But nothing is ever as simple as all that, is it?
Especially not when monsters are involved.
I’ll never know how, but I made it as far as the inside of the elevator with the impossible dog. In the elevator, the mirrors reflected it more clearly than the hallway mirror. But when I pulled out my phone to update Marty, it happened.
13
The doors opened. On the other side stood frat boy-man from the airport. His jaw dropped, and I might have said something as eloquent as “hey” before he turned and ran.
Predators chase.
In the elevator mirrors, the hulking dog reflection leapt from the elevator, jaws open to reveal long, shining teeth, toward the man running across the busy, white marble lobby. People dodged the man, some falling as the unseen beast plowed through the crowd. A woman tumbled down the few stairs by the front door, her partner reaching out to catch her. The doorman conveniently opened the door, and frat boy-man and his invisible pursuer spilled out onto Royal Street.
“What’s happening?” Marty asked through my Bluetooth earpiece before I could say anything.
Darting through the crowd, I gave the short explanation. “I found the dog, and it’s chasing the guy from the airport.”
“From the airport? Are you sure?”
“Same clothes, same face.”
“In our hotel?”
“The one and only.” I raced between two tourists into the center of the road, looking in both directions, seeing nothing. With a string of inventive curses, I stepped onto the sidewalk. “I’ve lost them.”
“Why was it chasing him?”
“He ran. Predator drive. I had the dog in the elevator, the doors opened, and as soon as the guy took off, it chased.” A couple of tourists stared at me as they passed. “It’s more wild than domesticated.”
“Then how did you get it to follow you?”
“Dumb luck,” I said, scanning the ground for scorch-mark footprints, one finger pressing my Bluetooth headset into my ear as a truck rumbled by. “Can you access traffic cams or something and see if you can find him?”
“Working on it, but these don’t have the same capacity as my computers at home.” Usually his first complaint contained mutters about the dubious legality of the request. Maybe the surprise had him off guard. Or maybe, the vacation effect.
A thin stream of smoke rose from a dark spot on the road. I leaned over it into the smell of burnt oil and hot tar, and ran down the street.
“What happened?”
“Found evidence. Still trying to track them.”
“I’m not finding anything on the cams. Either they’re avoiding them—”
“It won’t be a ‘them.’” I explained the mirrors as quickly as possible.
“But supernats shouldn’t appear in silver-backed mirrors.”
“Shouldn’t, but this one does.” I skidded to a halt, trying to listen beyond the traffic and music and the pulse of humanity already throbbing on Bourbon Street. Though the party never really stopped, dusk called revelers to Bourbon, the bars, and music. The air thrummed with the sound. I closed my eyes and tried to listen to everything under it.
“Got something. Corner of Bourbon and St. Louis. There’s a gated alley across from the burger bar. There’s some kind of altercation.”
I ran, panting as I asked, “You think it’s them?”
“Can’t tell for sure, but people are running. It’s something.”
Tourists in various states of inebriation crowded the streets, but I ran around them, ignoring laughter, insults, and complaints about spilled drinks. I turned the corner, hearing the screaming man before I saw the ring of swaying drunks watching the man curled at the foot of the gate.
Someone yelled to call 9-1-1 as I approached the crying, yelling ball of frat boy-man in smoking clothes. Black spots the size of my palm smoldered around him.
“What the fuck do I do, Marty?”
The man screamed as a blood-stained rip appeared in his polo shirt.
“Working on it.”
“Work faster.” I stepped closer, the wire-scrape of bristling fur brushing my pant leg.
“Can you get its attention?”
I stepped back, the animal’s snort turning my Docs into a leather oven. “Yeah, I think I got that.” Backpedaling a couple of steps, the heat followed with the reek of sulfur. Hot air puffed in what might have been curious sniffs and investigative snorts. “Send someone out to handle this mess and give me directions to Helen’s.” Her place wasn’t far, but if I had to focus on keeping the Black Dog’s attention and navigating the crowd, I’d never see street signs.
