A Mongrel's Curse (Breed Matters Book 1)

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A Mongrel's Curse (Breed Matters Book 1) Page 8

by Paul C. Middleton

I thought about it. Most of my basic kit was still in the Ute, but summoning an Erinyes could be a draining process. I couldn't tell how much help Fidelma could be, and Isolde was barely starting her training. But in Sydney, there were still a few people that owed me favors. Time to call one or two of them in. I wrote them down and show them to Fidelma. Her curse was still suppressed, anyone who knew could tell by the vague uneasiness in my other companions. If they suddenly got too cheerful, I'd be wary.

  "Tell me who you think I should ask for help from this list, Fidelma." I passed it to her, and the Sergeant looked at me quizzically. Rolling my eyes and raising an eyebrow, got my message to him and he nodded slowly. May as well see if we could use her ability, whatever it was. She looked it over and then pointed to a single name and nickname pairing. 'Marius, The Devil Dog.' That was actually a really good idea. McGuire looked at the name she was pointing at and sighed.

  "Yeah, if he owes you a favor he's a good choice. I'll make sure the Sydney division calls up extra cleanup on this one." McGuire continued, "Knowing that it's him she's picked him out, even if you don't take her advice, it's gonna be a high body-count." There was a slightly mournful tone to his voice, "Wish I was still field active. Could be fun."

  "Not only that, but he stores my Sydney kit. So I'd have to stop by anyways since you haven't recovered my home supplies."

  It was at this time that one of the waitresses came out with our meals. We moved from planning an assault on a graveyard to lighter topics. Blood and gore aren't really conducive for good digestion.

  Chapter 13

  Driving to Sydney was surprisingly uneventful. After we had dropped the Sergeant back at his car, I was expecting someone to attack us or ram us off the road or something. It didn't happen. As we entered the outskirts, I checked the time and did a quick calculation in my head. Yeah, He'd be working at his bar by now. It was after five in the evening. The girls had drifted off while I drove and I was keeping to the speed limit. No reason to stick out. I kept driving through town, and Fidelma woke up as we hit the main road to the west of Sydney.

  "Where are we?" She asked.

  "Mount Druitt. His pub's here. He works arvos and nights, and we're nearly at his pub. Wake Isolde up."

  I pulled up near the rough-looking pub with a sigh. I was sure that Fidelma would be okay, but not so sure about Isolde.

  Looking at Isolde I said,"You stay near Fidelma or me, right? Marius is okay, but many of his clients are rougher'n I am."

  She looked at me and rolled her eyes. Then, surprisingly, spoke up, "More like they think they're rougher and meaner than you are. I saw what you've done to survive, I doubt that any of them have done a tenth of the violence of which you are capable."

  I blinked. She was right, and it was an important distinction, but somewhat irrelevant to my point. "Just remember when they look at you alone they'll be thinking easy prey." She nodded.

  We got out of the car just in time to see Marius throw a fella out. The man tried to put up a fight and ended up with his head shoved into a wall, which he slid down unconscious.

  Marius was as tall as I remembered, about six two, and when he got annoyed with someone people would say that his red eye seemed to glow. That was because they did. Marius was the half-devil son of a war devil and a human. Black, wiry hair in a Marine buzz cut, One blue eye to complement his red eye, and about a hundred and fifty kilos of bone and muscle. It was a fuckwit who pissed him off. Not that what I proposed would piss him off. He'd also served as a US Marine in World War One, hence the nickname. The joke among supes was that he was the reason for 'em being called 'Devil Dogs.' Marius didn't mind.

  "Oi, Marius, what's up?" I called out as we approached. He stood at the door looking at me cautiously. When we approached, I gave him my left hand. He examined the tattoo carefully. "Ah, Thal. You're out of your usual area of operations. And you got two tagalongs. Introduce me to them and tell me the tale."

  "The tall redhead is called Fidelma, the young brunette is my distant cousin, Isolde," I answered. "And the street in front of your pub is a miserable place to chat about our business, Devil Dog."

