Satan's Sword (Imp Book 2) (20 page)

I’d been trying to peek at their clothing to see if I could determine where we were. The fact that he’d recognized me and called me Az as opposed to one of my other names clued me in. I’d done favors for this high lord before. Fate was truly smiling on me. A few of the other high lords would have been happy to see me skinned and hanging in their hall. I bowed at the elves and reached out a hand to activate the gate. The trap was one way. A human, or a werewolf evidently, could just walk right in, but they would never be able to return without the skill to trigger the gate. Talented elves and demons had that skill. And, of course, angels.

I dragged an unresisting Candy through the gate and walked her down to the parking lot before letting go of her collar.

“That was a close one,” I told her.

She looked intently at me with big eyes, and jutted her muzzle toward me. Clearly a request for explanation.

“Elves.” I made a face. “They have territories in our realm and use these gates as traps to snare humans to serve them.”

Candy looked horrified.

“It’s not a bad life. The elves seem to treat them well. They don’t beat them or torture them or have sex with them. The humans work and they have food, clothing, and shelter. Talented humans are provided instruction in the arts, some can become sorcerers if they have the skill, although adult humans don’t have the time to perfect such an art. The human babies they take make much better sorcerers.”

Candy looked even more horrified. She made a choking noise.

“What a stupid fucking trap. A
toddler
? In the woods on a weekday morning in October? Of course a human could never resist a lost little kid in the woods, no matter how improbable the scenario. Humans are such suckers.” I looked at Candy. “Werewolves are evidently suckers, too.”

She gave me a scathing look that was, no doubt, intended to wither me where I stood. She had a very expressive face in wolf form.

“We’re lucky those guys are on good terms with me. Their territories are divided into kingdoms and nobody recognizes anyone else as an equal. I’ve done a favor for this particular high lord. I went and retrieved one of his sorcerers that went rogue a few centuries back. It actually didn’t turn out very well at first. There was a misunderstanding. A failure to communicate. Evidently, I was supposed to bring the sorcerer back to them alive and not in so many pieces. I was on their shit list for a while until the high lord realized that the whole deal had been an effective deterrent. His humans toe the line now, terrified that he’ll sic me on them if they stray. So we’re good. I’m not in such good standing with most of the other ones though.”

Candy sighed and shook her head. She looked me up and down, and then peered down the trail, waving a paw toward the path.

“Yeah, let’s keep going. I exploded my collar, though, so if we get hauled into the doggie pokey, can your friend vouch for me?”

She nodded.

The rest of the run to Williamsport was uneventful, although I noticed Candy tended to keep a shorter distance between us. While she changed shape I nosed around as beagle. There was a discarded candy wrapper with some chocolate still smeared on it that I entertained myself with when I was done identifying all the other dog visitors by their urine marks. I checked to see if Candy was finished, then popped into my human form and put on my clothing so we could head in for breakfast.

Candy looked with despair at the wrinkled mess of my clothing. We’d found a little diner in Williamsport and were enjoying coffee and a huge spread of food. Candy was the only one bothered by my disheveled appearance. None of the wait staff seemed to mind. In fact, our waitress was beyond pleased to have a table of hearty eaters on a weekday morning.

“Did you and Michelle get your costume worked out for Halloween?” Candy asked, eyeing the packets of jelly on the next table. I got up and retrieved them.

“Yeah. It’s not that dramatic compared to what I do back home, but it looks good.”

“Be careful with the vampires, Sam,” Candy warned. “They see everyone else as food and are very protective of their secrets. They isolate themselves from all the other species and they don’t mingle with humans unless they are hunting. I suspect that this event is where they pick their prey.”

I shrugged. “I’ve seen a few vampires recently. They are always super polite and pretty expressionless. I can’t imagine they’d attack me.”

“I’m sure the ones you’ve seen are their young. The old ones don’t come out during the day. I’ve never met an old vampire, but I know they are ruthless. I’m not sure how they’d feel to have a demon at their hunting party. You know how territorial you get about others infringing on your property, driving your car? They are that way, too.”

“You guys are territorial,” I said in amusement. “Everyone is. Even the humans. I’ve seen them get terribly bent out of shape if someone walks on their lawn.”

