Dirty Deeds

by R. J. Blain

  Than snapped his fingers once. Not using power. No, that wasn’t allowed here, but the threat was clear.

  The dragon wisely jerked back, jaws shutting with a boulder-breaking crack. Clouds puffed from its nostrils. It growled and moved away from the plants toward the hallway.

  “Remember, full report,” Delaney said. “No dragon fire stuff. Do you think you’ve got this? I could go over the food thing again…”

  Delaney had that tone in her voice. The one he didn’t like. It was thick and upward drifting. Strained. He believed it was worry.

  The dragon was halfway down the hall now, trotting with purpose.

  “I mean, you’ll have to remember to let Spud out in the yard to do his business, but dragon pig doesn’t really do that stuff. It likes to go out with Spud though, so you can just let them…”

  The dragon chugged forward like an industrial age locomotive engine, smoke trailing the air behind it.

  It was chugging toward Than’s bedroom.

  His private bedroom.

  “There is no need,” he said, ushering Delaney to exit by way of the open door. “Enjoy your time away. I shall collect the favor in due time.”

  “Are you sure you don’t need—”

  Than slammed the door in her face.

  The dragon was nowhere to be seen.

  Spud, however, stood in the hall, tail wagging uncertainly as he stared into the darkness.

  “You are a pleasant companion. Loyal and refreshingly simplistic in your needs.” Than snapped his fingers again. Spud spun a quick circle and romped to Than’s side, panting and wriggling for all his worth.

  Than allowed his fingers to dangle and Spud positioned his head under them, his face going blissful when Than scratched behind his ears.

  “I do not know why you associate with that creature. It is nothing like you.” Than hadn’t been speaking overly loud. The storm outside rattled against the roofing, the gutters, and the windows.

  But the dragon in the other room growled. It was annoyed.

  Excellent.

  “It has been years since I’ve slain a dragon,” Than mused.

  The dragon growled again. Louder.

  Spud wasn’t listening. The dog was now interested in the front door. He sniffed it, whined at it, scratched it with a single swipe of his paw, then whined again.

  Than wasn’t speaking to the dog, in any case. Threatening the dragon seemed a sporting way to remind it that he was Death. The Death.

  An invasion of his bedroom would not be tolerated.

  “I am suddenly of mind to take up my power and leave my vacation behind.”

  Spud bumped his nose into Than’s knee and whined at the door again.

  Ah, yes. Delaney had mentioned outdoors for the dog to do business. Than opened the door, waited for Spud to bark and rush out into the rain, then closed the door again.

  Time to deal with the dragon.

  “I have given the eldest Reed a promise,” Than said. “I will follow the rules she set for your supervision. Therefore, you will follow my orders.”

  Spud’s barking had changed, sounding more vigorous.

  The bedroom door clicked open and, after a second, slammed. Pig hooves approached.

  Than fought the urge to smile. This was going better than he’d expected.

  The dragon came into the light. It was still in that ridiculous pig disguise. Soft and round and pink.

  Only now it had a large, fuzzy, spider slipper clenched in its overly sharp dragon teeth.

  “No,” Than said.

  The dragon growled, smoke curling around its head.

  “Put my slipper down.”

  The dragon’s eyes kindled hot.

  “Do not eat—”

  The spider slipper flashed into a ball of flames: fur, eyes, and eight wobbly legs disintegrating into a cloud of ash in an instant.

  “—my slipper.”

  The dragon belched ash.

  Than glared, one long finger pointed. “You,” he commanded. “Outside with the dog. I order it so.”

  He pulled the door open with such speed it sucked rain over the threshold.

  The dragon glowered at Death, then glared at the rainy weather. It grunted in surprise and ran to the door.

  “That is much better.” But Than was looking out the door now too.

  What he had not known, and had not been concerned about, was the unlatched gate, open toward the road, swinging in the wind.

