by Keller, Tom
"Your dog?" Theno asked.
"Fae hunting dog, actually," I said, as if he didn’t know.
"Of course," he replied. "I'll let Browne know to expect another passenger."
The External Affairs Bureau, or EAB, was the agency tasked with dealing with the Fae and other magical beings that lived within the U.S. When they discovered what we were, Jay, a Homeland Security Agent, had been transferred and now worked for them. Nikki had been fortunate enough to stay with the local PD, but now served on a task force that was comprised of Fae members of both agencies. For the most part, they left us alone to manage our own affairs, but when problems arose, they weren't shy about getting involved.
As government agencies went, they really weren't that bad. They seldom tried to take over and were more than willing to work with the local Fae on issues. But, as a former local cop, I was a little hesitant to trust them completely. Since Jay worked for them, and I trusted him, it was a little easier to deal with them; not that I had much choice. Besides, I'd met their top guy, a fallen Angel by the name of Samson, and we'd hit it off. But guys like Theno had a habit of rubbing me the wrong way at times. It's not that he was a bad guy, he just had that everything's a secret kind of attitude. Even when he was trying not to.
I got dressed, grabbed my weapons and went downstairs to let Charlie know what we were doing. A few minutes later, the gate beeped. I keyed the opener and we went outside to catch our ride.
"Mr. Hoskins," Agent Browne said as I walked through the gate. He was holding open the back door of the SUV. Browne had been my driver the first time I'd met with the EAB. This time, he was a lot friendlier.
"Agent Browne," I replied as Charlie trotted up behind me. "Good to see you again. This is Charlie."
"Good to meet you," he said as Charlie jumped in.
As I got in the back with Charlie, I saw that there was someone in the front passenger seat. It took a moment to register his presence beyond what I could see, as he exhibited all the signs of not being there. Let me rephrase that. He was there, he just didn't register with my senses, not the magical ones, anyway. He was somewhere between 30 and 40, with close cropped brown hair that had just a tinge of grey at the sides, and brown eyes. He was dressed in what appeared to be standard tan military camouflage with blacked out patches. He looked human enough, but I knew it wasn't that simple.
When I talk about other Fae not being able to sense what I am, I'm talking about the magic part. They think I'm just another human. But this guy wasn't radiating anything. It was like he was a black hole. I could see him, but nothing leaked out to explain what he was.
"He is a Null," Charlie said.
"Your dog's right," Browne said as he started the SUV. "Allow me to introduce SGT. John McDaniel. He's attached to the office as a military liaison."
"Mr. Hoskins, Charlie," McDaniel said as he turned and leaned over the seat, extending his hand. "I was called in at the request of your son, but we can discuss that later. I would have come out on something like this anyway."
"A pleasure," I said, shaking his hand. "I'm sorry to be rude, but what exactly is a Null?"
"No offence taken," he replied. "We're kind of rare. Let's just say that magic doesn’t affect me like regular folks. I like to think of it as leveling the playing field. Unless one of your kind sees me with their eyes, there's a good chance they won't know I'm there. It's not perfect. I can tell you sense something is missing. But it comes in hand, more often than not."
"I can see where it would," I agreed, not taking the your kind comment personally. If I hadn't seen him when we got into the SUV, I probably wouldn't have known he was here, either. "So, what do we have? I didn't get a briefing; I was just told to be here."
"Our little conjurer from yesterday woke up this morning," Browne began. "He's 19, and he didn’t get the spell from some used book. Instead, he found it at a place up in Lee Canyon. Claims he couldn’t get his hands on the book itself, but managed to take a picture of the page the spell came from when the owner was distracted. Apparently, the boy is not the little Angel his mother thinks he is. We found his other books hidden in the attic. Turns out he started reading Anton LaVey a while back and now considers himself a born again Satanist."
Lee Canyon was one of two roads that led to the Mt Charleston recreational area. Less populated, and with a ski resort at the top, some of the older homes in the area had opted to stay off the grid. Although technology was reaching out to the more rugged areas, it was the perfect place to stay low profile.
