Barry didn’t look very happy about that. Even behind his night-vision goggles, I could tell he was frowning. He kept reaching for the knife handle, then pulling his hand back.
I heard sirens. “Coby, search the rest of the upstairs,” I said, holstering my gun. “I’ll see if they need help finishing up downstairs. Barry, keep an eye on the fairy.”
He reached for the knife again and I saw that it wasn’t bone after all but a carved antler. I gave him a glare and he stopped again before he touched it.
The foyer looked and smelled like hell. It was so festooned with exploded zombie bits that it would probably have to be hosed down. I was glad I didn’t have to deal with it. I didn’t see any zombies still standing, though, just one twitching a little in the corner. Sam popped it as I entered, and I got splattered.
“Oh, thanks,” I said. My dinner was threatening to come up. “I dropped the Necromancer. There’s an injured fairy upstairs; paramedics are on the way.”
Sam and Jayden retreated to the porch. Jayden started trying to wipe some of the gunk off his uniform, but Sam said, “What happened?”
“I’ll explain later,” I said. The ambulance had just pulled in.
The paramedics refused to cross the foyer, once they saw it. Sam snarled, “It’s just zombie guts. Afraid you’ll mess up your pretty shoes?”
“We’ll bring the fairy down,” I said, before Sam sparked up a fight. I trotted upstairs.
Barry was kneeling over the fairy, whispering. He’s not supposed to work magic on the job, but I figured he was helping the fairy. The poor little guy looked like he needed help.
I scooped the fairy up as carefully as I could. Coby joined us and we hurried downstairs and outside. The cops had arrived, although they didn’t look keen about crossing the zombie guts either.
I laid the fairy on the gurney the paramedics wheeled over. One of the cops said to me, “You’re Jo Carlisle? You made the call?”
“Yes,” I said, not wanting to elaborate. I was going to have to explain why a human was lying dead upstairs with a bunch of silver bullets in him, but I wasn’t looking forward to it. My goggles were smeared with goo so I took them off.
The cop recoiled when he saw my eyes. I never get used to that reaction. I turned to the paramedics and said, “We need to get that knife out—it’s got something to do with a summoning.”
Barry said, “I think the Necromancer was calling up an otherworldly servant. That’s how vampires and werewolves first came to our world, you know. We don’t want to invite anything else in.” He grabbed the antler knife and yanked it out.
The cop started to speak, but was drowned out by a huge clap of thunder. Rain began to pour down. I was just thinking that at least the rain would wash some of the zombie splatter off, when I heard a bellow and felt something big push past me and clatter away into the dark.
“What was that?” the cop said, sounding nervous now.
“That was what the Necromancer called up, I guess. I’ll be back to give you my statement as soon as we’ve hunted it down.”
I pretended to be annoyed, but inside I was happy to get away from the cops. Besides, now I had something more interesting to do than pop zombies.
Coby drove and I rode shotgun. Even after a rinse-off in the rain, Sam and Jayden were still pretty noisome. We rolled down the front windows so we could breathe. The rain poured in, but we were already soaked.
I pulled my helmet off. “I don’t see him,” I said, leaning out the window as we drove up the quiet street. “I’m pretty sure he came this way, though. Did anyone get a good look at him?”
“Him or it?” Coby said.
In the back seat, Sam said, “It looked like a horse or something. I heard hooves, anyway.”
“Demons have hooves,” Barry muttered.
I didn’t ask Barry how he knew what demons looked like. “Wait, I think I see him,” I said. I’d caught a glimpse of a bounding, four-legged figure behind a house. “He’s headed for the highway.”
“It’s headed for the park,” Coby said.
With a sinking feeling in my already queasy stomach, I realized he was right. Circle Park was a nice place during the day, full of joggers and kids running around on the grass. At night, though, it was prime hunting ground for the nasty things in life. Not a week went by that we didn’t stake a few vampires at Circle Park, or take down at least one werewolf. You’d think that kind of reputation would keep humans away after dark, but the local high school kids seemed to think it was a great place to buy weed or make out.
