"The hell I'm not,” Chase gritted with a dangerous smile. “I'm coming along whether you want me to or not."
"Suit yourself,” Donner said with a shrug. “It was the boss who said you weren't invited. If you want to take the chance of pissing him off, that's your problem, not mine."
"Glad you see it that way,” Chase replied.
This little engagement out of the way—nice to see dissension in the ranks, Ben thought—they continued down the hallway and took a sharp left at the end, revealing a set of wrought iron spiral stairs. Donner pointed downward. Sighing, Ben clunked his way to the bottom, the vibrations ringing through his boot soles and all the way up to his teeth.
He hated iron staircases. Always had. For some inexplicable reason they gave him the willies. Maybe he'd fallen down a set when he was a toddler.
He hesitated a moment in the middle and the Devilish One jabbed him in the back with his barbed tail. “Get moving."
"Do that again,” Ben growled, “and I'm going to rip it off and beat you to death with it."
"You want to die?” the former judge snarled back.
If it gives Amanda an out it might just be a worthwhile trade. “Do you?"
Hissing his annoyance, Donner shoved his shoulder with a foot. “Get down those fucking stairs, boy. We don't have time for you to play ‘I've got a bigger dick than you.’”
"That's a given anyway,” Chase snorted from above them. “If it'll fill a thimble it's a bigger dick than yours, Donner."
"Screw you, lowlife,” Donner snapped back. “You two are really starting to piss me off. And you know what happens when I get pissed off? My fingers get twitchy."
"Oh, shut up, you pompous jackass,” Ben said, turning to glare up at the man. “You ain't going to push that button and you damn well know it. Hades would have your ass for a seat cushion if you did. He wants me alive to ensure Amanda cooperates. Stupid, but there you have it. You keep playing tough guy and I'm going to break your arm and take that goddam trigger away from you. Then you'll be doubly screwed. First I'll do my level best to beat the snot out of you, then Hades will have you drawn and quartered by a pack of slow-moving zombies."
"He's got a point,” Chase offered, his grin obvious though Ben couldn't see it. “Face it ... you don't scare him."
"Who asked you, Chase?"
They continued in sullen silence the rest of the way into the basement, where Donner indicated a large steel door with a walk-in freezer handle. Frowning, Ben pulled it open with the characteristic ker-chunk and stepped inside.
* * * *
"We've got the reports from the casino,” Breed said as she walked into Athena's office. She held a folder up and tossed it down on Athena's desk. “Witnesses have placed a werewolf and a small blond woman on the scene, as well as a number of zombies and several gigantic, bat-winged ‘demons.’”
Athena closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Thanks, Nemesis. I don't know what it all means, but it's pretty obvious that Ben and Amanda are in deep trouble."
The blond cop nodded. “Damn straight. Question is—what are we going to do about it?"
"We? This isn't a TPD matter anymore. It's pure PAC. PARD, to be exact."
Breed shrugged. “You forget, Amanda's my friend, too. I'm not sitting this out. Besides, you really don't have any PARD units yet. Unless there's something you've forgotten to tell me."
Athena shook her head. “Nope. You're right. I'd like to conscript this ‘Raven’ character to be a LEOPARD, but I guess I'd have to find him first."
"How many LEOPARDs do you actually have?"
The Amazon sighed. “Six."
"Fine. Six LEOPARDs might do the job, but only if you know where to send them. I might have a line on that as well."
"Why didn't you say so? Where?"
"Brown's Point. One of the residents called in and reported—get this—small dragons flying over their house last night."
"And we're assuming those dragons are—"
"—the bat-winged demon things which we both recognize as being servants of Hades.” Breed folded her arms and looked down at the immortal with a definite glint of humor in her eye. “Are you going to look at that report or make me deliver the whole thing orally?"
"Hey, you were doing fine. I didn't want to interrupt."
"Wise ass. I've got some uniforms canvassing the area, looking for anything strange. No way around it—if we can't pinpoint the target house we're not going to get very far."