"He says he hooked up with someone who he met on the Internet with similar interests and snuck a photo of the book during a... well, let's just call it a liaison, he had last week. Claims the guy is a dark Witch or Wizard, and was looking for a new acolyte. We tracked the location to a spot up in Lee Canyon. Best we can tell, the information is accurate. We have eyes on the ground and the place is definitely shrouded using dark magic. Our team is going to hit it this morning and they want you there for the investigative follow up. We're hoping we can develop some information that will be useful against any other of these Demons out there. Your friend Michael should be there as well. He's got some expertise in these matters and, as you've now learned, we're not shy about working with the local Fae when it comes to this kind of thing."
Browne continued his drive to the mountain as we talked. When were still a few miles from the ski resort, he slowed down and turned left onto a gravel road, before pulling over a mile or so later behind several more black SUVs. As we stopped, the sergeant got out I looked to Agent Browne for instructions.
"You two need to stay with me for a few. We'll go in after the entry team." He looked at me with the rear view mirror. "We should have a good view from here, though."
Looking through the windshield, Charlie and I watched McDaniel walk to one of the other SUVs and receive something out of the passenger window. A moment later, I saw it was a set of binoculars. He then walked up to a man in black fatigues who was on his knees in the center of the road. Kneeling beside him, they had a short conversation, and then McDaniel held up his hand, giving a count with his fingers When he reached zero, he took off in a crouch across the desert toward a higher patch of ground that looked almost like a low lying mesa. A moment later, he disappeared. Damn! I hadn't sensed a thing.
I knew it had to be some type of magic veil, but even if made with dark magic, I was surprised that I couldn't see any evidence of it. Since I had sensed nothing out here the other day, either; I could only surmise that whoever conjured it knew what they were doing. The thought did not comfort me. Turning my concentration to the man kneeling in the road, I suddenly realized that he was projecting something as well.
"Who's that?" I asked, now catching a glimpse of shimmering radiating from him.
"That's Slater, one of our Mages," Browne replied. "The target is actually located on the small rise in front of us. Our target chose a spot that gave him a good view of the area. Whatever he's using to mask it is still up, so Slater is projecting a wall of his own to hide us. He would have walked the other vehicles in before we got here so they wouldn't be observed. He'll maintain his position until McDaniel gives the go ahead, then they'll make entry. You'll enjoy that part."
"Why's that?" I asked.
"You made entries on high risk targets when you were a cop, right?" Browne asked.
"Yeah, of course," I replied.
"Ever use magic to do it?"
"No," I admitted.
"I don’t want to spoil it," he said with a laugh. "But you're going to love our version of a flash-bang."
Browne was, as I mentioned, much friendlier than last time. It also apparent that he knew a lot about me. Much more than I expected. I wasn't going to ask him about it, but it was something I was going to remember.
A few minutes later, McDaniel reappeared at almost the same location he'd disappeared from. This time, however, he was crawling. He stood and jogged back to the SUVs, giving the Mage in the road a thumbs up as he pass
ed by. Several people, all in dark camo, exited their vehicles as he approached. After a short huddle, they got back into the SUVs and began to pull away. As McDaniel followed, the departing vehicles stopped just short of the Mage in the road. Then someone exited the rear passenger side of the front SUV and joined him. McDaniel took his spot in the vehicle. I heard two clicks on the car radio as they met up. The kneeling Mage stood, and both faced the dark magic veil with raised hands.
There was a burst of psychic energy, similar to one I would project in battle, but much larger and violent, as it was almost unfocused. I could almost see the clouds of energy rolling back and forth, psychic lightning and thunder cracking over the area that had once been hidden. I could just imagine the effect it would have on anyone inside. Much more than a flash-bang grenade that would have distracted its target with just light and noise. With engines straining, the three SUVs drove forward, tires spinning, and raced to a structure where it seemed just desert had been before. Even with the windows up, I could smell the sulphuric odor of the dark magic veil as it blew apart and drifted, slowly dissipating in the breeze.
