by Lee French
His finger directed Bobby’s attention to a vent on the roof with small openings, and he instantly felt stupid for not thinking of it first. “Let’s find out.” One dragon popped off his thumb and flew up there. Since he wasn’t sure what would happen or how much they could handle autonomously, he focused on it. His mind slid into it. He became the dragon and its little mind served as his co-pilot. Or maybe the other way around, because it knew how to move the body around a lot better than he did.
The vent had a screen inside it, but the dragon knew what to do about that from Christopher’s place. His dragon chewed open a hole in the screen, doing real damage faster than Bobby could realize Camellia might not appreciate that. The vent connected to a metal tube that went to the swamp cooler, which the dragon squeezed past.
Inside the house, the dragon flew around, orienting itself, then located the front door. Bobby set it to the task of unlocking the knob, noting the deadbolt wasn’t thrown, then let the dragon go to get it done without his interference. Back in his own body, he blinked and noticed Stephen watching him. “What’s it look like when I do that?”
“It’s adorable.” Stephen grinned broadly. “You look like you’re thinking very hard. Either that, or taking a dump.”
Unamused, Bobby smacked Stephen in the arm. “I’ll get a second opinion.” His dragon got excited, which he took to mean that it got the job done. He reached over and opened the door.
“Excellent. I’ll turn you into a ne’er-do-well yet.”
Bobby snorted and took his dragon back into himself as they paced inside. While Stephen walked through the main room, looking around, Bobby poked his head into the bedroom. “She ain’t here.”
“There’s a few things tossed around, but that could be from her hurrying. Hey, she’s cute. There’s some pics on the fridge.”
Moving into the bedroom, Bobby checked the closet and under the bed, finding two empty suitcases and no sign of anything missing. “She’s got a computer in here.” A laptop perched on her minimalist black plastic desk, screen flipped open and plugged in. A tiny green light glowed steady, though the screen was dark. On the off chance it might be turned on, he pressed the spacebar.
“She’s got plenty of food, so she wasn’t planning on going anyplace. Woman must know how to cook, there’s no doggie bags.”
The laptop’s fan whirred into action and the screen blinked on. He saw an image of himself, as seen by the built-in camera. Given the angle and his height, Bobby noticed a stain on his left pants pocket. “She seem like the type to be careless enough to leave her laptop running?”
A beat passed before Stephen answered, “Not really. If I assume the small signs of disturbance are from someone else intruding, then no, not at all. She’s got her leftovers labeled and dated.”
“Yeah, her bed is made, her desk is neat, it’s all tidy and stuff. You know how to use computers? I’m not really all that up on this stuff. I didn’t even have a cellphone.”
“Barbarian,” Stephen said with a sniff of disdain as he walked in and shooed Bobby out of the way. “So, using the webcam, were we, Camellia? What were you taking pictures of?” He sat down in her chair.
“You do that, I’m gonna eat.” Without waiting for a response, Bobby went out and poked through the fridge. God bless labels and microwaves. As he slid something labeled ‘turkey vegetable tetrazzini’ in dainty handwriting into the nuke-o-matic, Stephen called out.
“I think she was taken by suits.”
“Oh yeah, why’zat?” He punched buttons on the microwave and started it.
“She got a picture of one.”
Bobby blinked and rushed into the bedroom. “Seriously?” He peered at the the screen. Sitting in the same chair Stephen now occupied, he saw the girl in the pictures on the fridge, a perky brunette with blond streaks in her shoulder-length hair, the same icy blue eyes, a cute little nose, and a big smile. She showed off a tattoo on her shoulder blade, of a rose.
Behind her, in the doorway, a man in a dark suit and sunglasses held a syringe ready to use. The guy’s face looked blank, impassive, uninterested. Just another day at the office. More chilling, Bobby recognized that jaw from the group that showed up at Christopher’s apartment. Camellia had no idea what was about to happen to her, and he reached out to touch the screen, wanting to warn her.
Stephen looked up at Bobby. “The image timestamp is from today, about five hours ago. They’ve only had her that long. We only missed her by that much.”
