The Junkyard Druid Box Set 2

by M. D. Massey

  “He’s dead, Colin. We got here too late.”

  “But it appears we arrived just in time—didn’t we, Lucius?” a cultured, almost female voice said from the doorway.

  “Indeed we did, Gaius. Indeed we did,” a similarly epicene voice answered.

  I spun with a growl, knife held low and pointed at the threat with my other hand held high in a tight fist. The brothers were almost twins, tallish in height and lean in the soft way the leisurely rich were versus that of the active and athletic. Each had removed their masks, revealing their pale skin, flowing blonde locks, and elongated, Hapsburgian features. The siblings were dressed stylishly in matching Italian three-piece suits, but neither one would win any Brad Pitt lookalike contests.

  I was certain they wouldn’t like what I held in my hand—no, not at all. All that kept them from suffering that fate was I was saving it for their master.

  “Well, hello, boys. Lucius, I see you grew your hand back,” I said with venom in my voice.

  Lucius’s eyes lit up with recognition. “Druid!”

  “One and the same,” I replied with a slight nod of my head. “If you’d be so kind as to step aside, I’m about to go kill your boss. Or I could kill you first. It’s no skin off my nose either way.”

  Lucius giggled in a high, girlish manner. He responded to my threat in a detached, almost pleasant tone. “Good luck with that, druid. Even if you could get past us—which you won’t—you have no idea what you’re dealing with when it comes to Saint Germain. He’s old, crafty, and has skills that are of a very… unique nature.”

  Gaius calmly nodded in agreement with his sibling’s assessment, a single curl of blonde hair in the middle of his forehead bobbing with him. “I’d almost be tempted to let him pass, brother, to watch the master teach him a lesson. But he did cut off your hand, and his meddling also cost Father his chance at revenge. I don’t believe we can let those insults pass, do you?”

  “Not at all, brother, not at all,” was Lucius’ reply. “Shall we?”

  “We sh—” Gaius’ reply was cut off as Fallyn pounced across the room to drop kick him in the chest. She landed with both feet, likely in an effort to stake him with one of those four-inch heels she wore.

  “You boneheads talk too much,” Fallyn asserted as they both flew out the door.

  That left Lucius and I inside the room, and I wasted no time closing the gap. While the two dandies had been chit-chatting, I’d already stealth-shifted to increase my muscle and bone mass. Right now, I was as strong as any young vamp, and nearly as quick. My blade was already headed straight for the dandy’s throat a split second after I initiated combat.

  Lucius’s eyes grew wide, but he recovered quickly. He might have been a fop, but he was a relatively mature vamp, and apparently he’d had some training. The bloodsucker leaned back, just enough to avoid my blade with time to spare.

  Good reflexes, even for a leech.

  After months spent fighting for my life against Lucius’ kind, I’d anticipated that he might respond with just such a move. While I didn’t want to release the spell I was holding, I thought I could let a tiny amount of that power escape without releasing the entire thing. And that’s exactly what I did.

  Since I’d put the vamp on his heels, I simply stepped in with a looping, overhand left that caught him square on the cheek. The punch snapped his head back and crushed his cheekbone with a loud crunch. It was a satisfying enough result, but the real payoff was the sizzling, crackling sound that filled the air as a trickle of light from my sunlight spell fried the skin from his face.

  The scream the vampire released was unearthly loud and unreasonably effeminate. I’d seen Fallyn and Bells both take way worse hits than that and not howl like Lucius. Of course, half his face had melted off, and I knew from past experience that vamps didn’t heal from sun burns without a shit-ton of fresh blood and rest.

  Unfortunately for Lucius, I was determined he’d never get the chance. I followed the attack by thrusting my blade into the soft flesh between his throat and his chin, driving it through the soft palate into his brain. My heart warmed with the satisfaction of watching the light go out in his eyes.

  Better make sure he’s dead.

  I grabbed a handful of those curly golden locks and lopped his head off with a backhand, then a forehand stroke of my blade. Thick black blood splattered across the wall behind his corpse, and I kicked the body away to keep any of his filth from getting on me. Human blood was one thing, but vamp blood was rife with the vyrus. It was best to avoid it whenever possible.