The radio clicked again. Browne started up the engine and pulled forward, following the other black SUV that had stayed behind. Stopping a hundred yards shy of the others, I saw the operation was already in progress. With almost textbook precision, agents were out of their vehicles and assaulting what I could now see looked to be a Victorian style mansion. The mixture of technology with swords and sorcery was fascinating to watch as at least twelve agents moved into position, carrying various weapons, from military grade assault rifles to swords and wands. Agents entered from the front as others moved in at the sides and rear. A few minutes later, the radio clicked again, and the two SUVs moved forward toward the house.
"We're good to go," Browne said as he opened his door. "We're heading to the other SUV first."
I opened my door and got out, Charlie behind me. I followed Browne to the other vehicle. As we approached, the doors opened and two agents waited as Michael from the Neptune exited from the rear.
"Welcome to the party," he said as I approached.
I nodded as the agent from the passenger side began to speak.
"Michael, Mr. Hoskins and... Charlie, is it?" he began. "My name is Hoade. Just for the record; once the area is secured, you three can enter with Agent Browne. For the moment, we would ask that you speak with one of us before disturbing any evidence; but you will be granted full access once things are properly documented. Any insights will be appreciated. Is that acceptable?"
We all nodded, even Charlie.
"Good. Then I leave you in Agent Browne's capable hands", he said as he and the other agent walked away.
"Gotta love his personality," Michael quipped.
Even Agent Browne seemed to crack a smile at that remark. Then, a single agent came out of the front door and walked toward us.
"Mark," the agent said as he approached, nodding at Browne. "Michael, good to see you again." Then he directed his attention to me. "You must be Hoskins."
"I am," I replied. "And this is Charlie."
I could sense the Were within him. That might explain why none of Martin's people seemed to be here. Looks like they already had someone inside.
"Yes," he replied, bending toward the dog. "The Fae hunting dog." He moved his hand toward Charlie's head, then hesitated before petting him. Charlie moved closer and he gave the big dog's head a pat. "I've heard about you. Glad you could join us."
"I'm Andy Hill," he said as he straightened up. He reached out to shake my hand. "I think you're going to find this interesting. Follow me."
As we began to walk toward the house, he continued to speak.
"The place is empty. There was no one alive in there. There is a dead guy in the basement; what's left of him. Probably our target, but identification is still pending," he said. "As for the Demons? Whatever the hell he conjured up was big, and he obviously couldn’t control it. It's gone now. McDaniel's out back watching the desert, just in case. It looks like whatever happened here is a few days old. Unless we did something to draw attention just by being here, I doubt it's coming back today. Of course, we won’t know that unless something actually shows up. Anyway, it'll take a while for one of the Wizards or Mages to get back up here. They're still out checking the rest of the area. I don’t know what they can tell us, but if Charlie's nose is any good, maybe he can give us a head start."
"I will do my best," Charlie said. No one seemed surprised that he could talk. It was also nice to think that these folks looked at Charlie as an asset to the team. Not that other dogs hadn't played similar roles over the years; K-9, bomb, and drug sniffing dogs had been part of police work for a long time. They just didn't hold conversations with the other members of the team. It was also good to remember that any dog, and not just a Fae like Charlie, could smell things with his nose and other senses. Things in ways that we could never duplicate.
"These things are attracted to magic," I said. "Just so you know."
"We've got eyes on the perimeter," Hill replied. "McDaniel's is aware of that as well."
I nodded and we followed him into the house. I was amazed at the sharp difference from what I expected to find inside. Although the style was typical Victorian, especially the fireplace with its huge wooden mantle and the painting that hung above it, the decor was anything but. For a moment, I thought I had stepped back in time to the sixties. One wall had wallpaper that was gold with a cork backing, and another was wood paneled. The furniture had wooden legs with chrome feet, and there was a futon against one wall. Even the TV was the old tube type. Glancing into the kitchen, I saw that the furniture was of a similar style and copper pots and pans hung above the counter.