A small voice interrupted from the hallway. “I might have the answer to that,” said Jaz, stepping into the room with Quickfingers beside her. The imp's little four fingered hand was folded within her own. “Quickfingers says he can teleport to wherever they are if he has something personal to work with."
"Personal like what? Clothing, hair, a photograph?"
The imp shrugged. “Not sure what'll do it. Seeing might work. Let's try the picture."
"His stuff's at the Academy. Go back and find a picture and return,” she told the girl. “You,” she said to the imp, “stay here."
Breed lifted an eyebrow questioningly as Jaz nodded and leaped out via a hastily cast transit tube. Once the girl had gone, Athena glanced over at her. “I didn't want her getting it into her head to try and jump in and play the hero. I get the feeling she's the type to do something stupid like that.” She turned a baleful eye on the imp. “And if you tell her I said that, I'll personally make it my life's goal to make your existence pure misery."
Quickfingers returned her gaze unblinkingly. “How do you know it isn't already?"
* * * *
Nightfall. A soft rain fell from a leaden sky as Raven led Mandy out of their hiding place and into the gathering dark. Since he'd always returned to Hades’ mansion by dawn, he really didn't know of any really secure sleeping spots. I'm really going to have to do something about that now, aren't I?
They drifted down the city street for a few blocks, leaving the abandoned house behind them. “I really need to find Ben and Amanda now. Do you have a problem with that?"
She shook her head. “I'd like to meet this other me, to be honest."
He chuckled. “I imagine you would. I guess I should probably check at the Academy first. That's probably the safest place he could have taken her.” He started to say something else but froze in place, frowning.
"What?"
"Wait here.” He drifted toward a run-down house with an overgrown yard and focused his senses toward the nearly invisible basement window. After a long moment he reached for a mana strand and cast it through the earth and into the basement. He stepped through the ‘tube and wrapped himself in shadow.
In the middle of the basement two men crouched over a concrete lined pit. One glanced over at the other. “That one isn't going to fight, Buzz."
His companion shook his head. “Then it'll die. Good practice for my dog."
Raven's eyes narrowed into a deadly, laser-like glare. He heard snarls coming from inside the pit and took a step out of the shadows. “And what do you think you're doing?” he asked in a soft voice.
Both men spun, hands arching for the weapons in their waistbands, but before they'd even gotten halfway around each man found himself staring into the deep black eye of one of his twin Glocks. “Really bad idea, boys. If you play cooperative, you may even live to tell the tale.
"Back away from the pit."
The sound of low growling reached his ears and he let out a mental shout. ::No!:: There came an impression of surprise, then a cowering down. That'll work. He let his violet gaze scrape over the two men. One was a pock-faced fellow with a large nose reaching from his pale face. He looked like a Zip fiend, all skin and bones. The other, a much larger Black man, glared at him with pure hatred and rage. He was going to be a problem. Best nip that in the bud. He simple stepped across the distance between them and snatched his weapon from his waistband, then returned to his original position. All in less time than it would take to blink the human eye.
> Now his pistol sat in Raven's waistband, his black duster parted so they could see its silver gleam. His own weapons resumed their baleful glare at their respective targets. He smiled. “You don't want to piss me off, boys."
"How'd you do that, kid? You some sorta freak?” the Black guy asked.
His smile grew wider. The very tips of his fangs peeked out from behind his upper lip. “You could say that, yes.” His burning gaze narrowed on the ziphead. “You fight these dogs?"
The black man spoke up defiantly. “Yeah. What of it?"
He shook his head slowly. “Man, that is pure evil.” He waved the Glock at the ziphead. “Get the one who won't fight out first."
"Man, I'm not sticking my hand—"
"Do it!"
Knowing death stared him in the face, the man leaned over the pit and pulled out a pit bull puppy about six months old. It looked under-fed and scared. Raven sent out a mental stroke and raised his eyes back to the man's face.
He smiled nervously, revealing a gap where his two front teeth should have been. “Put it down."
