Wally is flailing around on the floor, attempting to break Fen's grip on him. But even when Fen isn't really trying, he has a nearly unbreakable hold on whatever he sets his sights on. Including his "toys" as it were.
"Let him go, Fen," I admonish gently. He pouts, but releases the vampire. Wally springs upward, backing up from Fen quickly. His eyes dart between the two of us.
"Did you say 'Fen'? As in..."
There's no point in lying to him, Wally isn't stupid. "Yes. This is Fenrir."
"So, Loki is... Loki doesn't have a god killer."
"He has a name," I snap. Continuing in a softer tone, I say, "Fen has been with me almost since the very beginning. Loki isn't cut out for kids."
"But he's humanoid?"
I shake my head and turn my attention to the little boy next to me. "Fen, go furry for me, would you?" Eagerly nodding, he changes forms instantaneously. In his place, a furry black wolf yips in a manner only to be seen as cute. I'm sure he was going for threatening, but that doesn't change how adorable he is.
"This is crazy, you know that?" Wally mutters, and for a moment, I'm afraid I've lost him. Then, "Crazy, but totally cool!" Wally grins at me, his boyish nature shining. A goofy kid - just like I've been saying. "So how are we gonna get this god? I've been on this case for a while now, and--"
"Wait," I interrupt. "Back up. How long have you been working this?"
"Uh...since the beginning." That's why the future is falling into place the way it is. Wonderful.
"We need to get you somewhere safe. And warded."
"Why? What's going on?"
"Gods are the type to hold a grudge. If you got anywhere near a piece of evidence that would lead you to him, even if you didn't notice it... He'll see you as a threat. Doesn't matter what your intentions might have been."
Faced with this new truth, Wally swallows nervously. I feel bad for the kid. He never asked for this, never asked to be put on this specific case. Consultants are the reserves detectives call on for particularly rough cases. The talented types are automatically registered to be on the list, while keeping up with their day jobs. Seers, witches, crafters, you name it. But most aren't combat trained, and you can bet none of them have protections from pissed off gods.
My place is pretty heavily warded and defended, but the only people who can truly keep gods out are other gods. Fen and I can take care of ourselves if a god breaks in. Wally can't. I need Tyr.
--
In the central part of Necromicon, veritable mansions sprawl around the central tower. Realm of the gods, ostentatious and opulent. What else for the powers that be? Certainly not the "hovels" scattered about the rest of the city.
Massive oak columns flank the Norwegian pine door, the outside of the house a mishmash of carvings that tell one continuous story. I ring the silver doorbell and wait on the porch as it chimes thunderously. Wally fidgets beside me.
The door is thrown open, and there he stands.
Thick brown hair frames his scarred, young face, his blue eyes bright. His cybernetic-implant hand is the one holding the door open, allowing him to beckon us forward with flesh and blood. I'm still ticked off that Tyr lost his hand. When Loki first had Fenrir, Tyr went to play with the scamp, and ended up accidentally losing a hand to the god killer. It wasn't Fen's fault, he was a little kid. Loki should have known better. If I had taken Fen sooner, it probably wouldn't have happened.
We step into the foyer, a room filled with old relics of craftsmanship for furniture, and period tapestries everywhere. I turn to my old friend with the faintest smile
"I'm glad you finally decided to drop in, Mal. Took you long enough to visit," Tyr says in his crazy deep voice.
"Afraid I'm here on business, not pleasure," I say.
He frowns. "Too bad. So what's going on and who's your friend?"
Oh. Right. I turn towards Wally, "Wally, this is Tyr. Tyr, this is Wally."
"Pleasure to meet you, sir," Wally chirps, visibly anxious.
Tyr lets out a chuckle. "It's just Tyr here, not 'sir'. That answers one question. Mal?"
"I think we've got a god gone rogue." Silence reigns supreme now, Tyr's jaw clenched.
"You believe this?"
"Yes."
"I assume then that Wally needs protection from this god?"
"You know me well."
He nods thoughtfully. "I'll protect him for you, Mal. But be careful, alright?"