"I like the location, but someone needs an interior designer," Michael said as he walked in behind me.
"No shit," I remarked. "How long as he been up here?"
"At least 50 years, based on the furniture alone," Browne said, rubbing his finger over a dusty table. He stared at the dirt that had accumulated on his finger, then wiped his hands with a handkerchief. "And the dust. But it's been private land longer than that. I checked the records this morning and this parcel was purchased back in the 40s. Part of a mining company operation that is long out of business. We're still sifting through corporate records to find out who owns it today."
That wasn’t unusual up here. Although most of the land was managed by BLM or the U.S. Forest Service, there were a lot of small and medium size parcels that had been grandfathered in before they made this a National Forest.
"Let's continue," Hill said. "What you really want to see is downstairs."
We followed Hill to a wood paneled wall where a section, once hidden by molding, had been opened. There was a wooden staircase that led down.
"I'm not really sure why it was hidden behind the paneling," Hill said. "Although it wouldn’t have been obvious inside, from the back it's just another level."
As we reached the end of the stairs, I saw what appeared to be a library, or at least what was left of one. There were a few agents moving about, and the place was wrecked. Half the far wall had been broken open with the desert visible behind it. There were shards of glass and broken plaster everywhere. Shelves lined the other walls, filled with books. Many were strewn about, their pages open and torn, and some showed evidence of being burned. On one side was a large table with beakers and vials. In the center of the room was what was left of a man. He was face down; or he would have been if he still had a face. His head was missing. As I watched, two agents loaded him on a gurney, then moved the body out of the room.
He had been sprawled out on the wooden floor, most of him lying within a hand drawn circle of white. Partially burned books covered some of it, but I could see that there had been symbols written in dark red and dull white within the circle. The characters were wedge shaped in design.
"I'm certainly no expert, but this looks almost like cuneiform," I said as I knelt to take a clo
ser look.
"Some of it," Browne agreed. "But those are not." He pointed to another part of the circle where symbols appeared. "These are more like hieroglyphs."
"Looks like some were written in blood," Michael pointed out. "But what's the white?"
"Some kind of paste," Hill said, kneeling by a wooden bowl, its contents spilled on the ground where it had fallen. "Smells like it has bone in it."
Browne gave him a questionable look. It was more in jest, as was indicated by the nod and raised eyebrows. "Just don't touch anything."
"Hey! Werewolf here," he replied. "Trust me, I don't need to touch it to know what it is. I've seen, and smelled, my share of crushed bone."
"The beast was here," Charlie said suddenly. We all turned toward him. He was sniffing the edges of the circle. Then he began to search around the room and finally out the broken wall into the desert behind.
"The dog's one of ours," Hill said into a radio he carried. There were several clicks in response, indicating that whoever was out there had received the message.
I walked over to the broken wall where he was standing, and watched Charlie move about the desert.
"Are you a member of Martin's pack?" I asked.
"Martin Chibeaux? No," he replied. "I'm an independent. Chibeaux's a good guy though, I run with them now and then. Good leader too, from what I hear. When I retire, maybe I'll stay here and join up."
Our conversation was interrupted by Charlie returning to the yard.
"What did you find?" I asked as he came back into the house.
"Several Demons were here," he said. "Ours and at least three more. Smaller, but no less evil. Their scent is faint, but enough remains on the ground to know they were here. Whatever magic was used here trapped the scent. There is no trace beyond the grounds."
"That answers that," Michael said. "We bagged two, so there's still yours and another one out there."
"Maybe. What about the boy's?" I asked. "I'm guessing it came from here."
"Unknown," Browne replied. "Although it is likely. We know the one that appeared at his house is similar to those Michael reported, but there is no way to know if it came from here or if there was something else the boy did that caused it to appear. Whatever spell he used was supposed to be on his phone, but it's fried. Literally. The phone melted from the inside out and there's no evidence of any back up."