I didn’t catch another glimpse of the demon, if that’s what it was, but Coby drove us to the park anyway. I wasn’t surprised when we pulled in beside two other hunting vans. I’d almost forgotten that the vampires and werewolves were all worked up.
“Could the Necromancer’s spell be the cause of all the bad feelings tonight?” I said as we climbed out of the van. It was still raining, although not as hard as before. Lightning flickered.
“Maybe,” Barry said. “That was a nasty spell he was using, that’s for sure.”
“Heads up,” Sam said.
I heard the werewolf before I saw it crashing through the bushes nearby. I went for my weapon, but Sam was already aiming. I took a moment to admire his perfect stance—Sam looks like a poster-boy Marine, although they’d never have let him join up with his wings—before he squeezed two rounds into the wolf.
His aim was excellent, one shot in the head, another in the chest. The werewolf had been half-shifted, a wolfman like in the old movies, and he tumbled to the ground. I kept my weapon aimed at him and edged up to the body carefully. When it didn’t move, I figured he was dead. Ordinarily they attack as soon as a human comes near.
“All right, let’s spread out,” I said. “Keep an eye open for anything unusual.” I ignored Jayden’s snicker when I said the word eye. “Barry, stick with me.”
I wanted Barry along so he could tell me what the demon thing was. I figured I’d find it first, since I had the best vision.
The others headed into the heart of the park, a big grassy area. I didn’t think the demon would go there, though; I had the idea that he would stay in the trees at the south end of the park. Maybe it was the hooves that gave me that idea. Demon or not, things with hooves liked to hide from predators—and the park was full of werewolves. I could hear distant snarls and howls, and before I’d taken ten steps I heard gunfire.
Barry followed me as I walked toward the trees. My short hair was plastered to my head with rain; I brushed it out of my eyes. I needed a haircut. At least the storm had cooled the night down.
It took us a few minutes to reach the trees. From behind us I heard the hiss of a wounded vampire, more gunshots, a yelp, an inhuman scream. “Busy tonight,” I said. “We’ll go help as soon as we deal with this thing.”
“If we can find it,” Barry said.
“We’ll find him. It.”
It was darker under the trees, which were dripping with rain. I stopped and glanced around. “There,” I whispered, pointing. I could just see a horse-like figure behind some brush. Above the patter of rain and grumble of thunder, I thought I could hear him breathing.
We circled around so the demon wouldn’t run out into the street. I could tell that he had heard us from the way he turned to keep us in view. He had big ears that stuck out sideways from his head. As we crept closer, I could smell his sweat. He smelled like a horse.
“Could he actually be a horse?” I whispered to Barry.
“Whatever it is, it’s not native to this world. It’s no horse.”
“How can you tell?” I said. “I can see it pretty well. It looks like a damn horse.”
“It feels wrong,” Barry said. “It’s not from here.”
“But how can you tell?”
“How can you see it?” Barry snapped.
Barry still had his night-vision goggles on, but evidently he couldn’t see the horse thing. I had my strange eyes; Barry had something special
of his own. “Point taken,” I muttered. “Oh, hell, there he goes.”
The horse thing exploded away from us with a grunt, out of the trees. At least he was headed deeper into the park. Barry and I ran after him, but he was far faster than us. By the time we’d made it out of the trees ourselves, he was too far away for me to get a clear view or a clear shot.
I’m in good shape, but I’m not much of a sprinter. I dropped to a walk and let Barry run on ahead.
The rain was only a drizzle by now. I holstered my weapon and pushed my hair out of my eyes again. I wanted a good look at the thing the Necromancer had called up before I filled it full of silver. Whatever Barry said about it being wrong, I didn’t want to drop some little girl’s pet pony by accident.
I had my chance sooner than I expected. I saw the thing returning at a bounding gallop through the dark, followed by what looked like every werewolf in the city.
A deer. The Necromancer had called up a deer. I’d have to tease Barry about that later—a deer was just as normal as a horse. I remembered the antler knife, remembered the hurry the Necromancer had been in to finish his summoning. He’d screwed up.
