To The Dogs (Dave Carver Book 2)

by Andrew Dudek

  “We’re fine,” the old woman said. “Are you going to get us out of here. Are you with the fire department?”

  “Something like that. Any injuries, Lieutenant?”

  Earl looked at Pete’s leg. The dark fabric of his pants was burned away and the skin was a mess of purple and deep red. I winced. Second degree, at least. No way he was walking under his own power.

  Krissy handed me a bottle of water. I took a sip, then dumped the rest over Pete’s head. The kid yelped then sat up.

  “Listen to me, Pete,” I said. “We need to get out of here, right?” I signaled for Krissy and Amy to grab his shoulders. Together, the three of us lifted the kid to his feet. He whimpered as he tried to put weight on the burned leg. “Not like that,” I said. “You ever need crutches?” He got the gist after that, and the young women guided him through the smoke towards the back door. Earl put a strong hand against the backs of each member of the older couple and followed, guiding them gently through the store. I didn’t like the way the old man was walking, wavering on his feet, and the old woman sounded like she was trying to cough up all of her insides.

  I brought up the rear, army-crawling across the floor.

  The smoke was so thick and heavy that it was opaque, a solid mass hovering in the air overhead. I could hear cracking noises overhead and I knew the ceiling was threatening to give way.

  The old folks had to rest at the back of the store, and Pete’s eyes were flirting with rolling back in his head. I was feeling more than a bit light-headed and dizzy myself, especially when I forced myself to my feet.

  I kicked the door open and stumbled out into the alley. Krissy and Amy set Pete down on the paved ground, all four of us coughing. After the dry furnace, the humid, moist air was overpowering. Earl followed us out.

  I stumbled forward and helped him guide the older couple to seated positions next to a Dumpster. There were flashing lights on the street, the emergency services here to help.

  Earl and I helped Pete get to the EMTs, then went back for the old folks, who were both drifting in and out of consciousness. Gently as I could, I lifted the old man and draped his arm over my shoulder. Earl just picked the old lady up and put her in a fireman’s carry.

  “Uh, Dave?” Krissy’s voice, fearful and alert.

  Cerberus was standing in the doorway. Its tail flicked and its ears twitched. There were weird green scars across the flanks and haunches. The flame colored eyes were locked on Amy and it took a step forward.

  Earl moved, faster than he looked. He put the old lady down and pulled a knife. Marine-Corps-issue K-BAR. Seven inches of solid, tempered steel. He stabbed the hellhound in the shoulder. Cerberus twisted, one head snapping at Earl’s arm, and pounced on his chest. They went down, a rolling, snarling ball of claws and teeth and steel.

  Amy helped the old lady up. I passed her husband off onto Krissy.

  “Get out of here, sir!” Earl’s voice was strained as he grappled with Cerberus.

  I went. There was no point in heroics, not at the moment. The most important thing was getting Amy someplace where Cerberus couldn’t harm her. The three of us guided the old couple out of the alley. The sounds of the fight—Cerberus’ snarls and Earl’s grunts followed us the whole way. Dallas was standing near an ambulance.

  “It got away,” he said. “One second I had it, the next—”

  “Get Amy out of here!” I snapped and spun around, sprinting back down the alley.

  The hilt of the sword tore into my skin, I was holding it so tight. Blood dripped to the pavement. My boot heels pounded on the sidewalk, sending spasms of pain running up my legs. The air was thick with dark smoke and my lungs burned a vigil in protest. I needed to get to Earl. The lieutenant was willing to sacrifice himself for me, for Amy, for the team, for some civilians he didn’t know. He didn’t understand just how important to the cause Amy was, but he still threw himself into a battle with a hellhound to give me time to help her escapee. After I’d spent months ostracizing him and treating him like a traitor waiting to happen, he still fed himself to a hellhound to save me.

  I’d been wrong. About him. About all of them. Earl, Rob, Krissy. They were good people. They weren’t Bill. And if I wanted to be the leader—the man—that they deserved, I needed to recognize that. And I could start by saving my lieutenant.

  Sirens and panicked screams from rubberneckers had drowned out most other sounds, but as I approached, I could hear Earl and Cerberus, still fighting. The hellhound was triumphant sounding, its snarls louder and more powerful.

