by Gini Koch
“Most of the Estates, but not all?” I asked, since Susan had no idea what we actually were doing or needed to worry about.
“Apparently there’s some big religious deal going on at the Little Church, big fundraiser,” Susan said. “They’ve been advertising it for months. They have the streets blocked off -- you can’t get in without a ticket and they’re cross-checking against a list or something. Why is this of interest to you or the police department?”
“Just want to know how to get in or out if you don’t have a ticket.” I was used to Darlene’s level of sarcastic help. Susan seemed a lot more difficult to work with. I didn’t envy the day shift.
“Utility road, where city workers go in and out. Anything else, Detective Wagner?”
I ignored the snub. “Yeah. A couple of nights ago Darlene said there was a riot. Can you tell me about that?”
“You could come into the station and read the officers’ reports.” Susan definitely wasn’t into the give and take I was used to.
“We could. Or, you know, you could give us the highlights and we could continue on, fighting crime, keeping Prosaic City safe for dispatchers with attitude.”
“Vic,” Jack hissed. “Sorry, Susan. We’re both tired. Been a long night after a couple of longer nights. Can we have those highlights?”
Susan sighed the put-upon sigh of a woman forced to actually do something when she was going to paint her nails. I decided I didn’t like her. “Fine. There was a riot at the stadium. Even with a lot of reports, we have no clear idea why or how it started.”
“There wasn’t a game this week,” I mentioned.
“Right you are,” Susan said snidely. “There was a revival.”
“Revival?”
She sighed again. She was big on sighing. I moved to intense dislike. “Reverend Johnson brought in religious leaders from all over to do an old-fashioned tent revival. Big rally kind of thing. As the kickoff to the fundraiser starting today. Do you ever read the paper or listen to the news?”
“No. I like to remain unaware and get all my news from dispatch. Until this morning, never been a problem.”
“Right. So anyway, some thugs, or kids, or criminals, no one was really sure, crashed it and thanks to Detective Wagner’s tip, our officers were able to get there in time to get things back under control.”
I knew the tip had come from Ken. Needed to ask him what he knew. If he wasn’t the mole, of course. Well, I had to ask him whether or not he was the mole. The question was going to boil down to -- could I trust his answers? I hated the way this day was going.
But not as much as I currently hated Susan. I’d picked up the massive emphasis on “Detective Wagner” and I was getting the distinct feeling that Susan had the hots for my guy. This was not an acceptable thing. I considered going to headquarters and eating her, but decided going for demure and sweet might be better, particularly since Jack looked both embarrassed and frustrated.
“Yes, Detective Wagner’s the best, isn’t he?”
“You have no idea.” Susan sounded just a little too smug. And Ralph wasn’t the only one with a werewolf nose. Jack was giving off guilt pheromones.
“I’ll bet. Anyway, Susan, thanks so much for all your help. We’ll be checking in later, I’m sure.” I hung up the radio. I almost opened my mouth to discuss this little situation with Jack, but the presence of three other beings helped me stay quiet. He was allowed to have dated other people before we got together -- I certainly had. He’d met them. Lucky me. But the point was, if he’d had a relationship with Susan the Dispatcher from Hell, that was his business. Going forward it was my business, but retrospectively, not so much. So I went for cool. Not a canine trait, as mentioned before, but sometimes we can do it. “We need to ask Ken what tipped him off to that riot and what he picked up from it.”
Jack looked relieved and nodded. “I agree. Hope we can trust his answers.”
“Me too. Now, like I said before, let’s move the equipment from this car into the nice car we’ve borrowed while in pursuit of dangerous criminals.”
“Great spin,” Jack muttered as Freddy and Sexy Cindy started to shift our stuff.
I considered what to do with our bag of pawned goodies from Cotton, and decided they didn’t need to come along. I shoved the bag behind the spare tire and handed another set of crossbows to Freddy. As I did I noticed Ralph looking at Jack, eyes narrowed. I was about to say something about this when he gave the canine snort of dismissal and trotted back to the S-Class.
“What’s wrong with our beloved wolfhound?” Jack asked, sarcasm dripping.
