Serve

by Laura Wylde

  “I never have heard of such a thing,” gasped nurse Pottle, crossing her arms over her metal clipboard and squeezing it tightly.

  “No, nobody else has either,” he muttered, shooing her out the door with a wave of his hand. “That’s why it’s rare.”

  I buzzed Henry and told him to get his ass over to room 341 right away. “I just picked up the evidence,” he complained.

  “Give it to Todd. He’ll take care of it. I need you to get Thaddeus out of here. He’ll be completely healed within an hour and have a whole lot of explaining to do.”

  “One hour! That’s fast, even for a phoenix.”

  “Well, I may have shed a few tears on him.”

  “Ah. It must have been pretty bad.”

  He sounded sympathetic and I almost felt vulnerable enough to tell him how my life’s blood had turned cold at the sight of Thad still and beaten, surrounded by trolls, then remembered he was a human; a Millennial human at that; who was developing more intimate knowledge of our physiology than any human I had met in four hundred years. I cut him short. “Would you quit talking and get over here?”

  “I’m here.” He walked through the door, cellphone still in his hand. Those multi-tasking Millennials. I don’t know why I thought in order to talk on the phone, you had to be grounded in one spot. Habit, I suppose. For years, they didn’t even have mobile phones.

  Thaddeus’ mood brightened as soon as he saw Henry. “I confiscated my diagnostic chart,” he said happily, producing the clipboard.

  Henry glanced over it, chuckling. “You still know sleight of hand, do you? How are the ribs? Do any still feel cracked?”

  He pulled up the hospital gown. “Nope. Fit as a fiddle.”

  “Stay off the foot for the next couple of hours or we’ll have to reset the bone.” Henry looked at me as though wondering why I was still standing around. “This is easy-peasy. I’ll have him out the door and ready to go home within fifteen minutes. Just get me a wheel -chair.”

  Wheel- chairs hung around, just waiting to be taken, so this didn’t require much mental effort. There was one at the end of the hallway, just past where Tara was trying to interview the victims who were far more interested in warm food and soft blankets. I glimpsed through the partially opened door. She was helping a woman eat who was shaking too greatly to bring the food to her mouth. It looked like the same woman who had told me about the child. There was still a remote, rubber-stamped look to her face. It was the same kind of look soldiers sometimes get when they’ve seen more war than they can handle and begin to pretend they are somewhere else.

  Maybe she would get somewhere with them, but not right away. They weren’t really here right now. They weren’t in the cave. They were somewhere safe their minds had manufactured. She would realize this finally and let them sleep and in sleeping, process their new surroundings.

  My footsteps seemed lonely echoing down the hall, even though it was busy with personnel. Adrien was where I had left him, rattling off physics to a dumfounded audience. Todd had already gone out to get the car and sat there, running it in front of the hospital, as first Thaddeus came out, assisted by Henry, then Adrien and I, stepping rapidly through a crowd who had not understood the first thing their speaker had said, but were completely awestruck because of it.

  I felt a little like a lawbreaker myself, speeding by with the bits of soiled rags the prisoners had worn, some scrapings from their nails, combings from their hair and Thaddeus, checked out under false pretenses. Hospitals don’t like it when we pull rank like that, but once we got things out the doors, there wasn’t much they could do about it.

  At the station, I went directly to my office to make my report. The mission was only a partial success. We had rescued the boy and four other victims, along with the two captured members of the team, but there were still more cells, more victims waiting to be rescued. And there were still trolls, a lot of them. I listened to the reply crackling as the commissioner switched from speakerphone to a private line. I nodded my head from time to time, even though he couldn’t see me. “I understand. I understand,” I said at the end, then hung up. I put my feet up on the desk, clasped my hands behind my head and brooded.

  “You look like you could use a drink.”

  The voice was way too light and feminine to be one of my men. I took my feet off the desk and sat forward. “Tara. You don’t look all giggly and bubbly yourself.”

  She sighed and scooted a chair close to the opposite side of my desk and slumped in it. “I’m not. I’m not giggly or bubbly or tap-dancing on a piano. I’m a failure.”