“On it,” Marty said.
“Miss Kelley.” I recognized the voice behind me, but not as one I could easily place.
“Little busy here,” I said, backing up, eyes on the soft black spots that appeared in the tarmac patches on the road in front of me.
“Agent Hardin.”
“Not a good time.” Ignoring more angry complaints as I walked into pedestrians, I hurried back a couple of quick steps, hoping the crowd would part around me. “Marty, why the hell can’t I see this thing?”
“It’s the protections, Miss Kelley,” Agent Hardin said, a few feet away, bookending the empty space between us. His closed hands pointed at the ground, and I caught the glint of metal. “It’s enchanted to avoid causing a panic.”
“And you know this how?”
“Because we enchanted it.”
I looked up at him, taking another step back. “We who?”
“DEMON.”
Great. Not only did I have to figure out how guide the dog to Helen, now I’d probably have to convince a government agency that didn’t exist to release it to her. No one ever told me that double-dipping into the Church and federal government could be such a pain in the ass. Or maybe someone had and I hadn’t listened. Either way, I regretted agreeing to serve both. That whole separation of Church and state thing made a lot of sense.
“I’ve got a job to do, Agent Hardin, and I can’t let you interfere.”
“I’m not trying to,” he said, flashing a small mirror at the space between us. The stretch of road between us didn’t exist in the reflection. Instead, a whole lot of wire-bristled dog took its place. Only dark fur reflected in the mirrored compact. This had to be the biggest damned dog I’d ever seen. Or not seen. “I’ve been trying to figure out why it’s stalking you.”
“Stalking me? Don’t you mean why it was mauling that guy?”
“Seriously, can you guys talk about this later?” Marty interrupted. “Get this thing off Bourbon, deliver it to Helen, and then you can chit chat about anything you want.”
I ignored him. Keeping the interest of a predator meant becoming prey. Predators chase.
I knew what I had to do.
“The monster,” Agent Hardin said, unaware of Marty’s protests.
Looking where the Black Dog’s eyes must have been, I imagined looking straight in them, offering challenge.
It answered with a growl.
Good. We spoke the same language.
“I hate being right,” I muttered as Marty yammered in my ear about public safety. “Now isn’t the time, Agent Hardin. I’m thinking I’m going to run this thing back.”
“No!” Never had I heard real panic in a federal agent’s voice. Especially not one with DEMON. “Don’t run. You run, and it will attack.”
Marty rattled off directions without reacting to my plan. He understood. Maybe, he even agreed. It required a volunteer. An act of faith. My guts unclenched.
I glanced up to check the street names as we reached the corner, ready to offer up my faith that I’d make it to Helen unscathed. Ready to offer myself as the sacrifice if it meant saving the revelers between Bourbon and her front door.
Predators chase, so I volunteered to run.
“That’s what I’m hoping for, Agent Hardin.” I registered his surprise before I turned and ran.
Growling followed. Heat burn
ed the back of my neck, and I suspected the burning hair I smelled was mine. My Docs clomped the street as I ran hard, dodging more people than cars, the dog snapping at my heels. I tried not to imagine what would happen if I ran into a car.
With a jolt and clatter of metal, the straps of my backpack yanked my shoulders back, and I leaned forward, keeping my feet as the dog tried to shake me from side to side. The fabric groaned and stitches popped, but I ran faster, the weight of the bag still bouncing at my back. “Marty, call Helen. Tell her I’m running, and this dog’s coming for me. She needs to be ready.”
“What do you mean coming for you?”
“I mean…” I panted and swung around a corner, narrowly avoiding collision with a crowd of females wearing tiaras, bright pink sashes, and raising plastic penis-shaped yard glasses in the midst of some shrill cheer. They screamed and stumbled back against the wall. “It snapped at me. We’re a little beyond playing.”