If only they’d…what? Not slept? Not paused in El Paso? Not met Kurt? “Weren’t nothing we could do to get here faster’n we did.”
“Yeah.” Stephen nodded in grim agreement, turned back to the laptop. “You eat, I’m going to see if there’s anything to tell if her power is active or not and what it might be.”
Chapter 13
Phoenix lit a fire under Bobby and Stephen to get to LA as quickly as possible, and they arrived before nightfall. The city of angels was home to three different members of their group, so they split up to each grab one and meet back up at the third. Bobby met Tiana, a zoologist working at the zoo who could talk to animals with her mind. She had to be the most attractive black woman he’d ever met, and he took another moment to boggle at how pretty everyone on the list had turned out to be so far.
“Tiana didn’t want to leave her job,” Bobby told Stephen as they walked to the front door of Matthew Garrison’s apartment, “but I told her we’d have a ton of wild animals at the new place, and she said she’d think about it. Also, we can crash at her place tonight if we need to. You? ”
“Javier was so eager to go along he almost tried to jump on my back so I could fly him away,” Stephen snorted. “I could see why, too. His girlfriend is a bitch. She’s knocked up and pals with his mom. Could hear her screeching from a block away. I did him a favor and bit her to take the edge off her temper. He’ll get himself out there if he has to walk.” He reached up and knocked on the door. “Hopefully without her.”
Bobby snorted, though he wasn’t so sure one of them abandoning a pregnant girlfriend should be hoped for. They waited about three minutes for someone to answer the door. “Shoot, I guess we gotta do this the hard way.”
Stephen sighed and nodded for Bobby to get on with it.
Four dragons came off his hand and flew around the place, looking for any way in they could find. A neighbor opened their door and they dove in, looking for air vents to go through the ductwork. About ten minutes later, while Stephen and Bobby stood around trying to look innocent and harmless, the locks on the door clicked open. Bobby opened the door and walked in, the dragons reattaching to him. “I gotta say, until you had the idea in Phoenix, I never woulda thought to do that on my own.”
“You just have to think like a rapist.”
“I’m gonna pretend you didn’t just say something that messed up.”
With a light sigh, Stephen said, “Sorry. It’s hard to get sex off my mind since this happened. A lot of what I can do is wrapped up in it. When I get really desperate for blood, my mind conjures up— Let’s just say some of what goes on in here,” he tapped his head with a finger as they looked around the apartment, “isn’t about cute little bunnies and fuzzy duckies.”
“Message received and understood,” Bobby replied absently. He flipped through the mail sitting on the counter, then checked the fridge. Since he was there and could use a bite, he grabbed a swiftly spoiling banana to eat it.
“There’s a messy serial killer in LA,” Stephen noted as he picked up a newspaper and looked it over. “Funny, this is from a week ago. And it’s only the front page section. This next one is from two weeks ago.” He flipped through the stack on the table. “Offhand, I’d say either Matthew is the killer, or he’s pals with a victim.” Looking up, he rolled his eyes to see Bobby drinking milk from a cup. “Must you always eat in front of me?”
“I’m hungry. Flying all over the place like that takes a lot of energy, it don’t just come from nowhere.” He ch
ugged down the rest of what was in the glass and rinsed it out in the sink, then put it in the dishwasher with the other dirty dishes there. “If he’s killing people, that makes this more complicated.”
Stephen waved dismissively. “Let’s find out a little more about who our boy actually is before we decide who he might be. I’m just saying that him collecting these particular papers is suggestive.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Bobby started looking through drawers and cabinets. He saw a box of cereal and started munching on it while he kept looking around. Half an hour later, they knew he’d been discharged from the military about six months ago. He’d been having trouble holding down a job, his bills were all late, and he had a girlfriend. It looked like the girlfriend might be dead. There apartment had evidence of a woman living in it, but also not. Nothing in the bathroom looked like it belonged to a woman, but decorations around the place that pointed to a feminine hand. The fridge had bachelor food in it, but the cabinets had stuff that didn’t match up.
At least they knew they had the right guy. A picture of the two of them in a classy frame hung on the wall. They were a cute couple, both good looking and happy.
