Blood Bound: A Junkyard Druid Urban Fantasy Short Story Collection (Junkyard Druid Novellas Book 4)

by M. D. Massey

  She shook her head. “Looks like Lafayette Cemetery, but I don’t see any houses around the outskirts. I’m betting not.”

  “Something told me you were going to say that,” I said, adjusting my baldric. Squaring my shoulders, I headed for the gate. “Alright, then. Time to make the mother-fucking beignets. Let’s get this over with.”

  10

  Any fool could see the gate was warded against entry, so I squatted in front of it, examining the spells that guarded the door to Mètminwi’s realm. It didn’t take me long to figure out that it was going to take some work to get the damned thing open. I was good at picking spell-locks and breaking wards, but apparently Mètminwi was even better at creating them.

  “I’m going to need a minute to get this open,” I said as I stood. “If you could—”

  Janice pushed past me, cutting me off mid-sentence. “We don’t have time for that. The doorway to Mètminwi’s realm will be gone at dawn, and if we’re stuck inside there when it disappears, there’s no telling how long it’ll be before another one opens up.”

  “Okay, then what are we going to do? That gate’s locked up tighter than a frog’s ass, and I don’t have the juice to bust it down, even in my other form.”

  Janice looked at the gate for a moment, pursing her lips. “No need. It so happens that I have a key.”

  She reached into the front of her dress, pulling an old-fashioned skeleton key from her bosom.

  “Okay, that’s not cliché at all,” I said.

  “What, that I have a skeleton key, or that I pulled it out of my bra?”

  “Both.”

  She stuck her tongue out at me. “You’re just upset that you didn’t get to show off by breaking through a minor god’s wards.”

  “Yeah, well—maybe a little.”

  “Be glad I have the danged thing. It’s how I get back and forth from Gran’s house to her real digs in the underworld.” She walked over to the doorway, gingerly inserting the key into a keyhole on the left side of the gate. “Let’s just hope it gets us into Mètminwi’s secret hideout, too.”

  I held my breath as she turned the key. A mechanism inside the gate clicked, and the heavy iron barrier creaked open a few inches. Janice retrieved the key and tucked it back in her bra, adjusting her cleavage absently for good measure. She frowned at the doorway, hands together as she silently tapped her fingers together in front of her chest.

  In all honesty, I couldn’t blame her for hesitating. We were about to tweak a minor god’s nose on his own turf, after all—not exactly an advisable course of action under any circumstances. I stepped up next to her, eyes glued to the gate as I drummed up the courage to step through.

  “Ahem. I suppose we’d better get a move on.”

  Janice gulped. “Right—adventure awaits.”

  “Um, do you think your Gran will come after us? I mean, once she figures out we didn’t make it to the ball.”

  “Probably not. Nobody knows we’re here but us.”

  I thought about all the times I’d faced down other super-baddies from The World Beneath on my own, remembering that I’d come out on top every single time. Usually by the skin of my teeth, but still.

  Nobody lives forever.

  “Fuck it, let’s do this,” I said, kicking the gate open. It swung wide, clanging against something on the other side. A cold wind blasted through the doorway, carrying the stale smell of long-decayed flesh.

  “Again, subtle,” Janice chided.

  “Meh—he knows we’re here,” I said as I walked through the doorway. “May as well announce our arrival.”

  “Sure, now that you’ve told him we’re coming,” she groused, following me through the gate.

  I ignored her, holstering my gun as I cupped my hands to my mouth. “Mètminwi! Mètminwi, show yourself, you son of a bitch. You took something that doesn’t belong to you, and we’re here to get it back.”

  Deep, rasping laughter echoed through the graveyard. “Ah, so da’ druid and his little voodoo princess have arrived. Took ya’ long enough.”

  “Yeah, well maybe if you hadn’t run off like a little bitch, we wouldn’t have had to chase you across town all night to get here,” I said, raising my voice over the graveyard wind that howled all around.

  His laughter shook the ground. “And jes’ what do you tink yer’ about to accomplish by comin’ ta’ ol’ Mètminwi’s graveyard, eh?”

  “You took Gran’s necklace, Mètminwi,” Janice growled. “And I want it back!”

  “Ah, cher,” the loa boomed. “Dont’cha tink udders have tried ta’ best me before? And dey failed, every last one.”

