I teleported away without giving either of them a chance to say anything. They were too smart for me to fool and I sucked too much at lying to make them believe me. I needed to find Rala.
Rather than poof back to headquarters, I returned to the building in Old Town where Rala and Vol, her blind and creepy mentor, had been taken to by Veronica to keep them out of sight during all the recent DSI bullshit. Limited in where she could go—she looked like a zebra high on Halloween, for Satan’s sake—and even more limited by what she knew about our world, so if she was hiding out, that was the most likely place she’d be.
I had to be sure, my thoughts running away from me.
Back at the building, I stepped inside, noticing the door wasn’t locked, or even pulled all the way shut. That made me nervous so I let my senses loose, looking for anything that told me she and Vol were there and no one else was. Only the old man rang back, his essence a beacon in the gloom that was the lifeless building. I made my way toward him and groaned as I realized where he’d ended up. He was in the very last place I wanted to be right then.
The room where I’d killed Veronica.
I stood at the closed door for several minutes, my hands unwilling to turn the knob, before I convinced myself I had to go inside. Time was ticking by and, if I was right, Rala was in danger and didn’t have any time to waste. That thought spurring me on, I opened the door and went in. Vol’s milky eyes met me coming. And so did the rank funk of death.
I don’t know which bothered me more.
Vol looked like he always did, only more pissed to not-see me. He wore plain brown robes that hung to his ankles and nothing else. At least nowadays the outfit was new and didn’t show off his hanging jingleberries like the one he wore when I first met him. Thank Starbucks for small miracles.
That said, he didn’t look happy. I guess wouldn’t be either if I were stuck in a room with a rotting corpse. With that thought burrowing in my skull, I drew in a deep breath and tore my eyes from Vol and planted them firmly on Veronica. It used to be easier; you know, before I shot her in her head and drained the last of her essence in a soul transfer.
She looked just like I expected her to. Dead.
For all her power, death had already started to claim her body. Her once beautiful face was sallow, the skin sagging from her cheekbones and hanging like jowls along her jaw. Her lips were a shade of black that might have looked good on her had she not been so damn gray. Her eyes had been closed and I sighed at that, grateful to avoid the recriminating stare she would have had for me. Her arms hung limply at her sides where even the festive colors of her tattoos had gone mute.
“Shadowman,” Vol said, drawing my attention to him, the stripes at his nose crunching in to show his displeasure. “You choose now to arrive, to bring your foul taint where you are least wanted?”
“My taint is just fine, thank you. I showered this morning. Though I will admit it will be rank enough by the end of the day to make the Swamp Thing tap out.” I joked, but there was no humor that would settle the sour knot bubbling in my gut at seeing Veronica splayed out as she was.
The fuzzy kittens that were Vol’s eyebrows rose, conveying as much confusion as a blind man was capable of.
“Never mind,” I told him. “Where’s Rala?”
He chuckled but there was no humor in, the flicker of a sad smile bending his lips. “She has gone.”
“Gone where?”
Vol shrugged. “I have nothing to say to you, demon. The clouds gather around you, drawing the storms, cruel barbs of lightning readying to crash down upon—”
“For someone with nothing to say, you sure are going on about,” I said, cutting him off. “Just tell me where Rala is and we can be rid of each other, old man.”
His expression faltered. Gone was the righteous indignation he loved to hurl at me. In its place was something I could only guess to be sorrow.
His words confirmed it for me. “I awoke to find her gone…missing, cycles back.” He gestured to Veronica’s body. “I had hoped to find her here, where she often comes but…”
She’d been gone for days. Shit.
“She didn’t tell you anything?”
“No.” He shook his head. “She told me nothing.” The words sounded like old wood, creaking and groaning as they spilled from his mouth.
I growled under my breath. That wasn’t normal. While Rala would play the rebellious teen with me—and that was exactly what she was, alien or otherwise—she would never leave Vol without telling him where she’d gone and when he could expect her back. As far as family went, all they had on this world was each other. Well, since I murdered Veronica, that is.
