by Ben Reeder
“Smells like it, but…” I took a deep breath in through my noise. The smell of grave mold made me want to sneeze, but I didn’t catch the distinctive pepper smell I got from Thraxus and his court, or the corrupted, rotting undertone I had picked up while we’d been dealing with Etienne’s brood. Instead, I picked up several scents layered on top of each other. “I don’t recognize any of the scents.”
“Scents?” Lucas asked. He pulled the paintball pistol from his belt and moved toward the center of the room.
“Yeah. Three or four at least.”
“Are they from…?” she almost asked, going pale.
“Thraxus doesn’t seem like a guy who does anything half-assed,” Lucas said. “He would have sent something tougher than a Renfield.”
Before I could respond, two of them burst through the windows on separate walls, both coming straight for me. I reached up and caught them by the throat. Their momentum brought their feet swinging forward, and I flexed my shoulders to bring the backs of their heads down onto the concrete floor. Two more came flying toward us, but Lucas nailed them in mid-air, sending them flying back out into the dark with explosive rounds to the chest. I had to hand it to him, he’d chosen a good spot. Now anyone coming in through either window was coming right down his line of fire.
“Come on out, Midnight,” someone called from the darkness outside. “You know what we want.”
Lucas rolled his eyes and shook his head. “I’m never gonna live that stupid name down,” he muttered. “No, I really don’t,” he called out. The smell of grave mold got stronger, and I heard the scuff of shoe leather on the floor. I turned and started to move toward Monica a split second too late, and saw the ghoul grab her from behind. Two more leapt in through the windows, and Lucas and I were too busy taking care of them to help her. I punched into the middle of the chest of the one that flew toward me, and Lucas hit his high in the chest with an explosive round. The one I hit was dead before it bounced off the edge of the window, and Lucas’s spun in the air before he hit the ground on his back. Lucas walked up on his, planted his foot on the guy’s chest and pointed the paintball gun at his face. His expression didn’t change when he pulled the trigger. Both of us turned toward the ghoul that had Monica. He’d backed her up near the massive stone fireplace and was peering over her shoulder at us. His hand was at her throat as he pulled her back at a painful angle. As her spine arched, her right arm came out to keep her balance. She whimpered and Lucas brought the paintball gun up.
“We both know you don’t have the balls to pull that trigger,” the ghoul laughed. “Besides, if you hit me, you’ll kill the girl, too.”
“If you hurt her,” Lucas said in a voice that chilled my soul, “you’ll be a long time wishing you were dead.”
“We want the book, not the girl,” the ghoul said. “But we’ll settle for her until you give it to us.” He was so distracted with making his demand that he missed it when Monica’s arm stopped moving. But I didn’t, and neither did Lucas. Her hand closed on the heavy iron poker and she swung it over her right shoulder. I heard the snap of bone breaking, and the ghoul let her go, his right hand unresponsive. He went to punch her with his left hand, but only got air as she spun away from him and got a two handed grip on the poker, then started to beat him with it. She got in three good hits before Lucas nailed him with an explosive round. It was enough to hurt him, but not enough to end him. I took a moment to listen, but I didn’t hear anyone moving outside. That would change as they healed up, but for now, we had a few seconds, maybe even a whole minute to retreat.
“Come on,” I ordered. “We’ve got to get the hell out of here.” We bolted for the door.
“Where are we going?” Lucas asked as we headed for our rides.
“I’ll tell you on the way,” I said as I put my helmet on and activated the Bluetooth. “Just head for the city.” I heard his Barracuda rumble to life as my bike turned over. We took the main road out, and sure enough, there were several cars at the main gate to the campground. My fingers flexed in my riding gloves as I rode by, toying with the idea of disabling their vehicles. But I didn’t want any of them sticking around, and I could already hear some of the ghouls running up the road behind us. Lucas hit the gas as soon as his tires hit asphalt, and I revved the Ninja to keep up with him. I looked back over my shoulder, but didn’t see any headlights for more than a mile. That would change, I was sure, but we had a good lead for now.