"I'll do my job, Tyr. I always do."
"Yeah, well, I want you to stay alive, too."
I merely nod before I make a hasty exit, leaving Wally dumbfounded, but safe.
--
It's a good night's sleep for me, and then off to hunt a god.
--
Another sleep filled with nightmares. I had to live through their dying once already. Now I relive it. It must be my brain working to protect me. Now I won't let anyone close again, and I'll also avoid the delusion that people I deem friend and family won't stab me in the back.
But this isn't the time for nostalgia. I've got a god to catch. I gear up like I normally do on a case; black jeans, black long-sleeved shirt, dark gray trench coat, and black boots. Black and those darker shades make hiding blood easier - it's a matter of good manners.
I give Fen his breakfast and head out, letting my senses relax and expand. Sort through all creation to pinpoint Pandemonium, and then Necromicon. The information hits me with a familiar rush, and I keep walking towards the city. I only stop when I feel that strange tug in my chest that means important things are being processed.
My mind sifts through a thousand souls, millions of thoughts and sins and virtues, before the murderous bright red is found. During all of this, my eyes had closed, but now they snap open. I know where he is.
My feet go on automatic, leading me toward my target when my phone rings. I fish it out of my pocket and answer it with impatience, "Yeah?"
"M-M-Mal?" It's Belinda's voice, full of fear and tears. I stop dead in my tracks.
"What's wrong?"
"H-he said...y-you took away his fun, s-so you have to be p-punished." She's openly sobbing now, and I can hear someone muttering to her in angry tones. "I-I h-have to go. T-that was all the t-time I had."
"Belinda!" I shout into my phone as the other end hangs up. The son of a bitch took her. Her time is limited. So I run.
I still have his location, I can get there in time... I have to. I run as fast as I possibly can, coat billowing out behind me.
--
The building once housed Lady Aphrodite's Naughty Brewhouse. Once upon a time, it held a thriving business with drinks, food, and scantily clad waitresses. Aphrodite made a pretty penny off of the converted warehouse, but closed it when the male patrons began getting handsier and handsier with the help. A "punishment". How stupidly fitting.
I open the door as quietly as possible, and slip into the dismal and dim building. Against the back wall, everything is nicely lit. Belinda is heavily duct-taped to a chair, no longer crying but with her makeup running, revealing her pale ghoul flesh. She's glaring at the god named Krishna.
He has skin the color of roasted almonds, full head of wavy black hair, and derangement in the depths of his brown eyes. In his hand, a straight razor. But no ordinary one. No. This was clearly forged by a crafting god and death god working together. His smile is making me sick.
"No matter what you do, Mal will catch you," Belinda says strongly in her soft voice, trying so damn hard to be brave. I want to tell her everything will be okay, but it's too early to blow my presence now.
"Mal," Krishna sneers. "Pathetic man. In fact, I think you deserve to know just how pathetic." He twitches a hand and I'm zooming from my shadowed location right into the back wall. There's no way he got that power on his own...
Blood fills my mouth, a side effect of such an impact, and I struggle to turn my head to the side and spit. Fucking bastard. It feels like I'm pinned to the wall by an immovable force. Until it yields, but only to leave me facing Krishna before the force reasserts itself.
"Pathetic," Krishna repeats, smiling wider. He wraps a hand around my throat and begins to squeeze.
Rage blinds me, his hand squeezing the life out of me, and I want to scream at him that he doesn't know what he's doing, that so much death will come of this... And then it's too late.
The power I was born with, the power I suppress and hide, it gushes out of me in a torrent. There's a hoarse scream, one I recognize as my own. Everything is covered in blinding lilac light, until I tell it to fade and it complies. Laughter echoes through the building. Laughter. My laughter. With mere thoughts, I change things. Krishna is relocated a few feet away from me, deranged look replaced by one of fear. Belinda is freed of her bonds, sitting in the chair with eyes of shock. I reach one hand out...
...and the lilac light encompasses everything.
STAY TUNED FOR PART 3, THE CONCLUSION
0 comments:
Post a Comment