I pulled my phone from my pocket and hit the speed dial. Alexander Poe came up on the other end a few rings later.
“Yes, Mister Trigg?”
Poe, I need a few things brought to my location ASAP. Can you pinpoint me?”
“Indeed,” he answered. “What is it your need?”
“First, get a dozen armed and armored grunts down here. I’ve got someone I need them to look after.” I cast a glance Vol’s way, seeing the hollowness of his cheeks. “Bring some food, and some booze, too. Some blankets and pillows.”
“Both are on their way. Is there anything I need to know?”
I stepped toward the door and out into the hallway, lowering my voice to keep Vol from hearing me. “Rala is missing and her mentor is here alone. I can’t guarantee she’s been taken, but the kid isn’t in the habit of running off on the old goat. She’s been gone for a couple days, at least. Old guy looks like he hasn’t eaten since then either.”
Poe’s sigh drifted across the line. “We’ll make sure he’s taken care of. You clearly want him to remain where he is, as well, correct?”
I nodded, only realizing he couldn’t see me. “Yeah, I want someone friendly here in case she comes back and all this is just a big misunderstanding.”
“Understood. The men are readying to—” A rush of voices erupted in the background and I heard the scrape of Poe’s chin across the mouthpiece as he moved it away to mutter something I couldn’t understand. Thud cursed in the background.
“What’s going on?”
Poe came back on the line. “Our building is being assailed. I need you to come now!” The line went dead, and I groaned.
“Just once I’d like to hear Rosario Dawson tell me that.”
Seven
I teleported into a war zone and stumbled as the room juddered around me.
It took a couple of seconds to realize it was the floor shaking and I wasn’t having some kind of seizure. A muffled boom sounded somewhere below, in the belly of the building, and the room swayed even more aggressively, sending me careening into the giant conference table. I sunk my fingers into the tabletop, puncturing holes in the wood to retain my balance, my gaze going unconsciously to the beautiful sheen, marred with spreading cracks. I gulped. Just like that, I’d caused triple a teacher’s salary in damage, but I was okay. That was what mattered, wasn’t it?
That’s when I truly felt like a government employee, destroying tax-funded property that I’d never have to worry about explaining why or paying to repair. The sudden urge to run for office welled up in me, but I pushed it aside. No one would back a loudmouthed, arrogant buffoon with questionable morals and an addiction to sex for the sacred office of the president, right?
Bursts of machine gun fire sounded in the hallway and the crisp bark of someone shouting orders broke through the pauses. The sound drew me out and I bolted from the conference room and met the rest of the team, huddled low and gearing up. DSI agents had shattered one of the giant windows and were lined up, spraying the rooftop of the building across the way with lead. Black smoke billowed up around them, filling the hall with an acrid tinge that seared my nostrils.
“What the hell is going on?” I asked, directing my question to Poe so I didn’t have to compete with the chaos.
He opened a mental link between us, his voice borin
g into my head. “An unknown number of militants have encircled the building, firing rocket-propelled grenades at us. Security has set up a perimeter to protect the staff.”
Bullets thumped a trail across the ceiling, raking our direction, forcing everyone down. One of the agents spasmed under the barrage and toppled out the window, disappearing from sight. A second screamed and crumpled to the ground, spatters of blood covering his chest, ragged holes torn in his Kevlar. The attackers were playing for keeps.
“Fuck this.” I pushed passed the team and stomped toward the broken window, a shield welling at my fingertips. “Take the fight to them.”
There’d been a lull in the gun and missile fire I didn’t notice until it was too late. At the window, I yanked a soldier out of the way by his collar and stepped into his place, my plan to cover the entire opening with a shield. Something crashed into me before I finished, knocking me back.
It was short and furry and smelled like the best parts of wet dog and roadkill. The worst part was, I might have dated it at some point.
