Junkyard Druid: A New Adult Urban Fantasy Novel (The Colin McCool Paranormal Suspense Series Book 1)

by Massey,M. D.

  Hemi was in damned good shape, as evidenced by the fact that he wasn’t even breathing hard as he came out for the third round. He probed my defense using his jab and long reach, then he surprised me by coming in under my punch combo with a single leg takedown that was nearly textbook. Soon I was scrambling on my back and Hemi was raining blows down on me like Goibniu hammering away at his forge. I weathered the storm and pulled him into a closed guard position, not wanting to play open guard with such a giant of a man. As soon as I did, Hemi stood up and slammed me on the canvas, once, twice, and a third time for good measure.

  Well, this is turning out to be a pretty decent match, I thought as my head bounced off the canvas a final time. By this point he was in need of a breather, since all that effort had taken a lot out of him. So, moved my hips out slightly and transitioned to his back while he was winded. I pounded on him a little bit from back mount, because he was smart and guarded his neck fairly well, but eventually he gave me an opening and I was able to choke him into submission.

  After he tapped, we went a few more rounds. In the final round he caught me with a left hook, right cross, switch round kick combo that knocked me silly. I had to hand it to him: for a big guy he could really move. I recovered, and we stalemated in the clinch until the buzzer sounded.

  Five rounds was enough for me, and I decided to call it quits and head home. Hemi stopped me when I exited the locker room and shook my hand.

  “You got a mean right hand, and your jiu-jitsu is sick as, yeah? Why don’t I see your name on any of the fight rosters for coming events?”

  I smiled. “Well, I’m retired.”

  “You look awful young to be retired, cuz.” Hemi wasn’t dumb, apparently.

  “I decided to go to school instead of pursuing a career in fighting. Keep my mom off my back.”

  He nodded. “Yeah, nah bro, I get it. Next time you wanna smash though, you let me know, yeah?”

  “Same here, Hemi. And if you need anyone to show you around town, just ask Talyn for my number. He knows how to find me.”

  “Chur—I mean thanks, mate.” We did the bro handshake, and as I did my fingers brushed one of the elaborate tattoos on his forearm. I felt a slight shock as a powerful ward or spell woven into the tattoo reacted to my touch. It’d been covered up by Hemi’s rash guard while we’d been rolling, which was probably why I hadn’t noticed it before.

  I knew little about Maori culture or folklore, so I didn’t know what to make of the big man’s magic. I decided to just let it go, because he was obviously a nice guy and he might not even know he was magically warded. For all I knew, he had a family member or friend who was a shaman and just trying to keep him safe. I wished him well and headed back to the junkyard to regroup and determine my next steps.

  11

  Journal Entry—Nine Months, One Day A.J.

  Well, that went well. Apparently I am persona non grata with those Cold Iron Circle jerks.

  Hah! “Circle jerks.” See what I did there?

  Anyway, when I showed up at their HQ, you’d have thought that the devil himself had walked through their doors. No sooner had I hit the lobby in their building then they had a group of black clad security types escorting me out. Forcefully. It was quite a scene. Since they occupy the top four floors of an office building in downtown Austin, all secret and unbeknownst to the mundane inhabitants, I had a captive audience of a few dozen office workers as they walked me outside like some crazy person.

  Long story short, it seems they consider me to be some sort of magical nuclear weapon, and one with a hair-trigger detonator. Hashtag fml, right?

  Anyway, I met this really cool Circle hunter in training at La Crème, a coffee shop just a few blocks down from their headquarters. I walked in there to regroup and mope, and while I was lost in my cappuccino she plopped down at my table and started chatting me up. Said she saw what had happened, and that it was total bullshit how they’d treated me.

  I think she was coming on to me, but I’m not positive. Jesse was my first and only, well, you know. So I don’t have much experience with women. One thing’s for sure though: I am not ready to get into another relationship. Especially not while I’m still working things out with Jesse’s memory.

  And, potentially, her ghost.

