“I think the Randy Rump is still closed I think. Besides, Jim would prefer we called first before popping by. He mentioned something about activating the extra security the last time I spoke to him.”
“I was thinking a little older and less alive.”
“Oh, that expert.”
FOURTEEN
I opened the rear door to the Dark Goat and let Peaches, the sprawlmaster, climb in. The suspension creaked and the car listed slightly to one side, as my hellhound adjusted to the backseat and took up all of the room.
I shook my head in amazement, sliding in behind the wheel, and shaking off what I called the DG skin crawl. Peaches was going to be too large for the Dark Goat soon.
“I need a moment to recalibrate some of these runes,” Monty said as he touched some of the symbols on the dashboard. “Olga informed me one of the new attendants tried to move the vehicle a few days ago. He’s still in intensive care.”
“She didn’t tell them?” I asked, surprised. “I spoke to her.”
“Every attendant knows to leave this vehicle alone,” Monty said, gesturing as violet symbols floated from his fingers and landed on the dashboard. “The one in question chose not to, opting to drive it into a parking space.”
“Sounds like some kind of prank. Maybe you should have a word with the attendants?”
“I shall. The last thing we need is a vehicular casualty due to immature behavior,” Monty said. “It appears this young man didn’t believe the warnings.”
“I’m sure he’s believing now,” I said. “Is he going to be okay?”
“Olga tells me he went prematurely gray. He was removed from the vehicle in a near catatonic state, babbling something about demons. Other than that, he should be fine.”
I stared at the gesturing Monty for a few seconds.
“Sounds like he got lucky,” I said after a few moments. “DG almost toasted him.”
“Indeed. Are you certain you want to name it the ‘Dark Goat’? It sounds ominous.”
“Because it is,” I said. “People get creeped out just walking by it, forget about driving it. I get the skin crawl every time and I’m cursed. Don’t you feel off, getting in the Dark Goat?”
“Are you wondering if I ‘get off’ riding in a potential death machine?”
“When you put it like that it sounds dirty,” I said. “You know what I mean. Don’t your mage super powers pick up on the energy signals it gives off?”
“I’m aware of its…properties,” Monty answered, still dealing with the dash. “I’ve felt worse. I do know better than to try and drive this vehicle though. I’m a mage, not insane.”
“I thought those two words explained the same condition?”
“In some cases, yes. Not in mine.”
“Not yet?”
“Not ever,” Monty affirmed. “I’m in full possession of my faculties and intend to remain that way.”
“Usually when someone has to explain they are in full possession of their faculties…they aren’t.”
“I didn’t know you also dabbled in psychology,” Monty said with a glance. “Where did you study?”
“You may have heard of it…UMAD? The University of Mages Are Deranged? I’ve had plenty of real world experience ever since I started there. Very exclusive. Beyond Ivy League.”
“I’m certain it’s beyond. Just like the name of this car.”
“I think the Dark Goat sounds perfect. Driver’s choice.”
He waved my words away as he kept calibrating the symbols.
I thought about an angry hellhound roaming the streets of New York City. I imagined the devastation and destruction…it was a brief, scary thought.
I shook my head.
Peaches gave off a low rumble that ended with a small bark, rocking the Dark Goat on its suspension.
“Something the matter with your creature?” Monty asked, glancing into the rear seat. “He seems upset. Does he need meat?”
“No,” I said, looking into the rear-view mirror. “He’s getting out of shape as it is. And no, round is not the shape he needs to get into. I need to put him on a low-fat diet.”
“Not sure if I can create low-fat sausage,” Monty answered, thoughtfully. “I suppose I could give it a try. I’d prefer to avoid another deathane incident. Especially in an enclosed space, like the greater tri-state area.”
“We are going to need to stop by The Dive one of these days,” I said, letting some menace creep into my voice. “I need to have a conversation with a certain mage lizard.”
“Grey and his group are not exactly keen on visitors of the violent sort,” Monty said. “If you intend on visiting bodily harm to Frank, I suggest you reconsider. He may look like a lizard, but I can assure you, he is a mage of some ability. The fact that he is alive and in possession of his senses, even after a failed transmogrification, speaks to his considerable skill.”
“No bodily harm,” I said, shaking my head slowly. “Just a conversation about the kind of information he’s sharing with my hellhound. This whole Brew and Chew thing is a horrible idea.”
“Weren’t you saved by Cecelia, two canines—I use the term canines loosely—and said mage lizard?” Monty asked. “This occurred not too long ago if I recall.”
“You mean the young Jotnar ice mage, her guardian-protector-dog-beast, my hellhound, and a mage lizard?” I asked. “I still think it’s a horrible idea, even if they did save me.”
