A Mongrel's Curse (Breed Matters Book 1)

by Paul C. Middleton

  "Stay present, though disperse your form if you wish, while I summon this Angel to our presence. Action upon you may be necessary to break the curse on your line." I still hate the formality ghosts force on others in their presence. Just once, I'd like to swear in their vicinity.

  I continued setting up the circle to summon this Angel. I started the chant, and, after nearing the end finished it with "I summon thee, Erinyes Cassandra, who hath wronged the ancestor of Fidelma."

  There was a flash of light, and there she was, in the circle. At about five foot six she wasn't a particularly imposing figure, though the flaming sword that had appeared at her feet was impressive. She had pale white skin and curly black hair and wore only a skirt. From an aesthetic point of view, she was stunning. From a view of survival and common sense, her expression promised a painful death. I tried to avoid those, and I hadn't summoned her for the reason she apparently believed.

  She tried to reach out and grab me but rebounded off the edge of the circle. She first looked at me with a furious expression. That quickly changed to a seductive one, but I'm no suicide. Finally, she tried to throw a curse at me, which went through the protection provided by the summoning spell. It had no effect. I was working for Alecto. It would have taken Megaera or Tisiphone to curse me. There was still enough similarities between an Erinyes curse and a Fury's one that the protection held.

  "Oh, fine. You came well prepared. A curse shield and a competent summoning circle. Wonders will never cease. What do you want? A night of carnal pleasure without risking your soul or your life I assume?" she said in a bored and diffident tone. She was checking her nails as if she was bored with the whole matter and wanted to be done with it.

  "No. I need you to remove a curse you placed on this young lady's," I indicated, "ancestor removed. Since you placed it, you can remove it."

  "What are you talking about? I haven't given someone a generational curse since..." and her mouth kept working but no words came out. One reason I was okay with the spontaneous summoning of the ghost is that, in the end, we were working in his best interests. We'd have been able to convince him to tell us because removing the curse from his family's line was a redemptive act. It could have taken longer, and I was glad it hadn't. It sounded like he was in one layer of Hell and this would free him. He'd believe himself redeemed, and that was enough (or at least that was my opinion.)

  That it saved on the exhaustion that I'd suffer later as well was not a small consideration.

  I'd gone full court press on this lady, though. Forget what you may have heard about angels not being able to lie. They tend not to and rather tell partial truths. But part of how I'd summoned her forced her, to tell the truth like it is supposed to be applied in court. The whole truth. No deceptions, no dilly-dallying, no evasion, no bits and pieces to deceive.

  Suddenly she writhed in obvious pain. Evidently, she was still trying to lie.

  "Not my first time out the gate, little girl. I know most Angels are capable of lies. I think only the Angels of Death and the Angels of Prophecy have to tell the truth. So I put a corrective measure in place so you can't speak anything but the full truth."

  She gave me a venomous glare and tested the edges of the circle. Eventually, the circle became tired of being tested and started shocking her. I had nothing to do with it, I swear. I wanted it to be over with and pushed more energy into the circle. She slumped to her knees, on her sword, in defeat.

  "Yes. I did that. I'd just chosen to forsake the path of cursing people on behalf of the jealous. He was my... well it doesn't matter now. And he refused me," she waved her hands at her body, "called me a test sent from Hell. As if those bitches could have gotten near him before I cursed him. So?"

  "So, what you did was against the treaty restricting all but Death Curses from Succubi or Erinyes from being generational. If we don't fix it, there could be an Apocalypse, and not one likely to leave survivors, Capiche?"

  She paled. I don't just mean her face. Every patch of visible skin went whiter. "But... but I can't. I'll lose my grace and be condemned to Hell as a mortal! Do you know what the demons will do to me down there?"

  "Wait, you can't just break it? It should be a snap! You made it."

  She scowled "I was new to the whole thing, and he died a damned soul. To break the curse he needs to receive heaven's reward from me." I ran through my head. It was a pickle.

  "Okay, okay, what was the wording of the curse. The exact wording. I know you know it."

  "I curse you to roam the earth, doing no good, until a dark deed you cannot avoid. Your seed shall this curse spread. Redemption can only be gained through my reward."

