by Livia Quinn
“Hardly. There’s something really wrong with him, Jack. He’s…not my little brother anymore.”
His harsh laugh had me rethinking bringing the subject up. “We all change, don’t we?”
“That’s not what I mean. And there’s something like him—dark and scary—at Harmony.”
His voice was more urgent now. “Do you need me to come over there and get it out.”
My mouth fell open at his immediate response. He wanted to come to my rescue! was my first thought, and It was his job to rescue people, was the second. “Thanks, but I’m having Elvis Presley come in tonight to do a cleansing ritual. I don’t know what to do about River. I talked to Dylan about it earlier.”
“Elvis who? No. Don’t tell me. I don’t even want to know. So, Dylan’s human again. When did that happen… I mean, how is he?” He seemed genuinely concerned, perhaps because of his own situation.
I laughed. “He’s so much the same, Jack. Diablo has returned but apparently his Finrir is gone. He’s going to help me with the ceremony tonight.”
Another pause, then, “What can he do that I can’t?” Uuh, boy. Maybe I shouldn’t have told him. On second thought maybe it had been just the thing to do.
“The cleansing requires two people who have a connection to River, and to each other.” Okay so I made that part up. “I felt this sense of wrongness before River came to see me and when he left, it got stronger.” A whole lot stronger.
“I…see,” he said, though obviously he didn’t. “Hmph. Well, just don’t let Jordie get into any trouble tonight, okay? I’ve got a lot going on today and I know she’s safe in your hands.”
You’re a fine one to talk, Mr. Absentiastan. Jane hadn’t entirely off-base. “Yes, she is. Hope everything goes well with the listing.”
“Thanks, I’ll see you later,” he said, absently and hung up.
“Maybe you will and maybe you won’t,” I said to myself as I headed over to Timmie’s house to put my plan in motion.
Chapter 32
The words, “Watch my toes” were on my dragon tongue as the blade came down.
Jack
I called my parents’ while I waited for the realtor to arrive, but all I got was their standard message. I wondered if they’d been called away.
As I surveyed the living room with its dark green interior, I was assailed by memories—the night Tempe and I found Jordie ill, the fairy dog curled up protectively on her bed; making love after the Mardi Gras ball culminating in Tempe’s spectacular fireworks above the bed. And just minutes later, Georgeanne showed up on my doorstep and Tempe took off.
A deep ache returned to my chest, one that had been absent in recent months, a reminder of my feelings for her and what she’d been through with Jordie and me.
Fresh on the heels of those memories was the last night we’d been together, when it seemed I’d finally found my place, known I could handle anything as long as she was standing beside me. Then, my life had gone FUBAR.
The man staring back at me now in the hallway mirror had my face, but I knew I was different. When I’d seen myself morphing in the bathroom that night, I had no way of knowing how much my life would change. Who was I now? A screwed-up dragon with defective wings? A man who’d lost his purpose?
Conor was right; the problem was in my head. I was the one with unrealistic expectations and a dream I’d never completely given up on, being able to fly again. Jordie had actually been thrilled with my dragon as is. So had Tempe, who hadn’t walked away from me due to my defect, but may yet if I didn’t get my ass on the stick.
It was time I put that dream aside and dealt with reality. This might be all there was. Could I live with that?
Hell, yes. Not only that, I was grateful that Jordie and I had finally found a home, and that I knew the truth about my life. Hopefully, I hadn’t waited too long to convince my sweetheart that I needed, yes, needed her. The realization hit me like a Tempe bolt of lightning.
Tempe was what my life was missing. If I hadn’t shut her out, she would never have let me get away with this escapism for so long. Amazing what some old-fashioned jealousy could do to clear a man’s head.
I heard a noise outside and parted the curtain to see a big F-250 with a sign that read, West End Realty. A hulking figure got out of the truck and I wondered if he was going to fit through my front door. As he lumbered up the sidewalk I spotted Ryan’s car turning at the end of the street.
I opened the front door and as soon as the realtor stepped onto the porch I knew he wasn’t human. He must have been using some kind of glamour, and not very well if this form is what he’d chosen. Maybe he thought he was a handsome young professional or a beautiful female real estate salesperson. Either way, he’d missed it. His thick gray green skin was growing, like a Chia pet, and as the glamour failed I saw his bulging eyeball wobble at the top of his fleshy face.
