6 Under The Final Moon

by Hannah Jayne

  I put my one hand on my hip. “Thank you so much, oh, white knight. First of all, there were no werewolves. Second of all, it was a dog. A three-headed dog. Like Cerberus.”

  “Well, multiple heads or not on your Rin Tin Tin, we should get that bite cleaned up.” He stepped closer. “Doesn’t look like you’ll need any stitches.”

  I jerked away. “Three heads. I saw it.”

  Will laced his arm through mine, and as annoyed as I was with him, I let him lead me to my third-floor apartment. We had just stepped out of the elevator when my front door opened and Vlad poked his great white head out. I saw him sniff, his eyes lighting up.

  “Who’s bleeding?”

  It’s nice to be welcomed home by a roommate. It’s less nice when you’re welcomed home because you smell like the vampire equivalent of a steak dinner.

  Vlad’s face fell when he saw me. “Oh, it’s you.”

  Will and I stepped into the house, and I rolled my eyes. “Even if it weren’t me, you could smell but not taste, you know.”

  Vlad shrugged and slunk back to his computer.

  “Sophie Lawson, what have you gotten yourself into now?” Nina pressed her fingers to her forehead. “I swear I’m not going to let you out alone anymore unless you’re fully engulfed in bubble wrap and a helmet.”

  “She was bitten by a dog,” Will said, making a beeline for our medical kit.

  I yanked open the fridge and plied ChaCha with a half-pound of roast beef before flopping down on the couch. My adrenaline was starting to wear off, and I was beginning to feel the sting and ache of my run-in with the dog.

  “It wasn’t just a dog, Neens.”

  “That’s right. It was multi-headed,” Will reported as he came back with the kit.

  Vlad’s dark eyes appeared over his computer screen. “Multi-headed?”

  “Three-headed.”

  Vlad and Nina exchanged looks while Will handed me a wet washcloth and went to work on my shoulder.

  No one spoke for a beat.

  I wiped the cool washcloth over my brow and broke the silence. “It’s obvious what’s going on here.”

  Will, Vlad, and Nina all swung to face me.

  “The gates of Hell have been opened and Cerberus was sent to find and kill me.”

  Nina arched a brow. “Cerberus? He had a name?”

  “Cerberus is the three-headed dog that guards the gates of Hades, according to Greek mythology.”

  “You’re jumping to conclusions, Soph. It was just a dog.”

  “I didn’t jump to any conclusions. Conclusions came snarling and snapping at me in a murderous rage that may or may not have been rabid. With three”—I held up my fingers again—“heads.”

  “The whole thing happened pretty fast, love, and I know you were frightened. Are you sure it just didn’t seem like the dog was multi-meloned?”

  “I saw what I saw.”

  “A three-headed dog,” Vlad confirmed. “You know what that means.”

  I narrowed my eyes, daring him to say it. He silently mouthed the word, Armageddon.

  “Okay, so you’re telling me that a three-headed dog chased you from the dog park, and ChaCha”—Nina pointed to my heroic pooch, who was now sprawled out on the floor, giving her lady bits a good licking—“all four and a half pounds of her, came to your rescue.”

  I nodded.

  “From a three-headed dog.”

  I looked at Will and Vlad for confirmation or support, but got nothing. “I don’t see why this is so hard to believe. I’ve been chased by werewolves, witches—hell, Neens, you’re a vampire.”

  “But Campos—or whatever the crap you called him—is a creature in Greek mythology. And he’s the guardian of Hell.”

  “Maybe the bloke got fired? Doing some work on the side?”

  Vlad huffed. “I think we’re all forgetting Occam’s razor here.” He looked at all three of us, then rolled his eyes when no one agreed. “You know, the simplest explanation is generally the right one?”

  I crossed my arms in front of my chest. “So what’s the simplest explanation, Vlad? We’re hanging on the precipice of the end of the world?”

  “Of course not. I was just messing with you. It’s obvious you were hallucinating.” He offered me an apologetic frown and patted me gently on my good shoulder. “It was bound to happen. Your grip on reality was tenuous at best.”

