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The Night Beat, From the Necropolis Enforcement Files

Page 25

by Gini Koch


  We fell back, side-by-side, both in full snarling mode. There was plenty of other activity, including what I was pretty sure were some of our witches and warlocks casting counter-spells that seemed to be working, if some of the darkness falling away from the glass ceiling was any indication. So our side wasn’t down and out yet. Good.

  Hitler wasn’t around. Neither were any other minions, other than the Three A’s. This was unsettling. I had no idea where they’d gone or what they were doing, but before I could ask anyone for a fast debrief, Abaddon pointed his Hellfired crossbow at me.

  “If you will not join us as decreed,” Abaddon intoned in that reverberating way the major minions loved to do for any group of beings larger than two, “then you will perish.”

  I readied myself to jump. I had to time it right, because I didn’t want to leap into Apollyon’s sword, the Adversary’s arms, or into the path of the arrow, and Abaddon had top minion reflexes, meaning he could follow me if I leaped too soon. I also didn’t want Ralph or anyone else to get the arrow instead of me.

  Of course, what I wanted wasn’t always on the menu. As Abaddon twitched, indicating to my canine senses that he was about to fire, and as I readied myself to leap, I heard the last thing I wanted to.

  “Vic, look out!” Jack flung himself in front of me, as Abaddon pulled the trigger and Ralph leaped for Abaddon’s throat.

  Ralph hit and the crossbow went flying. I shifted to human and caught Jack as he went down. The arrow was in his chest.

  “Jack, no. You weren’t supposed to get in the way.” I tried not to cry, but didn’t manage it too well.

  He gave me a half-smile. “Sorry. Had to protect…my girl,” he gasped out. “Guess forever wasn’t very long, huh?”

  He was dying, I didn’t need werewolf senses to tell me that. But for some reason, all my senses were hyper-aware. I could tell the minions had left for whatever reason. The building wasn’t a cage any more -- light was coming in and I could hear beings going in and out, carrying wounded, doing cleansing spell, shouting orders here and there. Ralph, Sexy Cindy and the others were gathering around us, but no one was speaking.

  “I can make it longer,” I whispered. Then I shifted to werewolf form and bit his throat.

  Chapter 55

  As I watched Jack’s face go from pain to shock to the pasty-white I knew meant he was dying and being reborn undead, I heard Ken’s voice, shouting something.

  “It’s okay,” I murmured to Jack as I pulled the arrow out of his chest. “Just tell me when you’re hungry.”

  Someone’s hand landed on my shoulder. “Vic, what did you do?” Ken sounded freaked out beyond belief.

  “He was dying. I bit him.” That sounded lame, but it was the truth.

  “You shouldn’t have done that,” Ken said. “No one was here to check, to make sure --”

  “To make sure the man who sacrificed himself to save me isn’t evil?” I snarled. As I looked up at Ken’s face I remembered that we had a mole, and there was no guarantee Ken wasn’t said turncoat. Maybe he didn’t want me turning Jack into a werewolf because that wasn’t in the bad guy’s plans.

  Ken shook his head. “No, Vic. You know better than that.”

  “Do I?” I clutched Jack to me. “How do I know you’re really on the side of good?”

  Ken stared at me. “What are you talking about?”

  “We have a mole. Someone knew what we were doing and alerted our enemies, kept them several steps ahead of us. How do I know that wasn’t you?”

  “Don’t talk to Ken like that,” Ralph said quietly.

  I spun on him. “Could be you, too, Ralph.”

  His lips pulled up over his teeth and he bared his fangs. I’d seen Ralph growl this way before, but it had never been directed towards me. Now, twice in one day, meaning Ralph was seriously angry. “You get one for being upset. But that’s it. Before you accuse anyone else who’s spent decades working with you, caring about you, and being friends with you of being a spy, you’d better consider all the options, including what it’ll be like if we all kick you out of the pack.”

  Before I was able to come back with any kind of retort, suitable, stupid, soothing or not, Jack jerked in my arms. “I need food,” he gasped. “What’s happening to me?”