Concerned about Ryan’s arrival, I invited the creature in and shut the door, pretending to fall for the creature’s ruse and stalled for time. “Would you mind showing me your credentials?”
He grunted. Exploring my options, and knowing shifting wasn’t a good one in this small space, I was relieved to see him reach for his wallet. Hell, who’s to say there weren’t supernatural real estate agents around, even big ugly ones. Just because he was inept at covering his looks…but then he shoved me with one plate-sized hand. I staggered down the hall as he launched himself forward, that pupil glowing with what I took as glee. “Arggh,” he said as he stomped toward me. Or maybe it was anger.
The thing did a Hulk impression exploding out of its clothes and growing toward the ceiling until all eleven feet of it was looking down at me.
I heard Ryan at the front door just as holes popped open on its face followed by teeth. Shit, it had five mouths. Once again, I hesitated to shift, not wanting to ruin my house or freak Ryan out.
I didn’t want to be pulled into five equal pieces and eaten either so I reached for my gun, but it wasn’t in the holster. It lay several feet away against the leg of the couch. The creature swayed from side to side waiting for me to make a move, or preparing to jump. I was going to have to shift.
“Jack, what the—” Ryan was standing in the foyer. The giant heard him and turned.
“Ryan, get out of here,” I yelled, but he was frozen in place, mouth hanging open as he watched the hulking thing stalk toward him, dragging its feet through my carpet like razors. So much for the house.
Three things happened at once. I shifted and crouched. Ryan pulled his weapon and started firing. Then, I heard Dylan’s voice behind me shout, “Ryan, go for its groin!” Ryan heard him and obeyed instinctively.
I was looking down at the scene from my greater height, forced to crouch with my back against the twelve-foot ceiling. The creature gurgled and hissed as it toppled to the floor. Ryan was reloading with shaking hands then Dylan appeared next to me with a long sharp sword. I raised my clawed foot and slammed it down on the being’s head hearing the loud crrack of its vertebrae and possibly the skull.
Dylan raised the sword high. The words, “Watch my toes,” were on my dragon tongue but didn’t come out anywhere close. Before the blade slammed down I moved my foot back, and the severed head rolled away from the body.
“You’re welcome, S-man. Now, get that and bring it outside,” Dylan said as he nodded toward the creature’s head. My claws popped out and I skewered the skull. The wobbly eye made a buzzing sound and I felt an urgency to put an end to this monster, but when I looked up, Ryan stood there staring at me, gun still aimed.
He wasn’t going to shoot me, was he?
Dylan appeared behind me in the doorway. “Easy, Ryan. Jack, can you shift back?”
I did though, of course, there was the usual dilemma, but it didn’t phase Dylan who motioned for me to follow him to the backyard. I held up my other hand as Ryan’s mouth worked. “Hold that thought, Stones.” Ryan trailed like a mindless acolyte behind me as I ran to the pit and placed the vibr
ating skull on the grill.
“Can you breathe fire?” Dylan asked and I heard Ryan choke behind me.
I glanced at him quickly, “No,” then watched for the judgment to appear in Dylan’s eyes, but he surprised me.
“What about a butane charcoal tank?”
“I’ll get it.” Ryan was dealing and looking more like himself as I lit the butane nozzle and handed it to Dylan who held it against the skull. After a few long seconds it crumpled in on itself but Dylan didn’t quit until it lay in ashes on the bottom.
When all signs of fire were out, I turned to find Ryan studying me as if he didn’t know me anymore. Dylan noticed. “I’ll let you ladies chat while I check on the variant’s leftovers inside.”
He brushed by my deputy and as soon as the screen door slammed behind him, I let out a sigh. Ryan’s expression had gone from shocked to thoughtful but I had no idea what he was thinking.
“Ryan? Are you in there?” I waved my hand in front of his face. I couldn’t believe he was that shaken considering he’d already seen Conor in his dragon form as well as some other creatures during the Para-moon. But this was me, someone he thought he knew as well as I did. And we see how that turned out.
He shook his head. “It’s not—” he cursed and tried again, running his hand through his hair. “Am I sane?”