  Leaning over, I whispered in Janice’s ear. “You see him anywhere?”

  She shook her head. “Nope. It’s his realm, so we won’t see him unless he wants us to.”

  “As long as he stays hidden, we’re dead in the water. If we’re going to get your necklace back, I’ll need you to draw him out, and then keep him busy while I shift.”

  She arched an eyebrow. “Does this mean I’m going to get to see your other half?”

  “I’m single right now, so I’ll assume you’re referring to my Hyde-side.”

  “Oh, so that’s what you call it. Sure, I’ll get him to reveal himself and keep him occupied while you shift,” she replied with a wicked grin. “Then you can kick his ass and get my Gran’s necklace back.”

  “Wish me luck,” I said, heading for the gate.

  “Luck,” she replied, then she cupped her hands to her mouth. “Stop hiding, loa, and face the music. You took what doesn’t belong to you, and I intend to get it back. So, show yourself—unless you’re afraid of a little ol’ human mambo like me.”

  Mètminwi’s face appeared out of the darkness about ten feet above where Janice stood. He smiled, pulling his taut gray skin even tighter to reveal two rows of jagged yellow teeth.

  “Na’ reason ta’ be scared of a tiny little ting like you, priestess,” he said as he leered at her. “And when I’m done wit ya’, gonna drop you in my pot with da’ rest of the folk I took tonight.”

  11

  Back on the other side of the gateway in the haunted house, I’d already started my transformation. Although shifting was taking most of my attention, I managed to keep track of the interchange between Janice and the slenderman. And that conversation had now deteriorated into trading blows—metaphorically speaking, where Janice was concerned.

  Mètminwi had revealed himself fully, and he’d already taken a swipe or two at my date. Janice, however, had proven to be made of sterner stuff than I might have first imagined. She deftly leapt out of the way of the loa’s first strike, and managed to raise a magical barrier to block the second and subsequent blows. Her magic flashed with luminescence each time the giant slenderman’s massive fists struck the dome of arcane energy she’d erected.

  Yet I knew she couldn’t keep it up forever, as Janice was mostly mortal and could only power a spell like that for so long. Each time the loa struck the barrier it dimmed, indicating the strain placed on my date’s rapidly-depleting magical reserves. I needed to get back in the mix fast if I was going to keep her from getting squashed like a grape—and that meant focusing on finishing my transformation as quickly as possible.

  Turning my full attention back to the task at hand, I monitored my transformation, observing impatiently as my bones thickened and lengthened and my muscles swelled to thrice their normal size. During this part of the change, I gained at least a few hundred pounds of mass and almost four feet in height. By the time I reached my full height, my clothes were shredded. Except my Lycra undies. They hung off me in strips as I transformed from a normal-looking human male to a nine-and-a-half-foot-tall monster.

  But it wasn’t just my size and mass that altered when I shifted. My right arm was now much thicker and more muscular than my left, ending in a fist that resembled a mace at the end of a tree trunk. Conversely, my left hand was shaped more like a claw, an appendage better suited to ripping and tearin
g flesh than it was for smashing bones.

  In the final stages of the transformation, I developed a humped back, a protruding brow, and my left eye bulged out of its socket, right before my skin repaired and reformed where it had split to accommodate my increased size. And to ensure I was much more resilient and resistant to injury, my bones and flesh were much denser than in my human form. When all was said and done, I looked like Quasimodo’s meaner, ’roided-out older brother—and I felt like it, as well.

  Now I’m ready to rumble.

  Smacking my massive right fist into my palm, I turned my attention back to what was happening on the other side of the gate.

  “What happened to your friend, cher?” the giant boogeyman taunted. “He run off when ol’ Mètminwi show his face, eh?”

  Janice held her hands overhead, pushing with all her physical strength as well as her magical energy in an effort to maintain her shield. “Colin,” she groaned, “now would be a really good time for your friend to make an appearance.”

  Never one to pass up the opportunity to make a timely entrance, I grabbed the edges of the door frame, forcing them wider to fit my massive shoulders. It was still a tight fit, but I somehow managed it. Once I got my upper body through, I dove into a roll—just in case Mètminwi decided to close the gate on me while I still had my legs on the other side.

