The Junkyard Druid Box Set 2

by M. D. Massey

  The night raven responded with something like, “Mrfle, wrfle blrfle yrfle erfle.”

  I ripped the tape off his beak. “What was that?”

  “I said, ‘My, what a bastard you are.’” I reached out to wrap his beak again. “Stop! I promise I’ll not insult you anymore… today, at least. Besides, I need to vocalize in order to lead you to my secret roost.”

  The sound of sirens echoed in the distance, bringing me to my senses—cops would be here soon. I looked around the warehouse at the mess we’d made. There was a hole in the roof, the chair that had bound the raven had been reduced to a few smoldering pieces, other furniture had been smashed, and the floor where we’d fought had deep, ragged scratches several feet long, and a few scorch marks as well.

  I might be able to hide my weapons and other contraband I carried inside my Craneskin Bag, but I had no idea how I was going to explain the damage to the place—never mind the raven.

  “At least I didn’t burn it down,” I muttered.

  “There is that,” Nameless replied.

  “Bird, do you have any magic that can hide us while we get out of here?” I asked.

  The nachtkrapp cawed softly. “I suppose I can scrape together a few shreds of shadow to conceal our departure.”

  “Alright then, let’s boogie—just as soon as I grab a lemon bar from that case.” I dashed over to the counter with the bird tucked under my arm and grabbed two for good measure. I slid them into a paper sack I pulled off the counter, slapping a tenner down on the counter and securing it with a coffee cup.

  “You aren’t going to pay for the damages?” the raven asked. I arched an eyebrow at the mangy bird, and he squawked. “I may be a lot of things, but I’m no vandal.”

  “Great, a bogeyman with a sense of honor. Go figure. Just get us out of here without being seen—I’ll send someone to clean up, once the cops have left.”

  “Your wish is my command,” Nameless said.

  “If only,” I muttered. Shadows filtered up from between the floorboards, wrapping us in sufficient darkness to conceal our movements. Once the raven had draped us in shadow, I ducked out the back door, slipping away unseen by human eyes.

  3

  Nameless had tucked the kids away in a long-forgotten cellar, hiding them from prying eyes underneath one of the historic buildings at Fort Martin Scott. To access it, I had to drop into the old well on the property and swim down a hidden passage that led to the underground chamber. Not trusting my makeshift collar enough to leave the night raven unattended, I held on to the nachtkrapp as I made my descent.

  The bird was none too pleased that I’d dragged him along. After we’d emerged from the water into a small cavern, he fussed endlessly about his damp feathers until I taped his beak shut again. I had no idea how the creature had accessed the space without getting wet before, and suspected there was another way to access the room that didn’t involve water. My suspicions were proven true upon finding the children safe and sound, just where the raven had left them.

  Although the kids nearly had a fit when I showed up—sopping wet, with a mangy old raven tucked under my arm—I eventually convinced them I was there to help. An adjacent tunnel exited at the far reaches of the property, and once I’d gained their trust, the raven’s abductees were more than happy to point it out to me. After removing the barrier spell Nameless had used to keep the kids in, I ushered them outside.

  As we headed back to the parking lot, I assured the children that yes, the raven I carried was the same one that abducted them, and yes, I’d rendered him harmless. I even allowed them to take turns throwing stones at him. It was the least I could do, considering what the nachtkrapp had intended for them.

  Besides, they wouldn’t remember much of anything about their ordeal—the liaison Maeve had assigned me would make sure of it. I had called Sabine and asked her to meet us at the fort, which was blessedly dark and deserted at three in the morning. She’d been dispatched by Maeve to assist me earlier, but considering our recent history, I’d decided to wait until it was absolutely necessary before summoning her to my location.

  I had the children stay by my car while I walked out to greet her; they didn’t need to hear what Sabine and I were about to discuss. The night raven was inside the vehicle, tied to the seat and safely restrained by lots of paracord and the wards I’d placed on the Gremlin. That which was designed to keep things out could also keep things in, I’d found. I glanced back to make sure the children were okay, verifying they were with a snort. The two of them were taking turns poking the bird with a stick through the partially rolled-down window, and even with his beak taped shut, Nameless was making quite a fuss.

