A Mongrel's Curse (Breed Matters Book 1)

Home > Other > A Mongrel's Curse (Breed Matters Book 1) > Page 7
A Mongrel's Curse (Breed Matters Book 1) Page 7

by Paul C. Middleton


  "One sec, Sergeant. Officer, you are going to organize a rescue and recovery team. NOW. Move it!"

  I disconnected the call and ran towards my house. There wasn't a heap of time to act on what I'd figured out. I quickly scrolled through the Divination section of my phone book. Yeah, some people have Black Book, Friends, Family and Blocked as sections in their phone book. Mine was a hell of a lot more diverse.

  Damn. I had no-one nearby who owed me a favor. I hoped the SSC had a diviner on retainer.

  When I reached the house, I had to deal with a furious Sergeant. "You don't give orders..." He suddenly cut off as I punched him just hard enough to knock the wind out of his sails.

  "I figured it out, Sergeant. O'Conner would only be a part of this facade if his family were under threat. The magistrates are normal humans with no connections to the supernatural before their appointment. You need to get them outta wherever they are. Make sure the team has a Diviner with them."

  I might have hit him a little harder than I intended. He had fallen to his knees, gasping, as I talked to him. The Sergeant looked up at me like madness had taken me for a minute, then his eyes widened. "Give me five minutes. Then we'll talk." Nodding, I rang the lasses, giving them the all clear.

  I then walked up to my front door and opened it. The place was a mess. From the disaster area that had been my house, the constables must have searched the entire place. I wasn't worried about legal problems. There were some questionable items of mine in the area, that may have found and confiscated but I'd get them back and certified as legal after this clusterfuck experiment.

  Saving a Magistrate's family generally gave you a couple of perks I figured. I was pissed about the busted door locks, though. Moving moved through the mess, shifting broken and strewn objects from my path to the bench. I cleared a safe space for the kettle and put it on. Scowling at the broken crockery on the floor, the costs started adding up in my head. Remember me mentioning I wasn't well liked, right? The officers doing the searching seemed to have done as much damage as possible.

  Fuckers. I'd make sure it came out of their pay. What can I say, I've got a Fury for my grandmother.

  I bent down and fished a box of teabags out of the mess. The coffee was a goner. Picking through the mees to find four usable mugs, I moved to make tea. The ute pull into the driveway and I saw Isolde and Fidelma nod at the Sergeant and walk towards the door. When they entered the house, Fidelma gasped in shock and staggered to one of the stools. That caused me to look up. Yup, they'd wrecked most of the furniture too.

  I really couldn't face looking in my clothes room. What I had would have to do. A dreadful thought occurred to me, so I checked my potions cupboard. They were all gone. Well, three Constables would be broke and in jail, their families destitute if I didn't get them back as they had been. Those were all legal, most hideously expensive because I had to special order from any alchemist who could cook them.

  I don't charge an arm and a leg just because I'm an arsehole. I needed most of it to do my job right. Being unique I needed custom potions.

  Isolde raised an eyebrow. She said "So this is being 'liked' and 'trusted' for one of my kin out here. Wish I'd known before I signed up," She grinned. With a voice full of humor, "It might have influenced my 'life goals'."

  I shrugged. What was there to say, really? She had a good point there.

  I was pissed at him right now. When the Sergeant walked in he received a scathing mouthful. "McGuire. I hope the SSC has a budget of more than a million for unjustified breakage."

  He looked around the house and his face paled, before he walked through it to the back rooms and came out with a face practically glowing red in rage. He grabbed out his phone and called a number.

  "Taylor, get those cocksuckers who searched the Jardine place back here. RIGHT NOW! I gave them an order to do it CAREFULLY, not like a natural disaster. All the items they confiscated as well. YES! The Council and its processes were compromised." There was a pause.

  "If you need confirmation ring, Lieutenant Kuznetsov, if you really need confirmation." His voice had gone icy there. There was another pause.