It went to bite me and I shoved my forearm in its mouth, willing a shield tight about my arm right before it chomped down. Teeth shattered, yellowed fragments exploding in every direction, and blood drizzled across my arm, peppering my face with tangy wetness. The thing—a were-badger, I think, but don’t quote me on it—howled and reared back but I wasn’t done with it. Hooked spikes sprang from my shield and sunk into the critter’s soft gums and palette, latching it to my arm. I got to my feet, dragging it along as it shrieked. I shut it up by slamming it into the wall head first. Its skull cracked open like a rancid cantaloupe and I let its oozing corpse fall to the ground.
Unfortunately, it hadn’t come alone.
The first wave of were-creatures that had burst through the window had taken the soldiers by surprise. In close with a handful of weres of various species, the men didn’t stand a chance. Limbs were flying, blood and gore painting the floor and walls an ugly shade of death, the soldiers going down in ravaged heaps.
I felt bad for the guys but they did their duty as front line grunts, blunting the initial wave of the attack so the rest of us could make ready.
Kit snapped off a shot, the sound deafening in the tight hallway, and blew one of the were-critters’ heads off, sending his corpse cartwheeling backward and out through the window. He’d make a lovely mess on the ground below.
Grace started forward but Thud beat her to it. He charged, all rage and gorilla grace, stomping straight at the invaders. He met two advancing and grabbed them by their faces as if they were fleshy bowling balls, two fingers sinking into their eyes and his thumb hooking their mouths. Then he slammed their skulls into each other with a feral grunt. It was if he’d jammed two pieces of toast with strawberry jam together with a sledgehammer. Bits and pieces of blood, bone, and brain spewed out from between his sausage fingers and coated the weres unlucky enough to be standing in front of him.
They stumbled to a halt and Poe and Grace rewarded their stupidity. The sharp edge of Grace’s kusarigama thumped into the face of the first and she dragged him to the ground, ripping the blade free and taking half the were’s face with it. The thing shrieked and thrashed about until she clubbed its head in.
Poe went old school and put a bullet in the head of the last were, using one of my old .45s that Baalth had taken from me. The attack lacked the finesse of the rest of the team, but that didn’t make the were any less dead. A third eye sprouted at its forehead and the back of its head blew out to join the mess littering the hallway.
I stomped over to the window, ready to repel more of the weres but Poe chimed up behind me.
“They’re retreating.”
“What?” Grace asked, growling and stomping over alongside me. She stared out the window at the empty roof across the way. “Why would they do that so soon?”
“Because they got their asses kicked.” Thud chuckled and gestured to the bodies steaming about the floor. “Would you keep fighting if you saw this?”
Kit came over, scanning the rooftops with her boomstick, a high-tech scope set across the top of it. “No, but these guys certainly are. They’re gone.”
“And we were just getting started, too,” Thud whined.
“You can abuse your pets later,” I told him.
While I was more than happy to have the weres tucking tail and running, something didn’t feel right about it all. It was just like at the café when… “Shit!” I spun to Poe. “Reach out to the other DSI locations and—”
He raised a hand to cut me off, his leathern face scrunched in a way that was unflattering. “It was a distraction. Maximus’s building has been bombed.”
“He survive?”
Poe nodded.
“That’s a shame,” Grace muttered under her breath, and I couldn’t bring myself to disagree. Pretty much everyone except Poe nodded agreement with their eyes.
“At least now we know what Shaw is using the money for.” I sighed and turned to Grace. “See to the rest of the staff in the building and get them someplace safer than this.” It’s not like we could stash them at a safe house or some off the books hideout seeing how Shaw knew the locations of all of those. The best we could do was have the staff hunker down and hope Shaw couldn’t afford to keep hitting us. “Keep everyone with you so I don’t have to worry about you all, too.”
“Awww, he does care,” Thud said, reaching over to pinch my cheek.
I smacked his hand aside. “Touch me again and I’ll be the last dick you put your hand on.”
Thud chuckled. “So sensitive, Frankie.”