  After the employees at the junkyard had surprised me by fixing my car, it had taken me a week of all-nighters to replace the spell work on the little street rod. Apparently, my newly-inherited staff wanted to express how grateful they were that I hadn’t sold the junkyard after Uncle Ed’s passing. Thus the extensive body work on my main set of wheels, which I’d wrecked during the whole shit-show with Commander Gunnarson.

  Of course, I couldn’t tell them they’d sanded down and painted over about a hundred hours of spell work when they’d repaired the vehicle. And I wouldn’t have had the heart to tell them, even if I could reveal such secrets. Despite having to replace all my wards, I was still incredibly happy to have my Gremlin back. When people did things like that for you, you just accepted it as-is, with no fuss and all the graciousness you could muster.

  My life might have been a hot mess at the moment, but I was still carrying on my uncle’s legacy. That much was right in the world, at least.

  Minutes passed before Sabine pulled up in a late model Toyota, a nondescript sedan with stock wheels and boring silver paint. It was the type of car that could blend in and be instantly forgotten, even without the use of magic. The fact that she’d placed a look away spell on it meant that nobody but an adept would notice her driving by. Smart.

  I nodded at her as she got out of the car. “Sabine.”

  “Druid.” She glanced at me, stone-faced, then peered over my shoulder at the kids and the highly-agitated raven tied to the headrest in the passenger seat of the Gremlin. “I see you managed to retrieve the children unharmed. Will they need to be mind-wiped?”

  Before responding, I took a moment to assess the differences I saw in the half-fae girl who stood before me. Something had changed in her during our trip to Underhill. She’d become more confident and self-assured, leaving her former self-consciousness in the dust. Where the old Sabine would have stood with eyes downcast and shoulders slumped, avoiding eye contact while hiding behind appearance-altering magic, this new version of my estranged friend was no shrinking violet.

  The girl had always been a supernatural beauty, but before she’d hidden her allure with magic because she was self-conscious about how she looked. She was basically a blonde Christina Hendricks, but prettier due to her fae heritage. When I’d first met her, she’d concealed her figure under loose clothing and a reverse glamour spell. Yet this new Sabine was obviously proud of her looks, that much was clear.

  As I quickly took the new Sabine in, her stance was pure confidence—shoulders back, head up, and eyes fixed on mine, as if she were challenging me to make a comment. Her hair had been cut and styled into a severe but flattering bob à la Taylor Swift, which framed her heart-shaped face and sapphire-blue eyes nicely. She wore knee-high riding boots with tights, a lacy tunic dress that hit mid-thigh, and a short leather jacket. Even with minimal makeup, her beauty was on full display. She was stunning.

  Were we on better terms I’d have complimented her, but considering our currently strained relationship, I was afraid she’d take it the wrong way. So instead, I chose to focus on the mission.

  “Yes, both of them. It was a creature of shadow that took them, one that uses fear magic to subdue its victims. I nearly succumbed to it, actually—”

  Sabine cut me off mid-sentence, her voice flat as she responded. �
�I’ll take care of the children and get them back to their families. I already cleaned up the mess back at the antique shop as well. You’ll want to contact Maeve to let her know the job is done. As I understand it, the factions must each pay you a stipend for your services, and the queen wants to know her money isn’t being wasted.”

  “How did you—?”

  “I followed the police sirens. You’ve always been anything but subtle, druid.” She glanced at the children, who were hard at work sharpening their stick on a flat stone. “I need to attend to the children. Nightmare creatures have a way of turning good people to evil, and the influence gets stronger the longer they’re in the creature’s presence. You should leave, and take that thing with you.”

  She walked off without giving me a second glance, her Coach boots crunching the gravel underfoot. I opened my mouth to say something, anything, then I stopped myself. What would I say that hadn’t already been said? First, I’d unintentionally broken her heart, although she was too proud to admit it. Then, I’d betrayed her queen and potentially doomed her race to extinction by cutting off their connection to Underhill. All things considered, I really didn’t blame her for hating me.

