Dark War (3 page)

  I glanced at Devona to see if she recognized him, but she shook her head. Whoever I'd killed, it hadn't been someone either of us knew, but that didn't make me feel any better about it. I hoped he'd be the last casualty before this day was over, but somehow I doubted it.

  The three of us continued on, throwing gas grenades and doing our best to avoid the slashing claws of the rioting Hydes. At one point, I ran out of grenades and switched to my gas gun. 

  I swiveled my weapon to the right, intending to fire a burst of antidote at a group of Hydes. But before I could squeeze the trigger, a Hyde lunged toward me from the side, a glowing blade clutched in his oversized paw. He wore the white uniform of a Bonegetter, one of Victor Baron's employees who scour Nekropolis in search of lost and discarded body parts, or better yet, entire bodies, of which there are quite an abundance, given the all-toooften violent nature of the Darkfolk. I recognized the instrument he held as a laser scalpel, a device that cuts through flesh and bone as if they were water – an exceptionally useful tool for performing vivisections on the go. Before I could react, the Bonegetter-Hyde slashed down with his laser scalpel and cut through my right wrist. My hand, still holding onto the gas gun, fell to the ground. 

  I felt no pain since my nerve-endings are as dead as the rest of me, and even if the laser scalpel hadn't automatically cauterized my wound, no blood would've spurted forth from my wrist stump. But that didn't mean I wasn't irritated to lose the hand, or more importantly right then, the gas gun that it held.

  The Bonegetter-Hyde looked at me and grinned.
  "So what are you going to do now, deader?" he growled.
  "This," I said, and concentrated.

  My hand flexed its muscles, managed to aim the gas gun's muzzle in the general direction of the Bonegetter-Hyde, and then pulled the trigger. A burst of yellowish gas shot up out of the Hyde's face, and he staggered back, coughing. He dropped the laser scalpel as he moved away from me, and I was halftempted to retrieve the device and bury it in the Bonegetter's eye for what he'd done. But I didn't. For one thing, he was already in the process of changing back into his true form, and for another, I needed to get my right hand back ASAP. 

  I knelt down and held my wrist stump out toward my severed hand. Small tendrils of grayish-green flesh extended from both the stump and my hand, and within seconds my hand had reattached itself to my body. I stood up, and since my hand still held onto the gun, I tightened my grip on the weapon to test how successful the rejoining had been. The hand flexed just fine, and I turned and fired a fresh burst of gas at another group of Hydes that were determined to finish what their Bonegetter brother had started.

  I was thrilled – and to be honest, more than a bit surprised – that the spell had worked. Over the years I've developed an unfortunate habit of losing pieces of myself in the line of duty, and I'd always relied on Papa Chatha to put me back together. But not long ago I'd literally lost my head… well, technically it had been my
body
that I had lost, but you get the idea. That injury had been beyond Papa's ability to repair, and I had to go to Victor Baron, the original Frankenstein monster, to get my head put back on my body. Papa's professional pride had been wounded, and he'd devoted himself to developing a spell that would allow me to reattach body parts in the field, at least temporarily. And what was even cooler, I could still exert control over any part of my body, whether it was attached to me or not. This was the first time I'd had the opportunity to try out the spell, and I was impressed by the results. Papa had been quick to caution me that the spell didn't make permanent fixes, though. The severed parts didn't literally rejoin with my body. They were held in place with strips of flesh, almost like bandages, and they would still function since my will animated them, but if I didn't get a more permanent repair done within twenty-four hours, any severed parts would fall off and stay off, and I'd no longer be able to control them. Still, as a temporary fix, the spell was more than adequate, as demonstrated by the fact that it had just saved my undead ass from getting sliced and diced by a homicidal Hyde wielding a high-tech surgical tool. 