  I burst through a cloud of smoke, sword glowing blue. Earl and Cerberus were wrestling like a man and a bear. The hellhound’s heads were moving with snakelike speed, taking bites out of the man’s arms and shoulders.

  “Here, doggie!” I shouted.

  It’s not often a knight really concentrates on the power in his sword, but I could feel it now, swirling and pulsing like tides and eddies. The hair on the backs of my hands stood up, creating a weird, ticklish sensation. I squeezed the hilt until I thought the bones in my hand would snap.

  One of Cerberus’ heads looked away from his fight with Earl.

  “Catch,” I said.

  And I blew my load in its face.

  Yeah, I know how that sounds.

  Every sword of the Round Table contains power comparable to a roomful of dynamite. It’s almost never all used at once, but sometimes, in cases of extreme danger, it can be. Officially, it’s called the Suicide Shot, because when you access that power, the sword’s useless for several days. Metaphysically speaking, the sword’s flaccid. You can probably imagine some of the nicknames.

  A column of blue light, thick as my leg, burst from the tip of the sword. For a moment, the alley was lit with brilliant blue illumination. The heat was unbelievable. Bits of trash nearby combusted. A blue-black scorch mark, like a bruise, scraped the side of one of the buildings. The energy beam slammed into Cerberus’ right head and sent the hellhound spinning away. The dog hit the pavement hard enough to crack it, sending shards of broken stone flying.

  It lay still. For a moment, but it climbed almost immediately to its feet.

  “Oh, come on!” The jewel in the sword was white now. None of the power was palpable. The sword was just steel.

  Cerberus snarled. It took a couple of steps forward, then dropped to its knees. It struggled to rise, then one of its heads barked.

  “Shut up,” I said. “I’m done with you. Go tell the bitch that’s holding your leash that I’m done playing around. She wants to kill Amy, she’s gonna have to do it herself. And she’s gonna have to kill me first.”

  Two of the heads showed their teeth. And then it was gone, quick as a photo-flash.

  I sighed and dropped to my ass. My back was against the wall, which was still hot from the power of the Suicide Shot. “I kinda can’t believe that worked,” I said.

  Earl crawled over and sat beside me. He was covered with scrapes and bite marks, but they looked more or less superficial. “You okay, sir?”

  “Nothing a BLT and a roll in the hay with an elf-maiden wouldn’t fix. You?”

  “I’m fine, sir.”

  “Good. Let’s get out of here before a cop decides to ask some awkward questions about what we had to do with this fire. We need to have a team meeting.”

  Chapter 22

  Earl, Rob, Madison, Krissy, and I sat at the table. Amy was perched on a chair in the corner—a spectator, not part of the action. Everyone watched me, their faces tired and wary.

  “I’ve been an ass,” I said. “A colossal ass. Distant, cold, and I’ve treated all of you like you’re a half-step above the monsters we fight. That was wrong, and I’m sorry. I haven’t been the leader you guys deserve, so starting now, if you’ll let me, I’m hitting reset. You’re my guys and I’m your captain. As much as I’d like to, there’s no way I can fight this battle on my own. I need you guys. It’s time I start acting like it.”

  Krissy met my eyes with a small smile. M
adison looked down at the table, as if a fascinating article had just appeared. Earl and Rob gazed at the wall with identical chilly expressions. It was to them that I addressed the next part of my speech: “This seems like words right now. I get that. But I’m gonna prove it, if you’ll give me the chance. Right now we’re up against something that none of us can handle on our own. The Knights of the Round Table have proven, time and time again over the centuries that we can take anything the supernatural world throws at us, as long as we work together.”

  “So what do we do?” Rob asked. His voice was hoarse, but he looked calm enough.

  “For now we hunker down,”I said. “I met a guy today who might be able to help take a piece out of Cerberus. Until I talk to him, I don’t want anyone wandering around at night. My sword’s just a bit of sharp metal now—it’ll take three days to recharge. Yours and Earl’s are operational, so I’m splitting the group into three. Everyone is gonna stay near a sword.