  "I thought as much. A young cockwise and witshort fellow came in a week ago claiming to be you. The tat didn't have a long enough neck, so I knew it wasn't. Me and a couple of my crew ran him down. He had a Reformationist tattoo on his back... after the lying little weasel expired we found it. They're supposed to be banned, in this country at least. Still have a run in Russia and Europe they say, but the US and Canada declared them a 'Dangerous Cult' for public consumption and deported them a month ago. Something about messing with a native shaman and releasing a yee naagloshii." He shrugged. Since the Marines booted him out after World War Two, he hadn't stepped foot in the US, though he still had contacts over there.

  As we walked into the pub, he nodded at two of the men in the place. They took the post, keeping people away from the corner of the bar Marius led us to. "You know they want to be at the top of everyone right? They reckon they should kill all supes except angels, and subjugate the angels."

  Marius blinked, then laughed "They really are nutjobs then. I wouldn't want to try to enslave an Erinyes, let alone a pure-blood angel. They've been hunting supernaturals, attempting to force 'em to a state of Grace, telling them it'll 'improve' them. Yon Fury" He nodded his head towards Isolde. "Should be careful."

  I wasn't surprised he could tell Isolde was a Fury, and neither was she. It was something about full and half-blooded supes. If you had enough power in your heritage, you could just tell. Figuring a Witch from a Wizard from a Warlock from a Mage was trickier. Telling what I was, well, there were a couple of reasons I was called the Mongrel.

  Marius continued, talking directly to Isolde "Don't often give advice, kid, but there a storm brewin'. Events in our world are moving fast at the moment. So I'll give you a small piece of what learnin's come my way over the last century or so. Be yourself, don't let anyone tell you they can improve you with this, that or the other. Angels and Demons, Grace and Damnation, are flip sides of a pair of coins. Far better being your own person, like your cousin here? Doing what you believe is right and forming your own opinion on right and wrong is far more likely to be doing the right thing. I mean, look at those Eastburrow Baptist nutjobs in the US. Followin' the lead of someone's vision o' God and Salvation into hell from what I can see."

  "And those suicide bombers in the sandpit. Thinking they'll get seventy-two virgins? Nah - the best they'll get is the same seven of Heaven's leg-openers a dozen times. If they didn't have faith, they'd probably become wandering spirits, if they avoid Hell that is. That's the line between those with Grace and the Damned. The strength of their belief. Actions don't seem to matter."

  He glanced at me. We'd had this same discussion, a decade ago. I'd left home and was on the streets when Marius saw me punch my hand through a vagrant that was harassing me. Neither of us believes anyone other than ourselves that will sit judgment on our actions at the end. We both lead better lives than many people out there.

  "Speaking of the Erinyes, I'm gonna need to access my reserve equipment here. And call in a favor." His eyes lit up.

  "No favor needed if you go 'gainst an Angel or a Demon. The world would be a better place without that family fight spilling over into it constantly. I want in, whatever it is. Let me get my cover here, then we'll plan."

  "Okay. Been a bit more active, have you? A crew and now staff to cover your absence from the bar? I thought you'd retired."

  "As I said. Events are moving fast. If I didn't come out of retirement, then where would you be now, anyways?"

  Chapter 14

  Once his relief at the bar had gotten there, we headed to the back room. Marius asked bluntly "What the hell is going on? I know with breaking a curse you need to keep the one who's Cursed near, but two broads and one of them a Fury you're distantly related to? Fuck man, how do you keep the energy up in bed? A Siren or something for an ancestor?" He said with a grin on his face. I scowle
d back at him. Partly because I was frustrated, partly from the implication I couldn't perform. I stopped thinking about it and took in a deep breath.

  After another deep breath, I dove into it. "An Erinyes cursed Fidelma's ancestor - a generational curse - and since we found that out we've had opposition from the Church, the Reformationists, and an Oathbreaker or two in the Council of Laws. We've sorted the problem in the Council of Laws and now we have to break into an unconsecrated crypt in Rookwood Cemetery. That's where we've figured out her ancestor's remains are. Oh, and on the orders of the Council, my house was wrecked. I've taken Isolde on as an apprentice. I had to talk to Alecto, and I beat the crap out of Isolde's father. That's been the last oh, thirty-six hours or so. That's the short story of it at least. Oh, and I discovered the Reformationists are recruiting Weres at least."

