by J. C. Nelson
From Liam’s collection of tool bags, I stole a heavy leather bag and slipped the coin into it, locked up the shop, and headed to most likely hideout number two, Ari’s apartment. Now that it was no longer haunted by an undead sorcerer, the basement made a nice guest room.
My key let me in, and I smiled when I heard the clink of dishes in the kitchen. I ran through the living room, around the corner, and nearly plowed over a short, balding man with salt-and-pepper hair.
“You?” I stared at him. “What are you doing in Ari’s kitchen?”
The Adversary looked back at me. “An act of pure evil. I’ve moved every item in her kitchen to a different place and switched all the drawers.”
“And?” I crossed my arms and tapped my foot.
He turned away from me. “I put three socks without matches in her laundry basket. I stole them from a woman in Illinois. It’s going to drive her crazy.”
“How in Inferno did you get in here?” He shouldn’t have been able to cross the threshold. Demons and most other celestial entities couldn’t enter someone’s home without an invitation. What mattered wasn’t the words, but the intent to allow them in.
“That sweet little princess invited me in. Tried her charms.” He looked around, to see if anyone was watching. “They don’t work on me, but she doesn’t know that.”
“If you harm her, I’ll find a way to kill you too. People said fairies couldn’t die until I killed one. I wouldn’t bet against me.” I leaned over him, using my inch of height to try to intimidate the Lord of Destruction. I had a history of picking fights with entities I couldn’t possibly hope to win, but when my family and friends were threatened, reason went out the window.
“Oh, please. Your righteous fury is very touching, but you needn’t worry. It’s so much more entertaining to torment Ari with everyday evils.” Nickolas Scratch rolled his eyes. “Also, I brought her a pet.”
Ari’s last dog, a hellhound named Yeller, had been kicked out of Inferno for being a runt and not devouring souls fast enough. “She doesn’t want a puppy.”
Nick turned and walked to Ari’s staircase, where a produce box sat. “How will she feel about three of them?” He opened the box, and three puppy heads with glowing red eyes poked out.
“She’ll kill you. I wouldn’t bet against her either.”
Nick reached in and lifted out a single body attached to all three heads. “These guys were getting picked on for not devouring the damned fast enough. I couldn’t help thinking of her. The other day she told me how much she missed Yeller, or as we called him, Hellhound 122387548.”
Even standing in the presence of the master of Inferno, my blood turned to ice. “When did you see her?”
“She invited me over to talk about Black Magic. Wanted my blessing for some rituals that I haven’t seen for a while.”
“Please tell me you didn’t say yes.”
Nick shook his head. “That’s not up to me. Or you. The princess will make her own decisions.”
“Do you know where she is?”
Nick unplugged Ari’s television and bent the prong so it wouldn’t fit tightly. “No idea, but if you catch up with her, tell her to be careful. I wouldn’t wish those spells on anyone, but I won’t stop humans from performing them if it’s their choice.”
I left the devil in my best friend’s living room, feeding pairs of her designer shoes to a single puppy, and drove to Wyatt’s house. Technically, his mother’s house.
She met me at the door, her face lined with worried wrinkles. “Young woman, you are too late. They left to prepare for the ritual a hour ago.”
“Where? When?”
“I believe they intend to dispatch a few wandering monsters, then . . . perform a secret ritual.” She sat down on her porch swing, looking lost.
“Where is Wyatt?”
“With Arianna. You know, he truly loves her.” A tear glistened at the edge of her eye.
“I know.”
“Then go home, and wait, just as I will. My son will not come home after this. I know it.” She hung her head.
I ran for the car, decided that come hell or high water, I wouldn’t be the reason my friends died. I could try to meet Liam and Ari at the bridge, but that would only help if I had a column of tanks to back them up. Thing was, I knew someone who might be able to pull it off. I just needed to make Grimm pay attention to me, and the Agency, that was his baby. Odds were, he’d be paying at least partial attention to what happened there. As fast as the traffic allowed, I raced there. When I pulled into the parking garage, I ran past the cargo workers and straight into the stairwell. From there, I made it up to our floor in record time.