“Yes, but most species will defer to a bigger threat. We don’t like them, and we’ll try to drive them out if we can, but werecats are tolerated in our territories. Demons are definitely tolerated in our territories. And, of course, we have to abide by our existence contract where the vampires do not.”

“Why don’t the vampires have an existence contract? They have an angel assigned to them.” I didn’t see how these vampires could be as much of a threat as Candy was making them out to be. Pain in the ass, maybe. Liable to do me harm? Nope.

“Vampires existed as a race before the humans, so they’re clearly not Nephilim. Their angel is more of a diplomatic advisor. They don’t want the angels to be irritated enough with them to try to stamp them out, but they don’t fall under their control. They were never granted heavenly gifts like the humans. They stole them. Ninety-nine percent of the vampires were human once, so it’s not like it was hard to steal the gifts and use them for their own gain.”

“Ninety-nine percent? I thought all the vampires were humans once. You know, bitten and transformed into creatures of the night?” I said the last bit with a dramatic, spooky voice.

Candy wasn’t amused. “They’re an actual separate species. They reproduce, although rarely. Those ones are called ‘Born’ as opposed to the humans they turn into vampires, which they call ‘Made’. If they didn’t have the ability to transform humans, there would probably be only a hundred or so worldwide. They’re really picky about who they choose to turn. And the process is long. It takes half a millennium until a human is a vampire with more than minimal skills and abilities, and thousands of years before they are truly old and at full power.”

“And you know this how?” I teased. “Did you perhaps personally interview Dracula? Aside from the few I’ve seen recently, the last time I saw vampires was six hundred years ago. Those ones were eating dying diseased people, living like rats, with the cognitive ability of a piece of drywall. You’ve been watching too many late night movies.”

“Fine.” Candy glared at me. “I hope they bite you.”

The air around our table turned frosty as Candy gave all her attention to her omelet.

“Mmmm, I hope so, too.” I teased, unable to resist pissing her off even further.

We ate in silence for a while. I stole a glance at Candy, who was pointedly ignoring me. She had a lot on her plate right now, and I didn’t mean the omelet. Her whole race was at the mercy of angels, many of whom were voting for their extinction. She was breaking rules left and right that could result in her death. She’d just about gotten turned into a pincushion by elves, and now I was antagonizing her. Those elves would have killed her, too. If not right there, then after they’d taken her somewhere and “examined” her. They have no use for werewolves.

“Look, I’m sorry I made you angry,” I told her. “Let’s just change the subject. How is Reed doing with my smelly tenants? Are they giving him any trouble?”

“No, things are going smoothly,” she replied, as if she were undecided whether to stay mad at me or not.

“Still at full occupancy?” I prodded, hoping to push her out of sullenness and into a conversation. “Any good stories? Fights? Overdoses? Orgies?”

“There have been some words tossed around, but no fights. Werewolves are very good at keeping order. It’s gotten to the point where he’s only there an hour at check in, to get everyone settled and collect rent, then again in the morning.” Candy laughed suddenly. “Oh, he told me he’d seen a mutant cat with extra legs that someone must have dyed green. I told him to lay off the Jack Daniels.”

“That’s my doing,” I told her cheerfully. “Did he like it? The extra legs aren’t functional. It was a pretty good transformation though. I’m fairly proud of it. Usually when I attempt anything with other creatures I end up killing them. Piece of cake to do stuff to myself, very tricky to do it to someone else though.”

“I’ll have to tell him that.” She chuckled. “He thought it was one of those birth defects like you see in side shows at the carnivals. He figured the thing had survived this long only to have sadistic teenagers catch it and coat it with green Manic Panic hair dye.”

“No, just a demon having fun with some stray kitty.” I was glad the cat was making such an impression. “Let me know if he finds the ear-man though. I’d love to meet him.”

Candy looked startled for a moment then grinned. “Oh you’ve heard that story, too? Reed says he’s the homeless people’s boogie man. The legendary ear-man snags them in the dark, when they are cold and alone, then slices off their ears and dumps their bodies in the pit. The psychologists would have a field day with all that symbolism.”

“Ghost stories,” I agreed.

“Yeah, the homeless people say he’s moved on to killing little kids.” She shrugged. “Maybe he needs smaller ears for his collection.”

