In any event, I eased the door open and stepped in. I paused just inside, letting myself acclimate to the sounds of the house. Drips of water fell from my clothes onto the floor, pooling about my feet. I kept my breathing steady, willing that fire inside my belly to warm me. To my surprise, a little bit of extra concentration brought a warm glow to my skin. I was no longer cold. My teeth no longer chattered. Instead, my senses felt primed.

  Weird.

  I moved from the back of the house, clearing each room as I did so. I could hear nothing that might betray who was inside. But at the foot of the main staircase leading up to the second floor, ambient light spilled down.

  I had to climb the steps in order to find out who was there.

  As I started lifting my right foot though, my gut twinged so hard that the pain nearly caused my knees to buckle. Instead of putting my foot on the steps, I pulled it back and down, keeping it on the first floor.

  As I did so, I caught a glimpse of movement from just outside the periphery of my vision.

  But by then it was too late to react.

  I was knocked sideways - tackled by something huge - and my knife skittered away in the darkness.

  Whatever this thing was, it had the stench of a damp dog.

  I caught a whiff of its breath and nearly gagged. It smelled like fetid death wrapped in a bag of feces.

  The roar of the creature as it came astride my chest caused the walls of the house to shake. I could barely wrap my hands around its throat to keep it from ripping out mine.

  I bucked my hips, trying to dislodge it, but it dug its claws into my chest, ripping bits of skin in the process, since the coveralls offered no protection.

  I caught a whiff of copper in the air and knew it was my blood. I rolled, and this time managed to move the beast just enough to work myself out from under it. Instead of fighting to stay atop me, the beast jumped clear, skidded to a stop a few feet away, and then turned back around on me, its red eyes gleaming in the darkness.

  I faced it head-on, my legs spread on bent knees with my hands out in front of me, ready to take it on. If I’d had my knife, I might have been lucky enough to stab at it as it rushed me.

  But I didn’t. All I could do was wait-

  It was atop me before I could even see movement. We crashed back down to the floor with me barely able to tuck my chin to keep the back of my head from being knocked senseless against the floor.

  I felt something hard underneath me as I struggled to fend off the snapping jaws of the creature.

  My knife!

  I maneuvered my body to try to get it out from under me but it was tough trying to do that while the creature kept trying to get at my throat. I needed to get free, but how?

  I was sweating now. The last effects of the cold outside were gone, replaced by the exertion of fighting for survival.

  I rolled to the left and the right, trying to get my legs up and between the creature and me. I managed to get my right foot into its midsection and shoved as hard as I could, while willing the heat in my belly to explode into my muscles.

  Things started to slow.

  The creature’s attacks seemed to decrease in speed. I saw them coming before they reached me. I felt hot.

  Sweat poured from me.

  My breathing remained level, however.

  I remembered the attack that Dante had set up for me at the high school track. How it felt fighting multiple attackers like that. How I had moved without thinking, seen without seeing, and had done without doing.

  I felt a roar erupt from deep within my chest with such force that one moment, the creature was atop my chest and the next, it had been blown across the room, impacting the opposite wall.

  I didn’t wait, scrambled to my feet and plucked the knife up off of the floor. Just feeling its weight in my hand made me feel so much better.

  The creature picked itself up and squatted on its haunches, its red eyes burning more furiously now.

  I held the knife in a relaxed position in front of me. I wouldn’t use it until I knew I had the kill spot locked in. I needed to end this.

  Waves of heat swept over me, but I wasn’t exhausted by it. Instead, it energized me. As the creature moved, I moved. I was aware of everything it did now.

  And when it finally came streaking at me, I saw it happen in slow time. As it launched itself up and at my throat, I sidestepped, ducking as I did so, and stabbed right up into its midsection with my knife, feeling the blade bite into the creature’s hide before sliding into the recesses of its chest.

  A sharp howl that turned to a whine came out of the creature as dark blood flooded the room. I jerked the blade free with a final tearing of its heart and watched as it fell to the ground, slid into the corner and then lay still.

  My breathing came faster now as I felt the waves of heat subside. My heartbeat ticked up a whole bunch, too. I shook my head and then went to make sure the creature was dead.

  Behind me, I heard a creak on the steps.

  I turned-

  And got blasted in the chest by an orb of blue energy.

  It shot me across the landing and into a wall. This time, I couldn’t protect my head and it knocked against a column. My vision clouded and there was a ringing in my ears.

  I searched within myself for the heat but it was nowhere to be found. Maybe I’d used it all up? Who knew?

  “You killed my pet.”

  I struggled to right myself, but my head was a mess. I could barely claw my way to a sitting position.

  On the steps, the figure was silhouetted against the light from upstairs. I couldn’t make out anything about him, aside from the fact that he was tall. At least six-foot-five inches. But he wasn’t burly. He couldn’t have weighed more than two hundred pounds.

  “What was that?” I don’t know where I found the strength to even ask, but I knew I had to play for time until I could recover enough to fight this guy.

  “A Hellhound.” He came down the steps now and knelt over the corpse of the dog I’d apparently killed. “Do you know anything about them?”

