by Sean Hayden
"Without a doubt. We are meeting again in the morning to finish the formulae."
"I sound like a science experiment."
"In some ways, you will be. Do not doubt, while the dangers have been limited, they are still real."
"As I said before, as long as the vampires are safe, I'm happy."
"You are much to selfless for your age."
I made myself a little more comfortable on the couch. "I think that makes me selfish, not selfless. I want everybody to be happy, healthy, and safe. I could say fuck it and worry about my ass, but no, I want the whole kit and caboodle."
"I think you need to look up the definition of the word selfless."
"Meh. It will probably just hurt my head."
He finally laughed his musical, mesmerizing laugh. "How I missed these little exchanges of ours."
"You and me both. I wanted to go through the academy training again for two reasons. You were one of them."
"What was the other?"
"Confidence in what I am and what I'm doing."
"You still lack these?"
"The only confidence that I have is that I'm not confident. I often hesitate before making decisions. It can be very frustrating and dangerous. Kind of funny how you want to make a decision that will keep the people around you safe, but you put them in danger making decisions."
"Quite the conundrum."
"It is. I call it Thorne's Law."
"We shall have to register it in the journals of law."
"Put it next to Murphy's. They're close."
"Murphy's Law? I have not heard of this."
I cleared my throat.
"Murphy's Law clearly states that whatever can go wrong, can and will go wrong."
"This Murphy also sounded like a wise human."
"Most Irish are," I said with a wink.
"There is more truth to that than you can imagine. Some say the wisest of sages learned more truths at the bottom of a bottle than seventy years of life."
"Wow. That's deep," I said. "Alright, I'm going to go take a shower and pack."
He nodded. "I think I shall retire for the evening."
"G'night, Daren."
"Good night, youngling."
I slipped into my room and shut the door, stripped, and tossed my clothes into the hamper for once. Having company was such a bother.
I opened the door to the bathroom and flipped on the light. As soon as my foot hit the tile, it dissolved into nothing and I began falling over a crystal-clear green lake. I landed with a splash and came up sputtering. The fall had only been thirty feet or so, but the impact against the water still stung. I paddled my way to shore and pulled myself onto the soft blue grass. I'm not talking Kentucky bluegrass. I meant the damn grass was blue.
"What the ever-loving fuck?"
I rolled on my back and sat up, gazing at my surroundings. Hills rolled on the landscape as far as the eye could see. A city sat in the distance but looked like nothing you could find on earth. Twisted spires reached for the sky, but not menacingly. They themselves were graceful. Flowers bloomed all around me and something behind me snorted. I turned to look but could only catch a momentary glimpse of a silver-white horse. That didn’t shock me as much as the brief sight I had of the twisted horn on its head.
"Unicorn?"
A butterfly landed on my arm, its fangs piercing my flesh. I moved to swat it, but a tiny humanoid body stopped my hand mid-strike. I lifted my arm to get a better view and a faerie with eyes twice as large as they should be, in proportion to its head, stared at me menacingly. "Could you not?"
It began to choke and spit out the mouthful of blood it had accumulated. It screeched in some language I couldn't even remotely understand. I'd heard elvish before, but this wasn't even close.
I stood up and wiped the mud off me as best I could, desperately wishing for a towel. Not to dry off, but to cover up with. Getting dropped into the middle of Faerie without a stitch of clothing was just cruel. Then it dawned on me. I was actually standing in the middle of Faerie. In the daylight. It didn't burn and my eyes weren't tearing in pain.
"What the ever-loving fuck?"
It had to be said again.
"Daren?" I made his name a question. I didn't expect him to answer, I just voiced my suspicions. It had to have been him. He was the only one who could have turned my bathroom into a portal Underhill. The question was why?