“I think our guy has some problems.” Stephen walked out of the bathroom carrying two different prescription pill bottles. “I’m guessing he didn’t leave the Marines just because his tour was up. I have no idea what these drugs are, but they can’t be for anything shiny or happy. The names are too long.”
“D’you get the feeling like he just crashes here and that’s it?”
Looking around, Stephen shrugged. “Maybe he’s just a neat freak.”
Bobby sighed in frustration. “None of this really tells us where to find him.”
“We could just wait until he comes home. Everything points to him sleeping here regularly.”
“I s’pose. If he’s out there killing folks, though, are we a little guilty for not finding him and stopping him?” Bobby looked in the fridge again and grabbed a box of Chinese takeout, sniffed it, and started eating it cold with his fingers. He dropped himself into a chair with that.
Stephen grimaced in utter disgust and sat down where he wouldn’t have to watch Bobby eat. Both would be in sight of anyone opening the door. “No. I feel no guilt whatsoever for not being psychic or an experienced investigator.”
Before answering. Bobby finishing chewing his mouthful of lo mein. “Fair enough. What about sending him to all the others if he’s a serial killer?”
“I would feel some amount of guilt about him killing them, yes, I will admit that.”
“I meant, maybe we shouldn’t send him there.”
Stephen steepled his fingers. “No. Regular cops won’t be able to stop him, if they can even find him. Depending upon what his superpowers are, anyway. If I was out killing people, they’d likely never find me unless I chose my victims based upon a personal connection to me. If it was you, the same, and I’m sure for many of the others, as well. If you really want to stop him from killing people, sending him there is likely the only way it’ll happen. Just call ahead and warn them.”
Bobby nodded while he ate, seeing the point, and the wisdom. “We are kinda dangerous, ain’t we. Nobody could stop me if’n I wanted to rob houses and stuff.”
“I would make an unstoppable serial killer,” Stephen agreed.
The memory of that one suit’s brains splattered on the wall and floor surfaced, and Bobby set the empty food box aside. Alice’s episode came to mind soon after, then the ease with which Ai stole what she needed. His mind wandered down the worst case scenario of the ones he knew about, and he saw bodies and destruction and looting. He let out a somber sigh.
“Yes, it is a little disturbing to realize the only thing really preventing you from taking whatever you want is your own commitment to morality.”
Bobby nodded, finding the statement close enough to his thoughts to be the same. “If he won’t go, there ain’t a whole lot we can do about that.”
“Untrue. I can take him forcibly. You can go on to the rest on your own.”
“I s’pose that’s the best option.” He was going to say something else, but the sound of someone unlocking the door interrupted him, and they both went still. The door opened, someone slipped inside, plastered himself against the door like he was afraid something would open it to get him.
Bobby recognized Matthew from the photos. He wore jeans and nothing else. Blood had been smeared and splashed across his chest and arms, and his eyes stared out, wide and horrified. It took him a moment to notice them. In the space of perhaps two seconds, the jeans disappeared, his body grew muscles and fur and claws, and his head reshaped with a fanged snout. He shot upwards to nine feet tall, turning into the scariest damn werewolf Bobby had ever seen.
While Bobby blew out into dragons, terrified this thing would maul him, Stephen remained sitting with his legs crossed and hands laced together in his lap. “How apropos that a vampire and a werewolf should fight this close to Hollywood. With dragons, to boot. I wonder if we’ll attract any orcs or fairies.”
Matthew made a snarling, barking noise and jumped at Stephen. The vampire surged up to meet the werewolf. Bobby, unable to get into it much without causing a problem for Stephen, got the dragons to open the door a crack so ten could slip out and keep watch. If someone came to this door, he wanted to know about it before they arrived and got involved.
Stephen and Matthew seemed an even match, each strong enough to hold the other back. To try to help the odds, the dragons went in for the werewolf’s legs. His little critters scratched and scraped against Matthew’s furry flesh, finding it tougher than anything they’d encountered before. With them so ineffectual, he pulled the dragons out to keep them safe.
