A Mongrel's Curse (Breed Matters Book 1)

by Paul C. Middleton

  Rising from the bed I faced away from them. I guess I should mention I don't like dressing around others.I never know what I'm gonna be like when I get up in the morning. So I can be a little sensitive about it. There was a giggle as I took of the hospital gown and I could feel my neck and face heat. At least the clothes fit, even if the t-shirt was tight enough to make me look like a metrosexual.

  I turned around as Fidelma was pulling on her t-shirt. Gods, she had an amazing rack. I quickly made sure there was no expression on my face. No - let's not start trouble now. When Isolde turned back to face me, she gave me a smile "So, you ready?" She asked. I just shrugged. No point in taking any longer than it had to.

  She unfurled her wings. I was expecting the black scaled wings all furies had. Not the golden scaled wings with thicker bones and a larger wingspan than I'd ever seen before. And claws at every point bones met or ended. She preened at the expressions she received from Fidelma and me.

  "Why don't you want anyone else to see? They're amazing!" Fidelma said. She absently stroked Isolde's wings, and I saw a shiver of pleasure run through Isolde at the touch.

  I answered for Isolde. "Because people will want to either categorize her or take her for their own. She's far safer if they don't know." Isolde smiled sadly.

  "Yeah. Watching how people can treat you, Thal, taught me a couple of things. The difference is I can hide these. Let people assume. Some of your quirks aren't easily concealed." I shrugged. It felt like it was becoming my default position.

  Isolde folded her wings from sight and went to the door to get the others. Fidelma tried to get to her feet but stumbled. I moved to her weaker side. When they saw Fidelma and me walk past, McGuire directed us to the kitchen. It was then I saw we were in the SSC headquarters in Sydney. Being more pragmatic than other groups, the SCC was split into three divisions with separate bases.

  I was surprised to see Magistrate O'Conner there. He looked up and gave me a blinding smile. "I wanted to thank you for realizing I wouldn't have taken part in that charade last month unless I was under duress, Mr. Jardine. Without that, the Salafi Islamists allied with the Reformationists would have killed my family. I owe you their lives. I will, unfortunately, have to recuse myself from future cases involving you."

  "Do not think your actions are unappreciated, however. I have arranged for a form of delayed decision in cases involving you. All perfectly legal. From now on if you are active on a case, private or SSC, charges laid against you will be 'Pending' until the case is completed. It is not just your actions in this case, but several others that allowed this provision to apply to you."

  He rose and left the room. I had to wonder about that. There had to be a hook in there somewhere, even if I couldn't see it.

  McGuire tapped on one of the shuttered windows in the kitchen. I frowned, that hadn't been here last time I was. It opened, and a familiar spunky brunette face appeared behind it. Anita. I could also feel the portal magic emanating from it. It made me a little queasy.

  "This was such a good idea, Sergeant. I'll go get Sid." She bustled off. I turned and looked at McGuire.

  He shrugged. "It was Taylor's idea. Something about franchising. He gets a 50% cut after expenses. Sid's looking for another Gastronomancer to help out. Taylor wants to experiment more with portal magic. He's got 'em stable, but they aren't a joy to travel through." A grimace crossed his face.

  Sid smiled through the window. "It's good to see you up and about, Thal." He eyed everyone and grinned. Then bustled off, shouting orders to his... assistants? He'd never hired anyone to help before. Something I'd have to find out later.

  I also discovered from the Sergeant that not much of my equipment had been recovered. None of the potions had been - although many distilled and purified components of them had been found, at a deranged alchemist's house. That was really annoying. About a million bucks worth of supplies down the drain. Even with the distilled components, it would cost me about half that much to replace those potions. Alchemists hated working in small batches and charged a premium for preparing them these days.

  More worrying in some ways was my specialty weapons. They'd probably left the country by now. Someone could cause real damage with three or four of them. Most of them would just lower the vampire and infective werewolf populations of wherever they ended up. Still, that was another dozen things I had to replace.