I stood in the stairwell, planning my next move. Service entrance, secret entrance, or front lobby—no matter which way, I was likely to encounter hostile employees. One employee, in particular, was hostile before, during, and after I worked with her.
I reached for the stairwell door and it blew open, hitting me in the face.
“Hands up.” Rosa’s voice boomed in the stairwell.
I opened my eyes to find a shotgun pointed squarely at my head.
Twenty-Four
“ON YOUR KNEES, hands in the air.” Rosa spoke without waiting for me, taking a step into the stairwell with me. The better to blow a hole straight through me.
“I need to speak to Fairy Godfather.” I forced my eyes to stay open, still seeing pixies from where my head had an unexpected meeting with the door.
She shook her head. “He isn’t answering us anymore.”
Those words hit me harder than any shotgun blast, ever. Not their content. Their length. Rosa avoided speaking in complete sentences where I was involved. Grunts and baleful stares were as much her native tongue as Spanish.
“He’s helping Arianna and Liam with a ritual. I need to find them. Please.”
Rosa hefted the shotgun, holding it with her off hand, since there was no way her wounds had healed. “This is all your fault. I told him, make the girl be a shopkeeper. Make the girl be some princess’s handmaiden. But does he listen to me? No. He says, ‘Rosa, be nice to the new girl. She’ll be my new agent.’ You never fooled me.” Rosa slipped the safety off, peering down the barrel at me.
I struggled to keep from lunging at her, held in place only by the knowledge that even in her stitched-up state, she could pull the trigger faster than I could grab her. “I’m sick of you blaming me for everything. I never did anything to you.”
“You brought another fairy down on us, and a crazy queen, and hordes of demons. The wheel of cheese had your name on it. You cause nothing but trouble.”
Now, the demons, I was guilty as charged. Tricked, but guilty. The crazy queen, sort of, but then again, the queen’s son had planned to toss Ari out a window after marrying her. The fairy was going to cause trouble to begin with, but the cheese, that was not my fault.
I gathered myself for a lunge, and nearly shrieked when the stairwell door pushed open.
Mikey poked his head in through the door, standing so tall he grazed the exit sign. “Everything okay in here?”
“This doesn’t concern you, Michael. Go back to cargo.” Rosa swung the shotgun around in his direction. “Go on.”
“Marissa, last time I checked, humans are lousy at regeneration.” Mikey looked over to me.
Rosa bumped him in the chest with the barrel. “Get out, Michael. This doesn’t concern you.”
The darkest part of me leaped to the fore, screaming to do what it did best. Watching her turn her beef with me on other people made me so angry the world went white. My upraised hands turned to fists, and my right hand closed around a familiar weight. The thorn sword handle, called by my anger.
“Rosa, I said you were fired.” I waited, and as she swung back to me, I summoned the blade, driving it through the middle of her shotgun like it was licorice.
<
br /> Her gun roared and exploded in her hands, the shells disintegrating. I lunged to my feet, slamming her back into the wall, and bore down on the shoulder with stitches.
Rosa shrieked in pain and collapsed in front of me. She didn’t get up.
The sword in my hand called to me, for blood and vengeance. Revenge for every time she’d treated me like trash or ignored me. She’d given me more curses than an army of sailor witches, and more evil eyes than a convention of auditors with glasses.
The shadow me wanted to kill her. It was right, it whispered. She deserved it.
With that thought, the Black Queen’s words came back to me. How it would be easier and easier to kill. With a gasp, I threw the sword down the stairs, where it clattered against the metal.
Mikey sat down on the stairs, motioning for me to join him. “She really doesn’t like you.”
“I know, and as much as I want to repay her for treating me like crap, I don’t have time. I have to find Liam and Ari.”
“They left thirty minutes ago through the portal. They even brought that string bean of a boyfriend with them.” Mikey reached over and checked Rosa’s for a pulse. “Good news is, she’s too mean to die. Bad news is, she’ll still be as mean when she wakes up.”
“What were they going to do with Wyatt?”
