by John Conroe
“Hey, kiddo, how do you feel today?”
A shit-eating grin lit up my face and nothing I could do would wipe it away. “Like that, is it?” he asked with a laugh.
I shrugged, still grinning like an idiot, but my path to the table was sidetracked by the covered plate of food on the counter. Four empty and tongue-cleaned plates were lined up on the floor underneath it, testimony to my were bear-wolf’s breakfast.
I grabbed the plate, filled a mug with coffee from the carafe on the counter, and moved to the dining table.
Gramps watched me get settled with my oversized plate of eggs, bacon, sausage, pancakes, and hash browns.
“You seem pretty good for a fella that took a .308 round to the head,” he noted as I started shoveling food into my face.
“I guess. I’d rather have some pain and scars but have my memory back,” I said around a mouthful of sausage.
“Don’t talk with your mouth full, boy,” he said automatically. “Listen, now that the ladies are all down for the day, this is a good chance for us to have a talk.”
I just nodded, choosing to keep the food intake at full steam rather than use any words.
“So I get a phone call yesterday that you’d been shot. Tanya called me herself, which was good, because if she believed you were physically okay, then I did, too. I knew she would move heaven and earth if need be. Then she sent a helicopter for me.” He shook his head as he spoke, like the memory still floored him. “Damn thing set down right in the north field. Brett and company were with me when it landed,” he said, then paused at the question in my eyes. “Oh, right. You don’t know who I’m talking about, do you?”
I shook my head, still eating.
“Brett Mallek is the Alpha werewolf of a small pack that lives next to us. You set the whole thing up. His parents are the Alphas of the New York City Pack, which is the one that your blonde werewolf is part of. We’ll get back to her in a minute,” he said, giving me a level look which I returned, adding a twirling hand gesture to get him to continue. He raised one eyebrow but went on.
“So three security guys roll out of the chopper and take up positions around the damn copter like I’m the president or something. Then this fireplug of a fella steps up to me and introduces himself as Deckert. Runs the human security force for your princess, which I guess is a big job, but he came to get me himself on account of I’m your family and he wasn’t taking any chances. Former Marine Force Recon. Good guy. We talked on the way down. The kinda solider most officers would want to clone and fill a platoon with. Anyway, here I am, zipped from the farm to this posh hotel in mere hours. I gotta tell you, Chris, I was pretty worried when you stepped in. I didn’t know if you were half lobotomized or what. But you seem really good. Although –" he paused to draw a breath, “you seem a bit different as well. Lydia mentioned it after you and Tanya… retired. She noticed that you’re much edgier. Quicker to jump down someone’s throat. I see it, too. Thought we should talk about that.”
I had a mouthful of pancake, so I took a moment to chew and swallow, which gave me time to think. When it was finally safe to open my maw, I almost had my thoughts in order.
“I have no idea what’s going on almost all the time. I don’t know anyone, I don’t recognize anything or any place, but it’s all being shoved at me rapid fire. People look at me and I can tell they know me by their body language, but I don’t have a clue who they are. I can do all this stuff—lift cars, jump on top of buildings, move really fast. Did you know I can take quarters and shoot them like a plasma weapon?”
“Actually, I did. Len and I figured that one out for you,” he said with a grin.
“Anyway, it’s all one steady, full on mindfuck—sorry.” Gramps wasn’t big on swearing although there were moments when it was appropriate. My use of the word showed him how messed up I was.
“That’s why it’s so great to see you. You’re the only one I know. I can feel that I know Tanya and I can feel her emotions, which is bizarre, but that’s the only ace I got. Gramps, I don’t know what the hell I’m doing or how I got this way.”
A giant furry head pushed its way onto my lap and I lay one hand over the massive skull without thinking about it.
“What about him?” Gramps asked, smiling at the beast.
“He feels right, like he belongs with me, but I don’t remember him. The temper thing you mentioned is there, sir. It’s frustration, mainly. But also... I’ve lost so much time. I don’t want to lose more time to stupid things. People with shitty attitudes, people that expect butt kissing, or any crap like that. I’m not going to waste brain power on that stuff.”
He was watching me carefully, a look I remembered well growing up. It was his evaluation look, the one he used when he was judging my attitude, and it was so damn familiar, it almost made me cry. One thing that I could recognize. I almost hugged him for just looking at me that way.
“I guess I can relate to that. But listen, kiddo. You need to temper that a bit. From what I understand, you have lots of time, decades, maybe centuries of time. So you need to be a little sensitive to how things flow, ya see?”
“They told me about that; at least, Stacia did. That I don’t age anymore. But sir, I feel like I just got out of college. That I just graduated. But I didn’t. I led a whole life and now I’ve got none of that.”
“That brings us back to Stacia. Tell me about her,” he said, sipping his coffee.
“Well, she was the first person I met after… after the shot. Her and ‘Sos," I said, patting the bulk on my lap. “She helped me… with everything. Never asked me for a thing.”
“And she’s gorgeous?” he added, watching my reaction.