I drew my weapon, released the safety, and had time to shoot eight werewolves before the deer flashed past me and disappeared into the trees.
There were still a dozen wolves after the deer. I turned around and shot another five or six, then plunged into the trees to get the rest.
I realized my mistake almost immediately. I didn’t have backup and I was outnumbered. And a number of the wolves had given up chasing the deer and were waiting for me.
I shot three more before my clip ran out. I didn’t have time to reload. Two wolves leaped at me at once, knocking me to the ground. My body armor didn’t cover my hands or neck, and I’d left my helmet in the van.
I grabbed my knife—steel edged with silver—and plunged it into the nearest wolf. It fell back with a yelp, but another seized my right arm. My suit’s armor kept the teeth from piercing me, at least. The pressure from its jaws was still so intense that I lost my grip on the knife.
I thought my arm was breaking. I tried to reach my backup knife with my left hand, but the other wolves had closed in. I was going to die—die or be turned.
For some reason that didn’t scare me as much as it should. The smell of wet dog filled my nostrils. I didn’t want to die, but if I was mauled and turned into a werewolf—well, at least then I’d match my eyes.
I threw my left arm up to protect my face and neck, and let the wolves drag me back and forth like a chew toy. I didn’t bother to scream.
I heard an angry bellow and a wolf yelped. One of the wolves dropped my ankle; another let go of my leg. I heard snarls and more yelps, and a thumping sound like someone beating a carpet with a broom.
The last wolf let my arm go. I lay where I was, breathing hard and shaking even harder. My right hand had gone almost numb from pain.
The deer reared above me. I’d always thought of deer as delicate creatures, but this one seemed enormous. He had antlers, although they were blunt and unfinished, still growing; his neck was covered with a ruff so thick that even a werewolf probably couldn’t bite through. And he was kicking the wolves so hard I was surprised he hadn’t killed any of them.
I scrabbled on the ground with my left hand and found my gun. It took long minutes to reload one-handed. I had trouble aiming steadily, but at point blank range I didn’t need to worry too much about missing.
I dropped the rest of the wolves, then fell back, gasping.
The deer stood over me for a moment. I considered shooting him too, but he’d saved my life. Anyway, he was just a deer.
That’s when he shifted.
Werewolves shift slowly, a long and painful process. The deer just winked out of sight and then a young man was standing in his place. I was completely sure he’d shifted, though, even if it had only taken an instant. He had the same eyes, big and brown. You can always tell a werewolf by the eyes; why not a weredeer?
He was tall, or looked that way from where I lay on the ground, with brown skin and dark brown hair that curled loosely. “Are you all right?” he said, dropping to his knees next to me. He was wearing clothes that looked like they were made of animal hide.
“I’m okay, just banged up,” I said. I tried to sound tough, but my voice was shaking as hard as my hands. “Thanks.”
He felt my forehead, brushing my damp hair back. “Are you sure you’re not hurt?”
“Pretty sure.”
He was gorgeous, I realized. When he touched my cheek lightly, a little thrill shot through me. He smelled of sweat and leather.
He leaned down closer to me. “You have really beautiful eyes,” he said softly, and smiled.
I caught my breath. When Barry came pounding up, I wanted to scream at him to leave us alone for a few minutes.
Barry looked around at the dead wolves. “You okay, Jo? Good work.” He pointed at the weredeer. “You need to go home.”
“I know. I wish I knew how.” The weredeer patted my hand, then stood up.
Barry pulled the antler knife from his boot sheath. “I can get you home. I’ll have to cut you. Jo, don’t tell anyone about this.”
“Of course not,” I said.
I sat up and took stock of myself. I was going to need a medic for my arm, but I could tell the armor had kept me safe from an actual wolf’s bite. That was a good thing after all.
I didn’t really want to run around on the full moon and kill people. I definitely didn’t want one of my teammates to have to shoot me.
Barry began to mutter a spell. There was still fairy blood smeared on the knife’s hilt—it shimmered faintly in the dim light. The weredeer shifted his feet nervously, staring at the knife with his eyes wide.
