Subversive Giants: A Supernatural Action Adventure Opera (War of the Damned Book 6)

by Michael Todd

  She smirked. “Okay. I’m Mist.”

  Juntto shifted closer and looked down at her with a coy smile. “Mist, like the rain?”

  She giggled. “Yeah, like that. You aren’t from around here, are you?”

  Juntto shook his head. “No, is it that obvious?”

  “Your accent is hot.” She smiled and ran her finger down Juntto’s stomach and below his belt buckle.

  A man with a bald head and a strap of a beard walked up and put one arm around Mist. He put his mouth on her ear. “What are you doing over here?”

  She smacked her gum. “Getting a drink.”

  “Oh yeah? Is this lumberjack-looking motherfucker bothering you?” The guy looked Juntto up and down, but the frost giant wasn’t looking at him. He was staring straight into the crowd, taking a nonchalant sip of his drink.

  The guy grabbed Mist’s ass and pushed her out of his way. He stepped to Juntto. “Hey, fucker, I’m fucking talking to you. You come into our territory, and then you act rude to me?”

  Juntto glanced at the guy and took another sip of his drink. He almost looked bored.

  The guy’s friend rolled up and slapped his friend on the chest. “What are you doing, dude?”

  The guy stared angrily at Juntto. “This prick came into our club and is being rude to me. He won’t even look me in the eye when I’m talking to him. He thinks this is some sort of fucking game.”

  His friend looked Juntto over, putting his thumbs through his suspenders. “Oh, yeah? Does he know how you carved up the last asshole who wandered in off the street?”

  The guy chuckled, still staring at Juntto. “You know, I don’t think so. I like to show rather than tell. Sometimes guys like this, with their plaid shirts and expensive fucking boots, come rolling in here and just need to get their fucking asses kicked. I mean they need a boot shoved so far up their ass that they walk funny for a little while.”

  The guys laughed, but Juntto just yawned, still not looking at them. The guy turned and pulled up his shirt sleeve, slapping his neo-Nazi tattoo. “You see this, prick? You’re supposed to respect the supreme, and this means I am one of those.”

  Juntto finished his drink and set it on the bar, carefully wiping his lips. He turned to the guy and stared at him for a moment. “I like your attitude, but can you fuck with that big dick you’re swinging around? When you say you have a twelve-inch dick, you should just whip it out.”

  Beside them, Mist giggled. The guy’s face fell, then he reared back and swung hard at Juntto. His hand contacted Juntto’s face, and there it just stopped. It didn’t even dent Juntto’s skin.

  Instead, the guy screeched and pulled his broken and bloodied fist back. Juntto lunged forward and punched the guy three times in the stomach as hard as he could. The guy fell to the floor, writhing in the fetal position.

  Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked down at their friend. Instantly, the fight was on, with people lunging left and right for Juntto. He kept calm, swinging every chance he got. One guy came up behind him and jumped on Juntto’s back, but he grabbed the man’s arm and flipped him over the pool table. He grabbed the pool balls and grinned. He threw the balls, one after the other, at his attackers. Noses broke, teeth spun across the dance floor, and a few guys dropped to their knees clutching bruised nuts.

  Juntto spun and caught a pool stick as someone swung at him. He snatched it from the guy and broke it in half.

  He grinned deviously. “Two spears. I told that idiot Moloch. Two spears!” Juntto commenced beating the fuck out of everyone who was left. He was getting tired of the pricks, but he was pretty impressed with how hard they fought.

  As he reached the center of the room, the guys pulled themselves together. They were bruised and bleeding, but now they were furious.

  Juntto laughed and clacked his new spears together. “That’s all you big guys got? Come on, challenge me!”

  With that, five guys ran forward at once, jumping on top of Juntto and muscling him to the floor. They wrestled him down and pinned his hands to the ground. Mist’s boyfriend with his chin-strap beard walked forward with an evil grin on his face. He was holding a knife in his hand and stood over Juntto.

  Juntto smiled at him. “Is that for me?”