A hunting horn sounded in the distance and a bird screeched above me. I didn't pay it any heed until I heard the baying of hounds. They were getting closer. I decided to head toward the city, not really wanting to get caught naked with nowhere to hide, by a bunch of elven hunters. That would be a little difficult to explain. Hopefully I could find some clothes before entering the city. I might have to beg for them, but it beat the alternative.
I began running. Not overly fast, just enough to set a good pace. The hounds in the distance still sounded like they were getting closer. I turned, looked over my shoulder, and saw the first of them crest a hill not too far away. They saw me and began baying even louder.
"They're after me?" I stopped and stared for a moment to make sure. More hounds poured over the hill, some of them as large as horses.
"Wolfhounds."
The hunters came into view. This wasn't a normal hunting party either. Behind them, they kicked up a trail of dust and storms. Lightning flashed as blackness billowed out from the hooves of their horses. The leader wore a helm of bone and pointed a spear in my direction. Fear poured off them in waves. The sun above darkened, turning sky to night.
"I would suggest running. Nobody has every escaped the wild hunt before, but there is always hope."
I spun around, squawked, and dropped to my ass. A winged man sat on a rock behind me. I'm not talking butterfly or fairy wings either. Honest to goodness, white-feathered, majestic-as-fuck wings sprouted from his back and hung lazily around him. I looked at his face and recognized him instantly.
"You…" I recognized him. From a dream. Or, more like a vision. I had seen him fighting with my father on a blood red battlefield…
"I see you remember me."
I nodded, words eluding me.
"Well, when I commanded Oberon to have his minion dispatch you, I certainly wasn't expecting him to drop you in the middle of The Hunt. Kudos to him for originality, but I suspect he didn't have the guts to plunge the blade and take your head himself. I don't know whether to laude him or punish him. What do you think, abomination?"
His words hit home. I knew I had been dumped here because of Daren, I just didn't realize he intended for me to die. That hurt a lot more.
But he was commanded to do it.
But he didn't have to go through with it.
And then I thought of Mel and how she acted around Daren. I guess neither of them could stray from who they were. I looked over my shoulder and saw my time growing shorter by the second.
"Leave Daren alone. It's me you want dead."
"You dare give me orders?" He said it with an evil smile and swelled to twice his size.
"Fuck off." Chances are I was dead either way, so I would at least let him know how I felt about the situation. I stood up and didn't bother covering myself.
"Where will you run? You might be able to make it to the city. They will not let you in, not with what you are, and definitely not with The Hunt about. They kill everything in their path."
"Sounds like a fun crowd. I wouldn't put innocent people in harms way, anyway. That's more of you and my father's methods," I rebutted and took off back the way I had come, toward the lake. They might still be able to catch me, but I knew one thing for certain, I couldn't drown.
"You're heading for the lake," he said, flying above me. "I don't think you'll make it in time or that it will do any good. The creatures in the hunt are immortal in the truest sense of the word. Well, this is kind of pointless to tell you. You'll find out soon enough when you join them."
"I die, I become part of that pack?"
/> "Yes, abomination. A fitting place for you, I think."
"Were you always this much of a dick? What did I do?"
"That is what being an abomination means. You are not supposed to exist. You upset the balance that has been maintained for countless millennia."
"How about you blame dear old Dad instead of me? Ever hear of sins of the father?"
"They are to be laid on the children…"
"Well it’s not my fucking fault. I didn't ask for this you self-righteous, pompous prick. I'm trying to do some good in the world with the shit hand I was dealt. I'm not evil. My dad wants me dead. You want me dead. Fine," I said and stopped running.
I spun and saw the scope of The Hunt. It was nearly entirely in view. My legs began to shake, but I'd had enough. If everybody wanted me dead so bad, I could live with that. Everything came crashing down on me at once. Vic. Daren. The prick hovering above me. My father, Marcel. My Aunt. I couldn't take it anymore. I might be naked, but I wouldn't die afraid. I planned on taking a few of them out with me, immortal or not.
"What are you doing."
"Dying, you fucking douche." I glanced up at him and his dumbfounded look, and lost it.