I had a few guesses, but I kept them to myself. “No idea.”
“So, your plan?”
“We’re going to infiltrate via the only road that’s apparently letting beings in and out.”
“How? We drove by. We saw nothing but Hellfire.”
“True. But we now have the means to go through Hellfire unscathed.”
Jack raised his eyebrow. “Really. I carried a lot of crossbows and swords and Evil Fairy Repellent, but I didn’t see any fire retardant suits.”
I picked up the last thing in the unmarked sedan’s trunk. “Nope, you didn’t. And you didn’t carry it to the car anyway. It was already here.” I held up my prize.
Jack stared at it. “It’s a fire extinguisher. Are you telling me that Hellfire is put out just like a campfire?”
“Nope. This didn’t come with the car. I put it in months ago. Read the label.”
Jack read aloud. “Spray widely in an up and down and back and forth manner.” He gave me a look that said I’d lost it. “You mind explaining how this is going to help?”
Sexy Cindy came over and looked at the label. She grinned and shook her head. “Savior Spray for all your firefighting needs.” She snorted. “You all have a sense of humor, I’ll say that.”
“I still don’t get it,” Jack said flatly.
Sexy Cindy shrugged. “Spray widely in an up,” she pointed to her head, “down,” pointed mid-chest, “back,” left shoulder, “and forth,” right shoulder, “manner. Or, for the marvelous detective, make the Sign of the Cross while spraying.” She rolled her eyes at me. “Is he always that slow?”
“Some consider him the best detective on the force.” Susan, for instance. Me, under most circumstances. The Chief occasionally.
Sexy Cindy apparently not. “Really?” She sniffed. “When an undead hooker’s ahead of you, maybe you should rethink your career choices.” She sashayed off to the S-Class while I tried not to snicker.
“I don’t like her,” Jack muttered.
I grinned. “I think she’s great.”
Chapter 47
Back in the S-Class and rolling. I found myself wondering if there was going to be any way we could keep the car for good. We’d achieved far more stealth in it than we’d ever had in the unmarked sedan. And it was comfort to die for. Well, not literally.
While Jack drove, I contacted Ken on my wrist-com. “How’re you doing?”
“I’m in my coffin. I was trying to sleep.”
“I know, and I’m sorry. I need info on the riot from the other night.”
“What? Oh…yeah, that. Sorry, so much has been going on.” Ken was quiet for a few moments. “You want to know what, exactly?”
“How’d you know, what did you get from it, the works.”
“You know,” he said slowly, “I can’t remember too much.”
I found this horribly suspicious in that mole way. “Try, if you can. I know you don’t feel well.” I hoped it was because he’d been bashed around by the Adversary, not that he was in league with the Adversary. Having someone who’d been that intimate with me and who I’d been that close to emotionally as well as physically turn out to be part of the Prince’s loyal squad made me nauseous. Almost as nauseous as thinking about a mole in the first place.
“I didn’t get what I would normally.” Ken sounded like he was trying to remember. I hoped it wasn’t an act. “I knew
there were a lot of humans in one area, I felt fear and anger, all the signs of a riot. Really, that’s about it. I was focused on getting the police over there and trying to stop the demon.”
“Yeah, Slimy was the sort to rivet your attention.”
“What are you doing? Where are you?” Ken sounded drowsy and out of it.
I chose to go with reassuring. “We’re good. Following up some leads. You get some rest and feel better. I’m sure we’ll need you back in action fast.”
“Yeah. Vic….”
“What?”
He took a deep breath. “Vic, be careful.”
“Always.”
“No, I mean it. Be really careful. I feel like I should tell you to trust no one. Whatever’s going on, I think it’s bigger than anything we’ve ever dealt with. Not just me, but you, too. Maybe everyone. Watch your back.”
“Will do.”
“Promise me.” Ken sounded stressed and a little freaked.
I decided to ensure relaxation. “I promise.” I looked behind me. “I’ll watch my back and trust no one.” Ralph glared, Freddy shook his head, and Sexy Cindy grinned.