  What he was now concerned about was Spud, who had discovered the open gate some time ago, as the dog was already two streets down and running north, fast.

  The dragon growled.

  “This is not ideal,” Than said.

  The dragon grunted in agreement.

  “I am less confident in assuming the behavior of dogs, but I believe it will not return here on instinct alone.”

  The dragon rumbled. It almost sounded like idiot.

  “Right then.” Than pulled on his long coat, rubber galoshes, and brimmed hat. “We shall find him and bring him back. Since you are to appear to be a pet, I shall treat you as one.”

  He plucked the bright orange leash off of the table, letting it hang to untangle.

  The dragon trotted up and set it on fire.

  Than sighed and threw the fiery leash out into the rain. The flames snuffed out in a wink.

  “I am not impressed,” Than said. “You will obey my every word.”

  The dragon snarled.

  “As Delaney would expect of you. Your ability to behave like a pig will feature highly in the report I will be submitting.”

  The dragon grunted.

  Then it oinked like a good little piggy and fell into step at Than’s side.

  They left the house.

  And if the smell of campfire and smoke mixed with the wind and rain, well, no one was out in the weather to report it.

  “By all means,” Than said. “That toilet is dreadful.”

  The dragon unhinged its jaw and swallowed the commode in one bite.

  Than supposed Mr. Tarr would file a complaint about stolen yard art. That would create extra paperwork at the station and a search for something that was not stolen, but instead, eaten.

  As Delaney would say: Worth it.

  The dragon grumbled, and they continued down the neighborhood street. Spud was just in sight, three blocks up. Than had called for him multiple times, but the dog had not glanced back once.

  The dragon grunted at a rusted anchor. It wasn’t even attached to a boat but was rather uselessly leaning against a tree.

  “Be quick.”

  The anchor went down in a shot.

  At the next block, the dragon grunted at a statue of a fish with far too many teeth, protruding eyes, and garish colors.

  “I would feed that to you by the spoonful,” Than said.

  The dragon crunched it down in three bites.

  Several blocks north, Than paused to debate the pros and cons of insisting the dragon eat a pop-up travel trailer. The trailer was covered in moss and sludge, with only a broken bumper and a Keep On Trucking sticker visible.

  Pro: It would rid the neighborhood of that bumper sticker.

  Con: It would unhouse several raccoons and a skunk.

  Before he had made up his mind, a squeal of locked brakes, a thunderous crash, and one small, sharp yelp cut through the rain.

  Than held very still. Even though his powers were at rest here in Ordinary, he was Death. If someone—if Spud—were dead, he would know.

  He opened his senses to his more godly vision, looking for Spud’s light, his spirit.

  An arc of green light rose out and up, the life spirit of an old tree turning the clouds emerald for a moment. Smaller green sparks from dying plant life fizzed upward in a steady sparkling stream around him, mixing with the white of the driving rain.

  Life sparks of birds, mice, grasshoppers, and other small creatures winged to the sky, while more liquid orbs of fish, crabs, and sea lions tumbled across
the land before swooping back westward to the raging waves.

  There were deaths, many deaths, but there was no wandering Spud spirit.

  He was not dead, but he could be hurt.

  Than and the dragon broke into a sprint, both covering more ground than either should be able to if they were simply human and pig.

  The next street was Highway 101, the main north-south thoroughfare.

  Than was expecting a traffic accident.

  Than was expecting to find Spud panting, thrown hard to the asphalt, broken.

  Than was not expecting to find a rather large old tree had fallen across a portion of the road.

  More than one car had skidded to a stop, but somehow, they had avoided hitting or being hit by the downed tree.

  To Than’s great relief they had also avoided hitting Spud.

  Than hurried to the crosswalk, his long-legged pace carrying him as quickly as a human ought to move. He splashed across the intersection, one hand tight on his hat, coat whipping, and rain soaking through his trouser legs.

  The dragon led Than by a slight margin.

