse.”
“Working on it. So, I’m wondering – has anyone called to share that they’re seeing something, ah, odd, unusual, or scary in the friendly skies or on the ground?”
Darlene was quiet for a moment. “No. We haven’t gotten any calls at all, not even about the crowd.”
“No one’s called to ask why there was an impromptu, and very loud, rock concert going on?”
“No.” Darlene managed a lot of worry in that one syllable.
“Okay. And none of our other uniforms have called in anything unusual?”
“No. No one’s called in at all.”
The entire situation coalesced into a firm certainty. I knew what was going on. I didn’t like it, mind you, but at least I now felt I had all the facts to work with.
“Interesting. Humor me and please request that all cars call in. Let me know who manages that and where they are. Wherever they are, make sure they stay there.”
“Why, Detective?”
“We have a massive and very specific kind of spell going on and I want to keep as many of my police brethren out of harm’s way and available to back me up as possible.”
“Tell whoever responds to get wax or an equivalent into their ears as fast as possible,” Ralph added.
“Could you ask Detective Rogers why he’s giving that directive?” Darlene asked.
I didn’t have to ask. Clearly Ralph had put two and two together and come up with the same concept I had. “Because we suspect we have people playing an extremely powerful siren song – and that means anyone who can hear it is at risk of death.”
Chapter 7
Once a being becomes undead they also become immune to certain things. Most can’t be lured by succubae or incubi, it’s hard to be haunted by ghosts or wraiths, and siren songs and will-o’-the-wisps don’t really work as a draw. Plus, once you’re undead you can’t switch races, so if a vampire bites a werewolf or vice versa, for example, you don’t get a werevamp. You get a pissed off werewolf or vampire and a fight where fur and bits of batwings fly.
Based on location and the fact that none of my team were affected, whatever was going on didn’t seem to be aimed at the undead plane. Dragons fell onto the undead side of the house, so to speak, but they were far removed, and ours was clearly impressionable, at least where this music was concerned. Which begged a question.
“If you fear infection, Detective Wolfe, why are those of inside headquarters unaffected?” Darlene asked, before I could ask myself the beggar.
Oh well, no time like the present. “Necropolis Enforcement cast a very powerful protection spell over police HQ. As long as you’re inside, you’re safe from pretty much anything external.” That had been cast the day after we averted Armageddon, to avoid having someone carrying a piece of the Prince, or any of his Major Minions, inside them and into police headquarters. I was all for this – one evil partner I’d fallen in love with was more than enough.
“What about the perps?” Darlene was asking the hard questions tonight.
“They’re safe, too. The protection spell will also keep out most perps who are carrying something extra along. Not all, but most.”
“I assume the Chief is aware?”
“I’m sure he will be the moment we’re off the phone.”
“I see. Carry on, Detective Wolfe. I’ll advise you of how many unaffected officers we have available to you.”
“Please and thank you.”
I looked back at the dragon. It was sitting in a crouched but settled position on the crushed gazebo, tail wrapped around itself. It looked like a giant, horsy cat, truthfully. Its head was still bobbing in time with the beat.
Proving that we had a siren song going, as if we needed any more confirmation, none of the humans mentioned or seemed aware of the dragon. All they were aware of was the music.
Siren songs weren’t in vogue these days, but they’d been all the rage several millennia ago. But currently popular and incredibly powerful didn’t go hand in paw. Siren songs lured humans to their deaths – intentionally. Sure, the side of good used them to lure humans to safety, but those songs never seemed as powerful or effective as the ones that were deadly.
The level of single-minded-focus from every human in what appeared to be a large part of Prosaic City meant the siren song was of a killing level. That it had lured a dragon meant it had potential to affect the denizens of Necropolis as well.
The lure was clear – Linus and Cleo, or rather, the music they were creating. But the kids had only moved because I’d made them do so. So did this mean the original expectation was that the kids would go somewhere? Or was the idea that they stay in one spot? We didn’t have enough information to know, yet, but these were questions I knew we’d have to answer, and soon.
But first, I wanted another question answered, the one I’d had a little earlier. “Does anyone here know how to tell a dragon’s age?”
“Why?” Maurice asked. “Are you going to see if it’s out past curfew?”
“No idea,” Sexy Cindy said. “I haven’t taken any dragon classes at the University. Was more interested in all the How to Survive courses.”
“Denizens of the Draconian Plane hasn’t been offered since we joined up,” Freddy added. “Pity. I’ve been planning to take it.”
“Who’s the professor?” It was a long shot, but if Freddy remembered the prof’s name, I knew who to ask the Count to send over. We now had a dragon on the ground – sending angels would mean we potentially had trampled humans on the ground. I wanted an expert in dragon handling, but short of calling Samael and asking him to drop by, I was about as much help with the dragon lore as Sexy Cindy.
Freddy shook his head. “No idea, sorry.”
Oh well, I’d just ask the Count to send over whoever he felt was an expert and probably end up with the same being. I’d look dim and unaware, but better that than trampled or deep fried.
