Hounacier (Valducan Book 2)

by Seth Skorkowsky

  Matt Hollis, while still unqualified to fill a Team Leader rank, should be considered as Arms Master. While Luiza currently serves that position, and may choose to continue it if she declines promotion, Matt is a superior candidate. Not only is Matt's knowledge of weapons considerable, his abilities as a New World hunter are beyond compare. Having seen him operate alone in the field, I believe he would be an exceptional teacher for not only New World hunters, but all Valducans, since our ranks have been so reduced. Because of personal history, I suspect he would be more amenable to such a promotion if he were not told that I recommended him for it.

  Thank you all for the opportunity to have served as a Team Leader. I hope nothing but the best for you and for the Order.

  Sincerely,

  Sir Malcolm Romero, PhD

  Chapter Twenty-One

  "Wise one, patient one, Papa Legba take my gift and help me find the way." Malcolm kissed the needle and worked the final stitch into the red leather. He looked at the little photograph of a big-eared kid named Troy Miller, repeated the prayer, and tied off the white thread.

  Tasha's laugh carried in through the door as Matt shared one of his many stories. With their mutual interests in movies and antiques, the two of them got along wonderfully, which made Malcolm a little nervous. He didn't know why it should, but it did, and that made him even more nervous. So he tried not to think about it.

  He set the gris-gris to the side and blew out the six candles. Rising from his desk, Malcolm eyed the growing stack of pictures and little baggies of personal items for more gris-gris. After Rochelle Duplessis' prompt and generous promotion, he had become very popular, especially with police, who he readily accepted.

  Malcolm stepped out of the office, now quickly filling with candle smoke. The smell of coffee helped mask the lingering odor of new paint and carpet.

  Tasha smiled from the kitchen table, still chuckling at whatever Matt was saying. "Morning."

  "Morning." He walked in and gave her a kiss. "You leave any coffee for me?"

  "Just made a fresh pot," Matt said.

  "Perfect." Malcolm noted the two suitcases in the corner beside Matt, one a blue hard-side meant to carry the obsidian mask. "All packed up?"

  Matt nodded. "Yup."

  Malcolm poured his coffee and opened the fridge. An array of mismatched dishes, their contents and makers scrawled across their foil and plastic wrap coverings, filled the shelves. Neighbors and prospective clients, hoping to make a good impression and welcome him, had provided the near endless bounty. He scoured the selection, hoping to find at least something he wasn't tired of or at least remotely in the mood for. Malcolm sighed and closed the door.

  The coffeemaker's green clock read, 7:26.

  "What time do we need to get you to your ship?" he asked.

  "They said eleven," Matt said

  "Then let's take you out. Get some breakfast, couple drinks."

  "Tired of casserole?"

  "No," Malcolm said, an unintentional defensiveness in his voice. "It's just it'll still be here this evening, and tomorrow, but you won't. Let's go out."

  "I'm down," Tasha said.

  Matt nodded. "Sure."

  "Perfect," Malcolm said. "Let me just get some—"

  A knock came from the door.

  Tasha gave a wide "Every Single Time" smile and gestured toward it.

  Expecting a new well-wisher or client, Malcolm crossed the little living room, drew a breath, smiled, then opened the door.

  Earl Warren, dressed in a blue suit, beamed at him. "Morning, Malcolm."

  "Good morning. Come on in, Earl."

  "Hi, Earl," Tasha called from the table.

  "Morning. I can't stay for too long," he said, stepping inside. "I have a showing down the street and figured I'd drop by, see how things were coming." Earl looked around with an approving nod. His gaze lingered for a moment on the obsidian mask on the facing wall. "Like what you've done. Tasha, you've done a good job."

  "Why does everyone think it's her?" Malcolm asked, following him into the kitchen. "I'm the one that lives here."

  The priest smiled knowingly. "My mistake."

  "No, it wasn't," Tasha said.

  "I didn't think it was." He bent and gave her a hug. "And how are you, Mister Hollis?"

