Hell Hound

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by Matthew Sylvester


  To avoid confusion—as well as torches, pitchforks, and inquisitions—there was a Glamour which meant the Mundanes would only hear their password, no matter what was said by the Magical customers.

  It was one of the smoothest operations I’d seen and one a lot of other similar establishments had attempted to copy. Most had failed dismally, which had at least kept the cleanup crews busy.

  The brown-haired Mrs. Lebowski lowered her thick-framed glasses and peered over them as we entered through the door. Dressed as ever in a classy black business suit and white silk shirt, she was the epitome of professionalism.

  'Dahling, I'm so sorry to hear about Steven.' She placed a hand over where one of her three hearts was, the main one, emphasising just how sorry she was. Sometimes, it was hard to understand whether Fae were being sincere or not.

  They were from Elsewhere, after all, aliens. To ascribe human emotions and feelings to them was decidedly risky. However, placing her hand over her main heart showed that she was genuinely upset. Steven had been respected by many of the members of the Magical community.

  'I'm sure he'll be fine,' although how long it'll take for the memories to fade, God only knows. I glanced around at and used my Sight to read the word. 'Serendipity.'

  It didn't matter how many times we'd been there, if we didn't say the password, we didn't get in. Those who tried to break the rules soon learned to regret their actions. Being banned was the least of the punishments meted out.

  'Excellent, please go through. Oh, and Jane, no trouble, there's a good girl.' She smiled, briefly, dropping her Visage and baring large, yellowing, shark-like fangs. 'I'd hate for anything to occur.'

  'No trouble, right, got you,' I gasped, my mouth suddenly drier than a mummy's arse. 'Come on, Dawn, I'm gasping for a cocktail.'

  'Right behind you,' replied Dawn, pressing up so close that she was practically pushing me through the door, which closed as soon as we were through it.

  'Oh, “Xyloswing”. I bloody love this tune,' she laughed, images of shark-like teeth and rending of flesh seemingly forgotten.

  A waiter stepped up and led us straight to our usual table. I wouldn't like to say that we made a habit of drinking cocktails, but the Book Cover featured a lot on my credit card bills.

  As we walked through, we shared nods, smiles, and murmured 'hellos' with the various patrons. The beat of the song was infectious, and the fact that there was a low-level Glamour that had everyone shaking their booty whenever they were stood meant that the farther we went, the more we danced our way down.

  Even before we were seated, Dawn had ordered a Bee's Knees for her, and a Corpse Reviver for me. I doubt we needed to really, as we ordered the same thing for our first drink every time.

  I looked at one of the boards and clapped my hands in delight when I saw who the guest burlesque dancer for the night was. Mojo Jones was the only dancer I had ever seen do Toy Story, Cthulhu, and Tron as burlesque acts. She was a true mistress of the geek, perfectly blending popular culture with comedy, dancing, and semi-nudity.

  Tonight was looking to be a good one. Free from angst, free from trouble, and pissed-off Fae with far too many teeth.

  'Shitting fuck and wank.' Dawn's words, as well the as the tone in which they were uttered, shattered my sense of wellbeing and combobulation.

  'What?' I looked up at her, and then in the direction she was looking.

  Caroline Smith, a minor Merlin, was headed over to our table, an already-ugly face twisted into anger. I was certain she had Troll blood somewhere down the line. Dressed to the nines in what looked like a flapper dress, hair nearly coiffured and slicked back, she looked like the epitome of a person from the 1920s. It really was a good effort on her behalf, one of the reasons I enjoyed coming to the Book Cover. People always made an effort.

  However, a Troll in a dress was still a Troll, and from the looks of it, she was going to be Trolling us when all I really wanted to do was get pleasantly sozzled.

  Our drinks arrived just before she did, the waiter forcing her to wait as he carefully placed our booze-filled teacups onto the table. I decided to piss her off a little more by asking several questions to which I knew the answer. Then Dawn joined in. Without looking at Caroline, I could practically feel the heat of her anger rolling over us in waves.

  'Cheers!' I said as we clinked our teacups together, still ignoring the now incandescent Merlin. I took a deep drink. Not only would it calm my nerves after today's encounter with Steve, but I had a feeling this was the only drink I was going to have in the Book Cover that night.