I grunted, “Believe me I’ve asked myself that question a dozen times a day since February. However, becoming a dragon was kind of a final wakeup call.”
“But… how… I mean, did you know when we were in the service? And uh, you should probably get dressed before the neighbors come out and see what the commotion was abou—” his voice trailed off as the gate opened and a tall skinny man in a top hat and tails appeared at my side. My eyes narrowed as I recognized Timmie the flasher. He apparently had another look.
“Your clothing, Suh,” he said in a heavy British accent and bowed elegantly.
I looked at Ryan whose mouth was agape once again. “What—who is he?”
“Oh, him? He’s my valet. Thank you, Tim. You may go,” I said, having fun with Ryan. I expected Timmie to walk back out the way he came but he shifted into a large black spider and scampered off toward the flowerbed. At least he hadn’t run off naked like so many of my other valets. This one might have promise.
Ryan laughed, “Are you sure I’m not crazy?”
I laughed as I zipped up my pants. “I think I’ve said this before but it never applied more than now, Ryan. Welcome to the real Destiny. Now you can make a proper decision about whether you want to stay or go.” He nodded. “Let’s go inside and see if Dylan needs any help. Why did you come by—and thanks by the way?”
“I have an update,” Ryan said.
Dylan was sweeping up the giant’s remains in the hallway. I asked, “What was that thing, anyway?”
Dylan took the dustpan to the kitchen and dumped the remains. “A Slygood, of the giant species.”
“So do you turn into a dragon, too?” Ryan asked.
Dylan shrugged his shoulders and said, “Nah, I’m a wolf.”
“You mean like… a werewolf?” Ryan asked.
Dylan huffed and answered with his usual cool, “Not like in the movies, Kirkwood. For now, I’m just a four-legged wolf or a man.”
And just like that, he’d accepted his fate, after losing as fierce a supernatural creature as I’d ever seen. If I lived to be Diablo’s age, maybe I’d have that same imperturbability. I frowned. “What are you doing, here, Dylan? I mean I’m grateful but…”
“Dutch contacted me about staying on your six. He thinks he saw a dragon hunter.” He nodded at the scarred carpet. “Slygoods are mindless mercenary types.”
“What?” Now I was nervous. To think I might be hunted…by a supernatural mercenary killer. “How did you expect to slay a dragon hunter well as, you know…”
“Just a human?” Dylan grinned, “Teamwork, or course.” He looked from Ryan to me. “Isn’t that the way we fly?” He’d chosen the right words.
Ryan snapped to attention, saluted and yelled, “Hoo-yah!”
“Seems like dragon hunters would be more worried about taking down someone like Conor than a flightless dragon like me.”
“Damn, Jack,” Ryan said, understanding immediately. “I need a sit-rep.”
I nodded. “I’ll give you the short version. Conor, Dylan, Montana and Tempe are Paramortals, what I call good POPs or people of power.” Dylan rolled his eyes. “POPs come in all varieties. The Slygood was a bad POP. If you still want to know more I’ll fill you in after we take care of a few things. Do me a favor and get the mail out of my box?” Ryan nodded.
We’d finished disposing of the giant’s remains and stepped out onto the sidewalk with Dylan explaining the intricacies of hired mercenaries within the variant ranks, when I saw Ryan draw his gun and aim it at my mailbox.
Chapter 33
The fairy troupe was huddled in an orgy of pink flesh
Jack
“Stay back, Jack.” A chorus of high-pitched shrieks came from inside the mailbox where Ryan’s gun was aimed.
I saw a terrible massacre looming, “Ryan, wait.” The gun barrel stayed steady on whatever was in the box. “Ryan, it’s okay. Really. Put the gun down.”
“Like hell.” He gritted out of a clenched jaw. He was determined to protect me from this peewee supernatural threat. I peered into the mailbox. The fairy troupe, an even dozen of them, was huddled in an orgy of pink flesh against the back wall. Shivering, whimpering, and naked. Let me tell you, there are few things less palatable to the eye than a naked fairy troupe. Thing is, like most fae, they don’t seem to realize it.