  Than stopped on one side of the tree, peering through the huge branches to the golden dog within them.

  Spud was unharmed, not a single branch having touched him.

  He was, however, trapped.

  Than considered the many ways he could free the dog. All of them involved magic, god power, or heavy equipment.

  Spud whined, pushed against a branch, and wagged his tail hopefully.

  The dragon grumbled. Grunted twice.

  Than looked down.

  The dragon tipped its head. A tiny flame shot out of its mouth.

  “Delaney expressly forbade you to do anything to reveal your true nature.”

  The dragon grumbled. Than understood the language of dragons enough to know what stupid sounded like.

  “She will ask.”

  The dragon growled.

  “She will insist on a full report. I will tell her the full truth.”

  The dragon looked at Spud, glanced at Than, and then, having made a decision, worked through the branches. It burned them off with laser-thin flames, the rain dousing the fire before it spread.

  When the dragon reached Spud, the dog wiggled and whined, rubbing alongside his buddy.

  The dragon huffed, touched its nose very gently to Spud’s, then oinked and led him out of the tangle until both were at Than’s feet.

  “Spud,” Than said. “Why have you caused such concern? You will come with me now.”

  Spud spit out a ball. A bright ball the exact color of the object Delaney had accidentally dropped.

  “Is this it then? The root of our trouble?” Than picked up the wet, gritty ball and pocketed it.

  No one had been harmed. The cars could easily avoid the few branches that blocked part of the road. Several people were on their phones, undoubtedly calling for someone to take care of the fallen tree.

  That someone would probably be Myra Reed, Delaney’s sister who also served with her on the force.

  Since Than was only a Reserve Officer and did not remember tree removal listed in his job duties, he turned away from the foliage.

  “We will return to my house in an orderly fashion,” he declared. “March.”

  The dragon and dog did as he said, and the walk back was quicker, though no drier.

  Once inside, Than mopped Spud with his softest towel, fed him exactly one scoop of food with wet on top, and filled the other bowl with water.

  Spud ate it all, tail wagging.

  Good.

  Than poured his forsaken cocoa down the sink and began brewing a new cup.

  When he sat with what might be the perfect cup of cocoa, Spud walked over and curled up at his feet.

  The dragon, who had spent all of the time since their return stacking Spud’s toys into a pile, abandoned the task for no reason Than could discern. It trotted along the edge of the room, ignoring the plants and ignoring Than.

  That was also good.

  Than lifted his cup from the saucer and blew across the top to cool it. Before he could press his lips to the rim, his phone rang.

  He glanced at the screen and sighed.

  “Yes, Myra Reed?” he answered.

  Delaney’s sister sounded like she was in the middle of the road directing traffic. “Do you know anything about the tree that fell on 101?”

  “What might I know?”

  “Why some of the branches are burned through.”

  The dragon threw a glance at Than. It looked a little panicked before it turned its attention to its hooves as if they were the most fascinating thing in the universe.

  “Branches burned through?” Than repeated. “How odd.”

  “Does that mean you know about it? People saw you there.”

  The dragon looked up. Narrowed its eyes.

  “I know nothing about a fallen tree or burned limbs,” Than said, holding the dragon’s gaze.

  The dragon’s eyes went wide. Its jaw dropped open, tongue falling out with a thin puff of steam.

  “Uh-huh,” Myra said. “Is that what you’d tell Delaney if she were the one calling you?”

  “It is. Now, if that is all, I have other matters to attend.”

  “Anything I should know about? Curses? Dead bodies? Your new girlfriend?”

  “Good-bye, Myra Reed.”

  Than placed the phone on the side table.

  Spud propped his head on Than’s stockinged foot. After a moment, the dragon shuffled over, grunted at Than once, then snuggled up against the dog. The dragon’s warm, hearth-fire breath drifted across Than’s ankles.

  The storm outside raged cold and fierce, the dog and dragon snored, and Than finally lifted the cup and took a sip. He closed his eyes and savored the bitter and the sweet of cocoa, sugar, and cream.