  Ha! Loophole. "Your reward. Not heaven's reward - yours. If you give up your Grace and get freaky with him, problem solved."

  "But I like being an Angel! I'll never be able to get my Grace back." I tapped my foot on the floor. "Look, don't do anything hasty," she added nervously.

  "I have three choices here. You give up your Grace, and it might take you back. You are, after all, saving a soul. I strip you of your Grace, and it probably won't take you back, then I compel you to do the act. Or I simply force you, Grace and all, to do the act and you go to Hell. Demons don't like those who have tasted Grace. Well, I suppose that's not true. They like them, but tend to treat them with a heavy hand."

  I wasn't going to do something that would send her to Hell if I could avoid it. Threatening that I might was another matter. Fear can be a good motivator, and she'd gotten herself into this mess. She'd condemned how many souls to Hell herself through her curse? She could sweat some. I wouldn't lose any sleep over it.

  She looked at me, trying to read my face. Then she sighed, picked up her sword and concentrated on it. Within a minute it was a globe of light. "You must let me out of here. If I'm not doing it with you, you don't get to watch. Not one of my peccadilloes."

  "Your word." As I said that the old man, Fidelma's ancestor, started to reform. He'd been paying attention, obviously.

  "I promise to do whatever is necessary to break the curse on the line of the fallen Paladin Lothar of the Burnished Shield, and do no harm to his line or the person who summoned me." I nodded and broke the rope circle.

  "Come on, lover." She said as she grasped his arm and led him into one of the other chambers in the crypt.

  I let myself feel relief. Murphy had other ideas. After all the trouble that rat faces personification has caused someone should hunt him down. I heard a thump from up the stairs. Turning to face them, I felt some confusion. If Marius and Isolde had been attacked, there should have been pops, not thumps was the thought that ran through my head. That delay in reacting was bad.

  There was suddenly a lot of clattering down the stairs. Somehow Isolde and Marius had been ambushed. Five men burst into the room. I fired, and one went down. The others just kept coming. "Weres" I yelled in warning to Fidelma. She'd taken one of them down with an arrow to the eye. Thinking on it, arrows are a good choice if you don't have silver ammunition for your guns. I still had a silver alloy sword, though. Two of them were charging me as the third took an arrow to the throat. It still badly mauled Fidelma. The arrow in its throat triggered a change to its walking wolf form. She poked an arrow through its eye as it crashed into her.

  I noticed that as I whipped out my gladius and a bowie knife after dropping the pistols. I charged the one on the left, catching him as he was changing. Slicing his arm, I saw rage take over. I feinted to the left. Then stepped right. Using his own weight and momentum as an assist, I took his head. The last one was going to be a problem. He'd changed and was in control of himself, moving cautiously.

  I risked a glance to Fidelma. She wasn't in good shape but had rolled the corpse off herself and drawn her blade. I also heard a noise from the stairs but didn't let it distract me. I saw Fidelma circle around, but the stone sarcophagi made the whole battlefield awkward. He suddenly jumped at Fidelma, smacking her head against the wall behind it. She'd managed to cut it before its we
ight slammed into her. She slid bonelessly down the wall. Unconscious, I hoped.

  It didn't finish her, instead charging me. I stepped to place one of the sarcophagi between it and me, forcing it to slow its charge to either go around or leap up onto the obstacle. It chose up. I was waiting. As it landed, I swung my sword, the silver in it burning as it cut into the creature's ankle. It jerked back stumbling off the sarcophagus. As it rose, it moved with a definite limp. It growled at me. I didn't care.

  The son-of-a-bitch might have made my last two days work for nothing. May have killed my friend, my client and my cousin. I let out a bellow, infusing it with my rage. The Were shrank back for a moment. That was all I needed. I rolled over the sarcophagus and stabbed my sword through its heart. Considering how I was feeling, I could say something like 'I expected it to hit stone.' No, I expected it to slide in like a stick into the water with my rage backing the blow. It did.

  The useless piece of rotting meat slid off the blade. There was a slight smell of burning dog fur and flesh from the reaction to the silver in my blade in the air.

