by Charley Case
“Come on, let’s go-o-o-o.” She impatiently waved for him to hurry.
“Hold your horses, little doggy.”
He glared at her playfully as he made a detour to the refrigerator and opened the freezer, pulling out a fresh box of Charleston Chews Minis. He shook the box at her as he passed by, through the door.
“Now I’m ready. Where’s Penny?”
Penny gave a toot, ripped the sheet of paper she had been making the map on from the notebook, took off from the table, and soared through the open door, landing on Finn’s shoulder.
“Are we all ready now?” Mila glared at them.
Finn just laughed. “Money does weird things to you Peabrains.”
“I just don’t want Preston to have to sit around waiting for us. He’s a very busy man.” She locked the door and led the way to the elevator.
“Trust me, Preston isn’t sitting around waiting on us.”
“Chire shir.” Penny laughed.
Finn chuckled. “She bet you five bucks that we’ll have to wait at least half an hour to see him.”
Mila frowned at the little blue dragon. “You’re on. But if I win, you have to give me a head massage. Those talons of yours are like magic on my scalp. And none of that five-minute shit. I want a full half-hour.”
Penny smiled and held out her small hand, which Mila reached up and shook.
“Well, I got out of that pretty easy.” Finn beamed at her.
She elbowed him. “Not even. You’ll be working on my feet with those big thumbs of yours.”
They rode the elevator down, and after a couple of seconds, Mila turned to Finn, her head cocked to the side. “Did you call me ‘little doggy?’”
Kal stepped to the side after opening the large oak door, gesturing for them to enter.
“Please come in. Mister Meriwether is waiting for you in his office.”
Mila elbowed Finn again, this time eliciting an oof from him. “See? I told you.”
He chuckled and nodded. “You win this one, Doctor Winters.”
She rolled her eyes and stepped in, followed by Finn and Penny. Kal led them through the house, his hooves on the wooden floors muffled by some sort of rubberized horseshoe. Eventually, he led them to a set of double doors, opened them both, and stepped to the side to let the trio pass.
“Mister Meriwether, your guests have arrived,” he announced.
“Thank you, Kal.”
Preston was sitting at a huge, wooden desk situated in front of a set of large, arching windows, dark now that the sun had set, but reflecting firelight from the roaring fireplace at the side of the living- room-sized office. He had been playing on his phone but put the device down when his guests entered, and Finn was surprised to see the same game that Mila liked to play.
“Thanks for seeing us on such short notice,” Mila said, her confidence soaring with her victory.
“No, thank you for resolving the issue so quickly.” He gestured to the large, plush leather chairs facing his desk. “Please, have a seat. Would you like a drink?” he asked, walking over to the wet bar and making himself a whiskey on the rocks.
“I’ll have one of those if you don’t mind,” Finn said, never one to decline a free drink.
“And for you two?” Preston turned to Mila and Penny, the tongs in his hand holding a large, round ice ball above a rocks glass.
“I’ll have the same.” Mila shrugged.
Finn could tell that she would prefer her G&T but didn’t want to put Preston out.
Not one to worry about such things herself, Penny took off and landed beside Preston on the wet bar and began to peruse his selection, one hand on her hip, and the other tapping at her chin. Preston smiled down at her, obviously enjoying her authenticity. She eventually found something she liked, a fifty-year-old scotch, and tapped the bottle, then pointed at the ice and shook her head.
Preston gave her a half-bow. “You have good taste, my lady. It’s the most expensive thing on the shelf.”
He chuckled at her nonchalant shrug, then poured their drinks as Penny swooped back over to the table. She realized a small bowl of mints sat in the center, and tossed a few in her mouth, crunching them up just in time for Preston to put her very expensive drink down beside her. He handed both Mila and Finn their drinks and went back to his chair, taking a sip of his own drink before setting the glass down.
“Okay, now that we’re all comfortable.” He leaned forward, folding his massive hands on the desk in front of him. “What have you learned?”