“Heck if I know. Magic is a bunch of gibberish, but I’m guessing from the way he looked, he’s the sacrifice in the ritual to give her power.” Mikey caught the look of fear and shock on my face and shrugged. “Hey, it’s the best he could do. You know, he mentioned wanting to do his part, and the blood of a prince ought to do the trick. You know, Black Magic ain’t free.”
I stood, and stumbled down a couple of stairs. “Then I’m too late. Kyra is taking over an army of those abominations. Death told me I had to stop her, but I don’t have an army. I don’t even have an agency.”
Mikey nodded. “Isn’t everyone trying to rescue you? I mean, that’s the point of all this, right?”
“I’ve never really been the type to get rescued.” I let gravity lead me down the stairs. When I last looked back, Mikey was still sitting on the stairwell next to Rosa, lost in thought.
• • •
DESPITE GRIMM’S PREDICTIONS, I made it back to my place without being mangled by anything or anyone. I’d formulated a new plan along the way. One that involved my taking a suitcase full of cash and purchasing shoulder-mounted rocket launchers, then surprising Ari and Liam. Nothing says I love you like rocket-propelled weapons.
In the empty apartment, I wallowed in tears and cereal while I made a few cell phone calls to my black-market arms suppliers. While I waited for back-alley deals to come together, I poured a bowl of cereal and drowned my loneliness with milk, sugar, and processed grain.
The knock at my door I dismissed as an errant Jehovah’s Witness, a Girl Scout selling cookies, or the fire department, here to tell me that once more, my building was on fire. I didn’t care. The problem was, whoever it was kept knocking.
And knocking.
“Go away.” I didn’t get up.
“Marissa, it’s me.” Mikey’s voice caught me off guard. The wolf had never come to my house. Not ever. The fact that I still shot him on occasion probably factored into it a little.
“Go away, Mikey.”
“I’ll let you shoot me. Open the door so I can come in and talk to you. I figure you shouldn’t be alone.” He resumed pounding, so hard it made the door flex with each blow.
“Not by the hair on my chinny chin chin.” I could make a pig of myself in private. I reached over to pour some more milk, aiming for that perfect cereal sugar sludge, when the door exploded.
I leaped to my feet, frantically searching for my gun. As the drywall dust settled, a hulking form, eight feet tall, black fur with a gray stripe down his back, emerged, tossing the doorknob to the side. “I’ll huff, Marissa, and puff, and kick the door in.” He spoke in his true voice, the guttural growl of a wolf.
“Go away,” I said. “You don’t want to be here. Probably not good for you.”
He changed, melting slowly back into Intern Mikey instead of Monster Nightmare Mikey. “Marissa, come on. I’m a wolf. You’re the pet of the most evil queen ever. We can totally hang out. Matter of fact, if that bitch shows her head, I’m likely—”
“Don’t.” The fear came for real, a sharp tingling cold that radiated from my spine. “Don’t say a thing. Today, Kyra will claim her army, receive who only knows what kind of powers, and kill most of Kingdom. I can’t stop her, but I’m getting ready to make a stand of my own. I’d rather you didn’t get killed.”
He grinned, his teeth still sharp. “I knew you cared about me. Sure, you’ve emptied more rounds into me than a target dummy, but you always keep your rifling nice and clean, and you use high-quality ammo. I’m hungry.”
Feed a wolf. Always feed a hungry wolf, to keep them from feeding themselves. “Cereal? I have—”
The look on his face said cereal wasn’t what he had in mind. He loped into the kitchen and threw open my fridge. “Sweet Kingdom, Marissa. You need to hit the grocery store. And the butcher.” He turned around and grabbed the other fridge door.
“Don’t mess with that.” I threw a spoon at him. “That’s from the Agency. Sent here as a warning.”
“You got free food? Sweet. You know, Fairy Godfather made me keep my lunches in my private fridge. I wasn’t allowed to go near this one.”