  “No, but it smelled like a wet dog.”

  “It was the greatest of all hounds.” He sighed and rubbed the scruff the creature. “Poor Bargest. You were always so loyal to me. And now look what this man has gone and done to you. Fear not, I will send him your way again, and then you may do with him as you please.”

  He rose but stayed where he was. “I have had this pet for centuries. He was my confidant and protector. And now you have killed him.”

  “Yeah,” I sat up rubbing the back of my head. “Sorry about that. He seemed pretty intent on ripping my throat out.” I felt nauseous and knew I probably had some type of concussion.

  “Oh, he was most certainly intent on killing you. After all, that’s what I commanded him to do.”

  “I don’t know you,” I said. “Why would you want to kill me?”

  “Because you killed my men at the armory.”

  I frowned. “Maleagant.”

  He sniffed. “So you know my name. How wonderful.” He turned and strode toward me. As he did so, the lights came on in the house, finally illuminating him. He’d said something about being alive for centuries but he didn’t look much older than me. His black hair was slicked back off his prodigious forehead and the hawkish nose gave him a very distinct profile.

  His smile, though. That was what set him apart. A full array of gleaming white teeth exposed themselves as he came toward me, but there was no joy, no mirth in it.

  Just pure unadulterated evil.

  “Your name is Rick Fury,” he said.

  “That’s right.”

  “I am...not so pleased to meet you.” The smile vanished. “You’re not supposed to be involved with this. You’re not supposed to even know about me. But then that damned fool Grimm is forever getting people mixed up with things they don’t understand and shouldn’t be exposed to.” He sighed. “I truly cannot wait to slice his throat open and watch the life force bleed out of him.”

  “He seemed pretty capable,” I said. “With that magic and all.”

  Maleagant sniffed. “Magic. Please. What do you know about true magic? You’ve never been a believer.”

  “Well, not until recently.” I shrugged. “I guess experience has a way of changing your perspective, huh?”

  Maleagant grunted. “Indeed.” He peered closer at my face. “You’re rather a plain specimen, aren’t you?”

  “Is that an insult?”

  He shrugged and leaned back. “Just an observation. I wonder how Grimm even found you. There’s nothing particularly unique about you.”

  “Should there be?”

  Maleagant cocked his head. “Most of you have some sort of distinguishing feature if you know what to look for. An unusual mole? A birth mark? Any of that ring a bell?”

  “I had an ingrown toenail once. Does that count?”

  “Only if that happens to be the mark of your house.”

  I shook my head, which instantly caused a wave of pain to make me wince. “I don’t have a house.”

  Maleagant laughed and I frowned reflexively because it sounded syrupy and sickening at the same time. “You all have a house. The whole cursed lot of you.”

  “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

  “Don’t you?” asked Maleagant. “Isn’t that why you agreed to come on this quest to locate the jacket? Isn’t that why you agreed to help Grimm, of all people?”

  I frowned. “Look, I had some time off from work and Dante told me he’d pay me two million dollars if I was able to obtain the jacket. That’s a lot of money. I can buy freedom for the rest of my life.”

  Maleagant sniffed again. I wondered if he had a cocaine addiction. Probably not.

  “Two million dollars is a pittance.” He waved his hands and a huge pile of money appeared on the floor in front of me. “There it is. Two million. Unmarked United States currency. You could take that and launder it anywhere and you’d be free to go and live out your boring existence elsewhere.”

  I could smell the money. I reached for a packet of twenties.

  “But the jacket is worth ever so much more than two million measly dollars.” Maleagant snapped his fingers and the money vanished. “And you should know that if Grimm had been forthright with you about everything you’re currently mixed up with.”

  “Did he lie?”

  “Oh no,” said Maleagant. “He tried his best not to lie. But he is very good at conveniently forgetting to, shall we say, include all the necessary information about these things.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like the real value of the jacket, for one.” Maleagant smiled again. “And the truth about your past, for another.”

  “What about my past?” My head felt a bit better. I just hoped I could take this clown on when it came time to kill him.

  Maleagant shook his head. “No, it’s not really my place to tell you. Not yet, anyway. Not when we have other things to do in the meantime.”

  “What things?”

  “Finding the jacket for one,” said Maleagant. “I need your help to acquire it.”

  16

  “I’m not helping you with shit,” I said.

  Maleagant only smiled again. Who did this guy’s teeth? They were almost unnaturally white. “I’m afraid you don’t have any choice.”

  I tried to reason with him. “Look, I really don’t think I can help you with this. If you’re looking for the jacket, then I’m definitely not going to be an asset to you. In fact, the only chance I had of finding it vanished when my boat was attacked out on the Bay.”

  “Ah yes, that.” Maleagant nodded. “I’m afraid my associates got a bit too zealous with a rather simple job. You were both supposed to make it ashore and find your way here.”

  “So you were behind it.”

  “Of course.”

  I nodded, making a mental note that he had just signed his own death warrant. “Too bad Charade couldn’t be here with us.”

  Maleagant shrugged. “Collateral damage is an unfortunate byproduct of such things. I’m sure you know all about that, being the sort of spy that you are.”