“How is this any better?” Cleo asked before I could hit my wrist-com. “I mean, I don’t see us getting to safety or being able to stop playing any time soon. And are you a werewolf like she is?” she asked Ralph, as she jerked her head towards me. She didn’t sound scared. At all.
“I can try to talk to it, animal to animal,” Ralph offered as he ignored Cleo and I sniffed her as surreptitiously as possible. Nope, she still didn’t smell like minion, Major or Minor.
“Dragons can speak,” I reminded him.
“Not all of them.” Ralph nudged up against me. “I think you need to switch to human or wolf.”
“Oh, right.” I was distracted enough that I’d stayed in werewolf form. “Do you think the siren song is affecting me?”
“I think the entire situation is affecting you, me, and everyone else. Wish me luck, and be ready to run for the Savior Spray.”
“Does it work on dragon flame?” I asked as I switched back to human form and put my street clothes back on, while Ralph trotted over to the biggest music lover in Prosaic City.
“Let’s hope we don’t have to find out,” Sexy Cindy said. “You gonna call the Count and get us some backup or at least a safe way out of here?”
Ralph sat on his haunches and wuffed at the dragon before I could hit my wrist-com. The dragon gave him what I chose to think was
a friendly look. Ralphed wuffed again, then started to speak the animal version of Esperanto, which meant a lot of use of the ears, tail, eyebrows, and such, along with basic sounds.
The dragon’s head never stopped bobbing to the beat, but it did reply in kind.
“What’re they saying?” Sexy Cindy asked.
“Ralph welcomed the dragon to the city, identified as law enforcement, and asked for its name. The dragon thanked him for the welcome, said it was a law-abiding citizen, and shared that its name is Chrystalael, meaning Golden Talon. I think that’s a family name, because the dragon said that Ralph should call him Buddy.”
“Buddy?” Maurice asked. “Since when is that a dragon name?”
“Since now, I guess.” I wasn’t going to argue with any dragon’s choice of name, nickname, or alias. I liked my fur right where it was – on my body.
Ralph and Buddy continued to chat. But Buddy’s name had given me an idea. We didn’t need a dragon wrangler in the same way if Buddy could communicate with us without too much issue. We needed someone who’d allow Linus and Cleo to stop playing without the crowd killing us and each other.
Finally, I knew who to request as I hit my wrist-com. “Count, I’d like another specialist sent in.”
“And, just who would that be, Agent Wolf? I assume it’s not the Protocols Chairbeing.”
“No. I want someone a lot more reclusive. I need Teegor.”
Chapter 8
The Count was quiet for a few moments. “The counter spell didn’t work, Agent Wolfe. You realize Teegor and the Bard created that together.”
“Yes, but I think it’s going to take something other than a spell. I think it’s going to require some kind of hands-on approach.”
“And angels are simply out of your question, Agent Wolfe? Keeping in mind that I’m aware that our dragon visitor is on the ground now.”
“Hence why I don’t want angels. Ralph’s having a pleasant ‘new around here?’ conversation with Buddy, and I’d like to keep things friendly.”
“Buddy?”
“It’s his name, or nickname. From the Chrystalael family.”
“Oh. Oh dear.”
“Oh dear?”
“Yes, angels would be, perhaps, unwise.”
“Want to share why?”
“Because the Chrystalael line are direct descendants of Samael himself.”
“I thought that was true of all dragons.”
“Yes, but some are closer to him than others. This line is by far the closest. Can you determine Buddy’s age?”
“Count, it’s like we’re telepathically linked.”
“I do hope not, Agent Wolfe.”
“I’ll be insulted later. No, I don’t know how, but I was just wondering that myself. I don’t know who would know how to determine it, either. As Freddy just pointed out, the dragon classes at the University haven’t been offered recently.”
“Because our professor is on hiatus.”
“Visiting Samael?”
“No. Visiting ancestors on the angelic plane.”
Before I could ask who the dragon expert was and if they were angelicized, too, Ralph trotted over. “Buddy’s able to understand, and hear, every word you’re saying, Vic. He’s about nine hundred in dragon years, which makes him the equivalent of a human of eighteen years.”
“That explains it. Great, Count, I think we can move on as long as Teegor is on his way.”
“He’s been requested. I’m sure he’ll join you shortly.”
“No rush. Just have a couple kids here playing enchanted instruments that are creating a siren song that’s drawn what seems like every human in Prosaic City and Buddy. I’m sure we’re good if Teegor takes his sweet time.”
“I’m not the one who refused angelic assistance earlier, Agent Wolfe.”
“True enough. Call me a scaredy-wolf for not wanting to have a major flaming incident here.”
I heard a voice in the background. “Ah. Clyde asked me to share that he’s going to contact our dragon expert and see if we can bring her back from her visit early.”
“Go team. Tell Clyde he’s my hero. Wolfe out.” I turned to Ralph. “Teegor’s on his way, maybe. A dragon expert might be on her way, or might not. Apparently it’s on everyone’s whim tonight.”
Ralph’s tongue lolled out of his mouth, which was a wolf way of laughing. “I think we’re okay. Buddy shared that the ability to speak to humans and other undeads is the slowest part of dragon maturity. He’s here because he likes the music.”