Most wolves considered hunks of rotten meat good dining material. Grimm’s arrangement for a private fridge for Mikey probably saved us a number of conflicts, and I’d personally ordered all the interns to stay away from the main one after altercations with the cheese claimed too many lives.
Mikey wrenched the door clean off. Now Grimm would make me pay for a new fridge. “Marissa.” The growl in his voice shook, as if he fought an internal battle.
“Don’t touch it. It might be the only thing worse than the Black Queen.”
Mikey reached inside and slid the wheel of cheese out, gingerly carrying it over to the table. “Where did you get this?” His fingers ended in long claws, and with each breath, ripples of fur grew out from his skin, then retracted in.
While he fixed his gaze on the cheese, I slid the chair back, forming a plan. Straight to the kitchen, out the window, jump. Three stories down to the Dumpster—I might survive. I glanced up at him one more time and found red eyes fixed on me.
“Don’t move, Marissa.” He reached out with one monstrous claw and put it on my shoulder. “Don’t run. Answer the question.”
I did my best to ignore the threat of disembowelment and poured a mountain of cereal into my bowl. “My first birthday after I came to work for Grimm, he threw a party. Only one he ever threw that didn’t end in a disaster. Next morning, we found it in the office fridge, with my name on the box. You don’t want to pick a fight with the cheese, Mikey. I’ve lost count of the number of people who died trying to remove it, or sample it.”
Mikey laughed, a guttural growl and howl combination. “Lupa’s Tears were not meant for humans.” He held up a claw and ran it along the top of the wheel, cutting into the rind. In response, a gash like an axe wound opened up across his head, gushing blood. Mikey licked the tip of his claw and shivered as the wounds closed. “It’s time I had a slice.”
Mikey rose and walked into the kitchen, going through my drawers. “Go on, ask.”
“No, thank you.” Ignorance really is bliss.
“Don’t want to know what you had in your fridge? Lupa’s Tears, Marissa. The holy grail for wolves. Made from the breast milk of Lupa herself, when she suckled the first wolves.” He drew out a serrated knife and walked over, twirling it.
“Why is it called her tears?”
“We wolves are born with full sets of teeth. If you had to breast-feed six of them, you’d cry too.” He slid out the
chair, becoming more and more wolf with each moment. Then with a single, swift movement, he stabbed the cheese.
His eyeballs exploded, ruining my cereal.
Mikey waited until they took shape again, and cut. As the knife slid, bones crushed in his chest, and for a moment he turned blue, gasping for air. With a fork, he teased out a wedge onto the plate. “Care for a bite?”
I shook my head, as he spit out a tooth onto the plate.
“Your loss.” With that, he cut into the wedge, spraying blood out his back, and put the bite into his throat. The sounds, the carnage, the spray of flesh, all meant one thing. There was no way in hell I’d get my deposit back.
• • •
I CAN’T SAY how long I hid under the table, while Mikey turned my apartment into a disgusting painting made from his own gore. While it might have been only minutes, I would have sworn it took hours. My cell phone rang exactly once, and Mikey threw it straight through the window. When his chair squealed, scraping back across the floor, I nearly screamed too.
Mikey threw the table off of me and roared, shaking the walls, and probably convincing the neighbors that Liam and I were fighting. I looked up and marveled. His fur, tinged with green, rippled with muscles. Mikey always had the bodybuilder figure, but that cheese gave him power like I’d never seen.
“Come.” He grabbed me by the shoulder, slicing through my blouse. “Forget whatever you had planned. It’s time to make things right, and get you an army of your own.”
Twenty-Five
GOING ANYWHERE WITH a wolf is usually a bad idea. Going anywhere with a wolf who can’t control his own changing, even worse. To top things off, as we raced down the highway at more than a hundred miles per hour, I held a wheel of the most evil cheese on earth in my lap. From what I could tell, the cheese was one of the “Do unto others” variety, so I held it with utmost care.
We made exactly one stop, at a costume store, where Mikey fit right in, wearing what the owner said was the gnarliest wolf-man costume in history. And he was so right. Mikey repaid his compliment by actually paying for a costume instead of stealing it and daring the owner to shoot him.