  Where was I? Oh yeah. So this hunter, Belladonna, has offered to help me do my research. When I told her what was going on, she was cool enough to not give me the look. You know, that look everyone gives you when they find out you recently suffered a major tragedy? Yeah, that look.

  Well, just the fact that she’s not treating me with kid gloves has won me over to her. I’m going to take her up on her offer, and see if we can figure out what’s going on with my ghost… or whatever.

  Maybe it’s all in my head. I haven’t decided yet.

  -McC

  P.S. Dr. Larsen says I “deflect” and “compartmentalize my emotions” with humor and sarcasm. Maybe so, but if it keeps me from going all Mr. Hyde again, call me Dane freaking Cook.

  Austin, Texas—Present Day

  The next morning, I woke up a bit sore from the rounds I’d done with Hemi, but felt a lot less angry and in a better frame of mind for finding Maeve’s thief. After making some instant coffee (nasty, but caffeinated), I opened my laptop and pulled out the card Maeve had given me. Elias Henderson worked for a group that called themselves CIRCE, which apparently stood for Cryptid International Rescue CollectivE. While their website was vague as to how they went about rescuing creatures that officially didn’t exist, their contact page listed an address that was off West 15th—well within scooter distance.

  Since I didn’t have any classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays, I decided there was no time like the present to see what the hell these folks were up to. I grabbed my Craneskin Bag—checking to make sure I had a few goodies and surprises handy inside that great big spatial anomaly within—and went to see what CIRCE was about.

  As soon as I arrived at the address on the website, it became clear that someone with a lot of money was bankrolling this operation. Their offices comprised both floors of a rezoned and converted two-story home that was easily worth a cool million. And while they weren’t exactly advertising their location with a huge sign, their logo was etched in the front door glass for all to see. Intrigued, I parked my scooter and walked up the front walk like I belonged there. Since I didn’t see anyone spying on me from inside, I quickly walked behind the building to poke around before I made my presence officially known.

  Around the back of the building, I found a small parking area containing three late-model vehicles painted white with the CIRCE logo on the sides. One was an SUV, another was a panel van, and a third was a 24-foot moving truck. There was nothing to indicate what they used the vehicles for, or why they might have needed to have a company moving truck, for that matter. Finding nothing else of interest, I went back to the front of the building and walked in like I was supposed to be there.

  Before I got three steps into the foyer, a shrill voice called out from a doorway off to my right. “Oh, you must be the intern from the university! Come on in here, and I’ll be right with you.”

  I walked into the office and saw a plump, middle-aged woman with long, dirty-blonde braids sitting behind a desk with a phone receiver held up to her ear. The placard on her desk read “Margie Reynolds, Operations Coordinator.” She was wearing a tie-dye shirt with the CIRCE logo on the front, and behind her was a map of the U.S. with a variety of colored stick pins adorning it. She covered the mouthpiece and mouthed “Sorry,” then pointed to a water cooler and dorm fridge behind me and gestured I should take a seat. I did.

  I heard someone talking rather excitedly on the other end of the line. The woman nodded as she replied. “Yes, Mr. Graves, we’ve dealt with this sort of thing before. Mm-hmm, we have quite a bit of experience with amphibious creatures. Yes, they will keep eating your cattle, so I suggest that you remove those animals from the area and pasture them somewhere else until we can get
a team out there. No, I don’t have an estimate of when that will be just yet, but I’ll have one by this afternoon. Thank you for your patience. We’ll be in touch.”

  She hung up the phone and let out a long breath. “Phew! That man was really upset about his cattle.” Margie stood up and reached across the desk to shake my hand. “Margie Reynolds, and you must be—”

  “Colin, Colin McKenzie. Pleased to meet you, Margie.”

  Margie blinked a few times. “Oh, they told me they were sending a Kyle something or other, but that he wouldn’t be here until the second or third week of classes.”

  I decided to gamble on a wild-ass guess. “Kyle took an intern position with the San Antonio zoo, so I they gave me his place. But I can start today, if that’s okay.”