  “Rob, you stay with Madison at her apartment.” The older knight smiled at the young woman. “Earl and Krissy, you two are gonna go to the Rabbit’s Hat. Dallas still has research that needs to be done. You’ll help him with that. Between Earl’s sword and Dallas’s magic, it’ll be safe enough there.”

  “What about you?” Krissy asked.

  “Amy’s gonna stay here for the night. I’ll lock her in the pyramid trap, then get myself behind Mrs. Chang’s wards at my apartment.” Krissy frowned, but didn’t raise further objections. “Everyone good? Speak now.” No one complained, and I said, “Cool. Everybody watch your partner’s back and we’ll all be fine. Good luck and we’ll meet back here in the morning.”

  Earl and Rob left the conference room to gather up their assorted weapons. Madison went with them. Krissy hesitated a moment before she exited into the bullpen. She was staring at me, her mouth open like she was about to say something, but then Amy stood up and Krissy left without a word.

  “Some speech,” Amy said. “Practice in front of a mirror?”

  “I’m shocked you’d suggest something like that. I only speak from the heart.”

  “Oh, I’m sure.” She hooked her arm around mine. “Listen, I don’t know if I like the idea of being locked behind that gate all night by myself. I know you say it’s safe, but…”

  I nodded. Couldn’t really fault her for being nervous. The pyramid trap was probably the most secure structure in the tristate area, magically speaking, but it wasn’t foolproof. Bill Foster had blasted his way out of it. I didn’t know how Cerberus’ power compared to the Gauntlet of Greckhite, but I had to assume it was at least comparable. Stood to reason that it’d be able to get in.

  “Would you rather stay at my apartment?” I asked.

  “I thought you’d never ask,” she said. “What do you say, Captain, care to walk me home?”

  The controls for the ward were in the basement. A dusty pool table took up much of the center of the floor, but Mrs. Chang slid deftly around it and headed for the back of the cellar. I stayed close on her heels. There were huge cardboard boxes littering the floor, and strands of Christmas lights writhed around like snakes. I didn’t want to trip and sprain something on Mrs. Chang’s holiday decorations. I’m a knight of the Round Table—I need to keep some level of dignity.

  My landlady was a tiny woman, maybe ninety-five pounds and about four-eight. She wore a floral bathrobe that draped the floor like the vestments of royalty and her enormous spectacles made her eyes owlish.

  “The wards are strong, Captain Dave,” Mrs. Chang said. “But they can not go forever. I used up much of their power last night. After tonight they will be useless until they recharge.”

  So if we didn’t take out Cerberus tomorrow, we’d need to find a new place to hide. “I understand,” I said.

  Something that looked like a fire pit had been dug into the basement’s stone floor. A pair of charred black sticks leaned against each other, forming a teepee. Bars of bronze were embedded in the floor like railroad tracks. They reminded me of a skeleton, and they even went up the walls and disappeared into the ceiling. I wondered if the bronze bones went all the way through the house. They must have, I decided: must have been where the power for the wards came from.

  Mrs. Chang produced a cigarette lighter from her robe and flicked it to life. “Stand back.” She pushed the lighter against the sticks in the pit. There was a rumble underfoot, like an earthquake, and the bronze bars blazed to golden life. Chinese characters glowed bright white in the bones of the warding spell.

  Mrs. Chang nodded, shut off the lighter. “No one can come in or out until morning.”

  “Thanks, Mrs. Chang.”

  “I rent the upstairs apartment to the Round Table, Captain Dave. I understand this can be dangerous. I just hope you will do your best to make sure my home is not threatened.”

  I gave her a small smile. “I’ll do my best, but I can’t promise that. I will say that if anything ever comes here to harm you, it’ll only be after I’m dead.”

  Mrs. Chang nodded, seemingly satisfied. “In that case, you’re welcome, Captain Dave.”

  I didn’t ask how my elderly Asian landlady knew how to set up wards like this. I decided I didn’t want to know.

  While I had been down in the basement setting up the wards with Mrs. Chang, Amy had been upstairs in my apartment taking a shower. When I climbed the steps and entered the apartment, I could hear the water running, so I sat down on the couch and put my feet on the coffee table. It would have been polite, I guess, to cook some food, but I was tired and I just wanted to zone out for a minute or two. I flipped through the channels until I found a local news report about the fire at the Seven-Eleven in midtown.