  McGuire cleared his throat. "Your grandmother told me about a letter she gave you. I found it and have organized a meeting with the relevant authorities. The Pope's representative has been cooling his heels for five days now and is getting antsy."

  I groaned. The last thing I wanted was a meeting with religious heads. "Screw that. I have..." there were expectant looks from around the table. "What? I don't want to be the negotiator for a new treaty. 'Specially when I'm sure they'll just go out and break it. Besides, to really negotiate it we'd need a representative of the other side. When they find out about what happened..." Marius looked at me and shrugged.

  "They already know. I've been picked to represent them. But their condition is that you negotiate on behalf of all injured parties. They're scared of you, son." He said the last with a grin on his face. "You're the first person in millennia to be touched by Azrael and live."

  "Wait... what? I'm missing a big goddone thing here I feel." I was not telling them about my vision - no way, no how.

  They blinked, and Isolde stepped up. "You don't remember? In the crypt? When you... saved me? I...I took too much." She blushed, obviously embarrassed. "You were delirious. The madman started twitching, and Azrael appeared. You told him to take his due and pointed to the body on the floor. I think Marius was regaining consciousness at this point." Marius nodded. "Anyway, Azrae walked over and touched the evil man. He stopped twitching." She paused and drew a deep breath. "Then he picked you up and walked you to the entrance. After the Angel taken you, Fidelma woke and spoke to her Ancestor. Marius and I helped take Fidelma to the door and Cassandra tagged along."

  The Fury shrugged and said, "Without the chance to retrieve my Grace I have nowhere to go." She seemed to be feeling a mixture of sadness and relief.

  "Azrael was still there. Once the SSC turned up, he left. Enough people in the know about the supernatural saw it that and word spread fast."

  I don't remember how long I swore for. I remember I made everyone in the room pale at one point or another. There is no personal memory of what I said, though other have told me bits and pieces. I wasn't special. I was the Mongrel. Not someone to be crossed for sure, but not someone of extraordinary power.

  Then I realized something else. I'd never signed a contract with Fidelma. The entire job was a wash. I started cursing again and stormed out. Isolde followed me out. When I reached the garden at the center of the headquarters, I almost collapsed. I leaned against a tree. I'd lost the easy path. If I'd just kept being a mercenary, this all would have been different. Damn her curse. I'd been so sure, so overconfident, that I'd suppressed it. Nope. It had stung me all the same.

  What my Mother had told me just before I left home came back to me. I'd just had a fight with Dad, and she told me what he wouldn't. "You leave here, you need to know. Greed is a defense for you. When you were young and growing so fast, an oracle visited. She said the easy path for you would be the path of greed. 'Make sure he always requests pay,' she said. 'For any job he takes, he needs pay or a hard path he'll walk.' Your Da, he thinks you'll never be happy living that life. I thought you should know her words."

  I'd tried, tried so hard to keep to that. Partly by burying the memory deep, but maintaining the objective behind it clear in my mind. I'd stayed alone - done jobs for money that some would have done for free. Turned away those who couldn't pay. Most of all I'd buried why, even from myself. When I left home, within a month, Mum and Dad had moved to England. It all came flooding back to me. I wanted a comfortable life. That part of my life was now over. I'd taken and completed a job for no pay.

  I slid down the
tree, only to find Isolde standing over me. "Your family knows why you lived like you did," she said. "It wasn't some big secret. Gran knew the prophecy that your Mum told you, and she told me. The Norn had asked her permission before she gave it." Then she knelt beside me looking at the tears in my eyes. "Doesn't mean you can't keep charging people you know. You can still live life on your terms." I looked at her and shook my head. She hugged me with a loving attention I melted into.

  "That stopped the moment Azrael touched me an' I lived. People will seek me out now, sometimes for problems they could even solve themselves. You know that."