Finn pulled out Peter’s phone, having Mila unlock it before he slid it to Preston across the big desk. “This is the phone of the guy who stole the hound. There are only four numbers saved on it, each identified only by a single letter, but if you look under the contact info for ‘K,’ you’ll find Anita’s number. The last message was received just before the break-in, but it’s looking like she’s the inside man.”
Preston scrolled quickly through the phone, much more familiar with the tech than Finn was. He sighed when he got to Anita’s number. “While this does look damning, I can’t believe she would put her animals in danger. She’s a little hard to get along with, but all she cares about are her charges, particularly the hounds.”
He sat back, considering for a few minutes.
“This is her work number.”
Finn took a sip of his whiskey and raised his eyebrows in appreciation at its superior taste. “Is that important?”
“Well, we just switched phones for all the employees a few months ago. I remember Anita was complaining that she didn’t get hers right away. I thought it had been a missed order, but now I’m thinking someone was holding her phone and using it to frame her. She’s too smart to use one of my phones to betray me. It’s just a little too obvious.” He reached up and absentmindedly scratched at the base of one of his large horns. “I’ll be sure to keep an eye on her, but I think this is a red herring.”
“Well, we thought we should bring it up, just in case,” Mila said, setting her untouched drink on the table. “Did you hear about the Selkies and Orcs who were attacked?”
Preston nodded. “I did. I assume you talked to them?”
“Yeah, the Selkies were as helpful as they could be, but the Orcs decided to start a fight with Finn before he got too much from them.”
Finn picked up the story for her. “I did get one piece of info that’s pretty important. It looks like the Dark Star or her agents now have the hounds, and they have a way to control them, at least to a degree. Thanks to Mila’s quick thinking, we tracked one of her agents from the orcs’ shop to an estate on Polo Club Circle. Huge place with white stone walls surrounding it.”
Preston’s head cocked to the side. “The Gerivaldie Estate? I know it. But that makes no sense, Fred and his wife are just Peabrains. They don’t have a connection to the Dark Star in any way.”
“I looked up the public record.” Mila pulled out her phone and brought up the web page before handing it to Preston. “It says it was sold to Black Hole Consulting not long ago.”
Preston read the document, his face becoming dark with anger. “I swear to God, if that fucking bitch hurt those two, I’ll hunt her to the ends of the Earth. The Gerivaldies were one of the most philanthropic families in the country. They gave away billions over the years to help people all over the world. They would never hurt a fly.”
“We have a little more,” Finn said, scooting forward in his chair. “We know the hounds are at the estate now, but we were spotted while scoping the place out, and I think they’re going to move them. We want to try and get in tonight, but we’re a little lost as to what we should do once we’re there. Obviously, we can’t let the hounds be used as a weapon against the public, but I don’t really want to go in there and try to kill a pack of stone-skinned hounds. I’m pretty sure whoever has them is using some sort of mind control artifact. If we can get our hands on that, then we might be able to end this before it really starts.”
Preston to
ok another sip of whiskey before answering, weighing his words. “If it were me, I would just go for the leader, but we don’t really know who that is. What we need is information. I have a small strike team I can call on, but they’re currently on another mission, and at least a few hours out. We could take the estate by force, but I’m not going to send my people in blind. Would you be able to get in and do a little scouting? It would be helpful to know for sure if an artifact is controlling them. Gives us a target to go after.”
“We can get in,” Finn shrugged. “But if there’s an opportunity for us to get the artifact ourselves, I’m going to take it.”
“I agree, but do be careful. I don’t want—”
The glass of both windows behind Preston exploded inward, shards flying into the room. One speared the table, only inches from Penny, who jumped to the side with a squeak.
Preston jumped to his feet, his eyes dark with anger and his shoulders flexing. “What the fucking hell?”
Four men dressed in hoods and tactical gear jumped through the busted windows, chains of small bubbles flying from the hands of two of them and wrapping around Preston, pinning his arms and legs.