“I see,” Monty said, barely suppressing a smile. “You’re upset about your hellhound’s associa
tion with the very creatures that saved you?”
“That, and if he keeps up the hellhound diet of digestive destruction, the Dark Goat is going to be the Broken Goat,” I snapped. “Frank said I have him in sweatshop conditions, and that Peaches should sue me for providing insufficient meat. Sue me? Can you believe that little shit of a lizard?”
“Outrageous,” Monty said, barely keeping it together. “The travesty is inconceivable. Can hellhounds even get that sort of legal representation? Sounds like some kind of precedent is involved.”
“I’m glad this amuses you,” I said. “Are you done with your finger-wiggling?”
“Quite,” Monty said with a nod. “The runes have been recalibrated. At least those I could impact. The other runes Cecil inscribed are too dangerous to even attempt to manipulate.”
“That always makes me feel safe,” I said, starting the engine with a roar. “Are the murdery runes payback for the London Lambo? Is Cecil trying to get back at us?”
“I’m sure he’s displeased with the destruction of the vehicle in London. It was an experimental model. An expensive one.”
“What was he thinking giving us an experimental model? Even I wouldn’t give us an experimental anything. Especially a Lambo.”
“Clearly, he learned his lesson, hence this vehicle with incredibly dangerous and volatile runes,” Monty replied. “Good thing he doesn’t hold grudges against your destructive tendencies.”
“My destructive tendencies? For the record, I didn’t get the Goat melted.”
“Nor did I.”
“Right, the Magistrate just happened to be in the neighborhood and accidentally sent that orb of destruction our way,” I said. “It’s probably all a huge misunderstanding.”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Monty said. “Although that orb was excessive.”
“Why would Cecil hold a grudge? It was one Lamborghini, and it was out of our control.”
It was Monty’s turn to stare at me.
“Actually it was two Lamborghinis,” Monty corrected. “You did destroy one during your ill-fated ‘date’, if memory serves.”
“That wasn’t my fault,” I said. “The Aventador was blown up by an angry troll, if you recall. Actually, neither one was my fault. The Urus was one of those London tracker demons.”
“The tracker demon was not particular to London. I’m sure Cecil installed the new runes to keep us safe from experiencing a fate similar to the first iteration of this vehicle.”
“The Goat was melted by your Golden Circle magistrate buddies.”
“While the vehicle was in our possession,” Monty added. “I’m sure you could explain all of the details to Cecil.”
“No, thanks. He’d probably just add more murder runes.”
“I doubt he could,” Monty said. “We are driving a veritable runic time bomb. Cecil is serious about trying to destroy the Beast. Or us.”
“Or both. So glad we could be his guinea pigs,” I said. “I’m really feeling that five star SuNaTran love. Why doesn’t he put death runes on his own car? Does he even have a car? I’ve never seen him drive a vehicle.”
“He does,” Monty said. “He would never put those runes on his personal vehicle.”
“Why?” I asked. “Is it too precious?”
“I’m sure it is, at least to him,” Monty answered. “Cecil drives the 1939 Duesenberg Simone Midnight Ghost.”
“No way,” I said, surprised. “There’s only one of those. If the rumors are true. How did he get it?”
“From Simone herself,” Monty said. “I’ve only seen him drive it once. It is truly an automotive work of art.”
“He didn’t rune it?” I asked. “Can’t it get damaged?”
“I didn’t say he wouldn’t rune it, just that he wouldn’t put the runes from our vehicle in the Midnight Ghost,” Monty said. “The runes he placed on the Duesenberg makes it indestructible, without the inherent threat of death.”
“Oh, he gave us the special ‘murder rune’ treatment,” I grumbled. “That was thoughtful.”
“I’m certain he felt justified, considering our past treatment of his vehicles.”
Cecil had made some major adjustments to the Dark Goat besides the scary murder runes that gave off a distinct ‘I will devour your soul’ vibe. Olga had initially notified us that all of the parking attendants from the building garage refused to go near the Dark Goat, but we didn’t know how serious it was.
I didn’t blame them.
Christine felt like a family-friendly car compared to the Dark Goat. The runes in and on it gave off a seriously angry, menacing energy. Every time I got behind the wheel, the energy in the vehicle felt like an army of fire ants gently chewing into my skin. On a good day.
Once I started the engine, the sensation dissipated, but I couldn’t imagine any of the attendants dealing with that feeling for longer than a few seconds. The fact that one of them tried to drive the Dark Goat, sounded like they were hazing the new guy.
That was a mistake.