  Fallyn sprinted back into the room at that moment, barefoot and grinning from ear to ear. She stopped and her mouth formed an “O” as she took in the carnage I’d visited on Lucius.

  “Damn, druid. You do not fuck around.”

  “Did you kill him?” I asked.

  Her grin faltered. “Naw, my heel must’ve missed his heart by a fraction of an inch. But I managed to get this as a souvenir.” She held up what looked like a bloody blonde wig, but there were bits of skin and tissue around the edges.

  “You scalped him?”

  “Meh. I tried grabbing him by the hair so I could twist his head off, but the little fucker took off at vampire speed in retreat. I had a good fistful of this mop when he decided to split, so he tore his own scalp clean off when he ran.” She tossed it over her shoulder. “With the Dumbo ears he was sporting, the prissy little bitch is going to look damned funny without all that hair to cover them.”

  It took but a moment’s consideration to decide that I didn’t want Gaius to have his scalp back. I stuck my knife in Lucius’ chest. “Hold this,” I deadpanned. Then, I spoke a single word in Gaelic. “Spréach.” A spark flew from my now outstretched hand, landing on Gaius’ scalp and lighting it aflame.

  “Now, he’ll have to grow it back the hard way.”

  “Wow. That’s petty, but I like your style.” Fallyn nodded at my other hand. “What do you have there, his nose?”

  I chuffed. “You’ll see. Just be sure you close your eyes when I raise my fist over my head.”

  “Whatever you say, golden boy.” She pointed a thumb at Lucius’ head. “No growing that back. Think his dad is going to be pissed?”

  “I’m counting on it.” I grabbed Lucius’ head by the hair, like Perseus claiming his Gorgon prize. “Now, let’s go find Germain.”

  When we exited into the hall, I could already hear a commotion coming from downstairs. Gaius was babbling incoherently, and a chorus of angry voices echoed from the foyer below. I calmly walked to the top of the stairs and tossed Lucius’ head down the steps, watching every bounce with gratification as it left a dark and bloody trail all the way to the bottom landing.

  “That’s what I do to vampires who prey on humans,” I stated in my Hyde-side voice. “Now, bring me Saint Germain.”

  My left fist was still clenched in anticipation of the vampires’ inevitable response. I just wanted to get my target in full, clear view before I cut loose with my spell.

  Speak of the devil.

  Jack Germain walked out of the parlor, nudging his way through the crowd of vamps below. “I knew you were more than you appeared, Beauregard—if that even is your name. That’s why I sent Lucius and Gaius looking for you when you vanished. Although it appears I may have underestimated the threat you pose.”

  I pulled my mask off, tossing it away. My cover had already been blown, so there was no sense maintaining the masquerade. “Colin McCool, actually. But most folks call me the Junkyard Druid.”

  Fallyn leaned in and whispered in my ear. “We’re revealing our identities? You didn’t tell me we were revealing our identities!”

  “Relax and keep your mask on.” I whispered back. “Bad enough they know who I am now.”

  Germain squeezed Gaius’ shoulder to comfort him while the rest of the vamps below hissed up at us. The younger vamp cowered in his father’s arms, bleeding all over him, but Cornelius only had eyes for me.

  The c
hubby old vamp’s voice simmered with low menace as he spoke to his master. “He’s Luther’s pet, but let me kill him and I’ll swear allegiance to you for all eternity.” Germain said nothing, so the chubby popinjay looked up at me with hatred in his eyes. “Before, I owed you a quick demise—but now, I’ll surely make your death linger.”

  Cornelius released his son, handing him off to a nearby vamp before taking a step toward me. Germain, on the other hand, stood his ground as he eyed my clenched fist. The would-be coven leader spoke almost inaudibly in French.

  “C'est un piège. Fuir.”

  Two things happened in the next instant. First, every vamp in the place scattered, just as their master had commanded. Second, I thrust my fist high in the air and released my sunlight spell.

  As anyone who has ever dealt with vamps knows, they’re faster than hell. Even the young ones can move like Usain Bolt on speed, and the older ones often appear as a blur to human eyes when they pour it on. However, in my shifted form I was also hellaciously fast—if not vampire fast, then at least werewolf quick.