  He looked impressed. "Busy I see, with your usual habit for chaos. Okay - you've probably been too busy for bed it sounds like and neither of these ladies look like the type to go for up against a car or a wall. I understand the half-elf, but why Isolde?"

  "She's my new apprentice. Sworn off cursing before she'd ever cursed anyone. She's family, and if I don't train her no-one else is likely to." I admitted, with a slight wince. I had a fair idea of what was coming.

  There was a brief pause and the Marius burst out laughing. "You... broke down... and took on an apprentice?... Slap me sideways and fuck an Angel! I never thought I'd see the day. You've worked solo for so long and now you're gonna have a sheet anchor on your ankle for at least three months you know."

  "That's not fair. At least she already knows some magic and counter-curses."

  "Yeah, lad, but she doesn't know fighting. That much is easy to see. I'll offer to help train her once she gets in some muscles just for the chance to see you working with someone rather than against everyone." His grin had widened. It was an old bone Marius had with me - that I was TOO mercenary. That for the right price I'd work for anyone. He blamed that and the fact I'd never worked with anyone for more than two weeks for my outcast status. Not the fact that no-one understood my nature, least of all myself.

  Isolde looked at me, a horrified expression on her face. "I'm... I'm so sorry, I don't want to be a drag on you. I'll... I'll go home and stay in the house..."

  "There's more to this work than skill, lass," I said as I walked up to her and hugged her. "Marius and the Sergeant took me in at different times to train me. You're family, you need the training, you need the reputation for not slinging curses, and that's that. Ignore the nasty devil, it's his nature to find the worst possible way to look at something."

  "Actually, kid, it was more the suicidal nature of summoning both an Angel and a ghost on unconsecrated ground that made me want to divert my head elsewhere. You realize, Thal, that is probably what you'll need to do." Marius said with a hint of apology in his voice.

  "Yup. Don't forget the distinct possibility of Church hunters and Reformationists trying to crash the party if they aren't already there, waiting and wanting to stop us."

  "So, you got a plan to resist them trying to put Grace into you or one of the girls?"

  "You know Grace and Damnation don't affect me. Yet another reason that so many hate me. They can't bend me to their will." I'd become his apprentice after his father had failed a dozen times to put Damnation into me. MArius's father liked the idea of a unique devil and had taken me from the streets. I knew Marius could have prevented what happened to me. That was why he owed me.

  "And the ladies?" He asked. I frowned, thinking.

  "I doubt, with her curse, that Grace would be able to take hold on Fidelma. Isolde may classify as an Innocent, though. She'd still have to accept it, and Alecto, her grandmother, is quite graphic with how an Erinyes is used by the Angels. That they basically pimp them out to people who believe that they are righteous, to give them a taste of Grace and get them addicted."

  I turned to Isolde and saw the steel in her eyes. "If I'd wanted to take the easy route to not cursing anyone, I'd already be there." I nodded and looked at Marius. He looked a little uncomfortable and said.

  "Yeah, about that. In a pinch, your blood might work to remove the Grace anyways." I looked at him and raised an eyebrow, Spock-like. "Hey, Dad took some of your blood. You knew that. He also had two or three angels he shoved it down the throat of. It never seemed like a good time to tell you... by then we were getting along well... I'd worked so hard to get some trust from you..."

  I grinned at him and held up two fingers "Aww, hell. All right, I owe you two favors now. I shouldn't have hidden it from you. Let's go down to the weapons room. I'm gonna take along a couple of the crew and my current assistant to cover our backs. Us neutrals are getting a bit thin on the ground for me to risk four of us without there being a backup. At least if you discount the Yahoos." We looked at each other and shuddered. Neither of us counted the Yahoos as anything other than people who kept most of the trash jobs from our lives. They made me look like I was picky with the jobs I'd take. Heck, they were the only ones who'd take any job to destroy a blessed or otherwise holy object.

  Then I thought back on what the ghost of Fidelma's father had said to us. That 'the Blessing of my blood' was important. I shrugged. I could walk away now and prevent the prophecy, but fuck it. I was pissed at the Church and the Reformationists. I would see this through to the end.

  We walked down to his basement. My locker was still there, although moved. He'd expanded it. The keg room at the front of the area was the same, but the weapons room must have been eight or nine times the size.