  "Fine. You?"

  "Can't complain." Earl nodded to the suitcases. "So you leaving us?"

  "Yeah," Matt said. "I need to get back home."

  "I understand. Well, it was a pleasure to meet you." Earl scratched his cheek. "The other reason I dropped by, Mal, is we're having a little barbeque picnic next Saturday. The church's third anniversary. And I wanted to extend an invitation to both of you."

  "Well, thank you. Sure."

  Earl smiled. "Perfect. Maggie will be there, of course, and if you don't mind, I'd ask that you not mention it to Jim until after I've given him the invite myself."

  "Of course," Malcolm said. "How is, um, Gary working out for you?"

  "Gary? He's doing fine. I got him working on some odd jobs around the church. Couple of the members have been finding other work for him."

  "Good. Anything…unusual?"

  "Nothing that I've noticed. He'll be at the picnic too. You can see for yourself." Earl checked his watch. "Anyway, I just wanted to drop in, see how you were, and pass the invitation along."

  "Well, thank you," Tasha said. "Let us know what we need to bring. And good luck at your showing."

  "Appreciate it." he shook Matt hand. "Take care, Mister Hollis."

  "You too."

  Malcolm led Earl back to the door. "I'll see you next Saturday."

  "Have a good day."

  Malcolm shut the door and walked back into the kitchen, where Matt was grinning like a school boy who knew the principal's fly was down. "What?"

  "Picnics?"

  "Don't be jealous."

  Matt chuckled. "I just wouldn't have believed it."

  "He's just making nice," Tasha said. "Very sweet of him to extend the offer."

  Matt shrugged. "If you get too soft, I'm going to shoot you again."

  Malcolm snorted. "You got too much enjoyment out of that."

  "So much that I did it twice." He gave a little smile.

  "Well, don't worry. I think I'm going to be plenty busy. Now, come on. Let's get some breakfast and get you home to Luiza."

  Want more of the Valducan Series? Keep reading for an excerpt from Ibenus.

  Ibenus Excerpt

  A loud thump sounded upstairs, like a ram hitting a door. James' light shot to the ceiling, finding nothing but cobwebs.

  Another baby cry sounded. Distant. Terrified.

  "Come on," Victoria said, barely moving her lips.

  They crept up the stairs and out onto the second floor. The baby's wails had ceased, but it sounded like it had come from here. She shined her light up the stairwell, verifying it was empty, then stepped out into the hall. James followed behind, so close Victoria could hear his rapid breaths.

  She started down the hallway when scratching sounded beyond a door to her right. The numbers had long since been pried off, but the missing space in the crackled paint read, '137.'

  They shared a look. Victoria stood back, holding the gun, arms stretched before her. James leaned in, threw open the door, and shone his light into the darkened room.

  Nothing.

  A baby's coo came from the corner.

  Something shuffled across the trash-strewn floor. Victoria's light went to the movement, finding a pale, waxy shape the size of a bread loaf. James's brilliant light fell upon it, revealing a chitinous insect. The creature's face resembled a porcelain china doll, its oily black eyes completely filling the sockets. A pair of segmented pincers twitched outward from its bristle-lined hole of a mouth.

  It looked up at them and a shrill, infant's sob issued from that hideous maw.

  What...no...no...it's not real. Victoria stepped back, struggling to grasp the thing before her. It's not real.

  A se
cond cry issued from the room and a second baby-faced insect scuttled into the light's beam. It clacked its mandibles and sprang toward James.

  "Gah!" He lurched back, swinging the light away from the room as he batted the creature mid-air with his baton.

  It hit the wall with a hard thock, and fell to the floor, one of its legs broken.

  The creature made a giggle noise and shuffled back onto its belly, the broken leg twitching awkwardly.

  James screamed and kicked it. It hit the wall again, wailing its baby's cry. He stomped it over and over, crushing its plated armor, and squishing its guts out onto the filthy tiles.