  “Oh, come now! Aren’t you feeling a bit sorry for yourself? The boy was saved because of you! We freed five people today because of you!”

  “And I got my ass chewed out because of me!” She reached into her handbag and pulled out a bottle of wine and two wine glasses. I know this is a cliché, but it never ceases to amaze me what women pull out of their handbags. I believe they pack an entire mobile home with all its furnishings into them.

  I watched as she also pulled a corkscrew from her bag and skillfully popped the cork loose so she could fill the glasses half-way. She clinked her glass against mine. “Congratulations, Adonis. You’re the boss.”

  Thaddeus

  I’ve got to admit I was feeling jolly by the time we left the hospital. The whole escape felt like an escapade from the spy versus spy days of the Soviet era. In some ways, I missed those days. The Cold War was about outwitting your enemy instead of killing him outright. There were the casualties of war, as there always are and things could end brutally if you got caught, but it was primarily a war of wits. I like wits. I like the quick wits, the funny wits, the wits that help you survive. Adonis’ wits got me out of that cave alive and Henry’s wits brought me home from the hospital.

  I’ve gotta love the boy. He gave me a little morphine for the pain I didn’t even know I had until it was gone. All the way home, I kept grabbing him around the neck, and knuckle-rubbing his head. I couldn’t help myself. He looked like Merlin in glasses with a poorly fitted nerd suit only a Millennial would consider wearing. Adonis has his doubts, but I’ll vouch for Henry’s linage. He’s one hundred percent a magician and an alchemist.

  He tried to beat a hasty retreat to his laboratory, but I followed him. I tried to help him with the ragged, filthy clothing by unrolling it and spreading it out neatly. He slapped the back of my hand with a pencil, though, and said I was contaminating the evidence. Cute Merlin. Cute Adrien came in scolding. He got up close to my face, which was unusual. He’s a stand-back sort of guy. I noticed for the first time, his eyes were hazel, shining with an off-blue color in his grey shirt. “What are you doing, Thaddeus?”

  “Hi ya, cute Adrien.”

  “What in the world did you give him, Henry?”

  “Morphine.”

  “Oh crap.” His eyes peered deeper into mine. Cute Adrien had a funny nose. It was perfectly straight and a little long, like Sherlock Holmes. Thinking of him with a pipe and cap made me giggle. “How much did you give him?”

  “Not enough to put a baby to sleep.”

  “He’s a phoenix. Nutmeg gives him a buzz.”

  Henry sighed and popped up one of my eyelids so that we were eyeball to eyeball. “Eh. It’s nothing. He’s just rushing on momentary euphoria. He had a near death experience, a dose of healing tears and a shot of morphine. Take him upstairs and put him in front of the television. He’ll settle down.”

  “Settle down, settle down, settle down,” I sang until we reached the open door to Adonis’ office. “Whoa, cute Adrien. The blossoming lily has reached my sore eyes.” I said, beholding our little nightingale and gallant leader.

  “I think they’re having a private conversation,” he whispered. “We shouldn’t interrupt them.”

  He tugged at me, trying to maneuver us both toward the stairs, but I heard the boss man call out loud and clear, “come on in, Thaddeus. I have something to tell all of you.”

  “Boss,
” said Adrien, still trying to push me around. “He’s flying on pain killers.”

  “That’s okay,” said Tara, standing up. “We should all go upstairs, make ourselves comfortable. Where’s Todd?”

  We found Todd in the living room, sitting cross-legged on a woven rug, incense and candles in front of him. He frowned when we walked in. “I think I lost some of my mojo. I don’t feel sparkly.”

  I had more than enough sparks to go around. I thumped down beside him and gave him a solid, brotherly squeeze. “That’s just post-battle fatigue. It makes you feel sad, a little alone. Happens to all of us. Here.” I helped myself to Tara’s bottle of wine and handed it to him. He slugged down a good swallow. “There it is. You’re already starting to glow.”