Finn grabbed the coffee table between him and Mila and threw it at one of the attackers, sending Penny into the air and circling in for an attack. The table exploded, its target holding his hand up shooting a bolt of light.
“Don’t suppose you guys want to talk it out?” Finn asked, reaching back and grabbing the handle of Fragar.
The four intruders leaped at him and Mila.
“Good.”
Finn let the rage loose and sprinted to meet them.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Finn punched an assassin in the face, his rage-fueled state making him stronger than he had any right to be and sending the hooded attacker rag-dolling end over end, his neck at an unnatural angle.
The rage flowed through him, only held back by his worry for Mila and his need to protect her. He glanced to the side to see that she had pulled Gram out and was chopping at her attacker, her second attacker, not noticing the sword and thinking her less of a threat, tried to flank Finn.
Finn gave a whispered word, and Fragar unfolded, glowing blue runes flashing with power. He threw the axe overhand at the flanker, taking him square in the chest. The assassin screamed and collapsed to the ground, leaving behind a smear of blood as his momentum slid him across the polished wooden floor.
Finn turned back just in time to see the second of his initial attackers swinging down a metal rod, crackling with energy. Finn threw up an arm in defense and took the magical weapon’s blow. The impact sent sparks flying and instantly numbed his arm. It fell to his side, useless for the moment.
Instead of retreating, Finn stepped into the attack, leaned forward, and drove his forehead into the assassin’s face. He heard a satisfying crunch of cartilage as the hooded man stumbled back.
Penny swooped past him, breathing a thin line of fire as she went, presumably to help Mila with the last man. Finn felt almost cheated that the attack was over so soon.
The hooded man in front of him put a hand to his face mask, blood dripping through the black fabric as he cautiously took a step back.
“Got ya now, little man,” Finn growled, advancing another step.
The assassin looked over his shoulder at the broken windows.
“Thinkin’ a’ runnin’?” Finn’s berserker rage didn’t make him eloquent.
The assassin lowered his hand to the metal rod, holding it like a two-handed sword. “Not exactly, dwarf.”
Four more assassins came flying in through the window, already charging magical attacks aimed at Finn and Mila.
Finn opened his mouth to roar but was beaten to it by Preston. The Minotaur’s roar shook the room, vibrating the bottles on the wet bar, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. Finn took the opportunity to throw the leather chair he had been sitting in at the man he faced.
The last of the original attackers never saw the furniture missile coming, and was thrown back into one of the newcomers, whose spell exploded into his partner, killing him instantly. The caster then stumbled back from the force of the impact and was impaled through the back by a piece of glass still clinging to the window frame.
The second newcomer had sidestepped the incoming chair and unfurled a string of tiny bubbles that formed a burning whip, coiled at his feet. With a graceful arcing motion, the whip slipped into the air before snapping forward at incredible speed, slashing at the still restrained Minotaur and leaving a burning line across his chest.
Finn glanced over and saw Preston flexing huge shoulder muscles, putting enormous strain on his magical bindings. He roared again, his eyes erupting in flame as he released his magic, and the bubbles binding him were ripped apart. Froth dripped from his mouth, and smoke snorted from his flaring nostrils.
The burning whip slashed again, this time across Preston’s face, making him turn away, but he snapped his head back around to pierce his target with his hellish gaze. Finn almost felt bad for the assassin as Preston tossed his huge wooden desk to the side with one arm, and charged the now-backpedaling assassin, head lowered and horns bursting into flames.
Finn wanted to see what happened next but was distracted by the sight of Mila on her butt, Gram held defensively in front of her as a thin tendril of smoke rose from her chest. Finn saw that her original assailant was down, staring with dead eyes, his face half-charred by dragon fire and blood pooling under him from a slash across his chest.
The two remaining men quickly took stock of the situation and rightly determined they had no chance of winning the fight. As if on some unheard cue, they both turned and ran for the window.