“Call Lucas,” I said. A few seconds later, a ringtone sounded in my ear, then Lucas’s voice.
“Midnight’s Fugitive Transport Service,” he said as we passed an eighteen wheeler. “Are we out of range of any super-duper hearing?”
“For the moment, yes. First things first. We’re heading for the Hive. I think I know who can help us keep Ch- um, Monica safe until this gets settled.”
“Are we talking about the Red Lady?” Lucas asked.
“The one and only. Now, next problem. They’re after some book, and they think you have it. Are they right?”
“Maybe. I’m not sure, but if it’s the one with the rite they were trying to cast earlier tonight, I know where it is.”
“And that answers my next question.”
“Hopefully with a ‘No we can’t let them have it’ answer.”
“Add an expletive to the beginning and you’re right,” I told him.
“They’re bad people, so I can clearly not give the book to them, but I’m not strong enough to keep it safe, so I can clearly not keep the book with me.”
“Truly, you have a dizzying intellect,” I quoted back to him. “So, there’s really only one thing we can do: Give it to someone more powerful.”
“The Doctor?”
“The Doctor.”
“He’s gonna be pissed,” Lucas said after a moment.
“Nothing new,” I said. Headlights showed up in my rear view mirror. “Okay, our friends are back. They’re focusing on you.”
“So I’m the bait, got it. Try not to take too long, okay?”
“You’re a dangerous man, Lucas Kale. I won’t be long at all.” I hit the button to disconnect the call and took the next off ramp, hoping our new friends ignored me to concentrate on Lucas. Once off the freeway, I twisted the throttle and felt the bike surge forward underneath me. It was hard not to rip the helmet off so I could feel the wind on my face, but the more practical, human part of me remembered that I needed to be able to call Lucas later. As the bike accelerated along the frontage road, I leaned forward over the handlebars and looked to my left. Three cars had pulled up to Lucas’s Barracuda and were trying to box him in. Lucas, of course, was not about to let that happen.
The trunk of the car in front of him went up in flames, then the entire rear blew apart, forcing him to slow down and swerve to avoid catching fire himself. As the two remaining vehicles rejoined the pursuit, I saw the sign for the on-ramp I needed. I had half a mile to go before I was back in the chase. The ‘Cuda roared and surged forward, and one of the two chase cars managed to keep up with him. The other pulled up behind him and stayed just behind his right bumper. Lucas hit the gas, but both cars stayed even with him. They weren’t a match for my Ninja, though.
I twisted the throttle and got ahead of them, then took the ramp. Once on the freeway again, I slowed down and let them pass, then throttled up again and came up behind the chase car. They didn’t see me until it was almost too late. The rear drivers side window came down as I pulled up beside them, and a guy popped out of the window with a little box of a submachine gun. I snatched it out of his hands before he could fire and bashed him in the face with it. He slumped against the door, and I tucked the little gun into my jacket for later. I needed that hand for the throttle again. I came up beside the car again and gained a couple of feet on the driver's side door before I let go of the throttle, pulled the clutch and smashed the glass. Then I grabbed the driver’s hair and smashed his face into the steering wheel a couple of times. With the car no longer under anyon
e’s control, I had to hit the brakes hard and swerve around it. That left the other car that had been trying to force Lucas into the concrete median.
Lucas also braked hard, then came around to the passenger side. He held back and I took that as my cue. I got in front of him and pointed the gun at the tire, then pulled the trigger. The stubby little gun burped and sparks flew from the front fender. I adjusted my aim a little and pulled the trigger again, and this time, I was rewarded with the sound of a tire blowing. Lucas blew the back tire clean off the car. Show off. I tossed the sub gun into a dumpster once we got off the freeway, and we took the scenic route to the main entrance of the Hive.