  "The lab picked up the confiscated items already? WELL GET THEM BACK! I don't care if you have to call the army wing and get helicopters involved. Do you want the entire unit to be cursed by one of the Three Furies?" a short pause

  "It was her GRANDSON'S stuff you idiot. And since when does the lab send a van all the way out here that quick?" I winced. Great. For fifteen years I'd kept that one tight, only known to a few people. "No, I wouldn't tell anyone else if I was you. Thal might take it personally," A brief break. "I'm someone considered a friend, and he broke one of my ribs over all this. I probably deserved worse. There's following orders and outright stupidity, and I was right on the line. And those officers have five minutes to be here, or I'm having them thrown straight into the secure brig, and their families will be on the street before the week is out."

  He carefully put the phone on the counter and started taking deep breaths. He slowly stopped shaking with rage.

  "Whatever is going on, I'll get it sorted. This is not acceptable. Even the blackest warlock wouldn't have this much destruction in his house. I hadn't been informed that Taylor's replacement had been found, either, and I should have been."

  Damn. Taylor was gone? I'd liked the old coot.

  "Why did he leave, McGuire?" I asked, nothing but curiosity in my voice.

  McGuire blinked, then chuckled. "The old bastard had a spontaneous development of wizardry. After how much he was on the front in his youth, combined with how 'hands on' during investigations I'm surprised it took this long. It happened on his eighty-first birthday, so they were watching for it." That was both good and bad. He'd be a force in and of himself now, having his powers manifest at the age of three to the power of four years. He knew the system. But though he might not age now, changing his own age was right out. I might look him up and see if I could find a way to make him a little younger.

  There was a quiet, timid knock on the front door. "Enter," McGuire said. After this fuck up, I just couldn't see him as the Sergeant, let alone Sarge, anymore.

  Three Constables entered the house, looking timid. One of them puffed out his chest upon seeing Fidelma and Isolde. An obvious dick for brains there. McGuire caught my glance and nodded. The other two looked at their Sergeant's expression and deflated further.

  "Since when do we treat ANY supernatural's property with this much disrespect, probies? Especially one your Sergeant has told you is working for Alecto? Do you want to have a horrible, and long, life?" The one who had puffed out his chest had collapsed further than the others when he'd heard 'probies.' It's hard to impress anyone when you've just been demoted to 'cannon fodder' or 'shit kicker.'

  "Now, I've convinced Thalias here," He gestured to me "that at least one of you might have a salvageable career. First, I need to know who took his potions against my direct order." Dick for brains was immediately pointed at by the others.

  "You just volunteered for close quarters prison duty. Congratulations. If you don't smarten up, you might last a week guarding the Demon or Angel sections. You will report to 'Heaven and Hell' no later than," McGuire checked his watch "Eight AM tomorrow. That gives you time to get in your vehicle and half an hour of gas stops along the way. Your new equipment will be provided there. Hand over your current equipment and leave."

  I spoke up at this point. The idiot was stupid enough to fuck a Succubus, it looked like, and in the Demon section that was a real possibility. I didn't really want a death on my conscience. "I suggest you volunteer for the Imp section if you want to survive your punishment. They can be as annoying as hell, but at least they won't actively try to kill you. One lady, you tried to impress was sent with me by Alecto. She's also a distant cousin of mine. Capiche?"

  He went pale as a sheet and hurriedly stripped off his equipment belt. Sergeant McGuire (yes, my opinion of him was improving some, although he'd have to earn Sarge bac
k) followed the constable to his vehicle and confiscated everything in it but the GPS and a mobile phone. He also took a dozen items from the man's wallet. The man saluted the Sergeant, got in the car and drove off. At least the counstable took his punishment like a man.

  'Heaven and Hell' is the Australian supernatural prison. It's on the edge of the old Maralinga atomic test site. Not the best place for your health for starters. Officers serving there were given amulets that protected them from the radiation. The only problem with that was it converted the radiation to magical energy. Energy has to go somewhere. The maximum stint there was three years unless you were changed by the increase of magic in your system. Then you could become a lifer or transfer to special duties at the end of your stint. About half of those that were changed chose to stay.