I doubted a gun could have killed them but it was sure to be bloody and besides, they were genuinely petrified. Maybe the reason they were so far back in the box was the iron in Ryan’s gun. Fairies are seriously allergic to iron according to Tempe. “Okay, quit cowering and relax. You too, Stones.” I nodded at Ryan who slowly lowered his gun.
“You know these… uh…?” He motioned with his gun, not pointing at the tiny folk directly.
“Yes. Ryan, meet the Fairy Troupe, they’re good POPs. Fairy Troupe, meet Ryan. So, guys? What’s up?”
Their squeaky voices cried, in unison, “Up, what’s up? Not up, under. Manisunder.”
“What’s a mini-sunder?” Ryan asked but I jerked back and anticipation spiked through me.
“What do you know about Manny?” I barked. They flinched. When the troupe spoke again, each fairy spoke a single word of the sentence sequentially, and this time I didn’t have a problem understanding.
“Manny… Manny… is… under…under…the… water… in… Tempest’s… swamp… the… Forge.” Apparently each fairy had to have his own word, thus, the repeats.
I clarified, “Are you saying Manny Martinez is in the big swamp at the back of Tempe’s property, next to the fairgrounds?” A chorus of yessssses came out sounding like a mad snake.
Ryan asked, “Are they saying the perp dumped Martinez’ body there?”
Dylan leaned in with his hand on my shoulder, “I’ll get my dive gear and meet you there.” He added, “I spent some time in ASR.” Air Sea Rescue. Things were finally going our way.
We watched him climb into the black SUV then I grabbed a sign from the back of my unit marked, For Sale by Owner. I grinned at Ryan, “I’m having a ‘Sheriff’s sale’. I’ll fix the house up later.”
I pounded the sign into the grass and turned back to Ryan, “Looks like we might have caught a break on the case, Ryan. Make sure we have eyes on our suspects but make no contact until we get everything in place.”
Ryan knew as well as I did that there was only one suspect—Karrakas. He flipped his lights on and headed toward Enchanted Glen.
There’d been something in the back of my mind since I’d read the report about a foul smell near the beach at the fairgrounds, but I’d been preoccupied and put it down to a fish kill from the heat. I’d bet dollars to donuts, and a cop doesn�
��t bet on donuts easily, that we’d find Manny’s body at that location.
I drove across the fairgrounds to the swamp and saw the electric company truck setting up lights in case the search extended past dark. Another unit, the M.E.’s car and Rafe and Montana’s ambulance were parked about a hundred yards from the bank. A man in diving equipment stood at the edge of the brushy area, taking a break.
Montana waved at me from the back door of the ambulance and then someone yelled. We both turned as Dylan’s head broke the surface of the water. He removed his mask, tossing it to the other diver. I ran into the water to help them pull the water logged body onto dry ground. Dylan threw something onto the bank—a black jogging shoe. It landed next to the body’s bare feet.
Damn. As much as I’d been expecting it, I still hated that I would have to deliver this news to Terry Martinez. I liked the woman. They were good people. It was the part of my job I’d always hated, seeing the hope fade from a loved one’s eyes.
Montana grabbed her gear and knelt by the man though it was clear to everyone on the site that there was no hope. Dan indicated to Rafe he should bring a body bag.
I was fairly sure we were one step closer to nailing the Karrakas woman for, at the very least, the murder of her lawnman. Now to get the verification from Dan and tie up the loose ends.
It didn’t take long. A short time after he returned to his office he called, “Your victim matches the dental records, Sheriff. It’s Manuel Martinez.”
Jack
Ryan was working a wreck when I gave him the news. He told me a fax had come through earlier at the office regarding the invoice on Karrakas’ chemicals. This was what I’d been waiting for, something to tie the Karrakases to Manny’s murder.
“I’ll check with Peggy then I’m headed over to their house.”
Peggy summarized the fax for me, “The same substance that was used on the gator and your clubhouse victim in February was also used on Mr. Martinez. That poison as identified by the ME is on this invoice from the garden supply to Anita Karrakas.”
“Gotcha,” I muttered with a feral grin. “Have Ryan meet me there when he can leave the accident scene.” Karrakas had been the purchaser of the poison used on all three victims and, if not the one behind River’s kidnapping, at least involved. I couldn’t help it. I was looking forward to this little confrontation as much as anything since the Chaos.