  I slapped his hand away. “I was not hallucinating! Did I hallucinate this?” I swung so my back—scratched, shredded—was visible. “And this?” I jerked a thumb toward the now bandaged wound on my shoulder. “Clearly a dog bite.”

  “A dog,” Vlad stressed.

  “It was one dog,” I challenged back. “Three heads.”

  Will snapped the emergency kit closed and looked at me. “You doing okay? Want to get a bite or a lager before?”

  “Before what?”

  “Before we go looking for a three-headed dog.”

  I sped into my bedroom, threw on my best pair of mythical-dog-chasing pants, and sucked in a hard breath.

  Cerberus was a three-headed dog. The guardian of the gates of Hell. I slunk down on my bed and pressed my eyes shut, trying to call up the scene in my head. I saw his huge paws closing the distance between us. Smelled the salty stench of dog breath as his jaws snapped shut just behind my left ear. I heard the sound of my flesh puncturing as his incisors sunk in, then the overwhelming penny scent of my own blood. But had it just been a dog?

  I opened my eyes and blinked at myself in the mirror. What happened to the non-jumping-to-conclusions, cooler, more Zen Sophie Lawson?

  It was just a dog, I told myself.

  It was just a dog.

  Once I got my breathing under control, I stepped into the living room, where Nina and Will were in the kitchen, Nina rifling through the freezer while Vlad looked on contemptuously between text messages.

  “We’re not going to look for the dog,” I said with as much authority as I could muster.

  Will blinked at me. “Why’s that, love?”

  The bandage over my bite mark itched. “Maybe I was wrong. Maybe it was just a regular dog, you know? I could have just—I mean, I’ve had a lot on my mind so maybe I was just . . .”

  Nina turned to face me, a kind-of-proud grin splitting across her face. “A kinder, gentler Sophie.”

  “I thought she was more kick-assier,” Vlad grumbled.

  The doorbell rang and while my hackles went up, a grin split across Will’s face.

  “Pizza’s here.”

  My head was swimming and I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to straighten up.

  “The guardian of the gates of Hell has escaped and you’re ordering pizza?”

  Will tipped the pizza guy and immediately helped himself to a slice, gesturing toward the TV. “And watching a game. It’s not Arsenal, but at least it’s football.”

  I stared at him, hands on my hips, for a quick beat before I relented and helped myself to a slice.

  “And by the way,” he continued, “we’re going after that dog. Got any beer?”

  The bite of pizza I had already taken was like wet sand in my mouth. “Will, I told you—maybe I was wrong.”

  “You know you’re not. Anyone else I would doubt, but because it’s you . . .”

  He let the word trail off and I felt steam rising in my gut. “Because it’s me? Like, because I’m such a klutz? Or because I’m the kind of person that dogs and people want to kill on a regular basis because I’m such a jerk? What is it, Will? Come on. Out with it.”

  Will went from leaning toward me to shrinking back. “Is it your time of the month or something, love?”

  I slammed my pizza slice back into the box and fumed. “That’s your response? I was almost killed by a three-headed dog today. A three-headed dog that almost ripped the throat out of my little teeny baby and you ask if I’m on my period?”

  Will finished his slice and wiped his hands on his jeans. When he was done chewing, he glanced at me wit
h an exasperated expression. “I believe that you were chased by a three-headed dog because you’re the Vessel of Souls and I am your Guardian. Your klutziness and general jerkiness did not factor into my statement. And it’s obvious by your delightful demeanor that your hormones are up to par.” He offered a Styrofoam container to me. “Hot wing?”

  I grumbled, but took the container of hot wings.

  “So much for going Zen, huh?” Vlad called from his place behind his computer screen.

  I flipped Vlad off, pulled two bottles of beer from the kitchen, and flopped down next to Will on the couch. I offered him a bottle. He opened both of ours with his keychain bottle opener and cheers-ed me.

  I took a long pull on my beer.

  I really wanted to remain calm. I really wanted to be nonchalant and believe that the three-headed dog was a figment of my imagination or that I had mistakenly eaten a handful of hallucinogenic mushrooms.