  "Impressive addition," I said. I walked to my locker and rummaged through it. Finding my demon summoning bag, I grabbed out a couple of items and replaced them with what I'd need to summon an Angel. I still had the Ghost summoning kit in the toolboxes on the ute, so that was covered. I went through the few handguns in the locker and felt a hand on my shoulder. As I was getting ready a half dozen rough-looking men had entered, but it was Marius with his hand on my shoulder.

  "I put together a kit for you about six months ago, Thal. I kept it clean and ready for use. You always underestimated how many people might help you if ya just asked, lad." I looked up at him and saw a mixture of paternal pride and frustration on his face.

  "Once I mentioned it was you I'd be helping, the crew guaranteed at least six members, more if they could be spared from patrols or work. About two-thirds of my crew are relatives of people you helped or the people themselves. Yeah, you charge like a wounded bull, but when people find out how you live, they can see why. It's not like you do it to live life up. You've few enough luxuries, fewer'n most. You need most of what you ask for to get to the next job. They get that, some of 'em."

  He presented me with a fully adjustable leather harness. It wouldn't fit every form I'd had. The gigantism forms, yes, but the achondroplastic human, as well as gnome and dwarf forms I occasionally woke up as, probably not.

  It looked like Roo leather, hand polished and fitted, and had been stretched and softened so I could use the buckles to fit it to my current form easily. It had a pair of holsters, a half dozen securing points for sheaths, and moved well with my body when I walked. It also had a bandoleer for the standard size of potions bottle I used. I looked at Marius when I saw that. "Yeah, I had to open your locker to get that right." I shrugged.

  "As long as you didn't open or try to use 'em. I don't know if you could have lived, what with being half human. Maybe, but I wouldn't have risked it." He shrugged as if to say he'd known that.

  He then let me take my pick of blades and guns from his collection. I took a nice silver-laced gladius and a steel Celtic leaf blade for my swords then went over the knives and daggers. There were a sword breaker and a kris blade I liked the balance of and a Bowie. I then went back to my locker and grabbed out a couple of throwing knives that strapped to my back. I picked an unblooded silver knife for the last spot on my harness. I went through the potions I had stored there. Damn, half of them were stuff I'd ra
rely use now. Either too specific or just not effective. Ahh, there were draughts that aided coagulation and a couple of bottles of Gravebane. I dusted them off thoroughly with a rag before putting them into the holders in the harness.

  Finally, I went to the guns, tossing up between .38 automatics and 9mm with silencers. I eventually settled on the nines. The shoulder holsters in the harness were a nice touch. Shame we weren't in the US. I grabbed a half dozen magazines and shoved them into my jacket pockets. One of Marcus' crew dropped a leather Akubra on my head, and the other five nodded and smiled while the lasses giggled. I tried to scowl, but my heart wasn't in it

  I looked at the time. Four AM. Too late to try tonight, damn it. But it would give me a chance to show Isolde a few moves. I just hoped there was someone around who could cast a counter-curse on Fidelma if Isolde's broke. Why wouldn't I do it myself or ask Isolde? You can only counter the same curse once a moon. Period. No exceptions. Another person can, and then another, ad infinitum. But neither Isolde nor I would be able to perform it again for twenty-five or twenty-six days.

  There were other things you could do, which would limit the curses effects, but we needed her with us on this one. So on to the planning. Marcus went through a cabinet full of rolled up plans and grunted as he pulled one out, unrolled and flattened it on the table. Unfortunately, the only clear unconsecrated pathway was from the main entrance. Not that it was all consecrated in the same traditions. There were Jewish, Hindu, Muslim, Anglican, Catholic and Non-denominational Christian sections. There was even an area with a question mark over it that they thought might be consecrated in parts to the various Pagan religions. A Half-devil couldn't test that, only a full Devil could. The pagan consecrations were only harmful to 'evil beings of no humanity.' With Marius coming along we had one route.

  "Why the fuck do you have a collection of cemetery plans?" I asked

  "Well... You know how there is all this talk of a zombie apocalypse? I thought that even if it's unlikely, better to be ready, right?" He had the dignity to look embarrassed.

 

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