  Still, I had to try. I called out to her, willing as much contrition into my voice as possible. “Sabine, wait.”

  She paused and raised her right hand, looking over her shoulder without actually making eye contact. “Please, druid. I may have to work with you, but I don’t have to like it. And we certainly don’t need to be friends to accomplish whatever tasks Maeve requests of you. Save your apologies for someone who cares.”

  I exhaled heavily. “If it’s what you want, then I’ll keep things on a professional level between us.”

  Sabine nodded once, then she approached the children, kneeling as she explained that she was there to take them back to their parents. She radiated a different kind of glamour as she spoke, one that enhanced her beauty and instilled trust. Once the children had relaxed, she wove a spell over each of them, erasing all memory of the past few days and putting them into a deep, restful sleep. I helped her carry the children to her car, strapping them into the back seat. Then, I watched as she hopped in the front seat without a word and drove off into the night.

  There was no way I was going to report to Maeve in person. I’d done her bidding for long enough, back before I’d gotten this ambiguous title and all the dubious responsibilities that came with it. Besides, my last visit to her home had been less than cordial, and I wasn’t in the mood to tangle with her pet assassins, Eliandres and Lucindras. I was dead tired, and taking on a couple of high fae stone killers was just not on the menu for the evening.

  So, I sent a message to her through “channels,” as she liked to call them. Meaning, I dialed up some stupid answering service she’d set up and left a message with them. Tell Maeve it’s been handled. Click. Fuck you, Maeve.

  When I got back to the junkyard I crashed hard, but woke up a few hours later due to the noise the morning crew made. Growling in frustration, I pulled a pillow over my head, then eventually I gave in to the inevitable and opened my eyes. Although being woken up by an air chisel at nine in the morning was annoying, the shop sounds were also comforting to me. The staccato rattling of an air wrench, the hiss of a cutting torch, the clang of a hundred-pound chrome bumper hitting the shop floor—it was all routine, and routine was what I needed right now.

  Still, the hardest part of my day was walking into the office and not seeing Ed there.

  May as well face it. I rolled out of bed, dressed in jeans, a t-shirt, and boots, and headed to the restroom to wash my face and brush my teeth. Once my daily ablutions were done I headed for the office, stopping along the way to say hello to the morning crew. Ed had always made a habit of greeting everyone by name, no matter how new they were. I felt obligated to do the same.

  It took an effort, though, because lately I’d been feeling angrier than usual. At first, I’d chalked it up to my uncle’s murder and the senseless killing of Elmo, the world’s gentlest ogre. But considering the intensity of my mood swings, I couldn’t help but wonder if there was something else going on.

  Once I’d checked in on the staff, I headed to the office. Before I walked in I paused for a second, just as I always did lately, bracing myself for Ed’s absence. I let out a deep breath as I opened the door. If I hadn’t known any better, I’d have said my uncle hadn’t been shot down here just weeks before. The bullet holes in the walls had been expertly patched, the blood stains magically removed, and the damaged furniture repaired or replaced. Most of that was Maureen’s doing, half-fae angel that she was—or angel of death, some might say.

  She was sitting behind Ed’s desk, working on the accounts or something. I had no idea how to run a business, so Maureen had agreed to work on our books and manage the office until I could find someone trustworthy to handle it.

  “Morning, Maureen.”

  The half-kelpie handed me a steaming cup of coffee in a to-go cup without looking away from the computer monitor in front of her. “Books have been balanced, but it looks like you’ll be short on payroll Friday, unless you can move some of your used inventory. Oh, and there’s a shadow creature taped and tied to your front seat. The thing shat all over your upholstery, by the way.”

  “Shit!”

  Maureen brushed a strand of fiery red hair behind her ear. “S’what I said. Hope you weren’t attached to those bucket seats. What I can’t understand is why you didn’t kill the thing and banish it back across the Veil in the first place. Something I should know?”