  “It sure is, prick,” the guy growled as he lifted the knife.

  Juntto gritted his teeth and used his enormous strength to yank one arm free. He used the broken pool cue to slash at the men holding him, and suddenly both arms were free. The pool cues broke flesh and shattered teeth. Juntto rose with his spears and stared with wild eyes at the man holding the knife.

  “I guess this just got serious.”

  The man lunged. He swung the knife right and left, but Juntto was faster. He thrust both broken pool cues into the man’s chest and drove them deep. The man gurgled once, then died.

  Juntto pulled his spears free of the dead man and walked to where Mist was cowering near the bar. The sounds of her cries were loud in the place. Juntto realized he’d managed to kill everyone in the place, minus a couple of guys with broken bones who were moaning and whimpering on the ground.

  He decided to ignore the girl. Instead, he nodded at the bartender and placed both halves of the broken pool cue on the bar. “One shot of tequila.”

  Mist screamed and stood, and Juntto’s hand shot out. He caught her in the back of the head, and she slid to the ground, unconscious.

  The bartender shook as he poured the drink. Juntto knocked it back. “Don’t be nervous. I always respect those who give me free drinks.”

  The police sirens blared loudly outside.

  Juntto sighed. He jumped over the bar, grabbed another bottle of tequila and left the bar by the back door. He found himself in an alley. “The polizei are getting faster, yes? Or maybe I am just getting slower. I will have to work on my technique a bit. It’s been a couple thousand years.”

  He popped the top off the bottle and headed into the darkness of the alley, guzzling the tequila as he walked.

  Inside, the police asked the bartender questions. “Où est-il allé? A quoi ressemblait-il?”

  The bartender, stunned, shook his head. “He was a badass, that’s what he was.”

  The fire crackled loudly in the fireplace in Moloch’s office. He tapped his long talons on his desk, trying to piece together everything he knew about Pandora’s sighting. He scribbled something on a piece of paper and held it up as he paced the room.

  “She entered with seven others through a gate. They had some sort of equipment, and the two humans left early. The Damned, wearing special suits, fought off the demons. Pandora exited her human again, and grew to eighty feet tall and kicked my demon in the balls. Then they all left.” Moloch scratched his head.

  He read it over and over, not understanding what in the hell was going on. Finally, he balled up the piece of paper and chucked it hard into the fire, frustrated. Sparks shot up as it burned. He went to get a drink from his bar. He stopped and glanced at the television, quickly reading the headline at the bottom. “Massacre at Swiss Bar.”

  He grabbed the carafe of whiskey and the goblet of blood and hit the volume on the remote. A red-haired woman was bundled up in a jacket in front of a nightclub. There were police everywhere. “According to witnesses, this man came in for a drink, not knowing this is one of the more controversial clubs in this mountain town. It’s a well-known neo-Nazi hangout, and they don’t usually do well with strangers. The report says he got in a fight with a local, and things began to escalate from there. In the end, he left forty-three people dead, six critically injured with stab wounds, and a half-dozen being treated for broken bones and concussions.”

  A sketch popped up on the screen, and Moloch burst out laughing. The newscaster continued, “This is an artist’s rendition of the assailant done with the assistance of the only conscious survivor, the bartender. They say he’s about six feet tall, medium build, and has medium-length dark hair with a white stripe down the side. He has a thick accent as w
ell.”

  The television switched over to the reporter standing beside the bartender. “We are here with Markus Khlur, the bartender in the establishment. Markus, I know this has been a shocking day for you and a crazy turn of events, but can you tell us what the man was like? Anything that can help us track him down?”

  The bartender smiled and shook his head, a crazy chuckle under his breath. “He was like a Greek god!”

  The reporter glanced nervously at the camera and held the microphone out to the guy. “A Greek god?”

  The bartender nodded. “He never bled, never groaned, and never showed any weakness. He took down the whole place by himself. He took a shot before he left, and disappeared into the dark.”

  Moloch picked up the remote and clicked off the sound. He added whiskey to his blood and took a great gulp of the concoction. He started to laugh. “There you are, you sick bastard.”