  As I sprang to my feet, I realized that the loa hadn’t even noticed my presence, so focused was he on raining blows down on his chosen prey. Unfortunately, Janice appeared to be on her last leg. Like a comic book heroine, the magical barrier she’d cast appeared to be winking out.

  With no time to spare, I yanked a tombstone from the ground, flinging it like a frisbee at Mètminwi’s face. It spun through the air, striking him in the mouth where it shattered against his teeth. I couldn’t be certain, but I was pretty sure the debris included at least one of his incisors. The loa stumbled back, roaring in anger as he clasped two bony, thin-fingered hands across his mouth.

  “Who dares strike Mètminwi in his own realm?” he asked. Although it came out more like, “Who zayr strife Mah-min-me in hif oven room?”

  “I zare—I mean I dare!” I roared, leaping atop a rather tall mausoleum to place me as close to eye level with the thirty-foot-tall loa as possible.

  “About time,” Janice groused as she collapsed behind a large grave marker.

  “Hey, it takes time to look this good,” I stage-whispered out the side of my mouth.

  By this time, Mètminwi had recovered. Although he was now missing a tooth and sporting a split lip, he appeared to be none the worse for the wear. The boogeyman pointed a long, thin finger at my chest, fixing me with eyes like two pools of darkness.

  “Who ith zis, zat shallenges Mah-min-me?” he lisped, whistling his words through the gap in his front teeth.

  “Say what?” I laughed, clutching my hands to my gut. “Janice, are you hearing this shit?”

  “Loud and clear,” she honk-snorted from her hiding place. “Sounds like someone’s developed a speech impediment.”

  “Whaf?” Mètminwi blinked. “Do I’fe zound funny?”

  “Like, crazy funny,” I guffawed. “You don’t hear it?”

  The loa shook his head.

  “Say ‘espresso,’” I suggested.

  “Eth-pweth-o,” he replied.

  Janice honk-snorted even louder while I howled like a hyena. “Hoo boy, that’s a fucking riot!”

  “I know, right?” Janice managed to squeal between giggle fits. “It’s like, he’s all scary as hell, then he opens his mouth, and…” She paused, snort-chuckling as she was overcome with another fit of laughter. Finally, she waved us off. “I can’t, I just can’t.”

  12

  “Thath very cruel,” the loa complained, “laughing ath thomeone’s manner of speething.”

  “Oh, lawdy,” Janice squealed, “he said ‘speething’!”

  “Thith ith humiliathing,” the loa mumbled.

  He plopped down on a mausoleum, elbows on his knees with a hangdog expression on his face. Meanwhile, Janice attempted to overcome her giggle fits, although she wisely remained hidden behind the large gravestone. I wiped my eyes and slapped my cheeks in an effort to regain some self-control and refocus on the mission.

  “Okay, okay,” I said, stifling a stray giggle. “I think I’m ready to fight you now. Go on, put ’em up.”

  “No,” Mètminwi replied. “I refuth.”

  “Whadya mean, you ‘refuth’? Need I remind you that we wouldn’t be at this juncture if you hadn’t sent your pet revenant to steal Janice’s necklace?”

  The loa gave a backhanded wave at me. “I only dith ith thoo geth Brigith’s attenthun.”

  “Wait—what?” Janice asked, suddenly perking up. “Why’d you steal Gran’s necklace again?”

  “Yeah, for real—explain yourself,” I said.

  “Thath thing? You can haf ith,” he said, reaching into his waistcoat and tossing the artifact to me. “Ith pointhleth now.”

  I checked the necklace in the magical spectrum. It was the genuine article. “Okay, slow down there, loverboy. You mean to tell me that you stole this necklace—and attacked my date—just so Maman Brigitte would pay attention to you?”

  He nodded.

  “But isn’t Maman Brigitte married to Baron Samedi?” I asked, glancing at Janice for confirmation.

  “True,” she said, “but commitment in relationships is a bit more—fluid—among the Guédé. Gran and the Baron both have been known to take multiple lovers outside their marriage. For the most part, each looks the other way when it comes to their mutual indiscretions.”

  “Juth tho,” Mètminwi interjected. “Ith geth lonely here, in my gwaythyard. Buth now, with thith lithp, she’ll never tathe me theriothly.” He began to sob, his breath whistling softly through the gap in his teeth as he did so.