I’d gone cold. Angelo. Little Angelo Perez with his dark eyes so trusting as he’d looked up at me. He’d said he was in danger, and now I heard this. I didn’t care if it was a ghost story, my skin was crawling right up my back in panic. I scrambled for my cell phone and realized that I didn’t have any of my tenants’ numbers. Maybe Michelle did.

“What’s wrong?” Candy asked, noticing my face. “It’s just a story, Sam.”

“Are you sure? Homeless people go missing and no one even notices. Maybe little kids are missing, too. Kids from poor families that no one cares about. There’s a little boy, one of my tenants, and I need him to be safe.”

“Sam, it’s fine. Really,” she assured me. “Even kids from poor families don’t just vanish. There are AMBER alerts and all sorts of special emergency procedures if a child goes missing. I promise you, none of your tenants’ children have disappeared. I’d know about it. Everyone would know about it.”

I took a deep breath and relaxed. She was right. This was a stupid myth. The kid wasn’t in any danger. What was wrong with me, freaking out like that?

We finished breakfast, and then headed back to the towpath for our return run. Candy protested my stuffing food into the pack, but I couldn’t resist the irony of asking the waitress for a doggie bag. I made sure I put it in my side of the pack. Candy would never forgive me if I got ketchup on her clothing.

The run back was exhilarating. Candy once again stayed fairly close, becoming pinned to my side and keeping me between herself and the elf trap as we passed it. With that safely behind us, she gradually pulled ahead to lead me by about twenty feet. I loved my beagle form with its floppy ears and big paws, but I was seriously considering Owning something with longer legs. Candy was easily out pacing me, and I was running furiously just trying to keep her in sight.

As we rounded the corner by Brunswick, I saw the back of a figure walking ahead of us. The man appeared to be a hiker, loaded down with a huge backpack and a walking stick. Candy dropped to a trot, to keep from startling him, and glanced behind at me questioning. I closed on her and gave a joyful beagle howl as I passed. The man turned, startled, but quickly relaxed when he saw me bounding up with wagging tail and wiggling body.

“Hi boy.” He knelt down to run his hands over me. “Wow, you are just the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”

I don’t know what it is about dogs that makes grown humans talk in baby talk. He scratched me behind my ears and I just about had an orgasm in ecstasy. I seriously needed to have Wyatt do this sometime. I encouraged him to continue by licking his hands and squirming around. Candy approached slowly, trying to look non-threatening, by wagging her tail and panting with tongue extended. Still, I could tell the moment the hiker saw her from the way he stiffened and caught his breath.

To ease the tension, I ran back to Candy and jumped at her face, licking her muzzle and pulling playfully at her ears with my teeth. She went along with the act, doing a play bow, and shaking her head so the blingy collar jingled its tags. Evidently, I’m a better actress in doggie form, because the hiker relaxed and even patted us on the heads as we passed. It had definitely been an awesome run. I made a mental note to do this one again, without the adventure through the elf trap, and, hopefully, with longer legs next time.

Chapter 17

“I
hope they don’t card me,” I told Wyatt as I surveyed my Halloween form in the car rear view mirror. “The only place I have to stick my license is up my ass.”

We’d managed to find an out-of-the-way place to park where I felt reasonably safe leaving my Corvette, and I’d been able to create the large, unwieldy portions of my costume uninterrupted. It had taken a while. Wyatt was irritated. He seemed to be cheering up now that we were parked and the prospect of a beverage was within his reach.

“I have a man-purse I can put it in.” Wyatt eyed the pouch-looking bag with amusement. He was dressed as an elf. Not one of the Keebler elves. More like the Orlando Bloom, Lord of the Rings, kind of elf. I’d just about passed out laughing when I saw his costume. From what I could gather, the vampires and the elves hated each other. Wyatt going to their party dressed as an elf would be like going to a Bar Mitzvah in a Hitler costume. Of course the irony was lost on Wyatt, who couldn’t figure out what was so funny about the outfit. I’d explained what little I knew about vampires to him, and had managed to tell him how gloriously inappropriate his costume would be before I dissolved into another fit of laughter. Wyatt had offered to change, but I insisted it was brilliant, and I wouldn’t have him wear anything different.