  He clicked the sound back on as the bartender continued the story. “There were bodies everywhere. I don’t know. He was probably one of the Damned who didn’t like their politics.”

  Moloch leaned forward, almost spitting out his drink. “He’s not Damned! He’s a fucking Leviathan, you Swiss idiots! Goddamned humans can’t even keep their species straight. He would come back and take a bite out of your ass if he heard you call him Damned. As if there’s a drop of human blood in that man. Greek god is closer than Damned.”

  Moloch sighed and poured another drink. “What a prick.”

  24

  Katie laid down on the squeaky bunk. Her whole body ached, but she was glad to be back in the barracks, even if it wasn’t home. The guys had all been attended to by medical and were resting quietly in their own rooms. Calvin was the only one still up, watching the bay to make sure a portal didn’t suddenly spring open.

  Pandora yawned. I don’t know why that man doesn’t try to get some sleep.

  He’s always like that. Too jacked up after a fight to get any rest. He’ll crash eventually, or round two will kick in, and then he’ll crash. It’s just the way he works.

  Pandora grumbled something and then fell quiet.

  Katie chuckled. Good night to you, too.

  She curled her arms around the pillow and snuggled down. Just as she was almost asleep, her phone went off loudly. Pandora jumped into Katie. Holy mother of Lucifer, a band is in your room.

  Katie groaned and threw back the covers. It’s just the phone.

  She picked it up when she saw the general’s name on the screen. “Do you have someone watching me so that every time I lay down to sleep, you can call?”

  The general chuckled but only momentarily. “I’m sorry, Katie, but I need to speak to Pandora.”

  “Oh sure, sure. I’m just Pandora’s secretary. Hold, please.”

  Pandora quickly took Katie over without her having to ask. She held the phone to the side, addressing Katie. “It’s about time you recognized that. I’ve been wondering if you’re slow or just obstinate.”

  The general didn’t say anything. He wasn’t yet accustomed to the way the two of them addressed each other. He couldn’t tell if they loved each other, hated each other, or if it oscillated between the two. Either way, it was usually entertaining.

  Pandora rolled her eyes as Katie curled up in the background. “Yes, General. I’m sure whatever it is warrants a call right after a battle in hell.”

  The general let out a long dramatic breath. “Unfortunately, it does. We’ve had a weird sighting, and I need to know if you think this is a normal powerful Damned causing a problem or something else.”

  Pandora cringed. “Uh-oh, this sounds like it is a heavy one.”

  The general shook his head. “You have no idea. It would take something pretty badass to do this type of damage in the amount of time it was done. And apparently, the person or creature walked away without a scratch. Unfortunately, he is being hailed as a Greek god of sorts among some of the residents in the town where it occurred. I’m sending over pictures of the crime scene right now.”

  The phone buzzed in Pandora’s ear. “Hold, please, while I look them over.”

  The first images were crime scene photos, then they changed to stills from the bar’s security cameras. She flipped through them, watching Juntto as he fought off dozens of skinheads. The low lighting and the quick movements made it hard to see a clear image, but the puddles of blood on the floor were unmistakable. So was the last image. In it, the man smiled as he took a shot of liquor.

  Pandora grunted. “Well, sonofabitch. Yeah, that’s no Damned. That’s Juntto, the Leviathan I told you about earlier. He’s shrunk to human size, but that’s him.”

  The general cleared his throat nervously. “Are you sure?”

  Pandora nodded. “Mmhmm. If I didn’t see it in the creepy smile or the way he moved, the silver streak in his hair is a dead giveaway. He has that no matter what he shifts into.”

  Pandora went silent for a moment, letting her mind wrap around the fact that Juntto was back. She had been told about it, but she hadn’t wanted to believe it was true. Now that she saw it with her own eyes, she couldn’t deny it.

  He was a badass from what she could remember.

  “General, we will go have a talk with Juntto. I cannot stress this enough, though. You need to try your best to avoid him until we get there. He’s a wildcard, and he gives no fucks. He will fight us, and to be honest, he’s not anyone I want to mess with right now.”