“Good. See you later, V-One-Nine-Six-Zero out.” My wrist-com went dead.
“Ken’s really hurt,” Ralph said quietly.
“Why do you say so?”
He snorted. “That warning was for you alone, Vic. I don’t think it occurred to Ken that you had anyone else around, or that anyone else could hear him, even though he was talking to you through the wrist-coms. He doesn’t make stupid assumptions.”
“True.” Very true. Oh good. More things to worry about.
“Maybe he knew we were all here and is trying to create suspicion among the five of us,” Jack offered.
Sadly, I knew that Ken didn’t need to do that -- we were all undoubtedly suspicious enough of everyone else already. Of course, he wouldn’t know that if he was the mole. But if he wasn’t, that meant he was hurt badly enough not to be thinking clearly, and that meant very badly.
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Worrying about a mole was destined to drive me crazy. Maybe we weren’t infiltrated. Maybe we were. I’d worked for Necropolis Enforcement for a long time and it had never been an issue before. Maybe the best thing I could do was stop trying to find the mole and go back to business as usual.
All this introspection had taken time and we were back at the outskirts of the Estates. Jack drove slowly and we looked for the servant’s entrance.
“There it is,” Ralph said, pointing with his nose, possibly to get it right back by my face.
But he was right. We’d missed it before because it was designed to be missed and we’d been looking at the Hellfire.
“You sure that’s a road?” Sexy Cindy asked. “Looks more like a bike path.”
“No, I see a road sign,” Jack said. “Workmen’s Access Road. Yeah, this is it.” He stopped the car. “But I still see the Hellfire.”
“Yep.” I got out of the car. Ralph scrambled over the back of the front seat and came with me. I decided not to argue. “Good doggie, coming to protect Mommy-Dog while she puts out the nasty fire.”
“Hilarious,” he growled. “I just don’t want you alone out here.”
“Can’t argue with your judgment.” I lifted the trunk and got out the Savior Spray. We trotted over to the Hellfire and I looked for the right spot to spray.
Hellfire was interesting in a variety of ways. For one thing, and against all human expectations, it didn’t burn hot. Until you were engulfed in it, you couldn’t feel that it was there. Once engulfed, it burned like ice. Nothing dusted you faster than Hellfire, though.
Ralph and I stayed a respectful distance back from the burning. “How deep do you think it goes?”
He sniffed. “Looks about ten feet, smells like less.”
“Huh.” I couldn’t argue, that’s about what I’d come up with as well. I chose my spot and sprayed in the correct pattern. Nothing looked different.
“No change,” Ralph noted.
“No kidding.” Something wasn’t right. Savior Spray was designed to douse Hellfire. So, why wasn’t it working?
Ralph whined and nudged up against me. I looked around to see a jogger coming down the access road.
“Morning!” the man shouted cheerfully. “You folks having some trouble?”
“Ah…yes,” I answered lamely, trying to come up with why I was holding a fire extinguisher and standing with what truly looked far more like wolf than hound.
The jogger trotted blithely through the Hellfire and came over to us. “Engine fire?” he asked, seeming fully ready to pop the hood and take a look.
“No. I…I saw a little fire here. From someone’s cigarette. But we got it, didn’t we, boy?” I ruffled Ralph’s head in that dog owner way.
“Good thing you were looking,” the jogger said seriously. “Last thing we want is this beautiful place engulfed in flames. Whereabouts are you in the Estates?”
“We don’t live there…yet,” I added to his look of disappointment and mild suspicion. “We’re still sort of…house browsing.”
“Ah.” His eyes lit up. “I’m a realtor. I’d be happy to show you around if you’re not already represented.” He whipped a card out of the pocket of his jogging pants. It was only a little damp.
“Bill Bennett, Realtor for all seasons,” I read aloud as Ralph sniffed him openly and I sniffed surreptitiously. “Great. We’ll definitely give you a call.”
“I’ll look forward to it. Beautiful dog,” he added, as he did the manly pet the dog thing. I got the distinct feeling Bill was hitting on me. “What breed is he?”