  "Nah. You keep doing what you have been. You forget that Gran owes you one if you renegotiate this treaty. She's the first person to threaten violence, but the last to join a war. I'm sure she can figure something out so only those that need you find you. Now get up off your arse and man up. The food should be here soon, and I'd like to eat it hot. Wouldn't you?"

  She held out her hand and helped me to my feet, and we walked back to the kitchen. I thought about what she'd told me as I walked. She was right. Mum had been wrong. I needed to man up and accept the responsibilities, whatever they were, of this new phase of life. At least it wouldn't be boring.

  Chapter 18

  Three days. Three days with arguments from the representatives of the church that they weren't responsible for the actions of 'one rogue Angel.' Three days of pointing out that authorities of the church, both personally, in the case of the Primarch of the Anglican Church of Australia, and as their representative, in the case of the Cardinal from Rome, had caused some of the mess. That their efforts to stop me breaking the curse and their status of the Earthly representative of the Angels under the Treaty made them responsible parties.

  Three days of boredom in a conference room. If this is what my responsibilities entailed, I'd had enough. I'd hoped for some excitement and instead was stuck in boring meetings that went in circles.

  The church controlled all assets used by the Angels making them directly culpable for any actions those Angels made.

  That their interference in my attempt to break the curse proved they knew that the treaty had been broken. I was on the verge of losing my temper and walking out. Fuck the consequences.

  Finally, after all, their attempts at legal obfuscation, at dodging responsibility for the actions of themselves and their organizations, I'd had enough. Since they refused to negotiate, I'd give them demands.

  I walked into the meeting with a list.

  "Right. You've been wasting Marius' and my time for long enough. In this country, you represent those who 'support' Angels by the treaty. We are not negotiating a new agreement, which you seem to have forgotten. We are seeking weregild for breaches of the treaty. We are negotiating an addendum to the existing agreement. You appear to treat this as seriously as you've treated Priests abusing children for the last fifty years. That is - not seriously enough. Setting up inadequate responses seems to be a pattern - for all of those in power in the Abrahamic religions."

  "So rather than continuing to attempt a dialog, I have written a list of demands, in collaboration with the SSC and Marius. Failure to accept them will result not only in the certification of all local church hunters being revoked but all priests and higher with knowledge of the supernatural being given thirty days to be transferred overseas and replaced with those without such knowledge."

  Both of these 'august' personages puffed up. Thankfully I'd had a plan. Gran had been absolutely thrilled at the idea of cursing the Eastburrow Baptists when I asked her to three days ago. Considering the constant abuse and heckling they gave, I had no qualms about it either.

  "Before you object, know that The Three Furies are listed as potential enforcers for treaty breaches. They gave an example of what might befall you." I passed across the news articles citing accidents and illnesses that had suddenly happened to the Eastburrows. As they read through them, the faces paled.

  "How you explain these changes to the Jewish officials is your problem. Same with the Islamic authorities, although I'd point out to them that they aren't innocent either. Their extremists were involved in an attack on the court system supporting the treaty."

  "First. There shall be no longer any Religious representatives on the Council of Laws. This is due to your failure to screen a Reformationist from your representation."

  "Second. Sixteen generations of weregild shall be paid, by the end of the week, to the person of Fidelma, descendant of Lothar of the Burnished Shield. This amount shall be no less than ten million dollars, although that sum is manifestly inadequate, it is consistent with the recompense due according to the treaty. Further, The Damned have agreed to release the souls of those cursed, on the condition they also do not gain entry into Heaven. Final designation of their afterlife or reincarnation is to be left to them, excluding Heaven and Hell."

  "Third. The Damned insist on five years of 'Soul Games' where Angels and Demons compete for the souls of people rather than direct confrontation. These games must still abide by the existing terms of the Treaty. Including - but not limited to – the absences of introduction to the supernatural by the Damned or the Graced."