“Yes, of course! What do you want me to say? She’s drop-dead gorgeous,” I hissed in a whisper. “Everyone seems to hate her, but I gotta tell you, sir, she’s been the most stable, truest friend I’ve had so far. Maybe in my whole life—at least what I remember of it.”
He thought about that for a moment, mentally chewing it over.
“Understand, Chris, that this is hard for all of us as well. We have to remember all the time that you don’t remember. It’s not easy. Like in my case, I keep forgetting that anything you may have learned about women in the last two years is gone. So here’s the thing. You are bonded to the queen of the vampires and from what I know, you love her. And she, by her own admission, is a jealous, territorial woman. You saved Stacia from a werewolf and I know, because you told me so, that you’ve always felt guilty about her getting bit, a fact which bothers you much more than her. And from what Lydia says, Stacia has a major thing for you. So the vampire women don’t like her, which would be the same if they were human women. But you have to stay true to your friends; if you didn’t, then I would have a big issue with you. And you’re right… you never got a chance to have many friends. So you have a tricky rope to balance on. You need to make sure you don’t lead that girl on while trying to be a friend and staying true to Tanya, who I consider my granddaughter-in-law whether vampires marry or not.”
"Argggg!” I said, pounding my head with both hands. “Like I need this right now. I gotta try and rebuild who I was and juggle all that.”
He nodded. “Not an easy road. But you’ve never had an easy road, Chris. So if friends and relationships are as important to you as I think they are, you have to stay on that road.”
“So how do I do it, Gramps?”
“One foot in front of the other, Chris. One foot in front of the other.”
The suite doorbell rang. I went to the door, moving faster than I intended. Gramps's crossword book swirled in the wind of my passage. “Oops, my bad,” I told him as I opened the door.
A muscular human male with a crew-cut and semper fi tattoo on his forearm stood in the doorway.
“Mr. Gordon,” he said, then leaned slightly to take in my grandfather, who he addressed, “Mr. Gordon.”
“Good morning, Mr. Deckert. Coffee?” Gramps responded.
“No thank you,
sir. Just wanted to tell you that the NYPD is here. They said to tell you,” he directed the last at me, “- that they have another one. They said you would know what that meant.”
I didn’t know much, but unfortunately, I knew that.
The same lieutenant from the night before was there, in the lobby, looking dead tired.
“We have another building in Queens. Pretty much the same thi…” he trailed off, looking behind me. Tanya was tugging a long-sleeved, black athletic shirt into place, dark sunglasses hiding her eyes. She wore the same yoga pants from the night before. She radiated sleepiness, but it was, after all, the equivalent of the middle of the night for her. “Ah Lieutenant? You were saying?”
“Ah, yeah, ‘nother demon house thingy. Hello, Miss Demidova,” he said, his attention to the matter at hand completely shot.
“Okay, let’s go,” I said, which caused Deckert to speak into a wrist mike, Gramps to grab his glasses and wallet, and the Lieutenant to pay attention. Tanya stepped forward and took my hand in hers while a whirlwind of activity blew up around us. A few minutes later, we were all riding in a big Cadillac Escalade with a police cruiser in full flashing-light-and-siren mode clearing the way for us.
Chapter 34
Gina was waiting for us, as was Stacia, which surprised me. The beautiful were girl was dressed in olive green cargo pants, black boots, and was wearing a stretchy black athletic shirt that almost matched Tanya’s. This time, we skipped the hazmat suits and just headed in: me, Tanya, the wolf girl, and Awasos. There was only one demon in this building and the hole was even smaller. Cleaning the whole thing up took about an hour.
When we left the building, Gramps and Gina were waiting for us, talking to an older, white-haired man with a big white mustache who wore a black suit and leaned on a crystal-headed cane. An extremely fit-looking Native American woman was standing next to him, arms crossed, watching us as we approached. Correction—she was watching me and Tanya, having dismissed Stacia at a glance. Something about her seemed odd. It came to me three steps later: she was a were, and for a split second, her animal half seemed to peer out at me like a superimposed image. Wolverine.
“How was it?” Gina asked. The older gent and his assistant or bodyguard or whatever she was observed us closely.
“Easier than last night. Still messy, though. Lots of blood.” I said, watching the newcomers. They both knew me. At least, their body language seemed to say so.
“Director Stewart, Miss Benally,” Tanya said with a nod at each of them.
“Why hello yourself, Miss Demidova,” the man, Stewart, said with a sly smile. “You’re up early today?” It was close to 2 pm.
“This business finds me keeping strange hours,” my vampire responded with a wave back at the apartment building behind us.
“Yes, this business,” he mused, twitching his mustache with one hand. He looked at me with a curious gleam in his eye but then switched his gaze to Stacia. “This must be Miss Reynolds!”
“You are correct. Stacia, meet Nathan Stewart, Director of Oracle, and his right hand, Adine Benally,” Gina said.
Stacia shook the Director’s hand, nodded at Benally who hadn’t moved a muscle, and then, with a glance at me, asked the very question I had been thinking. “What’s Oracle?”