  Two more monster-sized swigs and I was no calmer.

  “So?” I said finally.

  Will turned and looked at me as if surprised that I was still there. I snatched up the remote and turned off the game.

  “Oy!” he cried.

  “We need a plan, Will. Do you really think we’re just going to run outside, shake a box of Milk-Bones and hope Cerberus comes running?”

  “You didn’t need to turn off the game.”

  I pinned him with a glare. “You’re supposed to be my Guardian. So”—I gestured toward him—“guard!”

  “I’ve been a great Guardian. You’ve haven’t died yet now, have you?”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “Even if we can attract Cerberus, what then? He doesn’t talk.”

  “We can get the pooch to lead us to someone who does.”

  Bat wings jabbed in my stomach and I sucked in a shaky breath. Cornering a mythical dog—even a multi-meloned one, as Will put it—was one thing, but letting that dog lead us to . . .

  My father’s image flashed in my mind and my heartbeat sped up. If this dog really was Cerberus, the Hell hound, then that meant—could that mean—? I stepped backward, my whole body breaking into a cold sweat.

  Will cocked his head, the gold flecks in his eyes dancing as he studied me. “What’s wrong?”

  I swallowed heavily. “Maybe I was wrong. Maybe it wasn’t—maybe it wasn’t a three-headed dog, you know? It was really fast and I was scared so it could have been—it could have been just me.”

  “You’re back to second-guessing yourself now?”

  “Well, really, what are the odds?”

  A tiny smile played on Will’s lips. “What are the odds, says the woman who holds all the departed souls of the universe?”

  “I just—I don’t know if I’m ready for this, Will.”

  “Ready for what, love? We don’t have any idea what’s going on yet.”

  I looked at Will and he stared back at me. I knew I didn’t have to say a single word for him to know everything I was feeling. Was Cerberus really after me? Had my father really sent him? And if so—why? Why now?

  Suddenly, my skin felt too tight. “I just—I don’t know if—”

  Will took both my hands in his and led me around the couch, giving me a soft shove down so that I was sitting. My breath was coming quick and tight now, and in one fell swoop he pushed my head between my legs.

  “This isn’t really helping,” I said to our filthy carpet.

  “Breathe slowly, or deeply or something.”

  I sat up and glared at him. “Don’t you have to have paramedic training?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know what to do about mythical panic attacks.” He paused for a beat before breaking out into an enormous, annoying grin.

  “What?”

  “Feeling better now, aren’t you?”

  I flopped backward on the couch, rubbing little circles at my temples with my index fingers. “Okay, what do we do? How do we go about finding this thing? I don’t think there’s any chance we could just head down to the nearest Kinkos and run off a few lost-dog fliers, huh?”

  “‘Have you seen my three-headed dog?’ I suppose it would get people’s attention.”

  “People are crazy about their—” I felt my brows furrow. “That’s weird.”

  “What’s that, love? Being attacked by a Hell hound on Fulton Avenue?”

  “Remember when I told you about the woman that I met? Right before the run-in with poochie?”

  Will nodded.

  “She said that her dog was playing with a group of other dogs at the park. She kind of just vaguely pointed when I asked which one was hers.”

  “And was one of them him?”

  “No.” I swung my head and turned to face Will. “That’s the thing. Right before I heard Cerberus behind me, I saw the woman. She was walking up Hayes, leaving the park, but she didn’t have a dog with her. She didn’t have anyone with her.”

  “Do you think she was with Cerberus?”

  “Maybe she was with him, or maybe she just told him to sic me.” I shook my head. “I don’t know, though. He came out of nowhere. But, anything is possible.”

  Will gently touched the gauze that was puckered around the bite mark on my shoulder. “Anything is around here.”

  I felt myself draw into Will’s sweet, comforting eyes even as the wound burned underneath his fingertips. “Maybe some meat?” Will blinked.

  “Excuse me?”

  I pulled away, trying to break the moment. “Maybe we should get some meat. That will help bring out the dog, right?” I crossed into the kitchen and began rifling through the fridge. Behind me, Will raked a hand through his hair, the movement reflected in the stainless steel oven.