  Of course, no vamp is faster than the speed of light.

  I’d spent all afternoon meditating and gathering solar energy out on the Audubon Park Trail, so this spell was a doozy. White-hot light suffused everything around, with the exception of Fallyn and me. Most of the older vamps were already out the door or in the adjacent rooms when my sunlight spell went off, but several others weren’t so lucky.

  The younger vampires burst into flames immediately. Some collapsed on the spot, continuing to burn like tallow candles on a sconce, while others managed to escape, leaving trails of smoke that smelled like putrid bacon burning on a skillet.

  Within seconds, the spell was spent. Although I’d killed at least a dozen vamps and wounded easily two dozen more, Saint Germain had escaped.

  Damn it.

  Pursuit would’ve been futile, as Germain could probably move faster than both Fallyn and I put together.

  Well, that didn’t quite go as planned.

  Apparently, the sight of several burning figures running down Royal Street was cause for commotion. By the time I’d checked all the bodies to make sure we weren’t leaving any stragglers behind, we could already hear sirens in the distance. Rather than stick around to explain all the charred corpses, I unlatched a window in the rear of the house, just in case I wanted to come back in the morning. Then, we left by jumping the garden wall out back.

  Back at the hotel, I showered and changed, then plopped down on the couch to watch some late-night television. Fallyn was not nearly so relaxed, however. She paced the floor, alternating between being excited about the brief scuffle and worried she might catch hell from her dad.

  “Do you think you killed anyone from our demesne?” she asked.

  “Fallyn, for the hundredth time, I made sure I didn’t recognize anyone there before I triggered my spell. I know just about everyone in Luther’s coven, and I’m positive those were all local vamps. Trust me, there won’t be any blowback on you or your dad.”

  “Yeah, but they know it was you now. And that means Dad is going to hear about this. If he finds out I was with you, he’s going to have a shit attack of major proportions.”

  “Maybe, but I’m a neutral entity now, remember? I don’t answer to Samson anymore, or Maeve, or Luther, because the druid justiciar works to protect every faction in the demesne. That makes it even less likely anyone will associate the Pack with what we did tonight. Besides, you didn’t even shift. If anyone asks, I’ll say I hired a human hunter for backup. Problem solved.”

  Fallyn arched an eyebrow. “A human hunter with superhuman strength and reflexes?”

  “I dunno. Maybe they’ll think you’re on steroids.”

  “Colin…” she said in a low growl.

  I sat up, running my hands through my hair and then throwing them up in the air. “I thought you wanted some excitement. I mean, you knew what the job was before you stepped on that plane. Why are you getting cold feet all the sudden?”

  She winced, tight-lipped, so I stood up and walked to the mini-fridge to give her time to decide what she wanted to say. Anyway, I had a feeling this was going to be a “serious discussion,” and if so, I was going to need a drink.

  I plopped back down on the couch with two beers. Fallyn sat down on the love seat catercorner from me, knees together and feet askew with her hands in her lap. “Colin, you don’t know what it’s like being Pack. Not only am I Samson’s daughter, but I’m also his second now.”

  I popped the cap off a bottle with my thumb and toasted her with it. “Oh yeah? Cheers then, Fallyn. That’s great news.” The she-wolf frowned until I held the other bottle up. She nodded, so I tossed it over and took my seat again.

  Samson’s only daughter took a long swig from her beer, then held it to her head. “Yeah, it kind of is good news, but it’s also a lot of pressure, you know? I mean, being the alpha’s kid, the whole nepotism thing comes up—”

  “Sure, but I’ve hung out with the ’thropes in your Pack. Heck, Fallyn, you’re three times the wolf any of the other candidates are—Sledge and Trina included.”

  She gave me a wry smile. “Thanks, but you know as well as I do it doesn’t matter. Whatever I do reflects back on Dad.”

  “Making it harder for you to step out from behind his shadow,” I said before taking a swig of my beer.

  “Exactly. Dad has always kept close tabs on me, even though he likes to think he lets me do as I choose.”