My cheeks nearly boiled over at the mutated use of my name, but I managed to rein my fury in just enough to not clock him. Memories of Karra sprang to life unbidden. She was the only person to call me Frankie and hearing it spill from Thud’s lips made me sick and sad all in one devastating blow.
Rather than dwell on it, I went back to work. “Keep your heads down, folks, and stay in touch. I’ll be back soon.” I glanced over at Poe. “Got an address for the boss man?”
He nodded and sent it over telepathically. As soon as I had it, I teleported.
Right into a pile of debris and ruin that rivaled Nagasaki.
Shaw hadn’t just leveled the building Maximus had been in, but damn near half the neighborhood. Walking wounded stumbled back and forth through the rubble, firefighters and cops and EMTs flitting about, doing their best to stabilize those who had a chance at making it through and comforting those who were already dead but just didn’t know it yet.
My stomach soured at seeing the devastation. It was everywhere, moans of pain and the wails of the lost filled the air with a somber dirge. Shaw hadn’t pulled her punches here. This was some serious Mike Tyson shit, haymakers flying and putting down everything they touched. It was all too much.
I started over to help the first responders when Maximus’s growl drew me up short.
“Why isn’t she dead yet?” He stomped over, planting his feet right in front of me, and I just stared. He didn’t have a scratch on him. His suit and tie and even his shoes were immaculate. Shit, even his hair looked as if he’d just finished a photo shoot for Asshole Executives Quarterly. Everyone around him looked as if they were extras in Saving Private Ryan, but not him. “I asked you a question, Triggaltheron!”
Known for my patience and even temperament, I don’t know why I snatched him up by his pretty little suit and rag dolled him to the floor. He hit with a thud, gray dust billowing up around him. Wide blue eyes stared at me, narrowing into tiny slits after his surprise subsided, his fists clenched as he hopped back to his feet, looking like nothing had happened. He sure could take a hit though.
I glared at him for a second, wondering if maybe I’d misread him and he wasn’t as human as I’d thought.
“I’ll have you killed for that!” he screeched.
Despite it all, I couldn’t let him punk me. I drew up in front of him, getting in his face. “You won’t do a good God damn thi
ng, Maximus,” I told him, sneering. “As much as you want to play puppet master with the rest of the DSI clowns, I’m here of my own free will. You might be able to make my life miserable, but do not, for even one second, doubt that I can’t do the same to you.” I tapped him in the chest and sent him stumbling back a dozen paces. “I am the new lord of Hell, Satan incarnate, and you damn well don’t want to go to war with me.” Of course, I was mostly bluffing, but he didn’t know that. Lucifer’s memories coursed through me, backing my play with the old man’s bravado.
Maximus stood his ground. Dude had balls.
“Shaw clearly has it out for you, and you alone, otherwise we wouldn’t be standing here in the ruin of your office, now would we? She hit us at headquarters but it was a jab, tying us up just long enough for her to get at you,” I said, making sure he understood his position. “I could just as easily put a hook in your ass and use you as bait for Shaw. Much as I hate the woman, I could work with her long enough to get from her the same things I’m using you for.” I closed the distance between us. “Keep that in mind.”
Maximus straightened and dusted his suit jacket off, only meeting my gaze when he was done, his one last gasp at defiance.
“You presume I’m alone, Triggaltheron, that I’m the pinnacle of the mountain you struggle to climb. But rest assured, I am but the mouthpiece of the organization you know as the DSI, the scout leading the way. My masters are death incarnate and it would behoove you to mind your place in the grand scheme of things.”
Or maybe not.
“Threaten me again and you will not live to regret your insolence.”
We glared at each other for a long few moments, the world around us a soundtrack of misery and woe. I didn’t know if he was calling my bluff or just plain delusional, but he made a convincing case for me to step back and try a different tack. With all the deities popping loose of the Interstice, there was no way of knowing if he was telling the truth or not. For Mike’s sake, and that of DRAC and Abigail, I felt it best to ease off the accelerator a bit.
Institutionalized (Demon Squad Book 10) Page 7