“Occult Research, Alternative Combat League or O.R.A.C.L.” he replied with a delighted grin.
“Seems like you worked pretty hard on that mouthful?” Stacia noted.
The Director laughed outright, causing a couple of cops nearby to glance his way. He ignored the attention, staying focused on Stacia, with a couple of sideways glances at me.
“My dear, that’s how it’s done. First, you figure out the acronym you want to end up with, then you make the words fit. Time-honored government tradition,” he said, beaming at her. He seemed genuinely enthusiastic; it wasn’t contrived in the least.
Again, my blonde were friend asked the question I had been about to ask, saving me the trouble of displaying my lack of mental faculty. “What does Oracle do?”
“Well, my dear, I’ve been able to assemble a group of talented individuals whose abilities have proven valuable, if not, in fact, vital to the safety of our nation. But none of my people have Mr. Gordon’s collection of skills, and I’m afraid what you’ve all experienced in the last few days is happening on a much larger scale.”
“The hell gates? How much larger?” I asked.
“Global, as best we can tell,” he said, turning his attention to me. “Certainly all across our country, and we’re hearing from allied nations much the same.”
“A plague of portals to hell?” I asked. “Why?”
“Actually, we already understand the why of it all. It’s the how—as in how to close them that we don’t have good answers for… other than your skills.”
“Explain, please,” Tanya asked, although it sounded a bit more like an imperial command. She was concerned, mostly for me.
“Certainly, Miss Demidova,” he said, adopting a more serious expression. Benally had leaned forward at Tanya’s tone but otherwise held her place.
“Do you know of the Large Hadron Collider?” he asked.
“In Switzerland, right? The largest particle accelerator in the world,” I said, asserting my geekhood. It was a project I followed… had followed. It must have been much farther along than I remembered.
“Exactly right, Mr. Gordon. A wondrous achievement that has pushed the very boundaries of science. It also seems to have had the effect of diminishing those barriers that separate our world from others.”
“Wait. Like string-theory and alternative dimensions?” I asked. Tanya turned a raised eyebrow in my direction. “What? I’ve always been a nerd.”
“I thought you might have developed those… interests in the last couple of years?” she asked.
“No, he’s always been interested in science,” my grandfather interjected. He seemed to know Director Stewart and his partner.
“Kind of a let-down, huh?” I asked Tanya. She just smirked at me and turned back to Stewart.
“Is this development related to the Higgs Boson research?” she asked, turning slightly to arch her eyebrow at me in a take that look. Wow, super-hot and brainy! Apparently the old me had great taste in vampires… so to speak.
Stacia looked annoyed, but the Director was grinning again.
“We think it’s a byproduct of just running the LHC at full power, something they’ve been doing a lot of lately.”
“What led you to that conclusion?” Tanya asked.
“We had an incident upstate. Little town called Groton Falls. We covered it up with a chemical spill story, but it was an incursion.”
“Demons?” My voice sounded really deep, and people around us turned to stare. Stewart’s eyes widened just slightly and his partner, Benally, twitched like she was gonna pounce on me. Tanya touched my hand, and the dark bubble that had swelled up inside me receded. Gramps was eyeing me with a speculative look, Gina was unreadable, and Stacia… Stacia was watching Tanya’s hand on my arm with the focused look of someone learning a new skill.
“Sorry, but was it demons?” I asked, voice normal.
“No, elves,” Stewart said, his mustache twitching in amusement.
“Like in Keebler elves?” I asked after a shared glance with Tanya.
“Oh no, Mr. Gordon. These elves are very, very far from the cookie makers or Santa’s cute helpers. These are the beings that gave the Brothers Grimm the fodder for their bleak tales. And with them came goblins and all sorts of other nastiness. It would seem that Faerie is a real world, sort of a sister—a dark sister—to this one. There are others as well, but Faerie is closest and has the most history with us. Natural cosmic events, which I don’t pretend to understand, have emitted particles from time to time that would unlock the dimensional doors, so to speak. They have crossed over and left their imprint on our psyches and in our folklore for hundreds of years.”
“Sounds like they need to lear
n not to trespass!” I said, thinking about how it might be to kick some elfy ass.
“Actually, we have it under control. The trespassers, as you call them, met up with the wrong man and, well, as I say, we have it under control. Diplomatic relations and all. I do have to say that upstate New York seems to breed some rather formidable individuals,” he said with a nod at both my grandfather and myself.
“Sounds like half my neighbors back home,” Gramps said.
“I think you might get along well with the fellow in question, Mr. Gordon,” Stewart said. “But the elves have explained some things to us and they were well aware of the LHC and its effects. This Hellgate business seems the same. With the help of some of the elves that study these things, we’ve figured out how the LHC has done what it has done, and our scientists have corrected it. But we are left with weakened barriers and many multiples of these portals, both the Hellgate kind and some of the interplanetary kind. I’m here to see if we can prevail upon you to help us with the demon portals?”