  It might not be perfect. But it was not terrible at all.

  Copyright © 2021 by Devon Monk

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Bound into Darkness by Faith Hunter

  Bound into Darkness

  Faith Hunter

  Copyright © 2021 by Faith Hunter

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Award-winning, New York Times, and USA Today bestselling author Faith Hunter has 40+ books in print under the names Gary Hunter, Gwen Hunter, and Faith Hunter. As Faith, she writes three fantasy bestselling series: the urban fantasy / paranormal Jane Yellowrock series and the Soulwood series, and most recently, the bestselling sci-fi Junkyard Cats series.

  The Jane Yellowrock series features a Cherokee skinwalker who hunts rogue-vampires, and the Soulwood series, featuring earth magic user Nell Ingram, is a paranormal series set in the Yellowrock world.

  Her Rogue Mage novels are a dark, post-apocalyptic fantasy series, featuring Thorn St. Croix, a stone mage. The role-playing game based on the series, is ROGUE MAGE, RPG.

  www.faithhunter.net

  Chapter One

  Sometime between books 13 and 14 of the Jane Yellowrock Series…

  Liz

  Liz Everhart finished the email, tucked her cell into a back pocket of her jeans, ignored the weird buzz of blood-curse taint that still pulled at her flesh, and tried to decide who she wanted to call for backup on this gig. Finding a lost dog sounded easy on the surface, but it could involve hiking up and down mountain ridges, maybe camping overnight, and then hauling a seventy-pound, possibly wounded dog back to civilization. That wasn’t something she wanted to do alone. Liz dialed her twin, Cia, and discovered she was spending the we
ekend with her boyfriend, so help on that quarter was out. Her other sisters were covering the family business, Seven Sassy Sisters’ Herb Shop and Café. That left asking Jane Yellowrock, who she didn’t particularly like, and who was way too busy being some big hoo-ha in the vampire world. Or she could ask the man who had been avoiding her for weeks. Yeah. Him. She thought about being rejected again. Or, not so much rejected, as suddenly, inexplicably ignored.

  Staring out over the vineyard, watching her older sister, Molly, work, she remembered the various comments he’d made a month ago, ones that suggested he was now totally disinterested. She didn’t know what had happened, except that he’d been in some pretty dangerous situations protecting Jane Yellowrock. Maybe he really thought the danger to “civilians,” as he called people who were not part of Yellowrock’s vampire-human-witch clan was too great for her to handle.

  Come to think of it, his apparent disinterest had come almost immediately after her bout with viral pneumonia. He’d been there for her while she recuperated, then he’d pulled back. Son of a witch! That was it. Because she’d nearly died, he thought she couldn’t keep up with the danger. If she hadn’t caught him looking at her a couple of times, she would have believed he’d changed his mind about them being together and become oblivious to her. He thought she was weak which might be worse. Stupid man.

  Down the hill, Molly stretched hard and blew out. She’d been hired to talk to the vines to help them grow. Molly was an earth witch and, when she talked to plants, she actively pushed her earth magic into the soil, into the roots, encouraging them to good health, to seek out proper nutrients. She gave them a boost of life. Liz wasn’t an earth witch like Molly, but even she could tell the land here was well cared for, happy, and productive, in part due to Molly “talking to the vines.” Yellowrock and her consort, George Dumas, should have a good crop come harvest time. Aaaand she was wasting time.

  Liz trudged back up the terraced incline to the big inn where Yellowrock Clan wine label originated, and which housed the Yellowrock Clan itself: a mixed para clan that did crazy stuff trying to keep the human versus para war from erupting here like it had in other parts of the world. Politics. Liz hated politics. Wasn’t real fond of vamps. But Yellowrock’s adopted clan-brother, Eli Younger, the man who had been avoiding her, lived here. That ornery man made it worth the trip from Asheville.