The Hive is like Wal-Mart: it’s always open for business, and the real oddballs shop after midnight. I shifted my eyes slightly so I could see the Spirit Realm, and found the iron gate behind the illusion of a brick wall. Lucas didn’t seem to have a problem finding it, but Monica seemed confused for a moment, until we temporarily broke the illusion by passing through it. She clung to Lucas’s arm as soon as she saw the throng of beings that waited for us inside. We wove our way through the bustling crowd, sharing space with as many species of magickal being as I’d ever seen. Skin in every color of the rainbow was being flashed by customers and vendors alike, especially by the ones who peddled their own bodies.
I led them down the main drag, a wide spot in the mix of ruined buildings and reconstructed shops that the inhabitants called Easy Street among themselves. A fight broke out across the way, and half the crowd flocked to it, while the other half put a little distance between themselves and the conflict. I gave it a little distance myself, since we had business we needed to see to in a hurry.
With my eye on the other scuffle, I missed the hand that reached out and grabbed my breast and pulled me into an awkward embrace from behind. Something poked at my bottom, and I could feel soft silk against the back of my arms. A heavy musk hit my nose, along with a mossy scent. My muscles froze in place, just like they always did when a man grabbed me. I fought the reflex, but my body refused to listen for a moment.
“Just relax and do as I want, and you will be well paid, little girl,” I heard from over my right shoulder. The words were muffled, like through a mask, and the speaker had an aristocratic sound to his voice. “The worst that you will suffer is that you shall walk with a well-used woman’s gait, and that no human man will ever satisfy you.”
“Let me go now, and you’ll be able to walk away,” I said. Anger overrode my old responses, and my body was mine again. My arms were tense with the need to just hurl this asshole over my shoulder, but if he wore a mask, he probably had bodyguards. And if he was what I thought he was, those bodyguards carried weapons that would hurt me.
“I have two warriors who would debate that point with Elven steel,” Mr. Gropey hissed. Over the noise of the crowd, I heard a familiar sound, a paintball round striking something behind me. The sound repeated, and I heard two somethings hit the ground. “You, on the other hand, have no protector, do you?” His other hand cupped my ass cheek, and I was about done being diplomatic.
“I have one more than you do,” I said. He shifted behind me, and I grabbed the hand on my breast. A twist and a spin bent him over, and I drove my fist into his shoulder. The joint dislocated neatly, and he fell to his knees, screaming in pain. Keeping my promise, I drove my foot down across the back of his calf, and felt one of the bones break. His screams became sobbing gasps, and he passed out. A third figure in silk robes and a mask ran forward, a slim dagger out, but he carried it in a tight fist, almost like he was going to beat something with it instead of stab.
“My lord!” he cried. “Get away from him! You will die for this affront, human. We will kill everyone you care about before we make you beg for your own death!” I ignored him long enough to pull his master’s belt free, then stood up to face the little fop.
“I am no little human girl, Elf,” I hissed as I took a step toward him and let my eyes go wolf. He backed away, and I could see his eyes go wide behind the opening in his mask. The forms and protocols Sinbad had taught me flitted through my head, and I adopted a more formal cadence. “I am Shade, Alpha of the Diamond Lake pack. I call wizards and demons alike friend. So I’m going to warn you to answer my next question with the utmost care, because your entire line will live or die by your answer. What did you just say to me?” As I spoke, Lucas came up and put his paintball gun to the fop’s head, and I could hear him swallow. The street reeked of his sudden fear.
“Nothing of importance?” the fop said.
“That’s what I thought. Oh, and your lord’s apology is accepted,” I said as I held up the belt. He nodded and put the dagger away.
“I see why you and Chance work so well together,” Lucas said when I handed him the belt.
“Why is that?” I asked.
“Because you both have this way of going from zero to nuclear,” he said, opening the larger pouch. “But you’re really polite about it, and you try to warn people. And then the screaming starts.”
In spite of myself, I laughed. “You’re getting there, too, you know,” I said. “So, what did our pointy-eared little pervert have in his pockets?”
“Bunch of gems, a stack of trade bars in both silver and gold, some bearer notes for Bjernings, a few potion bottles for various aphrodisiacs, some for stamina and a few for amnesia. Quite the little date rape kit he had going on here.”