  "Fourth. At the insistence of the SSC, all hunters and preachers with knowledge of the supernatural must be screened by an acknowledged neutral at the expense of the churches. Any Reformationist found in this investigation will have all assets seized apart from the price of a plane ticket to Europe. If they refuse to leave, they will face punishment by local authorities up to and including execution."

  "Fifth. The Reformationists are considered a Church-inspired problem, and therefore the church has future responsibilities regarding them. They shall be targets of opportunity for all hunters, with lethal force permitted. Bounty shall be determined on an individual target basis by the Council of Laws and paid by the Church."

  "So ends the demands of the Neutral section of these negotiations. I will leave you to discuss with the other representatives any other terms you wish to include."

  With that I turned on my heel and walked out, leaving a copy of the demands on the table.

  Six hours later I was called back to the conference room. They had agreed to the demands and had summoned an Archangel to sign the document. The Angel eyed me with wary respect. It was evident that he'd helped intimidate the two self-interested prelates. With nibbed dipping pens we all signed the addendum in blood, with Magistrate O'Conner signing for the SCC, me for the neutrals and... well, you get the idea. That Marius could sign on behalf of Hell merely showed that his father had more status down there than I'd thought. He was still on the Neutral lists... I'd checked while I was waiting for six hours.

  Then the prelates spoke. "Regarding article four, the chosen neutral is you. You will be diligent and uncompromising in fulfilling this task, we have no doubt." The Anglican Primarch looked genuinely sincere. The Catholic Cardinal had a slight sneer on his face, almost as if he knew I didn't want the job.

  I smiled and said. "Right then. Clear the room of the others. If I'm to do this, I might as well start here." I pointed to the prelates. "You two, stay."

  Unfortunately, the worst that could be said of the Cardinal was that he was mean-spirited and a member of Opus Dei. Ah well.

  Chapter 19

  For the next two months, I was hopping from town to town completing the contract. At five hundred a day plus expenses it really didn't seem worth it, but the SSC had me check all their hunters while I was at it too. I was still annoyed that my position as Neutral representative, by custom, had meant I couldn't claim damages. Life really wasn't fair sometimes. Best you learn that now or you will be disappointed.

  At least for the registered hunters, Australia had no Reformationists left - over two hundred had been found. Strip searching as many people as I had in the past months got old quickly. And some of the tattoos had been placed strategically. After the first half dozen was executed for crimes for which they'd kept souveniers (one of them had a unicorn's horn for fuck's
sake - if the SSC hadn't killed her the Elves would have tortured and killed her) the rest decided leaving was a good option.

  I'll still never understand why members of a criminal or fringe group feel it necessary to put permanent identifiers on themselves. I wasn't assuming we'd caught them all, but many of these groups took that sort of thing to fetish levels. It was a safe bet that those who remained were few and unsupported.

  It would be good to get home.

  As I drove up to the house, having finally made it home, I felt a small dread at what it would be like. I definitely did not expect one of the Brownies to hop on the hood. I opened the door and stepped out of the car. Its cheerful voice assaulted my ears.

  "Come, come. Bigger house, nicer house. Good housemates." He said in a birdlike voice. I was confused. Isolde counted as a house-mate. Not house-mates. I guessed she was covered by the kin-rule, and the Brownies might have shown themselves to her.

  Unfortunately, my curiosity is strong, and I was tired. That's my only excuse for not jumping back in the ute and re-locating. Telling Isolde where to find me so I could train her when I found somewhere else. I like being alone. Housemates were not a good idea for someone like me - especially someone who had a heaping help of new shit in his life to sort.

  But I had to know who else he was talking about. I unlocked the door and walked inside. When I saw the woman in the kitchen, I froze. Long red hair - check. Pale skin - check. Great body - check. Warm smile on her face when she saw me - this was unexplored territory. It was, of course, Fidelma. I don't know if I was more shocked to see her, or that the brownie was still sitting comfortably on my shoulder. She definitely wasn't covered by the kin rule. Now that her curse was gone she should be off rebuilding her life or starting a new one.