  Did anyone in the magic world not know who I was? Honestly, there was no operational security anywhere apparently. “I’ve always tried my very best to mitigate any chance of that on my operations.”

  “And most of the time you’ve been successful.” Maleagant held up a finger. “But there have been a few times when you were not so careful. Should I refresh your memory about Ras Kamboni?”

  I frowned. “I thought all my files were locked away behind a secure firewall that was impervious to any hacker around.”

  Maleagant chuckled. “Physical limitations such as computers and software are no match for a few simple spells. I can conjure those files here if you wish. Hard copies to make it easier for you to read. Make it easier to remember. The horror you must have felt at the bombing of that orphanage. Terrible. I’d imagine you’ve tried your best to forget that night.”

  I eyed him, feeling the heat return to my belly. “You think I’ve tried to forget that? That’s how little you know me. I would never try to forget that. I want it in my head every damned day for the rest of my life so I can make sure I never let something like that happen again. I don’t need files. I don’t need to read anything. I can recall every single moment of that awful night in excruciating detail.”

  “Can you?”

  “Don’t presume to know me, you sick fuck. I was the one on the ground waiting for the team that was going to storm the building behind the orphanage for the al-Shabaab terrorists hiding out there. I sat outside all day long in the heat and humidity just waiting to confirm the location. And when I finally had it, and radioed into the higher-ups, they went ahead and canceled the snatch job, deciding instead of drop a five hundred pounder on the building. They said they could do it without any damage to the orphanage. But they were wrong. And the pilot got the target wrong, too. If his GPS had been properly calibrated then the laser lighting up the target wouldn’t have corrected and painted the orphanage instead.”

  “And there you were...watching it all unfold.”

  “Powerless to stop it. I saw that bomb come down even though it was dark. I could hear it somehow, in slow motion, watching it fall through the roof and blowing the entire building to bits. All those kids. Those workers who cared for them. Dead.”

  “And the terrorists got away.”

  I stared at him and he narrowed his eyes for the first time. “Maybe not.”

  I smirked. “You see the fault of relying on files only? You only think you know the truth. But the reality is I hunted those men down and executed them myself. One in Kenya, one in Mogadishu, and one in Namibia in some shitty little hellhole that didn’t even have a payphone. That last guy thought he’d managed to find the deepest, darkest hole to hide in. But I found him anyway. And I watched him die. Just like the others.”

  Maleagant said nothing for a moment. Then he took a breath. “You know, I admire your style. I mean, I’m standing here thinking you’re just some goody-goody type who always fights on the side of honor. But you’re dark. Very dark. And I don’t know if you know what honor is.”

  “I know what honor is,” I said. “It’s the rest of the world that doesn’t get it. They don’t understand how a man can only allow himself to be disrespected and slighted for so long before he explodes. His soul demands justice. Vengeance for what he’s had to endure. The rest of the world believes that it’s entitled to act in certain ways without repercussions. That’s bullshit. Honor demands the circle be closed. And whatever you may think of me, know this: I close the fucking circle. Not just every once in awhile, but every goddamned time.”

  “We should work together,” said Maleagant. I could use a man like you. Even if you are honorable. You skirt the line so much, it’s entirely possible you might see the common ground we share.”

  “I doubt it. Are you trying to find the jacket to help save humanity?”

  He shrugged. “I’m not so sure I am. After all, the jacket has a great many attributes that I could find of use for my own agenda.”

  “Yeah, that’s going to be a problem then,” I said. “Despite what you said about me, and granted, some of it is true, I’m still a sucker for being a hero.”

  “Heroes,” Maleagant spat. “There are none. None left anyway.”

  “That’s what you’d like everyone to believe.”

  “Show me proof that I’m wrong,” said Maleagant. “You’ll be hard-pressed to locate a real hero that walks among the common folk of this planet right now.”

  “I know plenty of warriors who would lay down their lives in a second for people they don’t even know.”

  Maleagant stroked his chin. “Does that make them heroes? Or does that simply mean they’re good soldiers because they obey orders?”

  “They’re good men and women who do the things they do because they’re driven by something very rare in our society today: a need to serve others instead of themselves. There is great nobility in that.”

  “Ha!” Maleagant shook his head. “There’s nothing noble about sacrificing yourself for others.”

  “There is if they’re your brothers or sisters. People you’ve bled beside, fought beside. People you know better than you know your own family.”

  “And would you do that? Would you sacrifice yourself?”

  “If it came to it, probably so.”

  Maleagant clapped his hands. “Well, as interesting as this conversation has been, I’m afraid time is wasting. We need to get to work finding this jacket.”

  I shook my head. “I told you: I can’t help you. I’m just a hired gun without a clue as to where it is.”

  “So you claim,” said Maleagant. “You said something about a compass?”

  “What your man at the armory was after. Thorssen gave it to us - me and Charade. When your crazy assistants attacked us on the Bay, Charade went into the drink and vanished. With the compass. I have no clue where to look without that thing. Hell, I don’t even know if it’s here precisely.”

  “Oh, it is here,” said Maleagant. “Trust me on that one.”

 

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