“Russian Wolfhound. Very highly trained. I paid a fortune for him, but he’s worth it, aren’t you, baby?” I said in that nauseating way pet owners talk to their animal friends.
Ralph got into the act, doing the happy doggy dance that begged for more attention. He got it from Bill. I was getting tired of the act. Besides, the canine part of me sort of wanted to go all wiggy, too -- Bill was clearly either a dog lover or pathologically lonely, because he seemed ready to take Ralph home.
“Well,” I said as regretfully as I could manage, “we’d probably better get going.”
Bill nodded and gave Ralph one last enthusiastic pet-rub combo. “Bring your dog along when you’re ready to house hunt,” he said as he started jogging off around the perimeter of the Estates. “You should be sure he likes it, too.” Yep, definitely a dog lover. He waved to our cars’ occupants as he trotted off, which reminded me that they were still there. Acting human took a lot out of me when I hadn’t had food or sleep for a while.
We went to the car and got in. “Something’s odd about the Hellfire.”
“Your new boyfriend didn’t seem to notice it,” Jack said sourly.
“More to the point,” Ralph said before I could work up a suitable comeback, “he didn’t smell of it.”
“Of what?” Jack asked.
“Of Hellfire, of sulfur, of anything other than laundry detergent, sweat, and a little more cologne than necessary to go jogging,” I replied.
“He probably picks up girls all along his jogging route,” Jack muttered.
“What’s him not smelling of Hellfire mean?” Freddy asked.
Ralph beat me to this answer, too. “That it’s not Hellfire we’re seeing.”
Chapter 48
“What do you mean?” Sexy Cindy asked. “You said it was Hellfire, we can see it. You said humans can go through it safely, so maybe that’s why he didn’t smell.”
“He smelled. He just didn’t smell like he should have. Humans can’t feel Hellfire if they can’t see it, so Bill was safe jogging through it.”
“Bill?” Jack asked.
“Bill Bennett, Realtor for all seasons. I told him we were thinking of moving in. Anyway, even though most humans can’t sense Hellfire, going through it should leave traces, one of the easiest to spot being smell. And there was none.”
“There’s a smell of
Hellfire when you’re close to the flames,” Ralph added. “But there was none on Bill, and I got some good, intense sniffs in.”
“Meaning?” Jack asked.
I thought about it. “They knew we were coming.” I thought some more. “The Hellfire’s an illusion. Designed to send us away, keep us out, make us waste time, effort and materials to get rid of it. But it’s not really there.”
“And if you’re wrong and we go through it, then what?” Jack asked.
“We’re dusted.”
There was dead silence in the car. Ralph broke it. “I’ll go through.”
I resisted the urge to mention that he always grandstanded when I was nearby. One of us actually had to test it. But he wasn’t the one in charge. “No, it should be me.”
Ralph actually bared his fangs at me, which I was pretty sure was the first time, ever. “No. If anyone’s going to risk getting dusted, it’ll be me, and not you. Ever.”
“I agree,” Jack said. He got out of the car and held his door for Ralph.
“Ralph, what if we’re wrong?” I asked as he again scrambled over the front seat.
He looked at me. “Then the pack goes down by one.”
“You sound awfully cavalier.”
Ralph closed his eyes. When he opened them again he looked sad. “No. I just think we’re right. And even if we’re not and I get dusted, well….” He sighed. “I’m alone anyway. No one’ll miss me, not really.” He turned and quickly jumped out of the car.
I sat there with a variety of feelings running through me. Guilt was really high on the list. I knew Ralph liked me and I didn’t like him back. But it wasn’t just that. As I sat there and thought about it, the truth of the matter was that I couldn’t come up with anyone Ralph “hung out” with. I had Amanda and Maurice for the off hours, and now Jack, too. And those were just for starters. Clearly Freddy and Sexy Cindy were going to stay together -- maybe not romantically, but they were sort of clinging to each other in an understandable way. Everyone had someone, but as I rolled back through the years, Ralph didn’t. And for all his pack talk, it was an ideal. We had no pack. Werewolves hadn’t run in packs for decades for a variety of reasons.