  I took a long pull off the coffee; it was hot and sweet, just how I liked it. How Maureen managed to have a hot cup waiting every day was a mystery to me. I suspected she either kept it warm for me by magical means or conjured it on the spot. Either way, it was a welcome gesture.

  “Good coffee.”

  She kept typing away at the keyboard while she spoke. “And again, don’t mention it. Yer bound ta’ slip one of these days and thank me for it, and where would that leave us?” She stopped to pencil a note on the desk blotter in front of her. “Now, what’s the story with the raven?”

  “I sort of made a deal with the thing—its life, in exchange for a divination.” I winced when I said it, expecting an ass-chewing.

  Maureen kept typing, but she glanced at me briefly with those emerald green eyes. “Ya damn well know better than that, Colin McCool. Hope it was worth it.”

  “That’s to be determined.”

  She crossed her arms and swiveled her chair to face me. “And what do you propose to do with it, now that you’ve agreed to spare the damned thing? Ya sure can’t leave it taped to the front seat of that car, that’s fer sure. Lucky I showed up early today, in time to cast a glamour on it ta’ hide it from the morning crew.”

  “Yeah, I was bushed last night when I got in and sort of forgot about it.”

  “So, where will you keep it? Ya’ can’t just let it go, and it’s yer responsibility now.”

  “I was kind of thinking about leaving it inside the tree,” I said with a sheepish grin and a half-shrug.

  Maureen chewed her lip. “Well, it’s as good a solution as any, but you still haven’t dealt with that situation, either. The girl needs to be banished, Colin. She died, and it ain’t natural, her coming back in another form.”

  “I know, and I’ll deal with it. I just have a lot on my mind right now.”

  Maureen harrumphed loudly. “Oh, woe is me! Lad, do ya’ think yer the only one who ever lost someone? Try living a few centuries, and then come crying to me.” Her expression softened a bit, perhaps because I glanced down at Ed’s chair. “Ah, I know it’s hard, but life goes on. You need ta’ suck it up, because your problems are only going ta’ get worse while yer busy crying in yer panties.”

  I started to get pissy, but had to laugh. “Oh, Maureen—how I’ve missed these little pep talks.”

  “If you think I’m mean, you should’ve seen the Seer back in his heyday. My, but th
at man could scream.” She smiled and winked at me. “Give it time, lad, and yer heart will heal. Now, I suggest you go take care of that foul creature—and spend some time thinking on how to deal with yer recently resurrected ex while yer at it.”

  When I opened the door to retrieve Nameless from the car, it was worse than Maureen had indicated. White, green, and brown goopy shit was all over the passenger seat, and the smell was just plain hideous—like urine and rotten eggs.

  My eyes did a quick sweep of our parking lot to make certain none of the employees or customers were around. Once I was assured of privacy, I cut the bird loose with my hunting knife, rousing him from his sleep as I grabbed him by the neck and ripped the tape from his beak.

  “Squawk! Is it necessary to be so rough, jaeger? I am captured and completely at your disposal, am I not?”

  “First off, I might be impulsive, but I’m not stupid enough to think you’re not going to try to escape or double-cross me. Second, you’re cleaning this up. Now.”

  The bird flapped his wings in protest, then stilled his movements—whether as a sign of resignation or exhaustion, I couldn’t be sure. The damned thing looked even more haggard than he had the night previous. Nameless still had the spine to glare at me, however, at least as much as he could glare with those eyeless sockets he had.

  “Fine!” he squawked. “But you can’t blame me for the mess. Birds have short alimentary tracts, you know, and since we can’t chew our food we rely on digestive juices to do the job. Thus, the constant need to defecate.”

  I squeezed the bird by his neck. “If I want a zoology lesson, I’ll watch Jeff Corwin. I only promised to spare your life, Nameless, so clean my seat now or I break something.”

  The nachtkrapp complied without further comment, and smoky tendrils of shadow oozed out of him. The raven’s magic swept the inside of my vehicle like the tentacles of an octopus, reminding me of my part-time ally and full-time frenemy, the wizard Crowley. He practices shadow magic, I thought. Wonder if he’d be willing to take this crap machine off my hands.