  Devona, Darius, and I continued fighting, and though we finally made it to the other side of the street, we didn't get there entirely intact. I had several deep slashes on my arms and chest, as did Devona. My wounds were nothing to worry about; they didn't bleed and none of them were serious enough to slow me down, but the sight of Devona's injuries made me feel sick. They bled a lot, and even though they were healing rapidly, I couldn't help fearing damage had been done to the baby inside her. Sensing my worry, Devona gave me a smile, but it didn't do much to reassure me. Even though I knew rationally that she was all right, I also knew I wouldn't feel better until we'd done what we'd come to this dimension for and returned home safe and sound.

  Though Darius had a few scratches, he'd fared better than either of us in the injury department, no doubt having picked up more than a few survival skills during the course of his interdimensional travels. While the three of us had made it across Sybarite Street relatively intact, there was no guarantee we'd remain that way. The clouds of yellow gas we'd released into the street were beginning to dissipate, and the Hydes who'd been returned to their true forms were rapidly becoming re-infected by the plague. We'd managed to create the confusion we'd needed, but I knew it wouldn't last much longer. A few more moments, and the Hydes in the street would begin turning their attention to us, and once that happened, they'd come for us
en masse,
and no amount of strategy or trickery would save us then. We needed to get inside the
House of Dark Delights
, and we needed to do it fast.

  In my Nekropolis, the
House of Dark Delights
is flanked by two businesses, a soul-modification parlor called Spiritus Mutatio and a casino called You Bet Your Life (a name which patrons often learn to their dismay should be taken literally). In this world, it had a Flensecrafters on one side, and a talent agency called Pickman's Models on the other. Otherwise, it looked much the same: a simple three-story white building with green shingles and matching shutters, no fence around the property, no bars on the windows, no obvious signs of any security precautions at all. But I knew the
House
was almost as well protected a Darklord's stronghold. Testament to this was the fact that despite the wild, savage nature of the creatures that had taken over this Nekropolis, not one of the Hydes had set foot upon the property. The yard was intact, and the
House
's façade unmarred. We needed to get into the
House
, but attempting a break-in would be a fast, unpleasant, and extremely messy way of committing suicide. 

  Good thing I had a key.

  We hurried up the front walk and stepped onto the porch. Nothing happened: no wardspells activated, no alarm sounded, and the front door didn't fly open to disgorge someone intent on killing us. So far, so good. We were out of gas grenades by this point, so we'd drawn our gas guns. Devona and Darius watched our backs while I shifted my gas gun to my left hand and removed a key from my shirt pocket. There was nothing special about it – it looked like any ordinary house key – but when I inserted it into the front lock and turned, I was rewarded with a rapid series of clicking sounds. And while we could hear the physical locks deactivating, we couldn't hear the door's wardspells powering down, but I knew they were. Or at least, I hoped they were. When the clicking noises ended, I waited for a count of five, as I'd been instructed, then I withdrew the key from the lock and tucked it back into my shirt pocket. I returned my gas gun to my right hand, and then – even though I didn't need to breathe – I took a deep breath before gripping the door knob and turning it.

  The key had been given to us by Bennie, the owner of the
House of Dark Delights
in our world. And though according to Darius this dimension had its own version of Bennie who owned this
House,
that didn't mean
our
Bennie's key would successfully open
this
Bennie's lock, if you know what I mean. So as I pushed the door open, I steeled myself for any number of nasty physical and mystical surprises to go off in our faces, but the door swung open easily and quietly, without blasting us into nonexistence.

  I turned to tell Devona and Darius that everything was all right, only to see a mass of Hydes running across the lawn toward us. Evidently their fear of Bennie had been overridden by their desire to get their claws on some fresh meat. Devona saw the look on my face, and without turning to glance over her shoulder, she grabbed hold of Darius and me by the arm, shoved us inside, and then leaped in after us. I scrambled to slam the door shut, and flipped the deadbolt switch just as the first Hyde slammed into the door. The one switch activated all the locks, both physical and mystical, and despite the furious pounding on the other side of the door, there was no way the creatures could get inside now. We were safe, in an out-of-the-frying-pan, into-the-fire kind of way.