He’d said I had beautiful eyes. No one had ever told me that before.
Barry made some gestures that reminded me uncomfortably of the ones I’d seen the Necromancer make. Then he put the knife edge across the man’s arm and sliced.
I winced, and when I looked again the weredeer was gone.
“Too bad I wasn’t around when the first vampire was summoned,” Barry said. “That’s that. Are you hurt?”
“Not fatally,” I said. I staggered to my feet.
“We’ll get you to the hospital.”
I could find out if the injured fairy was okay. Maybe we’d even end up in the same room.
We walked out from under the trees. Fog was rising from the moist ground now that the storm had passed. Lightning still flickered, but the tension I’d felt earlier that evening was gone.
“Barry?” I said as I limped along beside him.
“Yeah?”
“That guy told me my eyes are beautiful.”
Barry was silent for a few steps. Then he said, “You look really good, Jo.”
He didn’t say anything about my eyes. I decided I didn’t care.
I said, “Call me Catseye.”
Knocking Them Dead
John X. Grey
Constructed seemingly overnight in 2007 with no one recalling how or when it happened, The Delta Galaxy Casino Hotel sat facing the pointed corner where North Las Vegas Boulevard intersected West Sahara Avenue southwest to northeast across from the legendary Sahara Hotel. The blue-gray metal and white marble 40’ tall isosceles triangular structure held five floors, its southeast edge between North Las Vegas Boulevard and the hotel’s parking lot, and a northwest corner facing West Sahara Avenue and South Bridge Lane. The building also had its distinctive 200’ high silver pyramid-shaped needle towering above, with the 20’ diameter decorative purple ringed planet at the apex, and bathed in electric lighting on a warm late November 2008 evening. Reviews about The Delta Galaxy had been mostly positive, especially for the formerly unknown singer headlining its showroom three times daily (except Sundays) – Mr. Vic Marino.
Pulling into the southwest parking lot, one dark-blue GMC panel van, Monstrum Venatores LLC painted in silver letters on each side,
sporting a miniature satellite dish and three short antennae along its rooftop, parked at 7:34 P.M. after circling the block twice.
“Did the equipment show anything?” Columbia University journalism school dropout and one-time International World News reporter Jack Pike sat in one of four swiveling padded chairs to the van’s cargo section. The 26-year-old, 6’ 2” man had wavy red-brown hair, no sideburns, a slight five o’clock shadow and blue-gray eyes, dressed in the black velvet shirt with red roses on the back and sleeves, black trousers, gray socks and black dress shoes. His gray fedora lay on the floor atop some luggage and a matching trench coat hanged over the seat. He faced a black man at his right manning the electronic control station. “Y’know, my paper ran stuff about The Delta Galaxy, claiming how it was built seemingly out of thin air last year.”
“No strange electromagnetic emissions or unusual radiation traces,” Darrell Cory “Brains” Murphy III looked up from his monitors toward the others present, the 24-year-old removing a headset that scanned broadcast frequencies, “and the scan didn’t even penetrate the big needle’s material.”
The 5’ 10” dishonorably discharged US Air Force electronics specialist and remote drone pilot’s buggy brown eyes and flattop afro fit with this eccentric group. He wore the red leather jacket, purple Velcro-strapped sleeveless shirt, tan parachute pants and steel-toed black boots. Seated ahead of Murphy was an equally odd-looking 22-year-old Asian named Kenji Hara, the 5’ 9” middle son of three, and their team’s newest member everyone called Ken.
“That’s not possible, right?” Hara swiveled to face the men behind him, his hair a spiky-styled, red-dyed mullet inspired by Anime cartoons, wearing the neon maroon shirt, tan chinos, black shoes with socks and brown WW II surplus leather bombardier jacket.
“We’ve been here a few minutes,” the driver, 45-year-old former US Marine Corps Drill Instructor Artie Slade, turned off that parked van’s ignition, rubbing a graying brown crew cut hair and smoking the thick cigar, “and I’m getting the creeps just being this close.”
Both Barrels of Monster Hunter Legends (Legends of the Monster Hunter Book 1) Page 54