A man yelled at me in some language I didn’t understand as he stood over the wreckage of a spilled paper bag. He fell over as a thick shadow passed over him, the dog flickering as it shoved past him and chased me.
“I lost you. Where’d you go?”
“Nowhere, just where you told me.”
“Can’t see you.”
“Hurry up because if it’s not chasing me, it’ll turn on someone else.” Looking for motion to distract the dog, I turned and ran again, seeing the bricked up dead end too late to pivot. Of course.
“Working on your location.”
“Nice doggy,” I said, taking one slow step backward, trying to turn. The dog flickered into view for a second, a solid shadow with glowing eyes.
“You’re in the shit again, aren’t you?”
“Something like that. How long until you’ve got eyes on me?” The sound of people talking drew closer.
The red eyes flared, the dog appearing solid again, bared teeth stark white against its black, smoking fur.
Definitely a hellhound.
“I’m going to need a route out of here with as few bystanders in the way as possible. Invisibility is no longer our friend.”
“What do you mean?”
“Not the time for questions, bud. Just get me out of here.”
“Working on it.”
The Black Dog growled again, advancing, its fur rising in wiry spikes on its back. “Time is of the essence,” I said, trying to control my own fear. One false move, and my ass would be high-quality dog chow.
“It takes time, you know. This isn’t CSI or some crap TV show, you know.”
“Literally up against a wall here, bud.” My shoulders hit the wall, and I slid along it.
“Holy shit, what is that?” He actually squeaked. Were I not in mortal danger, I’d have laughed.
“Glad to know you’re tapped in.”
“What the hell is it, Cee?”
“Looks like a dog, growls like a dog. For now, I’m saying a dog. We’ll deal with the details later. How about you help me get this to Helen’s? And with as few distractions as possible.”
“Right.” His keyboard clacked like gunfire. “I don’t know how the hell you get yourself into this shit.”
“It’s all part of saving the world, yo. Or at least New Orleans.”
He gave directions, and I slid along the wall until I turned the dog enough to run again. I sprinted. My breath burned hot in my lungs as I pushed harder, the snap of jaws behind me. This was a bad idea. “Tell her to get that damned door open.”
Some bystander screamed, but I didn’t stop to look. Just taking my dog for a run, I thought, a giggle breaking loose despite my inability to breathe as I forced myself to outpace the beast.
“Marty,” I panted, a hot stitch burning in my side, “next time I have a shitty idea, remind me of this, okay?”
“Noted. And I’ll remind you that you told me to do it.”
“Fair enough.”
I turned the last corner as Marty directed. Guillaume stood in the middle of the street, elegant and almost regal in his suit. With one final push, I ran, and he stepped aside as Fenrir appeared in the street. I swore with what little breath I had and made an ungraceful turn toward the door where Guillaume stood. The massive beast of a dog rushed past me to collide in a snarling tangle with Fenrir, still muzzled with the pink, shimmery ribbon. The two wrestled, biting, snarling, and tumbling in a pile of black and dark mottled fur, Fenrir’s ribbon tangled around both of them. Though smoke rose from it, it didn’t burn or blacken.
I collapsed against the wall and looked up at the butler who regarded me without expression. “Now what?”
He shrugged and smiled. “We wait for Master Fenrir to get things under control.”
“What the hell were you thinking running like that? Especially after I told you not to?” Agent Hardin slowed to a stop in front of me, neither sweaty nor out of breath in his full suit. I didn’t know whether to be ashamed of my state or to accuse him of some kind of magical intervention.
I laughed, bent over, my hands on my knees. “Agent Hardin, I do a lot of things I’m not supposed to, especially when I’m told not to.”
“That’s the damned truth,” Marty said in my ear.
I ignored him.
Agent Hardin drew his Glock and stepped toward the snarling mass of animal flesh writhing in the street as they wound themselves in the shimmering ribbon. “We’ve got to get this under control.”
The butler placed his hand on Hardin’s weapon, pointing the barrel to the ground. “Master Fenrir will handle it.”