  Janice stood, brushing her dress off. “Aw, sug, hush now. I’m sure we can figure something out.”

  Janice’s abrupt turnabout caused me to do a double-take. “Hang on just a minute—are you actually suggesting we help this guy?”

  “Sure, why not?” she replied with a shrug.

  “B-b-but—he eats children, Janice!”

  Mètminwi sniffled, wiping his nose with a sheet-sized hanky he’d produced from somewhere. “Oh, you thouldn’th worry abouth thath. I thopped eathing humans ages ago. Modern dieths make them too high in cholestherol. I eath Paleo now—geth my protheen from grath-fed beeth and free-range eggth.”

  “See?” Janice interjected, hands on her hips. “I told you that you didn’t understand the loa very well.”

  “Janice, you’re the one who told me how evil and scary this guy was.” I turned to Mètminwi, arms crossed. “Okay, so what about that revenant? Poor kid had his throat cut from ear to ear, for goodness sakes.”

  The loa perked up. “Huh? You mean Thylvethter? I rethcued him from an evil bokor. We’ve been thrying thoo find whereth the with doctor hid hith thoul, tho I can thend him on to the nexth life. Meanwhile he’th been working for me.”

  “Still, you attacked Janice here. I mean, you were practically trying to smash her into pulp.”

  He hitched a shoulder in a half-shrug. “I’th have juth spelled her to sleep and kepth her for ranthom unthil her Gran showth up. Janith wath never in any real danger.”

  “Ew-kaaay,” I said, taking a seat on the edge of the mausoleum. “So, giant slenderman here ain’t evil. Instead, he rescues murdered kids, eats only sustainably-raised meat, watches his HDL numbers—”

  “LDL is the bad cholesterol,” Janice said.

  “Whatever. And he has a crush on your Gran.”

  “Thath abouth thums ith up,” Mètminwi said.

  “And you want to help him, after he stole your Gran’s thingamajig and attacked you?” Janice nodded, eyeing Mètminwi with a look of sympathy. “Janice, can I speak with you a moment—in private?”

  I walked her to the gateway, where we huddled together as we spok
e.

  “You for real about this?” I asked.

  “Look, Colin, I grew up around the loa. Sure, they’re a little twisted, and some of them are way creepy when you compare them to gods from other pantheons. But I see them as people, just like you and me. Besides, the Baron has been more or less ignoring Gran lately. She could use a suitor to cheer her up.”

  I tilted my head at Mètminwi. “Him? Seriously? I mean, don’t tell her I said so, but your Gran is hot. Seems like a mismatch to me.”

  “Meh, she has unique tastes. And she likes tall men.”

  I scratched my head. “Well, you got me there. Hell, now I feel bad that I knocked his tooth out.”

  “Don’t. He took this whole thing a bit too far, so maybe it’s good you brought him down a notch.”

  “So, how’re we going to fix his lisp?”

  “Well, Gran’s half-brother Dian Cécht owes her a favor. Once I tell her what happened, she’ll be all over getting Uncle Dian to make a new tooth for Mètminwi—on the DL, of course.” She glanced over at the loa. “Poor guy’s had enough blows to his ego as it is.”

  “Hmm… I prefer to keep my distance from the Celtic gods, so I’ll let you handle all that. So long as you’re sure it’s safe, that is.”

  She looked up at me with a twinkle in her eye. “Aw, that’s sweet.”

  “Ahem,” I said, glancing around nervously. “We still have to explain to your Gran about why we missed the ball. She’s gonna think I stood you up.”

  “Nah, don’t worry about her. I’ll just tell her what happened—”

  “Oh, heck no—she’ll kill me!”

  Janice snort-laughed. “Relax, I’m kidding. But since this date got ruined, I fully expect you to follow up with another.” She gave a sly wink. “And if not, well—I might just let slip how you left me to deal with Mètminwi in his own realm.”

  “Only for a minute!” I protested with mock indignation in my voice.

  Janice shrugged, smiling.

  “So, blackmail it is, eh?” I laughed. “It’s a deal, then—although I can’t promise how soon it’ll be. My life’s a little, er, crazy right now.”