  I shared my mojo with Todd until he was ready to dance an Irish gig. Somebody brought out more wine and we passed it around until we were all on the same wave- length. “What I have to say,” Tara began, scratching the formalities with the wine glasses she had used earlier, and holding a bottle between her knees. Her words fell out like she was forcing them. Adonis tried to help but she shook her head. “I have to say it. Not you. I’m no longer the head of this investigation. My boss called… I’m to report directly to Adonis.”

  I knew it hurt her pride. It hurt her ambitions. For the first time, she felt inadequate. “I’m sorry sweetheart,” I said. I tried to think of something that would cheer her up, then remembered the stories she had told of her childhood. “Look at it this way. You’re working for fish and game right now instead of parks and recreation and you don’t know all the wildlife.”

  “Or like being in a foreign country,” Adonis said gently. “The rules change.”

  She smiled. “Well, I can’t think of a better team to work with if I have to start as a tenderfoot all over. And hey. In the future, maybe I’ll receive more X-files.”

  Adonis propped his arm on the back of the couch and let his hand trail down to stroke Tara’s spiky boy cut. Whatever they talked about in the confines of the office had drawn them closer together. He was tender toward her and she was relaxed and receptive of him. “You’ll be the only human on the team experienced with supernatural creatures.”

  Her head embraced the warm shielding of his arm, stirring a little to relax more comfortably. “Hmm. Provided there isn’t already an entire department of shapeshifters.”

  He kissed her on top of the head, then sighed and stretched his arms, putting them in front of him and clenching his hands together. He steeple-chased his index fingers, which was never a good sign. It meant we were about to discuss something that nobody wanted to discuss. “I have a confession to make as well. I won’t be leading the team, either. The commissioner is dispatching Daniel Richard’s unit.”

  I felt an explosion of anger that nearly popped my eyes out. “They are taking us off the case? They can’t do that! We know the tunnel system better than anyone!”

  Adonis made a placating gesture. “No, we’re not off the case. We’re just getting extra help. All the indications are, there are far more trolls than we can handle alone.”

  “We aren’t alone! We’ve got two shape-shifting bears and one of the wolves has chosen to remain with us.”

  Still feeling responsible for my drug-induced behavior, Adrien had sat next to me ever since we entered the living room, and continued to lean, his shoulder propped against mine, which frankly, was as effective as a young boy leaning against his much larger father. Physically, he could not restrain me, but simply his innocent, youthful presence kept me from thundering downstairs to Adonis’ office and rendering the special phone to the commissioner, useless.

  “The last report from the badgers,” Adonis said, shoving a file in front of us. Those low -down brown-noses had gone over our heads and filed directly with the commissioner. “There are at least seventeen cells, eleven of which appear to be occupied. The cave system branches off into three different systems they haven’t explored because of the distance. One explored system runs all the way down to an underwater cave close to Coney Island. They believe this is where they first entered. The alternate entrance we are guarding can be blocked by the two bears and the wolf, but the other underwater exit remains open. We need a second team.”

  “I’m sorry,” said Tara, squeezing his hand.

  Adonis had been in enough wars to know when additional troops were needed. He had been in enough to accept superior officers without flinching, and he knew his good leadership depended on his example. “No. I’m not upset. The commissioner is right. We need another team. There are trolls scattered throughout the tunnel system. If too many escape, it will embolden Set IV. He will send more. He’ll set up house-keeping.”

  “All the black, nasty, foul-smelling monsters oozing with slime, slithering along walls,” I blurted out, remembering the horrid army bubbling out of the earth.

  “Ai, if that should happen, we’ll just shove all the sirens in a heap down there,” Todd said, giving me a friendly poke now that his sparkle was back and mine was gone. “They’ll scream so loud, every slime ball within fifty miles will explode.”

  The light comment brought me back to the here and now and I had to laugh. Sirens were a problem. The wenches had some murderous designs, all involving the decapitation of men, but nobody wanted to wipe them out. They were like a beautiful but dangerous animal. You wished they would conform. You hoped they would conform. You give them everything they desired, but secretly you know one day they will betray you.