  Merc tossed a ham over and Jack grabbed it -- with paws. His transformation was fully complete. I almost asked Merc if the Tour Bus was stocked with unlimited hams, but then decided I had more pressing concerns.

  I looked Jack over as he ate. He showed no signs of injury, but then that was common when a being was turned undead. Frankly, it was part of the point -- the eternal cure for what was about to ail you on a permanent basis.

  Jack was a pretty good-looking wolf. I noted that he was about Ralph’s size, so bigger than me, but that was to be expected. Ralph had a better coat, but that might have more to do with transition than anything else. In wolf form, just as in human, Jack radiated masculinity. I was still definitely willing to be his puppy-mamma, heroic save or not, though the save was a definite turn-on.

  “Let’s regroup,” Freddy suggested. “Everyone’s tired, hurt, on edge and frightened. Let’s go back to Headquarters and try to figure out what’s going on. Without any more recriminations or accusations.”

  That sounded like a sane idea, and I had just enough self-control left to recognize it as such. “Good plan.” I nudged Jack, who was toying with the hambone. “You able to move on?”

  “Yeah, I think so.” He got to his paws and fell on his face. “I think.”

  “You’re trying to walk like a human, not like a wolf. Four feet. Just think canine thoughts.”

  “How do I do that?”

  “Most of us manage it without a lesson,” Ralph muttered.

  This was true, but I wasn’t in the mood to hear it. “You could help, instead of offering criticisms.”

  “I wouldn’t want to presume,” Ralph snapped. “Since I might be trying to lead him straight to Hell.”

  Sexy Cindy cleared her throat. “Ah, I thought we were going to go with not yelling at each other.”

  Ralph ruffled his fur, nodded, turned around, and trotted off. Ken was still with us, though he didn’t look any more appeased. However, his dominant emotion was written on his face -- worry.

  I decided I’d better get myself and the situation under a semblance of control. “Ken, I’m sorry. Let’s do what Freddy suggested and get back to Headquarters. You can run any tests there, okay?”

  He nodded, but the worry didn’t go away. “They aren’t definitive, once the change has happened,” he said, but under his breath. I chose to pretend I didn’t hear it.

  “I think it might be a good idea to take as many as possible back in the Tour Bus,” L.K. suggested. “We have the wounded loaded in already, but there’s plenty of room for more.”

  “Is all our equipment out of the S-Class?”

  “Yes,” Merc said. “And loaded into the bus.”

  “Any sign of Nero or the other minions?”

  “None,” one of the nearby angels confirmed. “Whatever they wanted, they either got it or we messed them up enough that they’re going to have to try again another time.”

  We headed out of the Little Church. It looked much the worse for wear. I heard the angels discussing what they were going to do with the humans who, as I’d guessed, were all in their homes, acting like they couldn’t see or hear anything that was going on outside. Maybe they couldn’t.

  Our team climbed into the Bus, L.K. shielding Ken from the sun with what looked like a huge rain poncho. Ralph was already in there, curled up between the driver’s seat and the passenger’s. I decided now wasn’t the time to try to sniff and make up. I wasn’t sure that I wanted to, anyway.

  The Tour Bus was alter-dimensional, meaning it could hold a lot more than it looked like it should. Common enough, but I never got over it. Today, however, I didn’t really want to look. Jack collapsed in a heap and I cuddled next to him. He fell asleep before th
e rest of those hitching a ride were loaded in. I wanted to sleep, but couldn’t. I had too many things flying around in my mind, not the least of which was that I’d turned the guy I was in love with into a werewolf.

  This was a good news/bad news scenario. Most of it was on the good news side -- extended longevity, ability to actually mate with the intent to create progeny, able to share everything, truly mated for unlife. The bad side has its possibilities, though. Some couldn’t successfully make the transition and survive it mentally. Maybe he’d get antsy or curious, now that he was an undead. Maybe he’d want to continue with interspecies dating, meaning that I’d be boring and tossed aside.

  I shoved my mind away from these worries and any others that wanted a word. The base of my tail was bugging me, but I ignored it, too. It had been too long since I’d slept and the motion of the Bus and the chummy nearness of all the other beings lulled me to sleep.