  Margie smiled. “Wonderful! Most of our staff is out in the field at the moment, but our director, Elias, is around here somewhere. I’ll get your paperwork started, and when Elias comes in he can handle your orientation. Sound good?”

  I nodded, and spent the next half-hour filling out employee intake forms with false information. Roughly the same time I finished, Elias walked in from the back and stood in the office doorway. Elias was medium height and build, nothing spectacular, with a man bun and wire-frame glasses. He wore a tan safari shirt with the CIRCE logo and an embroidered name tag, green cargo shorts, and Teva sandals.

  Margie introduced me. “Elias, this is your new intern, Colin. Colin, this is Elias. He’s our director, and heads up our field teams.”

  I stood and shook hands with him. “Ah, good,” he remarked, “they finally sent us an intern with some muscle. Some of the equipment we use is pretty heavy—shouldn’t give you too much trouble, though.”

  He looked at Margie. “When he’s done here, can you send Colin to the staging area?”

  “He’s already finished,” Margie stated. “Why don’t you take him out back and start his orientation now?”

  Elias nodded. “Alright. Follow me, Colin.”

  I trailed him down a short hall to a room that housed a number of large wire animal traps, as well as several man-sized cages welded out of angle iron and heavy steel mesh. The walls were lined with cattle prods, stun guns, tranquilizer guns, pneumatic net cannons, and animal control poles like the kind dog catchers used. Elias held his arms out and spun around in a circle.

  “This is our ready room, where we stage our teams before they head out to the field. Now, I hear you already have some field experience working with larger animals. Is that correct?”

  “You might say that,” I said and nodded. “Sure.”

  He walked behind a desk and sat down, then smiled again reassuringly. “Well, if you didn’t already you’ll get plenty here, don’t worry about that. We handle about three, maybe four cases a month. Sometimes they’re real cryptids, while other times it’s just a wild hog, a gator, or the odd mountain lion.”

  I raised my hand. “Excuse me—you said cryptids, right? As in mythological creatures?”

  “Oh they didn’t tell you? We’re on the cutting edge of research here at CIRCE, real mind-blowing stuff. The animals and species we deal with are unlike anything you’ll ever see in the academic world, and that’s because we’re the premier rescue and relocation operation for cryptids in the country. We take calls from all over. If they’re in Texas, New Mexico, Louisiana, or Oklahoma we usually drive to the incident site. But we have a chopper and a converted military transport plane on standby as well.”

  “But you said ‘cryptids.’ I’m still not sure exactly what you mean by that.”

  Elias’ eyes got wide, and he gesticulated freely as he spoke. “Oh, it’s really quite exciting! Now, don’t think you’re going to see one of these creatures on your first field expedition, but with the call volume we’re experiencing you’ll definitely see one your first month.”

  He began marking off species on his fingers as he spoke. “We’ve handled sasquatches, lycanthropes, vampires, a unicorn—you don’t see those every day—two chupacabras, a cockatrice, a wampus cat… and just last month we relocated a pair of selkies who were harassing crab fishing outfits off the coast of Alaska. Dangerous Catch indeed!” He struck the desk lightly with his fist, flashing me a cheesy grin.

  I nearly did a spit take with my water when I heard the word relocated. “Wait a minute—what do you mean ‘relocate’?” I asked.

  He leaned back in his chair and placed his hands behind his head. “Oh, we relocate all the cryptids we capture. Yes, our operation is purely catch and release. Our mission is to preserve the cryptid population, for the benefit of future generations.”

  I leaned forward and placed both hands on his desk. “Let me get this straight—you’re capturing vampires and werewolves, and relocating them? Where could you possibly take them that you can be certain they won’t kill again?”

  He frowned slightly at the tone of my voice. “You seem to know a lot about this sort of thing for a college student. Did Professor Cooper take my advice and start integrating a cryptid module into his course material?”