The puppy ran to him, cowing under his legs and peeing as it squirmed across the cold cement. “This ends here. You will fight no more dogs.” He jabbed the other gun at the black man. “Get the other pup.” He leaned over and holstered the other Glock then bent down to pick up the pup at his feet.
The other dog was larger, meatier, and might have been as old as eleven months. “Set it down."
A cold, frigid anger had settled into him and he meant to make sure these two understood how vile a practice this actually was.
He set the dog on the cold pavement and it looked around in wonder, then crept up to Raven. “Now, you two ... get in the pit."
"What?"
"You heard me. Get in the fucking pit."
With obvious reluctance, they obeyed. “Good,” he said, appearing at the edge and staring down at them. “Now fight."
"What?” said the white guy. “Fuck you."
"Oh, yeah. Toss me your gun. I can't believe I almost forgot. Slowly. Two fingers. Yep, that's the way. Don't try anything funny. I won't be laughing and neither will you."
* * * *
The room was maybe seventy square feet, filled with long metal counters, various medical implements scattered amongst the counters, and two long tables in the center of the room, each with a human form beneath a thin white sheet.
A circular column rose between the two tables, the source or terminus of two twin masses of cable snaking between it and the two bodies on the tables. Bare faces stared up from beneath a black skullcaps. One was Thomas Grey. The other, Amanda.
Two of the black-winged demons stood on the other side of the room, massively muscles arms folded across chests as wide as rowboats. Eyes as black as their skin stared out from beneath feathery blue-black brows. Tiny, barely visible ivory horns poked out from their hairless black heads. One had a tattoo in white of a stooping hawk emblazoned across the surface of his bald skull.
Something moved to the left and a smaller man—but not much smaller—with equally dark skin, and eyes of burnt orange, stepped into view. “Ben Dalmas, I presume.” He stuck out a hand. “I'm Hades."
Ben cocked his head and met the dark immortal's eyes. He made no move to take his hand. “I'd sooner grab a hot coal,” he snorted. “Is she okay?"
"Perfectly well,” Hades replied, ignoring the insult with a tenseness in his jaw. “Good Mr. Grey would not like it if his new vessel were damaged."
"What do you need me for? She looks unconscious."
"She is. But she needs to be awake for the switch. I don't know why. We can't exactly threaten to kill her, now can we? So you're the next best thing."
"You're a fucking psycho."
Hades hand lashed out, his knuckles slashing across Ben's jaw and sending him rocking back on his heels. He shook the stars out of his eyes and fixed the immortal with a steady glare through narrowed eyes.
"I will not tolerate you cursing at me."
"What are you going to do about it? Kill me?"
"Nothing saying I can't beat you to within inches of your life,” Hades growled.
"You can try,” Ben snarled back.
The Abyssian with the tattoo took a step forward, arms bending to reach the crescent shaped blade strapped to his stomach. “No,” Hades hissed. “You're not worth my time.” Ignoring the werewolf, he crossed the room and did something with the machine between the two tables. It came to life with a low hum. “Wake them up,” he told the small, mousy medical type standing nearby.
The little man nodded and produced two syringes, one of which he emptied into Grey's arm before circling around and repeating the process with Amanda. It took a few moments, but they began to stir. Amanda came to quicker than her grandfather, which only made sense. She was considerably younger after all.
"What's happening?” she asked.
"Bad things,” Ben rumbled. One of the bat-winged warriors slapped him in the back of his head. He turned halfway around and blasted him with an icy gaze. “Do that again and I'll rip your fucking head off."
"Do it!” the monster snarled, massive arms and chest muscles bulging aggressively as he stepped forward.
"Back off!” Hades snapped. “Are you with us, Ms. Keening?"
"Yeah,” Amanda groaned, trying to sit up. “What is this?” She reached up and felt around the skullcap with her fingers. “Where am I?"
"You are back where you belong,” Hades told her dispassionately. “Mr. Grey? Are you with us?"
The old man spat something vulgar and shifted slightly so he could stare over at the immortal. “Yes. I'm here."