“I guessed without you and Buddy bonding.”
Ralph rolled his eyes. “Buddy’s aware that he shouldn’t like the music.”
“How did he hear it?”
The dragon looked at me and hung his head. Then went back to watching Linus and Cleo “playing”.
I thought about it, specifically about our dragon’s relative age. “Buddy, were you cruising the Earthly plane, even though you’re not supposed to be here?”
Buddy looked back at me and nodded. Then looked around in a worried fashion.
“He’s good, isn’t he?” I asked Ralph.
“Yeah. From what I’ve gotten anyway. I don’t smell minion or any other form of the Prince on him, and he insists he’s not here to cause any trouble, which, considering how he’s behaving, I believe. He’s sorry about the gazebo, by the way, and offered to pay for its repair. With Dragon Gold.”
“We’ll take it, the Count can transfer it into human money. Buddy doesn’t want to get in trouble, does he?”
“I wouldn’t think so, he’s here against orders.”
Which could, hopefully, be good for us. “Good.” I stepped closer to our new dragon friend. “Hey, Buddy, as long as you remain a good, law-abiding citizen – in keeping with the laws of this realm and the Undead realm – then we’ll do our best not to get you into trouble with Samael and whoever else.”
Buddy gave me a grateful look and nodded. He looked at Ralph and made some noises. I could interpret them, but let Ralph do the honors.
“Interesting,” Ralph said, as the rest of our little group of non-affected-by-the-song beings came closer. “Buddy says that the music is increasing its range the longer Linus and Cleo play. He’s pretty sure it’s going to spread past Prosaic City itself within an hour, maybe less.”
“I called Dispatch,” Freddy said. “Darlene says that the only unaffected cops in the entire city are those who are in Prosaic City P.D. headquarters. She’s got them all standing ready to assist.”
Freddy looked like he was going to say something more, but he froze, mouth open. I’d seen him look like this before – when he’d met Merc and L.K. for the first time.
Ergo, I had a good guess who was coming up behind me. I turned to see Teegor standing nearby. Because of his influence, he’d ascended to demigod-hood, but you’d never know to look at him.
He was dressed pretty much how he’d appeared as a human, including horn-rimmed glasses, a suit and tie, loafers, and a wide, ear-to-ear smile.
“Hi, Victoria,” he said cheerfully, his Texas twang still intact. “I guess we have a situation, don’t we?”
“That’s…that’s…that’s…” Freddy got out.
Teegor’s grin widened. “Aw, thanks.” He walked over and shook Freddy’s hand. “Nice to be working with you, Freddy, isn’t it?” He turned to Sexy Cindy. “And you’re Cindy, right?” She nodded. “Pretty name for a pretty girl.” He nodded to Maurice and Amanda. “How’re my favorite vamps doing tonight?”
“We’re great,” Maurice said. “We’d be better if someone could figure out how to stop the siren song in such a way as we don’t get burned or trampled unalive.”
Ralph looked over his shoulder and rolled his eyes. Teegor laughed. “Ralphie’s not worried, Maurice. I’m sure we’ll all be fine. Ralphie, who’s your friend?”
“This is Buddy,” Ralph said.
Teegor chuckled. “Great name.”
Buddy looked straight at Teegor, eyes wide.
For the first time, I felt he wasn’t hearing the music. “Holly!” It was the first clear human word I’d heard Buddy utter.
“I know who this is,” Linus said, voice vibrating with awe. “Why do you call him Teegor? That’s not his name.”
“No, it’s an abbreviation of his title. Kids, meet the guy you, and every other rock music hopeful, pray to every night and before every gig. In other words, please allow me to introduce the one and only Teenaged God of Rock.”
Chapter 9
Teegor laughed. “You know I don’t stand on ceremony, Victoria.” He looked around and whistled. “We sure have a gathering here, don’t we?”
“We do, and we have what we’re pretty sure are instruments sent to us special delivery from the Prince.”
“Who’s the Prince?” Cleo asked.
“The Prince of Darkness,” Ralph answered.
“The ultimate evil,” Teegor added as he examined her tambourine.
“You mean the Devil,” Cleo said.
We did a collective group sigh. “No. Satan works for Yahweh,” I explained. “Lucifer is a fallen angel, but he’s not in charge of Hell – he works for the Prince.”
The kids looked confused. Sexy Cindy shook her head. “You guys want a quick course in the Relativity of Actual Religions or do you want to get to stop shaking your groove things?”
“We’ll trust you on…whatever,” Linus said quickly. Cleo nodded, unwillingly if I was any judge.
“Good, we feel so honored.” These two kids were really helping me to channel my inner feline.
Teegor just chuckled as he looked around. “Let’s deal with the biggest part of this problem first.” He put his hands out, like he was making the “whoa” sign. A sound emanated from him, low at first, but growing in power.
There’s such a thing as a pure note, a sound so perfect that it compels any being at any time to stop and listen. Such a note was emanating from Teegor.
Everyone stopped. The kids stopped playing their instruments, my team stopped quietly talking or bickering, and the crowd stopped rocking or fighting or speaking. Every being within hearing distance was silent, just listening.