“Yeah, I’m sure he was quite the ladies man,” I said. “Anything else?”
“A dagger and a scroll tube.”
“Monica,” I said as I pulled us off of Easy Street and handed her the dagger. “Take this.”
“It’s dangerous to go alone,” Lucas quoted.
“Even though he’s being facetious, Lucas is right,” I said as Monica took the sheathed dagger and drew it.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered as she examined the gently curved blade. “I’ve heard about Elven steel, but I’ve never seen it. Is everything they say about it true?”
“I don’t know what you’ve heard,” I said. “But it’s enchanted to hurt… or kill… most things. Even me.” Monica’s eyes went wide, and she slid the dagger back into its sheath. “Let’s go. The Elves are far from the worst thing we’re likely to run into in here.”
“Chance never seems to have much trouble here,” Lucas said.
“He’s a guy,” I said as we got moving again. “And he’s got a reputation.” We threaded our way through the crowd, making toward the Warrens, a group of side streets favored by prostitutes and brothels. I could see the two red lamps that bracketed the entrance, and started hustling toward them. We were only a few rods away when a slender, pale white being stepped out in front of us. His eyes were black and his ears were reptilian.
“How much for the girl?” he asked, raising one clawed finger to point at Monica.
“She’s not for sale,” Lucas said with more than a little menace to his voice.
The pale man laughed. “Everything is for sale. It’s just a matter of price.”
Monica wrapped her arm around Lucas’s and bowed her head toward the pale man. “I’m sorry for the confusion, but my master means he isn’t allowed to sell me,” she said, batting her eyes and shaking her head. “I was a gift to him from Lord Thraxus, payment for...services rendered. If he sold me the very next night, it might be seen as… disrespectful.” I fought down a smile as a sharp scent flooded the air, and the pale man’s hand came down. His smile faltered, then returned at full strength before he spoke again.
“If you ever tire of her, I’ll give you five thousand for her. Gold and gems upfront.” Without waiting for a reply, he slipped back into the crowd, and I turned back to Monica with a newfound respect.
“You never cease to amaze,” I said. Monica shrugged and smiled.
“Technically, it was all true,” she said to me. She turned to Lucas, her eyes soft and mirroring her smile. “And if I have to belong to someone, I’d rather belong to you than anyone.�
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“You don’t have to belong to someone,” Lucas said.
“Yeah, but I kinda like it,” she said. Lucas looked at her, then blushed as she whispered, “And I’ll make sure you like it, too.” I turned away and headed for the red lanterns marking the entrance to the Warrens. Once inside, things got quieter. A few ladies and even a couple of the men offered to make our night, but none of the offers were more than half-hearted. I’d been here more than a few times, and I’d seen that most people who made this far were looking for something or someone specific. Not unlike us.
I wound through the maze of broken buildings and streets until I came to a familiar two story place that was mostly intact. A couple of red-skinned Cambions lounged in the windows of the lower floor, and a stocky Hob held up the doorjamb, his own skin a slightly darker shade of red. He raised his chin at me in greeting, then looked to Lucas and Monica.
“Hey, Shade,” he rumbled. “Finally come to get a little red meat?”
“If I wanted a little red meat, you’d be the first Hob I’d talk to,” I said.
“Harsh, girl,” he chuckled. “Harsh. If you’re looking for the lady of the house, she’s with a client.”
“We’ll wait.”
“You know, you didn’t have to bring your own extras if you wanted a threesome,” he said as we walked past him. I showed him my middle finger as I led the others up the stairs. “Any time!” he laughed behind me. I led them up to a room that was almost intact, with only a few visible repairs. Heavy tapestries covered three of the four walls, with only the outer wall left bare. Heavy shutters closed off the two windows, and movie posters were taped to the fading wallpaper and exposed drywall between them. A comfortable, worn leather couch was along the wall next to the door, with a thick pillow resting atop two folded blankets at one end. Two chairs sat in front of the big, antique wooden desk that took up most of the center of the room, with a red leather chair parked behind it like a throne.