  One of the witnesses interviewed on camera mentioned that she’d seen a big dog in the vicinity of the fire, but there was no mention of three heads. The mental gymnastics people put themselves through to avoid believing in the supernatural never stopped amazing me. They’d seen a three-headed dog the size of a buffalo burning down a convenience store, and they wouldn’t acknowledge it.

  On the other hand—Pete the cashier and the elderly couple were all going to be okay. They were being treated for burns and smoke inhalation, but the doctors expected full recoveries. That was something, at least. It could be easy to forget, but that’s actually my first job: to protect people from marauding monsters. Basically, it’s my responsibility to make sure the average person never has to confront the reality of the supernatural.

  The news gave way to a rerun of an old sitcom. The pipes in the wall rattled and the water shut off. Amy emerged from the hall, famed by a could of warm, soapy steam.

  She was wearing a black T-shirt (with a Pearl Jam logo on it that she must have gotten out of my closet) and nothing else.

  “I hope you don’t mind,” she said, “but I guess all of my clothes are gone.”

  I shook my head. “It looks better on you, anyway.”

  She ran a hand over my forearm. A trail of goosebumps followed in her wake. “You’ve saved my life, what, three times in the last couple days?”

  “Just doing my job,” I murmured.

  “Mmm. I’m sure that’s true.” She leaned in close and kissed my neck. Her tongue traced the outline of the scars.

  My pants were suddenly a couple sizes too small. “Look, Amy—”

  “Madison mentioned that you haven’t dated anybody since the Battle of New York. Nobody in the office knows much about your life before that. Tell me, how long has it been for you?”

  It was true that I hadn’t gotten laid in, god, almost a year and a half. I hadn’t been in the mood to go trawling for dates in the last five months. For the six before that, I wasn’t sure where I’d stood with May and I hadn’t wanted to betray that. Before that, I’d been in a vampire prison camp.

  Amy put a hand on the inside of my thigh. “I don’t want you thinking this is some kind of thank you for saving me thing. You’re a good guy, Dave. One of the only good guys I’ve met in a while. And it�
�s not the venom, either. I just… I like you, Dave, and if this whole thing doesn’t go the way we hope, I’m probably gonna die soon.”

  I shook my head. “No, Amy, you’re not gonna die—”

  She grabbed my hair and pulled my head down to hers. She kissed me, fierce and hard. My body reacted, and I was kissing her back, letting out a low moan. Amy growled softly and mounted me. My hands slid under the T-shirt and I pulled it off of her body. I ran my hands up her sides, brushing her rib cage. I kissed her neck, then drew a line down to her breasts with my tongue. She gasped, then moaned, and awkwardly half-stood so she could get her panties off. I put my hands under her knees and lifted her up, undoing the button on my jeans and wriggling out of them.

  I laid Amy down on the floor of my living room. She looked up at me, biting her lower lip. She nodded. I stood there for a moment, pants around my ankles, my own T-shirt tossed on the coffee table. I drank her in with my eyes. She had full breasts that didn’t lose their shape, even when she was on her back like that. The muscles in her stomach were flat and taut.

  “What are you waiting for?” she asked.

  With a moan and a whisper, she pulled me into her.

  When we were done, I kissed her, rolled off of her and lay on the floor next to her. We stayed like that for a moment, one of my arms draped around her shoulders, in comfortable, sweaty silence. For the first time in what felt like months, I drifted off to an easy sleep.

  Chapter 23

  Light creeping through the cracks in the blinds filtered through my eyelids. I woke up on the floor. Amy’s naked back was pressed against me. She shifted her hips and looked over her shoulder. A lock of blond hair fell across her face.

  “Morning,” she said. “That wasn't so painful, was it?”

  I laughed and rubbed my hand down her side, tracing the scars on her legs from the vampire bites. Those scars reminded me a lot of mine. I hadn't noticed them the night before, but in the sunlight, I realized we had matching scar tissue. “Not painful at all.”