Finn sprang the short distance to where Fragar protruded from the chest of one of the dead men and snatched the handle up, spun, and threw it again. His aim was slightly off, due to his numb arm affecting his balance, but he was able to take the arm off the assassin closest to the window. The man spun and screamed in pain. His partner ran into his back, and they both went down in a heap.
Finn took a deep breath, quelling his rage, knowing in the back of his mind that they needed to question these men. He was taking his second deep breath when the sound of pounding hooves made him spin and put up his good arm in a defensive posture.
Preston was charging straight at him. He acted quickly, rolling out of his way and coming up on one knee just in time to see the Minotaur slam into both remaining assassins, crushing them into the bookshelf. The sound of cracking bones and the spray of blood across the book spines was all the evidence Finn needed to know that they were dead.
Penny landed on Finn’s shoulder, pulling back a large portion of his rage with a cool hand to his cheek, but Finn was focused on Preston. Minotaurs were similar to berserkers in that they tended to get carried away in battle, and Finn had no desire to face down an enraged one.
Preston stood over the mangled bodies, his shoulders heaving, and horns still flaming. Slowly, the flames died down until they finally flickered out, but Preston still didn’t turn Finn’s direction; he just stood over the bodies, breathing heavily.
Finn was impressed that Preston was able to pull himself back from the edge. It spoke volumes about how powerful he actually was. Most Minotaurs would be stuck in their rage for days, destroying everything they came across. Their fear of killing innocents while in this state was the main reason they didn’t mingle with other races.
Mila stepped up to Finn’s side, her hand slipping into his. “Are you okay?”
Finn nodded and glanced down at her. Besides a small burnt spot on her t-shirt, she looked fine. “You?”
”Yeah.” She watched Preston’s internal battle rage on. “Is he?”
Finn considered for a few more seconds before nodding. “I think so. But let’s not interrupt, just in case.”
After another ten seconds, Preston stood up to his full height and straightened his suit jacket. He turned to face them, and Finn was glad to see tha
t his eyes had returned to their normal coloring.
“Sorry about that.” He cleared his throat and pulled a white handkerchief from his inside pocket and dabbed at his forehead, the cloth coming away red. His brown fur had hidden the fact that he was covered in blood. “It seemed you needed the help.” He held up the handkerchief and chuckled. “This is the problem with my head being my main weapon. It’s messy.”
The doors burst open, and Finn and Mila spun, Finn raising his fists, and Mila readying Gram. They relaxed a bit when they saw it was only Kal. However, Finn did a double-take when he saw that the centaur held an automatic rifle in his hands.
Several men came in behind him in black suits, each of them wearing earpieces, having the look of private security.
“It’s fine, Kal,” Preston said in a calm, authoritative manner. “Our friends here took good care of me. Though, I have to ask, how is it that these assassins made it this far onto the property without setting off any of the wards?”
“We’re not sure, sir.” Kal lowered his rifle and gave a slight bow. “I’m having our people look into it as we speak.”
“Fine, do your sweeps, and get our people to clean this up. I’ll show our guests out.”
Kal gave another half-bow and ushered the security detail out of the room, backing out behind them.
Preston held out a hand toward the open door. “I ‘m sorry you had to be a part of that. It’s rare that I’m attacked anymore, but it does happen, unfortunately. You should probably go before this place turns into a zoo of cleaners and guards, combing every inch of the property.”
They headed out into the hall, and Finn cleared his throat. “Actually, those guys were probably after us. We were attacked by someone very similar earlier today.”
Preston raised an eyebrow. “Why didn’t you mention that before?”
Finn shrugged. “I wasn’t sure it had anything to do with the hunt for the hounds. I figured it was just the Dark Star coming after us because we keep asking questions. Though, now that we know she’s connected to the hound’s theft, I guess I should have mentioned it. It kind of slipped my mind.”