  The general rubbed his chin. “What kind of tactics are you saying to avoid?”

  “The kind that would piss off anyone. No strike teams, no scrambling fighters. Don’t even say his name in a snooty manner. Look, there’s nothing really more to say about him at this point. Just know that he’s not the dude to fuck with. I think Katie and I can take care of it if I play it right.”

  The general wanted to ask more questions, but it was obvious Pandora was done answering. “Okay. I understand. Let’s talk about logistics, then. Can we get you, Calvin, and the military team together to find him? I don’t want you and Katie going at this alone.”

  “Hey, the more, the merrier. Not like we just got back from hell or anything.”

  “I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.”

  “I’m just screwing with you. Our team will be ready. We need to find him, sit down with him, and figure out what he wants. If it’s something we can handle, then great—he should lay low for a while.”

  The general sat up straight in his chair. “Pandora, we do not negotiate or make deals with killers. I’m sure that after centuries on this planet, you know the United States does not negotiate with terrorists.”

  Pandora laughed. “Please. Don’t give me that crap. Besides, that’s like saying you’re upset with a lion because he eats raw meat. He isn’t from Earth, remember?”

  The general was defiant. “I don’t give a good goddamn what dimension or planet he’s from. A killer is a killer just the same. Do you think we’re going to give this guy what he wants and hope he doesn’t kill anymore? Yeah, right. One thing I’ve learned is that once a killer, always one. It doesn’t matter what you give them. I could see it in his eyes in the video. He is stone cold.”

  “That is definitely one thing you’ve got right. He is a stone-cold killer. Look, General, there are going to be more deaths. There’s no way around it. At this point, we have to play our cards right. The question now is whether it will be from our side or the demons’. I can promise you, he dislikes us both equally. A body is a body. He probably threw that woman over the side of the mountain because she annoyed him. That’s where his mind is.”

  It took the general by surprise when Pandora talked about their side versus the demons. She really was on the side of the humans, now, and she was in it to win it. She jumped in front of demons and protected humans, and never once had they seen her pause or question her actions. She had even taken the head off her own brother during the first major incursion.

  Finally, the general replied, “I got you, Pan
dora. We will follow your lead. You know this guy better than any of us, and you are part of the team.”

  The team watched out the window as the plane began its descent into Switzerland. It touched down on the runway hard and came to a slow rolling stop on the snow. Turner groaned as he reached into the compartment over his seat and pulled out his jacket. “I got bruises on my bruises.”

  The tattooed soldier wrapped a scarf tightly around his neck. “We go from hotter than life to colder than a witch’s titty. Wonderful.”

  Brock chuckled and slapped him on the back. “At least you know for sure you can survive it.”

  They grabbed their bags and stepped off the plane. Katie pulled her coat around her tightly and pulled her woolen cap over her ears. Suddenly, she longed for the coolness of the fall in New York. That was something she could live with. She wanted to run as far as she could from the bitter cold of Switzerland.

  Calvin hopped down from the plane wearing just a T-shirt. He looked around excitedly. “I always wanted to come to Switzerland.”

  Katie rolled her eyes as she walked past him. “Too bad we’re hunting a murderous Leviathan who may want to rip off your Röstis and flush them.”

  Calvin grimaced, putting his hand over his crotch. “That does not sound like a reasonable guy. Why do we always get stuck with the unreasonable guys?”

  Katie laughed and followed the team to a fleet of waiting cars.

  Juntto snored loudly. He had a pillow over his head to block out the light coming in around the edges of the window shade. His clothes, or the clothes of the hiker, were scattered on the floor. The hiker’s credit cards were laid out on the table. Two empty pizza boxes were stacked by the trash can, and three empty bottles of tequila were lined up next to them.

  Suddenly, Juntto sat straight up in the bed. There was a loud banging on his hotel room door, and it seemed to shake his brain. He rubbed his face and looked at the time. It was the middle of the day. “I fucking forgot about humans and their need for loud fucking noises!”