  I hated the place. It creeped the hell outta me.

  The Sergeant secured the fleeing officer's equipment in his vehicle and returned. "You two, at your own expense, will replace everything that was damaged, broken or contaminated in the house out of your own pocket. With new. You will keep receipts. If it goes over twenty thousand dollars, you may requisition an advance on future pay. When you are finished, the receipts will be added up, and you will be reimbursed a third of your costs by Officer Hanson. The house will be spotless and returned to its previous state within the week. Am I clear?" They braced and replied

  "Yes, Sergeant." It was inside so no salute was expected.

  "Come on Thal. I'll buy you and your companions a meal at the Iron Grill." Fidelma glared at them on her way out the door. Isolde kept her eyes down and hurried past them.

  "Get in the ute, Sergeant. We can talk on the way." He nodded, double-checked his car was locked and shouted something at the two officers remaining as we got into the vehicle. Fidelma grinned at what he said as she got into the ute. Damn, she had sharp hearing.

  Chapter 12

  On the way to the Iron Grill, the only five star restaurant within hours in all directions, I gave Sergeant McGuire all the details of the day so far, only excluding the ghost's mention of prophecy stuff. I wanted to know more on that myself before I told anyone else. He grunted when I finished.

  "You still got that tat in your freezer?" He asked

  "Of course. When I drop you back off, you can grab it out. Might save your job." I replied

  He chuckled. "Not sure I want to keep my job if the council can be manipulated this easily. I resisted as far as I could. When you gave me that opening I took it. It still almost ended in disaster for you and your companions... Who you have yet to introduce. You've had a lot on your mind, though."

  "Oh... The tall, goddess-like redhead is Fidelma. The short, cute shy brunette is my first cousin Isolde." I glanced at him "Isolde is under my protection. Fidelma is my client."

  "So you were using understatement when you called her a distant cousin. Smart. Those Constables will assume that was why Alecto trusted you and that Isolde is her emissary of sorts. That there is a family connection, but not one so close you shouldn't get trust."

  He turned his head to Isolde "It was always gonna be hard on you, Isolde. Furies just aren't well liked, and they're better known than the worse supes that really should get the hatred. So they become targets."

  He shrugged "Nature of things I'm afraid. My personal hatred goes to the Angels and their servants, like your kin the Erinyes. They cover their edicts in godly pronouncements and the like, but refuse to accept the blame when humans take what they say in the wrong direction. Good intentions only cover you for a death or two at most as far as I'm concerned. Angels are responsible for tens of millions over the centuries."

  We finally reached the restaurant. I waved the Sergeant and Fidelma ahead and helped Isolde down. "How are you holding up cuz? You've been awfully quiet."

  "I don't know. I realize now why you've had to fight. Why you stayed away. I thought I could show everyone that if we were nice, and swore off cursing, we could just fit in. I knew Gran, and some of the others wouldn't change but I thought I might be able to get Mum and the others like her to join me. And now, having seen what your life is like..."

  Bundling her into a hug, I said, "It's okay. I understand. I thought I was ready to leave home at sixteen, remember? I wasn't. And I was suddenly alone, cut off from everything I'd known. You are older, and you have me and, probably, the sergeant to lean on. We'll figure it out."

  She stuck her tongue out and then looked at me. "I'm not your full first cousin, you know. Your Mother and mine are half sisters." She said as she snuggled into my hug. There was something a little more than familial in her response.

  I shook my head at her. "And that makes a difference how? You're still my baby cousin, okay?"

  She gave me a shy smile. I waved her forward, and we both went into the restaurant.

  The Iron Grill was an odd place for several reasons. Firstly its chef and owner, Sid, was a mage. His talent was Gastronomancy, which is incredibly rare. When I found him, he'd thought it useless, because everywhere he'd tried to work hadn't had enough variety of ingredients for him to use in his art. I'd set him up with a Conjurer, Anita. She was able to create just about any raw material he wanted, though Sid still ordered most of his basics through ordinary means. Conjuring has a cost, like any other magic. The physical form of anything could be conjured, but it wouldn't be magical.