  'Caroline, please join us,' I said exuberantly as she slammed her fat arse onto a chair.

  Dawn wisely stayed silent. An apprentice was not best placed when it came to disrespecting a senior member of our community. No matter how minor.

  'You fucking bitch.' She snarled, hunching her entire body over the table. She was a smoker and her nicotine-stained teeth and rank breath made me want to urge.

  'Thanks, I had it done at Hair at One, fabulous place and right next to a park so you can have a nice walk after.' I sipped some more of the excellent cocktail as her brain tried to parse what she'd said and how I'd replied. Thinking made her even uglier. It was petty but fun. And she was ruining a much-needed night out.

  'Don't play games with me, you know what I'm talking about,' she said, jabbing a blunt-nailed finger at me.

  'Actually, no. I have an inkling. However, my job is to take down Marks, any of whom might be related to, or linked to, you in some way. Why, only last week, I took down a Grudge of Trolls. Cousins perhaps?'

  And with that, I drained my cup.

  Sudden coughing to my right prevented Caroline from answering.

  'Dawn, dear, are you ill?' I placed my hand on her arm and squeezed, setting off another round of coughing.

  'No, I'm fine,' she wheezed, tears rolling down her cheeks. 'Rum just went the wrong way!'

  Smiling, I turned my attention to Caroline, whose piggy little face was scrunched up in confusion. She was finding out it’s hard to argue with someone when they're a few hundred IQ points above you.

  'Apprentices, sometimes you even have to remind them to breathe!' I stifled a yelp as a steel-toe capped boot clinked into my shin.

  Eyes watering slightly, I looked over at Dawn, who sat back and firmly folded her arms. I gave her a tight smile in way of apology.

  'I’m talking about Steve!' Her strident tone cut through the music and happy chatter of the bar like claws down a blackboard.

  'Keep your voice down. You know the rules.' And the first rule was ‘No trouble.’

  A waiter appeared, her shirt resembling a bag stuffed with melons, a curled horn in the centre of the forehead, and carved tusks proclaiming her clan as a member of the Ogre Backbreakers Clan. Looking at the muscles on her arms, she could probably live up to the name just by sneezing at me.

  'Mrs. Lebowski asks that you please refrain from coarse language and disturbing the night's enjoyment for other patrons,' she said in a voice that sounded like an avalanche of particularly pissed off rocks.

  That was directed at me, not the fat cow spoiling my night. Still, I wasn't going to argue with her and held my hands up. 'No coarse language, no trouble. Could I please have another Slammer?'

  'I'll send someone over.' I wasn't sure if that was a smile or a snarl. The former was more reassuring, so I plumped for that.

  'Happy now?' I said to Caroline, chucking my chin at the impressively large back of Backbreaker as she went to get my order.

  'No, I'm bloody not. You put Steven into the hospital. It's going to take months for him to grow back his teeth.'

  'Yes. And the reasons for that are between him and me. Have you spoken to him?'

  'No, but that's beside the point. You attacked our Librarian, and you have the bloody cheek to come swanning in her like you own the place!'

  She jabbed a finger at me as if she expected to have it returned whole. In my mind, I'd already grabbed hold of, and brok
en, it in several extremely satisfying ways. Violence, right now, wasn't the solution. Unfortunately.

  I relaxed my hands, unclenching the fists they'd made. The urge to punch her in the face was strong. It was only because I knew the trouble I'd be in if I did that I didn't.

  She sneered at me, and I swear if she'd been wearing a hooded cloak, she'd have been the spitting image of Emperor Palpatine.

  'You're nothing but a bloody vigilante. He was Compelled for God's sake,' she hissed, rank breath washing over me once again.

  'You what?' said my eloquent apprentice, leaning forward. 'How the fuck do you know he was Compelled?'

  She had a point. How did Caroline know? The woman had paled, leaning away from me, eyes darting, avoiding my gaze.

  I let the question hang for a few seconds, dragging the silence out. 'I believe that Dawn asked you a very pertinent question. How did you know Steve had been Compelled?'