  I looked around, but aside from the three of us, the foyer was empty. Bennie usually has at least one bouncer working the door, more when business is especially good, but we were alone. I wasn't sure if this was a good sign or not, but since it meant no one was currently trying to kill us, I decided to take it as a positive development. 

  The
House of Dark Delights
is the premier bordello in Nekropolis. Whatever your sexual proclivities, capabilities, desires, fantasies, or fetishes, the
House of Dark Delights
can provide what you're looking for –
if
you have the darkgems to pay for it, that is. The hallways and rooms are perfumed with a variety of exotic-smelling aphrodisiacs – not that I can smell any of them or that they'd have any effect on my dead flesh if I could. And it's noisy: conversation from customers waiting for their "appointments" to begin, background music playing, laughter, sighs, moans, and cries of ecstasy or pain – often both at the same time – from behind closed doors. It was noisy, all right, but all the sound seemed to be coming from a single direction: the lounge. And instead of the usual good-natured buzz of conversation and laughter, the air was filled with guttural animalistic noises more suited to a zoo.

  I turned to Devona. "Remind me how much we're getting paid for this job."
  "Nothing," she said.
  I sighed. "Right."

  We headed slowly down the foyer and toward the lounge, gas guns held at the ready. Devona and me in front, Darius behind us, covering our rear. We did our best to move silently, though given how much noise was coming from the lounge, we really didn't need to bother. We could've skipped down the hallway singing "We're Off to See the Wizard," at the top of our lungs, and I doubt anyone would've heard us. When we reached the end of the hallway, we flattened our backs against the wall and peered into the lounge.

  This lounge – just like its counterpart back in my Nekropolis – was decorated like a tasteful upscale Earth tavern with black lacquer tables and chairs, and Mind's Eye sets mounted on the walls. The centerpiece of the lounge was a large circular bar in the middle of the room where the bartenders on duty – witches and warlocks who specialize in potion-making – mix any aphrodisiac or performance-enhancing drink you desire. Normally the lounge is pretty lively, but in the wake of the plague that had swept through this Nekropolis, it had become a scene of absolute and utter depravity that would've made Caligula himself blush like the most cloistered of nuns. The lounge was packed wall-towall with the same savage creatures that infested the street outside, and the Hydes were doing their best to cause just as much havoc: fighting and screwing – often at the same time – and roaring with dark laughter whenever one of them received an especially nasty injury. The Hydes were so numerous and they shared so many common physical traits that it was almost impossible to tell them apart, but I recognized a few. Two of the creatures had holo implants where their eyes should've been, and I guessed they were the vampires Halima and Resham, a brother and sister who often came to the lounge merely to find a place where they could sit and play holoshards for hours on end without being interrupted. They were playing games of an entirely different sort now, but not with each other, at least. One of the creatures possessed somewhat feline features, and I guessed she was Lourdes, a werecat waitress employed by Bennie, and the particularly monstrous creature who was, ah, servicing her appeared to be Lyra, a woman's spirit who'd taken up residence in the body of the genetically altered mixblood lyke who'd killed her. A
male
lyke. I thought I recognized some others, but I forced myself to ignore them. We hadn't come here to help them, at least not directly. We'd come to help the Hyde sitting atop the bar and surveying the bacchanalia taking placing place with the self-satisfied air of a proud ruler.

  This Hyde was larger and more massive than the others, nearly twice their size, and the chair that had been placed on the bar barely supported its weight. It was wearing the torn remnants of a black tuxedo, and while its profusion of body hair was just as wild and shaggy as that of the other creatures, where theirs was brown, this Hyde's was a bright reddish-orange. Given the creature's bestial features, it was difficult to tell its gender, but after a moment its facial features softened a bit and its chest swelled, and I knew that, while it had been male when we first got here, it had now become female. No doubt about it, then. It was Bennie. Sometimes Master Benedict, sometimes Madame Bendetta, but always owner and operator of the
House of Dark Delights.

  Darius leaned close and spoke in my ear, more so that I could hear him over the din than to avoid being overheard by the Hydes. "How do you want to play this? Direct assault? Sneak attack?"