There are times I regret not having my phone out like some tourist. This was one. Agent Hardin’s astonishment made me giggle, though I tried to hide it behind attempts to catch my breath.
“Agent Hardin, with all due respect,” Guillaume said, his hand still on the agent’s gun, “this really isn’t the place for you. It’s under control.”
“Actually, this is exactly where I need to be.” He jerked his weapon away, keeping it pointed at the ground as he circled the noisy animal battle that seemed to be winding down.
I rolled my eyes.
Fenrir hovered over his captive, jaws locked around the black void below the other dog’s bared white teeth. The Black Dog’s red eyes rolled in panic, only the outermost edges showing white as it looked for escape. The ground shook with the growling of both animals. One problem down. One more to go. “Marty, what about the guy at St. Louis and Bourbon?”
“Ambulance picked him up, but NOLA PD’s en route to take over.” Marty’s fingers rattled the laptop’s keyboard. I imagined his tablets fanned out around him, all displaying something different.
“He’s not a person,” Agent Hardin said. “He’s a monster. One we’d been tracking, and lost, before your handler reported him.”
Fenrir’s body dropped as he flattened himself over the Black Dog. Both animals stopped growling, but the tension persisted as Fenrir’s muscles twitched. He waited for submission. It would come. His muscles tensed and released in short pulses, not letting his guard down, but showing willingness to relent.
“Yeah, I got that.” My shoulders relaxed as I watched. The alpha had control, which meant I was off the job. There was some kind of frou-frou-la-la drink in my future tonight. “You’re welcome for that, by the way.”
“For what?”
“That he’s in custody. Might have been driven by accident, but I’m still counting it as an assist.” I grinned at him, but he just stared back in confusion. “Let me know what he is sometime next week. Late next week. As of now, I’m on vacation.” I gestured to the pile of beasts between us. “Since we’re done here, I’m going back to my hotel to shower, change,” I plucked at my torn tank top, “and drink something with a lot of alcohol in it.”
“Done? No, Miss Kelley, you don’t understand. We need your help with the monster we captured tonight.”
Some people just didn’t get the hint.
Guillaume, the butler, approached, then pressed a finger against h
is ear and turned away from us.
“No, Agent Hardin, you don’t understand. I’m on vacation.” I gestured to the calm, quiet pile of wolf-dog and hellhound at my feet. As I watched, the Black Dog disappeared, leaving nothing but a void under Fenrir. Intense heat radiated off the “empty” space, and I looked up at the agent. “Your doing?”
He ignored me. “Miss Kelley.”
Never before had I considered changing my name. The more I wanted to disappear into a pool and a frozen hurricane for a week or so, the more everyone used it.
Instead of acknowledging the agent, I turned to Helen as she glided out her front door, ethereal in the low evening light. I gestured to Fenrir and his invisible subordinate. “I’ve returned the Black Dog to you.”
With a smirk, she asked, “Have you? He’s not exactly as I anticipated.”
“Huh? Oh, the invisible thing?” I jerked my thumb at Agent Hardin. “I had nothing to do with that.”
“It was for the protection of the populous before word got out and caused a city-wide panic, Miss Lokison. Of course, it made him harder to find.” He pulled out a small mirror and angled it where Fenrir’s head hovered over empty space. In the reflection, two glowing eyes burned.
“Lokison?” Marty asked in my ear. “She’s not even hiding it.”
“You know each other?” I asked Agent Hardin, raising an eyebrow.
Her blond swoop of hair half-hid Helen’s regal smile. Everything about her seemed to glow as the prickle of energy ran over my arms. “All available resources were employed, Miss Kelley.” She gestured with her right hand, the left hidden in her over-long sleeve. “Nothing was more important than having him returned.”
“And, of course, the federal government has a vested interest in keeping New Orleans safe,” he glanced at Helen, “and economically stable.”
A New Templars Page 10