  More screams poured from inside. Victoria swung her light around to see the other insect charging toward James, and a third one scurrying out from an open air vent.

  She fired. The gun's booming report was louder than she would have thought possible. The round missed, kicking up shards of linoleum. Victoria pulled the trigger again, blasting the hideous thing nearly in half. Its legs and mandibles shuddered as black ooze hissed out from the wound.

  Her ears rang in a shrill hum.

  The third creature was coming toward her, its mouth open in a scream that Victoria could no longer hear. It crawled onto a broken sofa frame, readying to jump when she raised the gun and fired.

  The creature fell back into the shadows, black ichor splattering onto the wall behind it.

  Heart pounding, Victoria reached into the damnable room, grasped the door's handle and yanked it shut before any more of the monsters could appear. That awful rotted stench flooded the hall.

  "What the hell! What the hell!" James blubbered, his voice barely audible above the muted hum. Sweat streaked his white face. His wide eyes were locked onto the smashed bug in undeniable terror.

  The creature's pale shell blackened and evaporated into misty vapor, leaving the gooey meat to sag and shrivel.

  "What the hell!" James' repeated, shaking his head.

  "We need to go," Victoria said.

  James only stared at the dead thing.

  "DC Kettington!"

  He looked at her. A smear of black ooze spattered his chin.

  "We need to go," she said.

  James blinked, then nodded. "Yeah. Need to go."

  Victoria started toward the stair when James froze, his eyes locked on the hallway behind her. She spun to see a man's shape silhouetted against the far window. James' light came up, revealing the smaller of the two black-clad intruders. He held his strange, curved sword before him.

  "Stop right there!" she ordered, raising the gun. "Police."

  The suspect cocked his head.

  "Put the weapon down!"

  The man straightened. "Move!" He charged, swinging his sword.

  Victoria fired. But the man was suddenly on the other side of the hall, still closing in.

  He swung. She fired again, but the man was now a full meter from where he should have been.

  James screamed and slammed into Victoria from behind. The gun fired harmlessly into the wall as she pitched forward. Her foot slipped on a discarded bottle. A white hot shock of pain exploded from her rolling ankle as she fell onto the gritty floor.

  The sound of ripping fabric and an awful clicking, and James' screams silenced.

  Teeth clenched, Victoria twisted around to see an enormous man-sized insectile creature on top of James. Its cluster of scythe-like mandibles clacked madly against each other. Two of its four arms ended in long, serrated points. It raised one and slashed down into James' shoulder.

  He screamed again and bashed his baton against the monster's head, but to no effect. The beast rammed its blade-like arm straight down into James's chest. He coughed blood but continued to bat his stick against his attacker.

  Victoria screamed. She raised the still smoking gun and pulled the trigger.

  Click.

  Then the sword-wielding stranger was above her. The creature's head snapped up towards him. Before it could move, the man slashed his blade into its back. Its chitonous shell split with a loud crack. The monster hissed and lashed one of its blade arms, slinging James' blood across the walls.

  Dodging the wild swing, the stranger ripped the sword free. He vanished and was suddenly directly behind the monster, his weapon coming down into the back of its skull.

  Cool blue flames burst from the monster's mouth.

  "No!" Victoria cried as the burning monster collapsed on top of James. She reached for him and the stranger took a wary step away. Blue fire flickered along his golden brown sword.

  About the Author

  Raised in the swamps and pine forest of East Texas, Seth Skorkowsky always dreamed of being a writer. He gravitated to the darker sides of fantasy, preferring horror and pulp heroes over knights in shining armor. His first short story sale, “The Mist of Lichthafen,” was long-list nominated for a British Fantasy Award. When not writing, Seth enjoys tabletop role-playing games, shooting sports, and traveling the world with his wife.

  Dämoren is his debut novel. Seth will also be releasing Mountain of Daggers, a sword and sorcery rogue collection, March 9, 2015. You can find out more about Seth at www.skorkowsky.com

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  For more information about the Valducan series, go to www.ragnarokpub.com