  As I slipped into slumber, the base of my tail got one question in. Why did the minions leave when victory was likely to be theirs?

  I jerked awake, head fuzzy and mouth dry. We were at Headquarters, and the Bus was unloading. From what I gathered, we’d already made the hospital stop. I started to get to my feet when Freddy pushed me back down, gently.

  “They’re taking you and some others to your homes. So you can sleep in your own beds. We’ll attack it all when we’re fresh, tonight.”

  I put my head back down on my paws. “Sounds like a plan.”

  Chapter 56

  Of course, from my perspective, the plan shouldn’t have included anyone other than me and Jack being at my place. Freddy, Sexy Cindy, Merc and L.K. tagging along wasn’t how I felt the plan should go down.

  I’d been too tired to protest too much, though. Jack and I were in my bedroom on the Prosaic City side of the building. I’d been too exhausted to slide over, and I didn’t feel up to making sure Jack could handle it right now. The others were on the Necropolis side, so we could see and hear them if we wanted to, and ignore them if we so chose. I so chose.

  Jack had managed the transition back to human form without too much trouble, so after some fine “we survived” lovemaking, we were sleeping wrapped around each other.

  Along about sunset I woke up. I could have slept longer, but a couple of centuries of training mean an internal alarm clock doesn’t shut off just because you’ve had a rough time the night and half the day before.

  My moving roused Jack. He gave me a sleepy smile. “Hey, you.”

  “Hey yourself. How’re you feeling?”

  “Different.” He kissed my nose. “But good. Better. Stronger.”

  “You are. You’re one of the stronger undeads now.” I took a deep breath. “I’m sorry I didn’t ask you what you wanted…before I made the decision for you.”

  Jack shook his head. “This is what I would have picked. What I wanted to be, as soon as I knew you loved me back.”

  My throat felt tight. “I hope we make it through everything to make it all worthwhile.”

  “It’s already worthwhile, to me.” He sighed, stretched and sat up. “So, brief me. What’re my strengths and weaknesses now?”

  This was a little sudden, at least in my experience. Most newly formed undeads were confused, like Freddy and Sexy Cindy had been. Then again, Jack had been clear on everything prior to the change, so maybe that was it. “I think we need to figure out the Prince’s next steps.”

  “Sure, but I’d like to know how to defend myself when the time comes, which I’m sure will be sooner, not later. Like, what can kill me now?”

  “Not much.”

  “What’s my best form of attack?”

  “Uh, depends on what you’re fighting.”

  “Do we really run in a pack? I mean, I haven’t seen any werewolves other than you and Ralph. Are there more?”

  “Yeah, plenty.”

  “Where are they? Why aren’t they fighting with us?”

  Jack’s curiosity was unsettling me for some reason. The base of my tail, in particular, was upset. “We’re sort of…instinctive. Show up when needed, sort of thing.” I hadn’t asked this many questions of Black Wolf, but maybe that was just me. Though the base of my tail said it wasn’t just me, since I’d seen plenty of werewolves form over the course of time. You woke up with a lot of this knowledge in you -- at least, you were supposed to.

  I figured I’d screwed up Jack’s transition somehow, which wasn’t too much of a surprise. I’d never made another werewolf before. There had never been a need or an older, more experienced werewolf or undead was with me and made the determination. Since he’d joined up and made it through basic training, Ken had made all the transition decisions for our unit. I could understand why he was upset with me -- precedent alone said I’d overstepped my bounds, let alone the situation.

  “We need to figure out who the mole is.” I realized the base of my tail was what had shoved that statement out, not my conscious mind.

  Jack shrugged. “Could be anyone. Probably one of the ones you’re closest to. If I were going to bet, I’d put my money on Ken, Ralph or Monty. Though really, it could be any of them.”

  This didn’t make me feel warm and snuggly. “Maybe we don’t have a mole.” This was wishful thinking. I knew we did, and my tail agreed.

  “Oh, I’m sure we do.” He stroked my face. “But you can count on me. I’ve got your back.”

  “And I’ve got yours.” I couldn’t let it go, though. “But, wouldn’t we have spotted something, if we had a mole?”