  “If a Hell hound eats meat. I was thinking more small children.”

  In my imagination, our refrigerator is always stocked with healthful snacks like yogurt and fruit, and maybe the occasional lone cupcake or flaky custard tart. In actuality, our fridge is one part science experiment, two parts phlebotomy storage. Tonight there were three Styrofoam take-out containers stacked one on top of the other—though I can’t remember the last time I ate out—a half-can of chocolate frosting, something that was a peach and now might be an avocado, and Nina’s neat stack of blood bags, alphabetized from A to O. There was also a handful of condiments and a box of baking soda that had come with the fridge.

  “I’m not sure anything here would attract a dog.”

  “You don’t have any steak or anything in the freezer? Some bacon or something?”

  “I gave it to ChaCha. Wait!” I snapped. “I’ve got burgers.”

  “Great. I’m going to grab my coat and some rope in case we have to wrestle the bugger. You warm up a few of those burgers, really get the meat smell going. Maybe we can hold them out of the car window or something.”

  I nodded, impressed. “Look at you with a plan.”

  Will closed the front door and I got to work frying up four burger patties, flopping the finished products onto a paper plate. I grabbed half a roll of paper towels and met him in the hallway, where he was coiling a length of rope over one shoulder, Indiana Jones style. His eyebrows dove down when he saw me.

  “What do you have?”

  “Meat.” I held the plate up closer for him to inspect.

  He wrinkled his nose. “Doesn’t smell like meat.”

  “It’s vegan.”

  “What?”

  “They’re veggie burgers. But they look and taste just like real meat.”

  “In what dimension?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Are we going to do this or not?”

  “Come on. One three-headed dog who hopefully has a taste for soy and cardboard, coming up.”

  FIVE

  Will and I were silent as he started the car and pulled out into the cool night. I balanced the bait plate on my lap, sitting up straight, my eyes darting toward the dark crevices of every building we passed, straining to see into the hulking shadows cast by parked cars.

  “I don’t see him
.”

  Will turned toward the park and nudged me. “Roll down the window.”

  “Oh, right. The dog will be attracted to the smell.”

  “I don’t care about the dog. I don’t want that noxious odor seeping into Nigella’s interior.”

  Nigella was Will’s beloved car. She was a broken-down Porsche from the seventies that sported a maroon and rust paint job and deep bucket seats lined in the most horrendous Pepto pink and white leather. As far as I was concerned, Nigella had two wheels in the scrap metal pile and the other two on a banana peel, but Will protested, certain he would restore her to her former glory. He hadn’t done so much as put up an air-freshener cone. But, she ran, and wasn’t spray-painted across the hood with graffiti that said VAMPIRE, so she was one up on my car.

  I picked up one of the glossy veggie patties between my forefinger and thumb and hung it, and my head, out the window.

  “Uh, here, doggie. Here, pup.” I whistled. “Here, boy.”

  “Throw the burger.”

  “What?”

  “Crumble it up and throw a bit of the burger. Maybe it’ll lure him out.”

  I sighed as Will slowed to a crawl near the corner where Cerberus had started to follow me. “Here, doggie.”

  I crumpled up the faux burger and tossed pieces of it toward the sidewalk, the grayish pieces falling with a greasy smack on the concrete.

  “This isn’t working, Will. There’s no one out there.”

  Will leaned his head out his open window. “Here, pup. Here, dog. I’ve got some delicious, delicious Vessel of Souls just waiting for you to take a bite!”

  “Thanks a lot.”

  “It’s just a ruse, love. I would never feed you to a three-headed dog, you know that.”

  I slunk back into my seat. “We’re going to have to get out of the car. Hey.” I pointed. “Over there. There’s a spot.”

  We strolled down to the dog park in silence, me carrying my plate of veggie burgers, Will whistling, rustling bushes as he passed them.

  “Which way did the lady with no dog go?” Will asked once we’d crossed into the park.

  “I met her here. We were talking right here and the dogs were playing over there. At least, the dog she pointed out as being hers was playing over there.”