Furniture flew and fists smashed into the wall. Stephen threw the werewolf into the fridge, rocking it back and denting the wall. Matthew returned the favor by tossing the vampire through an inner wall, putting Stephen in the bedroom. They did what Bobby thought of as wrasslin’, except for the fangs and claws and superhuman strength. It carried them back through the apartment, wrecking it as they went, until Stephen got thrown through a window and Matthew chased after, like a dog going after a stick.
With it now public, they stood a very real chance of this scrap getting noticed by the neighbors. If the noise hadn’t already prompted a call to the cops, looking out a window and seeing this spectacle surely would. He could almost imagine the call to the police. ‘Officer, there’s two costumed freaks wrasslin’ around outside, making a heckuva ruckus!’ Or however the locals would say that. The swarm followed them out, keeping a watch all around.
Matthew filled the air with giant angry dog noises. Stephen hissed, reminding Bobby of a riled-up cat. Claws flew and fangs crunched. With every injury inflicted, each of them healed over. In Stephen’s case, the wounds knitting seemed to take something out of him, tiring him, or depleting something. Despite that, every time the werewolf tossed him, he righted himself and plowed back in, pushing Mathew back towards the apartment.
A police car screamed onto the scene, brakes screeching as it halted sideways to block their passage farther down the street. Bobby saw it coming and couldn’t think of anything to do about it. As helpless as any other bystander, he watched and hoped the situation might clear enough for him to see a way to interject himself. This feeling reminded him of how he felt when that needle went into his leg at Jasmine’s apartment, except that this just kept going on and he didn’t get the luxury of blacking out for any part of it.
Jumping out of the cruiser, a cop held his gun out and shouted for the two men to freeze and get on the ground. The command drew Matthew’s attention. He threw Stephen again and bounded for the flashing lights of the police car. Bobby couldn’t let the cop get hurt just for being the one to show up. He dove at the officer and re-formed right in front of him, willing to take the hit. Matthew slammed into him claws first.The impact made his body disperse into dragons again, and Matthew fell forward, splaying on the ground at th
e cop’s feet.
Dragons dove in and buzzed Matthew’s head. Although it kept him from being able to see any other targets, it made him freak out more, and he scraped at the air around his head. This distraction gave Stephen a chance to grab the cop and toss him out of the way. The cop stumbled aside and fired into the fray, emptying his clip at the impossible scene. Stephen twisted and dropped to his knees. Still on the ground, Matthew’s body jumped as bullets slammed into it.
The werewolf stopped fighting to lie on the ground panting. On all fours now, Stephen coughed and spat out a mouthful of blood. Bobby panicked. One of his dragons had been crushed by a bullet—he could see it over there. What would happen when he re-formed? He had no idea, and didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t stay in the swarm forever; he needed to sleep and eat, and he couldn’t do either as all dragons. Would he just not have a fingertip anymore? Would there be a bullet hole in a random place on his body?
Part of the swarm noticed the cop changing his clip and moving forward to threaten Stephen. The rest focused on the broken body of the little dragon on the ground several feet away. He heard Stephen say, “You moron, you have no idea what you’ve just involved yourself in.” Did he mean to convince the cop he’d stumbled into some kind of secret vampire-werewolf war?
Dozens of dragons surrounded the broken one—and it was broken, he saw, not injured—to pick it up and… Eat it? Part of him rebelled at the notion of his dragons being cannibals. The rest freaked out about the ‘broken’ part. He was made of robots, tiny robots shaped like dragons. Tiny robots shaped like dragons that ate metal and each other. What did that make him? Was he even human anymore? Had he ever been?
The cop’s voice, shaky and shocky, called for an ambulance, presumably over his radio. He ejected the clip from his gun and slammed a fresh on in. “I really don’t care about whatever crazy thing you’re doing out here, lie down on the ground and put your hands behind your head.”
“Like that’s going to happen.” Stephen sat up on his feet and spat a bullet at the cop. It bounced and rolled to the cop’s shoe. “You want to shoot me again?” Spreading his arms out wide in invitation, he gave the cop a wide-eyed glare, his nostrils flared. “Go ahead and shoot me.”