  “Don’t know. I mean, our side has moles in the Prince’s ranks, right?”

  “I guess. I don’t work that side of undercover. Just the human side.”

  Jack gave me a searching look, like I’d seen him give a perp we knew was lying. “Come on, Vic. I’m on your side. We need to determine who the mole is, you’re right. So, does our side have double agents?”

  “Yes. But I don’t know who any of them are.” This was true enough that I could get it past Jack. I hoped.

  “So, they have double agents, too. And it should be someone we’d never suspect, right? Or else, they’re a pretty crappy double agent.”

  “I guess.”

  I didn’t want to stay on topic now, but Jack pressed on. “So, maybe it’s a like for like thing. Say it’s Monty who’s the mole. Who would be his counterpart on the Prince’s side? Or Ralph’s or Ken’s?”

  I considered this. “I have no idea.” I didn’t. I wasn’t clear on the Prince’s real hierarchy. You had your major minions and your lesser minions. But if they were set up like Necropolis Enforcement or not, I didn’t know for certain. Nor did it seem remotely relevant.

  “Is the Count the right counterpart to the Prince?”

  “Not…not really.” I rubbed my forehead. “We don’t line up like they do, I don’t think. Our leaders are the Gods and Monsters.”

  “You mean the beings who never show up when you need them?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Jack snorted in disgust. “Where were the Gods and Monsters today when we needed them? Nowhere around.”

  “They work through us, mostly.”

  “Right. Bang up job today.”

  “We’re all still here, and you said you didn’t mind being undead.”

  “I don’t. I just think that maybe our side’s not listening to the right leaders. Or rather, our leaders aren’t taking much of an active interest.”

  “They do. They’re always there when we really need them.” I considered mentioning that Yahweh and Usen had saved me when I’d really needed it but refrained.

  “Won’t matter.” Jack got out of bed, stretched again, shifted between human, wolf, and werewolf forms for a bit, then trotted to the bathroom. “Whatever comes, we’ll handle it,” he called as I heard the shower start.

  This was odd behavior on top of odd behavior, for Jack and for a newly turned werewolf. Canines weren’t enamored with bathing. We did it because it was expected of us, bu
t a werewolf pack out in the field could and would enthusiastically roll in dung before they’d willingly take a bath. We were animals and animals liked to smell like they should, not like perfumes and soap.

  In the time I’d known him, I couldn’t recall Ralph ever trotting off to shower after a big battle. I never did it, either. We bathed daily, but because we had to fit in, not because we wanted to. But I could hear Jack, happily humming away, while the smell of soap wafted through this side of my apartment.

  The realization that something was wrong and I had no idea of what to do reared up and waved its paw at me. If Black Wolf had still been unalive, I’d have called him for guidance. I’d have done the same with any of his pack. But they were all dead, killed off one by one. It was one of the reasons werewolves didn’t run in packs any more. The Prince’s side had used that against us, lying in wait for the moment a werewolf strayed even a little bit from their pack, pouncing on him, dusting him when he was all alone.

  Ralph felt we should have banded more strongly together. The other undeads didn’t. We scattered into different teams, made up of a variety of undeads. It had kept the remaining werewolves alive. But Ralph said we weren’t as strong. And part of me knew he was right.

  He was angry with me, and he had every right to be. He could be the mole, and the Gods and Monsters knew enough signs said it was possible. But he was the only one who would understand, immediately, why I was freaked out. I hit his numbers on my wrist-com.

  “Yes?” Ralph sounded just this side of sleepy and still on that side of angry.

  “I’m sorry. Something’s wrong.”

  “Everything, but what do you mean specifically?”

  “Jack’s taking a shower.” There was dead silence on the other side of my wrist-com. “Ralph? You still there?”

  “Are you alone with him?” Ralph’s voice was strained.

  “Sort of. Cindy, Freddy, Merc and L.K. are on the other side of my apartment. The Necropolis side.”

  “Get over to them. Now.” Ralph wasn’t my superior in Enforcement hierarchy and he wasn’t my mate or my pack leader. But the tone of his voice told me that now wasn’t the time to pull any kind of rank.

 

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