I jumped into the air and crashed into his chest. Grabbing on to him with everything I had. He shrieked like an eagle when my claws dug in under his wings and my teeth found his chest. Elven blood nearly knocked me on my ass. Angel blood tasted like heaven and I didn't want to stop. His fists put a damper on my meal plans though. He crushed me between them and I fell to the ground.
At least I got my final meal.
My eyes closed, and the baying of hounds drew closer. Then blissful oblivion took away the pain. Took away everything.
∞ ∞ ∞
To my surprise, I woke up. Pain still wracked my entire body. Getting clobbered by a celestial being wasn't going to be on my to do list, again anytime soon. I groaned as I sat up.
"You're awake," Daren's voice wasn't a question, just more of shocked surprise.
"Yeah. Did you get the name of that freight train?"
"Raphael."
"I'm reporting him to the authorities," I said and plopped back down into my bed. "Although, I guess getting knocked unconscious by him was better than getting torn apart by hunting dogs."
"Ash, I–"
"Not right now, Daren. Let the pain go away first. Could you grab me a bag of blood out of the fridge, please?"
He stood from his chair next to the bed and did something I never in a million years would have expected. He pulled a knife, sliced it across his wrist, and pressed it to my lips. Hot Chatteau de Elf Lord sounded way better than a sack of cold Lycanthrope Rosé. I drank.
The world exploded in a flash of colors as it seeped into me and healed me. The pain ebbed, and the pleasure began. I stopped feeding before it became too much of a good thing. I didn't want that. Not from him. Not right now.
"Tastes like betrayal," I couldn't help but mutter.
He nodded and sat back down.
"But thank you, that helped."
"I'm sorry. I had ten-thousand things I planned to say to you when you woke up, but not one of them can convey my sorrow, anger, or the gratefulness I felt when the angel appeared with you in his arms. If it weren't a command from my king, I would have ignored it and dealt with the consequences."
"I know. Don't get me wrong. I'm pissed at you, but not as pissed as I am about the whole damn situation. Thanks for not killing me yourself. I don't think I could have gotten over that."
"You are the most remarkable little child. I hope you know that."
"Yep. One of a kind. So why did Mr. Angelpants change his mind?"
"I do not know. He seemed amused when he returned with you. I feared the worst when I saw your battered body, but you were very much alive. I don't think I've ever been more grateful for anything in my life."
"You and me both. I really wasn't expecting to wake up. How long was I gone?"
"Time flows differently Underhill. You were only gone for a few moments."
"Cool. So, I didn't miss my TV shows," I said and snuggled under the covers again, enjoying the spinning room. His blood was a little more potent than I was used to.
"Well, I am glad you are safe. I shall go gather my things. You have my heartfelt apologies, youngling. If there is anything I can ever do for you and it is in the scope of my power–"
"You can shut up and sit down, for starters. You're not going anywhere."
"Pardon?"
"Look. You did something you were commanded to do. I'm still alive. Nobody knows about it but you and me. As far as I'm concerned, it didn't happen. Well, it did happen, but that trap I stepped in wasn't set by you. That dastardly villain angel must have done it. Understand?"
"No?"
"Daren, I forgive you. You've always been there for me and I'm not going to let something you had no control over ruin our friendship. So, I'm ignoring what happened and I'm asking you to do the same. Plus, I still need you. So, I'm going to use you. Okay?"
"Very much so. Get some rest, youngling."
"Sure thing," I said and closed my eyes again and let the healing finish. I didn't sleep, and I probably wouldn't have even if I could. Too many things were flying through my brain, and the biggest one of them had wings. Big fluffy chicken wings. And a nice bod.
"Thank you," he said from the corner of my bedroom.
I lifted my head, saw the dimly illuminated angel, groaned, and plopped my head back down. "Did you come to finish the job?"
"Obviously not. If I wanted you dead, I could have finished you myself, or just left you for the hunt."