"Are you ready?"
"I am."
"Ready for what?” Amanda asked.
"You really don't want to know,” Ben said loudly. “Tell her."
"Shut up!” Hades practically yelled. His face began to take on a distinct reddish hue.
"No.” It wasn't as though Ben really wanted to die, but if he had to in order to prevent Amanda from cooperating, he would. She could fight back and he didn't want to be the reason she didn't.
"What's he doing here?” she asked. “And what's that thing around his neck?"
"It's a bomb. If you try anything we'll blow his head off."
"Why? I don't give a damn about him. He's just a stupid kid with a crush. I don't owe him anything.” Her voice fairly dripped with venom, and her glare was hot and contemptuous as it scraped across him.
Hades burst out laughing. “Nice try, but I don't think so. He doesn't strike me as a fool, and only a fool would go through what he has for a woman who actively dislikes him. You are merely trying to protect him by making it look like you wouldn't care either way.
"I'm not stupid, Ms. Keening, and I'd appreciate it if you didn't treat me as if I were.
"Here's the deal. Your grandfather, who has grown old and feeble, has willed everything he owns to you. But you're not going to be around to enjoy it. Instead, we are going to transfer his consciousness into your body, and your consciousness into his. Then we'll pack you off to a private care center and let you live out your last days in relative comfort while your grandfather continues to amass his fortune and pay his debt to those who offered him this chance to extend his life.
"If you get it into your head to fight us, or make this difficult in any way, Donner over there is going to use that thing in his hand to blow Mr. Dalmas's head clean off. Are we understood?"
"Yes,” she muttered, seeming to deflate there on the table.
"Good. Let's get started then, shall we?"
Twenty-one
"Take this with you,” Jaz whispered to Quickfingers, handing him a small hand mirror she'd liberated from one of the other students. “When you get there find someplace out of the way to hide it, face up, and I'll come through and give you a hand."
"Athena isn't going to like it,” the imp remarked, glancing over to see Athena and Breed still in deep conversation on the other side of the room.
"Hey, Boss, if you don't care, then I don't care."
"Good. Now what the hell are they doing?” Jaz walked over and leaned against the table. “Are we going to sit here all day?"
"We aren't going to do anything, Jaz,” Athena said firmly. “You are going to go back to your room and wait to hear from us. I'm waiting for a response from my PARD squad and then we're going to see if your little friend there can pop us wherever we need to be."
"I can only teleport one other person besides me,” Quickfingers pointed out.
"You didn't tell us that!” Athena snapped.
"I could swear I did. But maybe not. Is it a problem?” The imp grinned.
Athena glared and growled. “Fine. Hop over, take a look around the place, then jump outside for a quick second. Come back, pick me up and take me to a point outside the house. I can call in backup from there."
"Sure. No problem!” With a loud pop, the imp vanished. Ten seconds later he flashed back, grabbed Athena by the arm, and ported back out again.
* * * *
They had no warning. The small blue creature flashed into existence with a loud whoosh, landing astride the semi-conscious Grey. It looked down at the old man between its round little legs and threw its arms straight up in the air. “Aieee! The Crypt Keeper is real!"
And vanished. And reappeared perched atop the tattoo free Abyssian. A spiked tail snaked out of nowhere and wound itself around the monster's neck as the little blue fellow—nearly a tenth his size—leaned over and stared, upside-down, into his swirling, demonic eyes. “Like how that works? Magic, my man. Plain old—” it lifted an arm, rolling up an imaginary sleeve—” hocus POKE-us!" With that it leaned down and jabbed him in the eye with a long forefinger.
"Ow!"
And just that quickly it was like being stuck inside a cartoon. The creature flung itself off, bouncing once off Grey's table, then sprang to Amanda's. “Hey, sweets!” he chirped. Then, bang, he was gone.
"What the fuck was that?” Hades yelled, spinning in place and looking almost frantic.
"Some kind of mutated goblin, maybe?” Ben supplied helpfully, stifling a grin.
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