  “I know that. Last time I spoke with him, he pretty much warned me off you. Didn’t help that you practically propositioned me in front of him, though.”

  Fallyn squinted. “Um, sorry?”

  I chuckled. “Hey, don’t sweat it. I’ve, uh, done a lot of thinking lately, and I decided I’m not going to worry what people think about me anymore. I have a lot of responsibility and a lot of people counting on me, and I can’t be second-guessing my decisions based on the opinions of others. So, I guess what I’m saying is—”

  “Fuck ’em?”

  I raised my beer and winked. “Fuck ’em.”

  Fallyn clinked the neck of her bottle against mine, then downed it. As she stood, my eyes lingered on her lithe, athletic form.

  I looked away quickly, setting my beer down on the side table. “I should really be going to—oof!”

  I suddenly had a lap full of female ’thrope. Fallyn sat astride me on the couch, her yellow eyes reflecting the hunger we both felt for each other.

  “Fallyn, if you keep coming at me like this, I may not be able to resist.”

  “That’s what I’m hoping for, golden boy.”

  The girl leaned in and ran the tip of her tongue up the side of my neck. When I felt her hot breath on my ear, she nibbled on my earlobe and ground her hips against me, causing me to respond in kind.

  “I’m not sure this is a good idea,” I whispered.

  Fallyn leaned away from me, looking me in the eyes with her hands clasped behind my neck.

  “Poor conflicted Colin,” she said without a hint of condescension in her voice. “You’re just too good for your own good, champ. But eventually, you’ll come to your senses. And when you do, I’ll damned sure make it worth your while.”

  Fallyn gave me a lingering kiss, then hopped up and walked to her bedroom, closing the door behind her. Of course, I watched her go.

  Door’s still open just a crack. Belladonna did break up with me, right? And Jesse is batshit crazy. Maybe a little harmless sex with a sane, reasonable woman is just the thing I need.

  I sighed, realizing that I needed to settle things with both Bells and Jesse before I started playing the field. Besides, I didn’t want Fallyn to get the wrong idea. She seemed to take a pretty casual attitude toward sex, but as far as I knew, she’d never hooked up with anyone in the Pack. Female wolves might act all brazen and brassy, but they tended to mate for life. If Fallyn had actual feelings for me, things with her could get complicated real quick.

&n
bsp; Besides, you have bigger fish to fry right now, Colin old boy.

  I growled in frustration, covering the throbbing in my lap with a pillow. Fallyn’s door beckoned. Instead of doing the obvious thing, I chugged the rest of my beer and headed to bed.

  Man, I am such a fucking martyr.

  10

  The next day, Fallyn flew back to Austin. We both agreed that if she was seen around NOLA with me, people would put two and two together and realize she’d been involved in the attack at Saint Germain’s place. So, back home she went.

  When I dropped her off at the airport I gave her a hug, she snuck a kiss, and we parted with a lot left unsaid between us. I watched her walk all the way away, this time with just a single bag, since she’d checked all the rest of her luggage at the curb. And damn it if I didn’t almost chase her and ask her to stay another day.

  There I go, thinking with the wrong head again. Man, I really do need to get laid.

  But, more importantly, I needed to take out Saint Germain. Not just because what he’d done to that poor man was an intolerable offense; it was also because I needed Remy’s complete trust so I could move around in his coven at will. Then, I could find the key players who were going to trigger the apocalypse and take them off the board.

  Would that stop it? I honestly had no idea, but Click seemed to think it would. I hated to rely on the opinion of a slightly-wacko trickster god, but it was the best I could do at the moment. Once I got back to Austin, I’d ask Finnegas what he knew about chronomancy and chronourgy and see if Click was yanking my chain.

  But until then, I had to focus on Saint Germain and the NOLA coven.

  I headed back to Saint Germain’s, but the place was empty. It wasn’t just that there were no occupants—the damned place looked like no one had lived in it in ages. Much of the furniture had been removed, and what was left had been draped in sheets of linen and plastic. Even more surprising, there was a layer of dust all over everything, and cobwebs hung from the light fixtures and high corners of every room.