  “Daniel is a good man,” I admitted. “I worked with his partner, Jamie Johnson once, centuries ago, during the plague.” Since Tara probably wouldn’t understand the significance, I explained. “You may think the plague was brought about by natural causes, but it wasn’t. In the late thirteenth century, the Set royal family devised a plan to get rid of Europe’s human population. They had already introduced vampirism and werewolves, but when that didn’t work, they cooked up the plague. It was carried by reapers, fearsome spectral creatures who spread the disease by moonlight. We left the vampires to the hunters and went after the reapers.”

  Adonis slapped his knees as though he had settled the matter. “Daniel’s team holds the track record for number of closed cases. They’ve been pounding the beat since New York was a colony. They know the territory. They know the people, the native shapeshifters and most of the species that come here illegally. We can learn a lot from them.”

  “I know Lenny Katz,” said Adrien. “He and I are good friends. We exchange information a lot. Lenny has the profile on nearly every criminal from here to New Jersey.”

  “Does that mean you two are electronically joined at the hip?” Joked Todd.

  “Hah,” said Adrien. “He’s an old man. Nearly as old as you, Todd. He was here during the Civil War, fighting the demons some necromancers unleased. But the humans don’t know any better. They think he’s a Millennial, although he’s really more of a hippie. He’s street wise, but not all that computer savvy.”

  “Well,” said Tara. “At first glance, I wouldn’t guess any of you were older than your late-thirties. But on closer look, it must have taken you two hundred years to develop those crow’s feet at the corners of your eyes, Todd.”

  She was teasing him, and the funny part was, he didn’t know how to take it. He turned the camera on his cellphone like he was going to take a selfie and examined the lines running away from the corners of his eyes critically. He also examined the ones beginning to crinkle up his forehead and checked for a receding hairline. Satisfied that age hadn’t ravaged him yet, he said triumphantly, “those are leprechaun laugh lines and I earned every one of them.”

  We were on our third bottle of wine, or maybe it was the fourth. Tara cheered him and so did I, reflecting uncomfortably if we were going to compare ages by human measurements, Adonis and I would be the dinosaurs hoping to flee our extinction. We were all still licking our wounds, however. Tara sensed it. “Hey, you know what we need? Pizza and a movie. Have any of you seen,
‘One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest’?”

  “Now, that would be a strange thing to do,” said Todd, already calling the pizza parlor. “It might give you a bit of vertigo.”

  I weighed out the possibilities. “If it was necessary. There may be a good reason for flying over a cuckoo’s nest.”

  “Wasn’t there another bird movie?” Asked Adonis. “The Birds? It was falsely reported. It was a disease introduced by the Set royal family. Once we caught the disease carriers, we were able to treat the affected animals.”

  “It doesn’t have anything to do with a cuckoo bird. It’s about a mental ward.” She sighed and put her feet up on the couch. “What do you guys watch?”

  That produced a tug of war because each one of us had a different interest. The pizza came, we hadn’t decided, so she finally said, “that’s it. We’re watching ‘Some Like it Hot’.” And then, it was “Monkey Business”, and “Something’s Got to Give”. We ate pizza and popcorn, drank more wine, and sometime during the night, I fell in love with Marylin Monroe.

  I think we would have spent the entire evening stupefied by a 1950’s bombshell that filled the room with so much candid womanliness, so much light and cheer, it made you worship the entire female gender. This was the secret Tara. The one she revealed only for us, purely sensual to the male touch, responding with every inch of her sun-kissed body.

  We had all piled up around her, Adonis and I on each side of the couch, with Tara in the middle, Adrien and Todd sitting on the floor, leaning against us, making themselves comfortable with cushions and blankets when Tara’s phone rang. She had to struggle out of the pile we had made to answer it, but at first, she looked delighted. “It’s daddy,” she said soundlessly, mouthing the words. As she listened however, her face began to fall. She probably didn’t intend for us to listen in. Her phone was at a low-volume setting, but phoenixes have very good hearing. We caught every word.