  I collapsed against the sarcophagus I'd rolled over, but my attention was drawn by a slow, steady clap coming from the stairs. A figure emerged. One I recognized. The soon to be dead Magistrate Caprioli. "Warlock" I snarled at him. Instead of clutching his throat and collapsing to the ground as he should have, he merely grinned at me

  "Why yes, I believe that is an accurate description of the power I have attained. I took years to perfect an elixir that would provide me such power in hours. I needed access to some of your unique concoctions to achieve it. After all, they use such rare components." I rose, and another two figures appeared behind him. Isolde was dragging The Devil Dog behind her.

  "Isolde, what happened? What are you doing? RUN!" I yelled at her.

  "Oh no, dear boy. She only follows my orders now. Be a dear girl and pick up that glowing ball will you." I kept struggling to rise. I managed to prop myself so I was sitting on the sarcophagus. That would have to be good enough. I threw the gladius at him as hard as I could. All the while, to my horror, my baby cousin was being forced towards a life as one of heaven's whores. The sword sparked and ricochet off something before it landed.

  "Is that the best you can do? Oh dear, boy. Abjuration is quite easy to learn. No iron, lead or copper shall harm me." The ex-priest, ex-magistrate said. "Once one descended from Alecto joins the Erinyes, it will be a small step to making all Furies accept the change. A shame nothing can be done for the Succubi I suppose, but they already chose to serve Hell."

  Thoughts of my Mother, my Grandmother, my Aunts and all my cousins being forced to that flashed through my head. I had assumed that at least one of Alecto's descendants had been an Erinyes. I guess we all had. So we had discounted a potential application of the law of threes against all Furies. Goddamn it.

  "You... shouldn't... be... able... to... control... her... though." I stretched it out. Not so much from pain, but to give me time to think. To figure out a way to end him. With a shield against iron, I couldn't even try to strike him with my fists. The iron in my blood would be enough to stop the blow from landing.

  He laughed again "Self-doubt, boy. When all five of her attackers came after her again, she was filled with doubt. My spell merely filled the void that doubt had put in her. Your devil friend there killed them, but too late. I was already in her mind. And so she knocked him out for me." He frowned. "It's a shame I had to lose such loyal followers. Still, I was playing for bigger gains."

  Isolde had reached the ball of Grace and picked it up.

  "Good girl. Now, accept it as part of you." He said. I could see her struggle against his order. For a moment I had hope, and then I saw her will crumble. It became a brighter light then seemed to fold in on itself, before exploding into a tunnel of coruscating colors that consumed her. As my vision returned, I could see white feathers starting to sprout at the top of her wings. In desperation, I grabbed the unblooded silver knife from its sheath and threw it with the strength of despair at the monster's throat. To the surprise of both of us, it flew straight and true for his throat. The blood from my hand had skimmed off it, across his abjuration. There was a gurgle from him.

  His concentration would have broken, and I was not giving him time to recover. With rage driven haste I sprang forward and was on him, my right fist pounding into his skull even after I'd turned it to a pulp, my left holding his body in place.

  A single voice pulled me from my rage. There was an undercurrent of fear in it. "Thal, help me." My baby cousin was asking for my help.

  I immediately knew what I had to do. She had accepted it. Under someone else's control at the time, but she'd still accepted it.

  I had to give her my blood.

  I got to my feet and stumbled towards her. The feathers were now halfway down her wings. Who knew how quickly the Host of Angels would give her a task once the transformation completed. I drew one of my two remaining knives as I walked towards her. Once I was a step away, I sliced my left wrist and took that last step, placing the bleeding wound over her mouth. I felt her drinking my blood from the wrist. After a moment her grip on my wrist strengthened and she seemed to be drinking with an unquenchable hunger. The light in the room seemed to fade. I saw the feathers start falling from her wings, relief rushed through me and I promptly passed out.

  Chapter 17

  I had a... vision I guess. I was on an open roadway, stretching in both directions amongst the red sands of the Australian desert. The asphalt is so fresh you could smell the tar from it. No-one had used it. There were no tracks or signs of wear. There was also a tall man, his body and face concealed by a robe. Black feathered wings emerged from his back. He sighed, and his glowing eyes pierced me. The winged man seemed to be looking into my soul, or the core of my being, or something.