  I shrugged. “I’m a dual major—anthropology and biology.”

  Elias bobbed his head side to side. “Interesting choice for a dual-major. You should talk to Margie about career opportunities with CIRCE after your internship.

  “Now, to answer your question—of course we’re capturing them. I mean, what are we supposed to do, shoot them dead? These are endangered species we’re talking about here. And I think it goes without saying, whenever human expansion encroaches on the natural habitat of a predator species, there are going to be some casualties, no doubt about it. But it’s not the animal’s fault—they’re just doing what comes natural to them.”

  I sighed and shook my head. “You do realize that these creatures are capable of higher thought processes, right? I mean, they’re able to rationalize, and in most cases are just as intelligent if not more so than human beings.”

  He slapped his hands on the desk. “I know, isn’t it great? They’re absolutely fascinating. I mean, I could just sit and stare at a werewolf all day. They’re so feral, and yet so free.” He leaned in and whispered conspiratorially behind his hand. “Just between you and me, I’ve thought more than once about climbing into a cage with one and letting them turn me. But don’t tell Marge.”

  I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, and spoke with a dead serious look on my face. “I’m sure that wouldn’t turn out poorly for you at all.”

  Elias threw his hands up and clapped them together with glee. “Right? Who wouldn’t want super-strength and a few hundred years added to their lifespan?”

  “Um, someone who wasn’t clinically insane?” I whispered under my breath, perhaps a little too loudly.

  He did a double-take and laughed. “Oh, you’re funny Colin. You’re going to get on great here, for sure.”

  I sat down and placed my head in my hands. “Elias, can I ask what happened to the last intern who worked for you?”

  Elias looked perplexed. “How did you know—? Oh, of course. You had to have replaced someone, right? Rest assured, that young man’s family is being taken care of financially. We are very well funded, and our sponsors have deep pockets.”

  “That’s—comforting to know,” I replied. “Say, is there a restroom around here?”

  “Sure, right up the hall and to the left. You can’t miss it.”

  “Great. Be right back.” At this point I still had no idea whether Elias was directly involved with the theft of the Tathlum. However, my gut told me that it was unlikely, because he seemed way too clueless to pull off a heist like that. What I was sure of, though, was that he was batshit crazy.

  That being said, there was no way an operation like this was running off donations from grateful clients. From the sound of it, whoever was bankrolling them was both loaded and connected. CIRCE didn’t advertise publicly—who would believe them if they did?—and yet they were still being contacted regularly to handle supernatural creature infestations and sightings.
So, what I wanted to know was, who was pulling the strings behind the scenes?

  I headed down the hall toward the bathroom, and since there wasn’t a soul in sight I decided to sneak upstairs. I’d lucked out by showing up on a day when no one was around but Elias and Margie, so the second floor was completely unoccupied. I wandered around for a minute or so until I found a room labeled “Records and Accounting.” Locked. I cast a minor cantrip to unlock the door and ducked inside.

  Within a few minutes I’d located financial statements that indicated their bills were being paid by an entity calling itself “The Ananda Corporation.” I snapped some pictures of the documents with my cell phone, then straightened everything up and headed back downstairs. When I reentered the staging area, Elias was engrossed in looking at hentai on his laptop. He either didn’t realize I could see the reflection in his glasses, or he just didn’t care. Nasty.

  He glanced up from the computer screen to acknowledge my presence. “Oh, hey man, I thought for sure you’d bailed on us.”

  I feigned surprise. “Me? No way, this is the internship of my dreams. Naw, I just think I ate some bad tacos this morning. You mind if we pick this up tomorrow?”

  Elias shrugged. “Sure, no problem. Not much going in here. Margie just got a call from a rancher out in LaGrange who has some kappa eating his cows, but I’ll wait to check it out so you can ride along. Meet me here tomorrow around this time, and we’ll head out to the field so you can catch your first cryptid!”

  I bent my arm and made a fist, then punched the air in front of my chest. “Elias, I can hardly wait.”