  There was no way the Librarian would have told a social climber and tattletale such as Caroline that he had been Compelled. It would have undermined his standing in the overly-judgemental Magical community. The only people who knew were us, Steve, and John, and the Merlins he reported to.

  'Well, I mean,' she floundered about for answer, 'it's the only thing that could have caused him to attack you.'

  'Just a second ago, you claimed we attacked him.' Dawn's voice was dangerously soft. She was ready for action. Normally loud and brash, when it came to trouble, she adopted the ‘talk softly and carry a big stick’ approach.

  'How dare you put words in my mouth. You're nothing but a snivelling Wyldling!' That last was spoken rather too loudly and with far too much vehemence behind it. She was truly a bigoted bitch.

  Backbreaker appeared at our table as if she'd never left, a large hand settling on Caroline's shoulder. The bitch's legs buckled under the weight of it, and I saw her try to hide a wince as Backbreaker's fingers gave her what probably passed for a gentle squeeze.

  'I do believe that I've already warned one of you about spoiling the night for others. One more warning and I'll be forced to ask you to leave. Keep. It. Down.' If she'd previously sounded like an avalanche of rocks, this now sounded like an entire mountain getting ready to fuck a load of people up.

  This was one fight I most certainly didn't want to be part of. Although, I would have paid a large sum to watch Caroline having the piss beaten out of her.

  It was Caroline's turn to appease the waiter. Although a curled lip and a hissed, ‘Fine, sorry,’ didn't seem to be all that heart-felt. The waiter took it at face value, thankfully, and left.

  'I think I'm going to be calling at your house tomorrow Caroline. You have details of a Mark that only someone involved would know.' I pitched my voice low, keeping it below the hubbub that had resumed about us.

  'You'll be doing nothing of the sort, you bitch-dike! Com…' Her hand clasped an Icon hanging from her necklace as she started to cast a Compel spell. Stunned that she would do such a thing in front of so many witnesses, I was left scrabbling for a defence.

  Not Dawn. There was a blur from my right, a solid thump, and a squawk from Caroline as she flew sideways from her seat, smashing into the table next to us as she crashed to the floor.

  'Nice elbow!' I said the first thing that came to mind. Followed by the second, 'Oh, bollocks.'

  Backbreaker was back, and so was shark-toothed Mrs. Lebowski. I didn't even have a chance to start apologising before she Cast. My mouth was suddenly glued shut, my arms and legs pinned, body stiff as a board.

  Able only to move my eyes, I saw that Dawn was similarly affected. I watched impotently as Caroline's back disappeared through the exit. Bitch.

  After that, we suffered the humiliation of the Backbreaker carrying us out of the Book Cover, one under each armpit like ironing boards, to be deposited outside the back entrance.

  'I'm getting sick and tired of being thrown about and abused by Magic-users,' growled Dawn as the spell started to wear off. We could talk, but we still couldn't move. Which was unfortunate as we were also lying in what I really hoped wasn’t puke.

  'Get used to it, babes. It's one of the perks of the jobs.' I'd lost count of the number of times I'd been in similar situations. Some enjoyable, many far less so.

  'Think she did it? Compelled Steve?'

  I had to think about that. Caroline was a minor Merlin, which meant that whilst she might have had power, it didn't necessarily mean she had Power.

  Bloodlines didn't dictate ability, no matter what some people liked to believe. Take Dawn for example. She was a Wyldling and her tests so far had put her into the low 80th percentile of the Magical community. I'd tested in the ninetieth, something I liked to rib her about.

  'If she'd caught him unawares, anything's possible. It would only have taken a Minor Compulsion, to gain control, and then she could have taken her time laying a more powerful one over him once she'd got her hooks settled in with the first.'

  No matter how Powerful a Magician someone might be, unless they’re expecting a specific attack, Compulsion for example, defending against it is nearly impossible.

  It was still highly unlikely, but since I disliked her, I was willing to think the worst of her at every opportunity. She really had pissed on our good night.

  'We going to see her tomorrow then?'

  'Oh, most definitely, grasshopper, most definitely.' I may even have rubbed my hands together at the thought. I was going to seriously ruin her day.

  Grinning at the thought, I thumbed a quick message to John, giving him a heads up that there was going to be a seriously pissed off House of Merlins tomorrow. The grin grew as I received a response almost immediately.