I made sure to inform Olga that no one was to try and drive the Dark Goat, citing it was a rare classic, and I didn’t want any damage to it. The truth was if anyone besides me tried to drive it, they’d be removing the lifeless body of the daring parking attendant from behind the wheel.
The new guy was lucky.
Olga didn’t buy the ‘rare classic’ line and narrowed her eyes at the Dark Goat when she went down to resolve the attendants’ boycott about parking it. I had to tell her some of the truth, realizing she could see the murder runes Cecil had graced the exterior of the Goat with.
Her disapproval was clear when I informed her about some of the real dangers of anyone else trying to drive the Dark Goat. Shortly thereafter, Olga designated one of the corners of the garage as our parking space.
The new parking space was clearly demarcated with bright, safety orange designators, cones, and a thick chain attached to the walls. The Dark Goat was separated with plenty of space—enough for three vehicles— from all the other cars in the garage.
“You park and drive yourself, Stronk,” she said, with the usual mangling of my name while giving me a glare. “No kill my employees with your demon car.”
We sped out of the garage and headed to Ezra’s.
FIFTEEN
“How exactly is Ezra going to point us in the right direction?” I asked, swerving around traffic. “I mean, I know he’s Death, but what does that have to do with Fate?”
“Nothing, at the moment,” Monty answered. “I would imagine that he does, however, have a connection to Kali. Even if it is an indirect one.”
“Why? She’s the goddess of destruction, not death.”
“She is very similar to the Morrigan in many respects,” Monty said. “The aspect that I think pertains to our current situation, is her aspect as a form of Death.”
“You’re thinking they could have a Death-to-Death conversation?” I asked, feeling slightly confused. “Is Ezra the Death or just one of the many forms Death takes to deal with humans?”
“I don’t think many people interact with Ezra in that form as Death,” Monty answered. “Somehow, sitting in a deli and appearing as a Jewish scholar, doesn’t strike me as an ideal form for dispatching humans from this life.”
“At least you’d get an awesome lunch as your last meal…the place has sandwiches that could stop your heart,” I said. “Just from the amount of pastrami stuffed into them.”
“I think it’s a selling point, but an awkward method of ushering one into the afterlife.”
“True,” I said, narrowly missing a yellow taxi that wanted to trade paint with the Dark Goat…a losing proposition for said cab. “It’s not like Death is going to invite you out to lunch, then poof…you’re gone.”
“Seems a little inconvenient, I think,” Monty said. “I’m sure he takes on a different form. One more practical for final meetings.”
“Black robe, skull head, and sickle, then?”
“Death appe
ars to us as we need him to, I think,” Monty said. “Like Fate or Karma, Death is a being independent of gender and exists outside time. I’m sure he could adopt many different forms.”
“Yet he sits in a deli, studying old books and providing pastrami for my hellhound,” I said. “I’m going to ask him why.”
“Why he sits in a deli?”
“Why he appears as an old scholar and sits in a deli,” I said. “Maybe it’s the food?”
“Do you think Ezra needs to eat?”
“Probably not, but the food in the deli is incredible, I’d go so far as to say it’s delicious,” I said. “See what I did there? That’s called creative wordplay.”
“Staggering,” Monty replied. “Did you tax your brain cell to come up with that one?”
“Jealousy doesn’t suit you,” I said. “I know you wish you could handle words with my expertise.”
“It’s on my mind every waking moment,” Monty deadpanned. “How you manage to exacerbate the danger of precarious situations into the realms of immediate lethality, with just your words. Boggles the imagination.”
“I’ll teach you one day.”
“Let me check my schedule and see when I can fit that lesson in. The day after never seems about right.”
“Hilarious,” I said, looking up at the entrance of Ezra’s. “Maybe Ezra just likes being around the energy of the place? It’s always a bustle of activity. Could be all that life attracts Death.”
“How philosophical,” Monty said. “I doubt you’ll get an answer you can comprehend. The best we could hope for is a good meal and a cryptic response, knowing Ezra.”
We parked outside of Katz’s Deli on 1st Avenue. I never worried about the Dark Goat being ticketed, towed, or tampered with. Aside from the locks Cecil installed, which made it impervious to theft, the murder runes on the chassis gave anyone who stepped too close the immediate desire of sprinting away, and screaming while doing so.
In addition, Ramirez had placed a DNA-Do Not Approach warning on it. The Dark Goat was one of only two vehicles in the city, to my knowledge, with such a warning. The other belonged to Grey and his Beast of a Camaro. Now, that car was seriously scary.
Dark Glass: A Montague and Strong Detective Agency Novel Page 9