  "Are you trying to make life harder for yourself?" he asked rhetorically. Shrugging I stared back at him. I was who I was. I wasn't going to change. Nor was I gonna tremble in fear. Sure, I thought I knew who this was. It looked like it was probably Azrael, leader of the Angels of Death.

  "You sit on a precipice, young man. You shall either be known as the Peace-bringer or the Warmonger. Walking the line between them and refuse to jump is something I respect, but it cannot last. Perhaps you shall be the first to hold the title 'Balancer.' It is a slim possibility. Most likely you shall be all three before your time is done. If your time ever runs out."

  I looked at him and said "Everyone's time can run out. Oh, the Ancients make it seem like that cannot happen, but even gods can die. What I don't get is why I'm so goddone important to receive a personal visit, and a personal riddle, from you, oh mighty Azrael." I said the last with a high heaped shovel of sarcasm.

  His gaze pierced me as he looked at me, but I stood firm. I may have just offended THE Angel of Death, but after the last few days, I couldn't care less. I took no sides. It wasn't like he'd be able to kill me unless my time was up and he'd just said it wasn't. Instead of a growl or threats, he laughed. A great booming laugh that echoed through my soul.

  "Ahh, finally, someone willing to face down Death Itself for the right reasons. Not out of fear or hope. I am pleased that your ancestor asked me for a boon. I will tell you this then. You have earned my respect. For that, I will grant you a boon when the time comes. I can see what it will be, but cannot tell you. If you fail to ask it will be lost. I will be talking to you again." I turned my back on the road and walked into the desert.

  With that, I felt my eyes opening to a noonday sun. I hate riddles. I hate responsibility. And now, it seemed, I had to deal with both. I stretched and found that I was in a short, slim body today. Wearing one of those ridiculous hospital gowns. Only good thing about them was they tended to be a one size fits all job.

  I looked around the room. I sure as hell hoped it wasn't a hospital. One of my main goals in life was avoiding the exposure of normal humans to the supernatural. I think I explained the 'why' already. So looking
around it became apparent it wasn't a hospital. The walls were unpainted brick, there were no curtains between the bed I was in and Fidelma's. She smiled as she looked at me.

  "I feel better now. I got to thank my ancestor before he moved on. Said I should look up to someone I can believe in. That I should follow my heart, not what someone wrote in a book like he did." The look she gave me made me very nervous. I don't deal well with open adoration. I like being alone. The door opened, and four people entered. Fidelma pushed herself up to a sitting position with what seemed like too much effort. She must still be recovering.

  I was expecting Marius and Isolde. They looked at me with some relief and Isolde came over to hug me. It was not a particularly platonic hug. Suddenly I thought of the Chinese symbol for trouble. Two women under one roof. Why did I have the sinking feeling that this was about to happen to me?

  As Isolde let go of me, I got to see the other two figures. That Sergeant McGuire was here was a little surprising. We'd have cleanup to do if Grandma Alecto knew that he wasn't keeping an eye on things, I thought. Cassandra, well, to be honest, I'd hoped she'd fucked off back to being an Erinyes since she'd liked it so much. She didn't look so good either. She had that gaunt, sunken-eyed look some recovering addicts get.

  "Whoa, guys, if this is gonna be a meeting an' all, could you get Fidelma and me some clothes first? And a bit of privacy to get dressed?"

  Marius handed Sergeant McGuire a fifty-dollar note, "I told you so," and gave me a bag. Isolde passed a bag to Fidelma, and the other three left. I cleared my throat and raised an eyebrow.

  "First, what she sees, I see." She ran an eye up and down my body. "Second, she's gonna need help to get dressed. Third, there's something you need to see that I don't want those three to see. I guess she can see it, though." Izzy said in a firm voice.

  I was shocked. My baby cousin wasn't a baby anymore. She had grown up in the blink of an eye. It must have shown on my face. "That ain't ever gonna that happen to me again, nor anything like it. I can learn a lesson when it's shoved in my face hard enough. I need to be my own person. Not worry about how others look at me. Now get your clothes on."