"Gee, thanks. So, to what then do I owe the pleasure of your gracious visit?"
"You intrigued me."
"Oops."
He laughed, and it filled the room like a choir of angels. Literally. It was even better than Marcel's laugh, which was tough to beat.
"And there is that witty charm."
"You mean sarcasm."
"Exactly," he said and disappeared.
"Fuck me."
Maybe later… His voice echoed in my head and an invisible hand caressed my cheek.
I looked around the empty museum. "Well, they certainly cleaned up the place. I don't even know why we're here. CSI went through the place with a fine-toothed comb, hazmat cleaned everything up, and a different artifact was put on display. Not to mention twenty-thousand people have probably traipsed through here with peanut butter and jelly smeared fingertips. We could have gotten just as much information reading the reports the director gave us."
"Yeah. I was hoping you'd smell something or feel something."
"I'm not a beagle, Thompson."
"No. Beagles listen."
"Woof."
"Kidding aside, I got a bad feeling about this one, kid. Something's nagging on the nerve behind my ear and it's not you for once."
I sighed. He was right. Something did feel wrong. The L.A. Museum of Natural History was the only place where something was stolen. "Maybe this wasn't connected to the other murders," I said, thinking out loud.
"Forensics say it was the same killer." He flipped open the file and started rifling through their pages. "Listen. No DNA found on scene other than that of the victims. Unknown venom found in circulatory system of all four victims, including the curator."
"Yeah, yeah. I'm just thinking out loud here. So why bust open a case and steal an ancient vase? It just doesn't make any sense. And why are all the murders exactly three nights apart? And why wasn't there any fucking surveillance footage at any of the crime scenes?"
"Your guess is as good as mine, kid. The recorders, when there were some, just stopped."
"Power outages?"
"Report says no. The recorders and anything else electronic just went fzzt."
"Is that the technical term?"
"Is now. I'm adding it to the report."
I sighed and walked around the replacement display case. Another vase sat on display. The placard sai
d this one was from ancient Greece. "Where was the other vase from?"
He flipped through the report until he found the description of the missing piece. "Get this. Mesopotamia. It was made out of alabaster and uniquely carved in an un-yet translated writing similar to cuneiform, but with vastly differing characteristics."
"Okay then. Don't you hate it when that happens?"
"Ruins my whole week."
"So freaky old carved vase in display case. Something smashed it and takes it and kills the only witness. Anything in that report as to why this vase was so important?"
He went back to reading. I went back to the display case. Sighing, I knelt to the ground and literally put my nose to the floor before taking a big whiff. Something hit me right between the eyes. I could smell spice, but nothing I could identify, yet it seemed oddly familiar. I ran my fingers over the ground and drew them to my nose, hoping to get a better sense.
Sickly sweet like allspice dipped in honey, but still a little earthier. I had never smelled anything quite like it. The closest I had come was the one time I fought a real-life demon.
My eyes widened, and fear socked me in the gut. I stood up and turned my head toward the display case holding the vase. Tearing my gaze away from it, I reached over and grabbed the top of the report, slowly pushing it down in Thompson's hands.
"The case wasn't smashed from the outside. Something broke out of it."
"You're saying something was in the vase? What?"
"Not in it. It came through it."
"I'm not following."
"It's a demon," I said slowly for emphasis. "Remember that skull?"
"So, what, this vase was the things skull?"
"No, you dolt. It was its vessel. Things that demons use to get to the mortal realm."
"And this demon used it to get from…demon-land to L.A., materialized inside a museum because it was on display, ate the curator, and is now killing supernatural things every three days? Why?"
"It's feeding. Three days is a little longer than I can go without eating on my best days."
"And it just picked now to start showing up?" He cocked an eyebrow.
"You don't believe me?"
"I do. I'm just worried. A demon loose in L.A. isn't exactly what we need right now. How do we find it?"