  FUCK THEM.

  Once the Holding spell had fully worn off, we somewhat stiffly made our way through the now-dark streets of Exeter to our car. Having only had the one drink a couple of hours ago, I felt Dawn was more than safe to drive.

  That, and she bloody loved driving my Porsche. Who wouldn't? It was a sexy beast that made the person driving it feel sexy, powerful, and fucking privileged. I was always more than happy to acknowledge just how privileged I was compared to most people.

  Even by owning the car, I was doing that. Unlike some who own such things to rub other's faces in their wealth, I was driving the car to acknowledge the wealth that I had.

  Most people never looked past the car however, judging me without knowing or even asking about what I did for charity. Which was a lot.

  There wasn't much to be said as we drove to Crediton beyond moaning about how sore we were from being propped up against a wall for hours.

  Despite that, we had a lead. It wasn't a solid as I might have hoped, as I was expecting a more senior Merlin to be involved, but it was a lead. There was always the fact that many, too many to count, attempts to grab power had been made by people overestimating their own importance.

  Dawn was a smooth driver, especially now that she'd completed an advanced driving course a couple of weeks ago, and I found myself being lulled into sleep.

  'Shit!' she squawked as I was slammed forward in my seat, the seatbelt digging deep into parts Heineken would claim other beers couldn't reach. The car fishtailed on the damp road before coming to a halt.

  Blinking the sleep from eyes, I looked up, wincing from a pain in my neck, and saw the reason for the sudden pause in our journey.

  Hazard lights blinking erratically, a battered-looking VW Polo was parked at an angle across the road. Having just come around a corner, it was lucky we hadn't hit them.

  'What sort of utter tit leaves a broken-down car in the middle of the road!' said Dawn, flicking our lights on to dim and then full again.

  She got her answer as a Fireball punched through my side window, sizzled past my face, and exited the car via her side window.

  'Ambush left! Bail!' I powered up my Shield Icon, kicking my door open, leaving it Shield first. Dawn's hand rested lightly on my back. More Fireballs whizzed in the direction of the car, some hi
ssing over my shoulder from behind me.

  'Contact right!' I felt Dawn's hand tense on my shoulder. We moved out of the car as smoothly as we could, the constant drills we had run meaning we were out if the car in less than ten seconds.

  'Bastards!' said Dawn as a blizzard of Fireballs peppered the car from both sides, my Shield glowing brightly from near constant hits. Dawn squeezed closer to me. She was vulnerable, unable to Shield herself properly.

  I cursed myself for not preparing better for this. Even as my car melted, and Fireballs continued to be thrown at us, I made a mental note to get her some Icons that would be of actual use.

  'Fight through!' Our attackers were in a field a few metres from our position. They had sod-all cover and had probably thought we'd take longer reacting. People always underestimate us, seeming to view us as incompetently amateurish as them.

  Amateurs they might be, but they're powerful amateurs, I thought as I felt the car burst into flames behind us, Fireballs coming from the car blocking the road now as well.

  I caught sight of a Casting and let rip with a Bolt. Fifty thousand volts of electricity skittered their way through the air before hitting my target's Shield.

  My stomach flipped as I saw that it was one of Stinky Pete's mates. Bastard, I thought. I'd always felt a certain level of odium for Stinky Pete and his crew. But the thought that they had very nearly ended mine and Dawn's life with one Fireball made me want to throw up. Plus, they owed me a bloody expensive car.

  Keeping the flow up, I advanced over at the attacker, praying that their Shield would give out before I got too tired. Dawn moved behind me, adding the weight of her pistol to my Lightning.

  Kinetic energy was just as good at defeating Shields as Magic was. Depending on the Casting used, it was sometimes far better. Some Magic users tended to forget that Mundane weapons were just as effective as Magic, and always seemed to be surprised when they got shot. Or blown up. 9mm slugs found Shields cast to stop Magic as easy to penetrate as thin air. Or flesh, in this case.

  Thank God! I thought as their Shield flared brightly, then disappeared. There was an agonised screech as my Bolt cooked them where they stood, then a wet popping sound as what looked like their head burst.

 

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