  They'd been happily married for five years now, though she occasionally complained that he spent too much time in the kitchen and not enough in her bed. It was kind of a running joke.

  Mages, wizards, and warlocks. Well, what's the difference you ask? Well - I've explained warlocks already. You should have taken notes. Wizards and mages. Wizards are magical generalists. They can do a bit of everything and have a natural level of power to draw on. Mages are born with a handful of talents and can drive them much higher than any wizard can. A wizard could try to set up a restaurant with Gastronomancy nearby, but he'd get no business competing with Sid. Besides, most wizards go in for the flashier magics.

  He was still looking fit. Sid was a shortish man, about five eight, with some aboriginal blood if you knew what to look for. His skin was dusky, rather than black, and his hair was a dark blond. Some Gastronomancers overindulged in tasting their own creations. It seemed he avoided that.

  The place also had nearby gates to several of the other realms and had been declared and warded as a Neutral location. An angel and a demon could be at neighboring tables and would be unable to fight until they were past the parking lot.

  McGuire and Fidelma had already ordered by the time we got there. Sid looked up at me and said, "Venison steak, roast veggies and an entrée of golden prawns for you." Sid usually spiked my golden prawns with ginger and Siberian ginseng. I must have looked tired, so I just nodded. "My special creamy garlic chicken breast, roast potatoes, and some... hmm... red meat, Prime rump I think. Rare. For you, young lady." Isolde's eyes widened, and she looked at me. I only shrugged. She looked at him and nodded eagerly, giving him a smile. He smiled back at her and pointed at me. "You stick by him, young lady. He'll find the solution to what ails you." I just shook my head at him and walked to the table.

  A part of Gastronomancy is knowing the best meal to give a person.

  This place always smells fantastic. It was too out of the way for me to work from and mostly serviced supernaturals. There were a few long-haul truck drivers that stopped through, and Sid charged them reasonable rates.

  While we waited, I looked at Sergeant McGuire. "Any idea of a consecrated site that surrounds unconsecrated ground near one of the original landings?"

  "Gods no. That's damned specific information, and with two bad apples in the Council, I can't run a search without it being compromised. Who knows what they slipped onto our systems? It'd just allow whoever is behind it all to get in front of you, put up roadblocks."

  Fidelma said "Sydney. Rookwood Cemetery." I blinked

  "Come again? Are you sure?" I asked

  "Did I say something?
" She blinked "Oh, yeah I did. Don't know where that came from. I've never been to Sydney." McGuire and I stared at each other and then looked back at her.

  "She's a little vague right now, but she makes sense. Rookwood Cemetery has all the early bodies, and Sydney is the first settlement. Still, does she do it often?" McGuire asked.

  I grunted. "She came out of nowhere with 'a Fury in the family tree.' From Curse-breaker. It seems sometimes she just needs a piece or two of the puzzle, and she can see the whole picture. I need most of the pieces. I can fill in a couple of gaps, but what she does is different. Something to investigate at a later time. At least she needs some pieces, so it's not Oracular or spontaneous divination."

  I could feel a headache building and looked at my three companions. The Sergeant and Fidelma were both getting agitated.

  "Whoa - sorry. Things like that make us curious, that's all, beautiful. We didn't mean to leave you out of the conversation." My headache settled down.

  "I'm not an object. Don't treat me like that," Fidelma said in a grumpy tone.

  "Well have you had any other sparks like that?" I asked.

  "How do you think I located you? The church told me that you could be found through the bishop in Armidale. Something felt off about it, so I looked in the less likely places like restaurants and cafes. I found you on my second stop."

  McGuire looked at her, then me, then back to her. Shrugging I said, "Best to get this sorted first. Whatever the ability is, magical or natural, it's not a danger, it's a curiosity. Always solve dangers before curiosities." My thought were already on the next step. "Has my gear been recovered yet?"

  McGuire looked down to his phone and sent a quick message. It beeped he looked down again and frowned. "Nope. So what are you going to do?"

 

‹ Prev