Moonshine (17 page)

Shedding a few disgruntled feathers, the peri hesitated, then obeyed with a scowl. There were other customers waiting to be served, oblivious humans and creatures as odd as any peri. "Overgrown cockatoo," Robin muttered. Not wasting any time, he did his shot, my shot, then chugged half his beer. Setting the mug back down, he said with reproof, "You have mythology books in your apartment, absolute reams of pertinent information. Pages and pages. Do you use them to blow your nose or to wipe your ass?"

I snorted into my beer, then took a swallow. "They're Nik's books. Hell, you already
know
they're Nik's books. Besides, out in the wild, he points and I shoot. It's a good arrangement."

"Gods. And you embrace your ignorance. That's what so astounds me." Goodfellow shook his head and finished his beer.

I examined a pretzel carefully and popped it into my mouth. I wasn't hungry. I didn't want it, but it was there. So often in life that's what it comes down to. It was there. "Yeah, yeah. Not angels, then?"

He cast a disgusted look at me over the top of his empty glass. "Yes, that's exactly what they are. And on Fridays they have a potluck with St. Nick, the Easter Bunny, and the tooth fairy." Resting his forehead in his hand, he mumbled, "You exhaust me, I swear it."

I had another pretzel. "So," I repeated offhand, "not angels, then?"

"Hermes, blow me." Reaching over the bar, he snagged a bottle of whiskey and poured it with a liberal hand before starting the lecture. "The peris, as a race, have been around as long as I have. Perhaps longer. They've been thought to be angels, fallen angels, the offspring of demons and angels. Always colored with the brush of the holier-than-thou. Messengers. Creatures of light. Creatures of power." He laced the labels with all the mockery in him, which was a helluva lot.

"And what are they really?"

"Publicity hogs." He slammed another shot. "Nosy, pushy publicity hogs. Nothing more. Trust me, Caliban, I've seen nothing of the divine in them." His eyes went distant and dark. "Nothing of the divine in this world."

There he was wrong. Maybe I couldn't touch it or be a part of it… Maybe it wasn't for me, but there was something special to be found. In George. I pushed the pretzel bowl away. We'd needed a breather from what had happened at the warehouse, needed a moment of the mundane. Now that moment had passed. "What did the snake tell you?"

Amber glowed in his shot glass as he turned it this way, then that, in his fingers. "The crown." He drained the glass. "She'd seen it. She'd worn it. And she was not particularly impressed by it. It didn't complement her coloring." He looked down at the blue that had dried on his shirt. "Obviously."

Jewels for the mistress, as Promise had conjectured. Close. My hand tightened around the mug. We were so close. "Where is it?"

"Normally, in Cerberus's penthouse."

"Penthouse?"

"Where did you think he lived? A doghouse?" he commented cynically. "He's a Kin boss. That tends to keep you in kibble and wall-to-wall carpet. But that is neither here nor there. The crown is now in Cerberus's car, luckily for you. At least, I think it is."

"What do you mean, you think?" I demanded.

"Snakes are liars. With their last breath they'll tell you a lie." He raised a hand for another beer and finished with savage bite, "We have that in common."

It was unusual to see Robin be hard on himself. He typically embraced with a vengeance his more colorful qualities. "You're not lying to me right now," I pointed out as I slid my beer in his direction.

He accepted it and lowered the level steadily. "It's more entertaining by far to tell you the truth. Watching you ignore it and fall ass over heels into the worst kind of trouble… it's better than cable."

On that note I took my beer back. "Cerberus has three cars that I know of. A limo and two town cars." None of which had been at the warehouse today. Flay . had used one the previous night to dispose of Fenrik's body, what was left of it. He would probably have taken the car somewhere to clean it up today. Can't dump a corpse without detailing the car the next day. Now that was the law of the jungle right there. As for the other ones, Cerberus had no doubt taken the limo this morning with some of the wolves following in the other town car.

"You up for staying under long enough to search them? Another day perhaps?"

And if the succubus had been lying, I could be under much longer than another day, assuming Caleb allowed me that much time. "A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do." All the old movies said so, and I guessed the same was true for someone who was only half-man.

Robin grimaced. "Heroism can be so banal." He finished the new beer deposited before him. Up, down, bang against the bar. "Let's quit this place before we come down with a raging case of histoplasmosis."

As we stood, the bartender said sharply, "That's thirty bucks."

"Put it on Ishiah's tab," Goodfellow replied derisively. He started to walk toward the door before reconsidering. Turning back, he picked up the bottle of whiskey and carried it away with him. "This too. It's the least of what that bastard owes me."

"Who's Ishiah?" I asked as we climbed the stairs up to the street.

"Someone almost as annoying as you."

Goodfellow did have a way of ending a subject. Outside the sun was still missing in action, the claustrophobic clouds thicker and darker. It made the bloodstains on the puck's shirt an even deeper blue. On the last stair, his leg nearly gave way and I pretended not to notice as he braced himself against me momentarily to regain his balance. When Robin wanted attention, he'd let you know… very clearly and very verbally. This wasn't one of those times. Steadied, he took a swig from the bottle. "I'm going home to take a hot shower and mourn my favorite shirt. Hold my calls."

I moved my gaze from the choking sky to Goodfellow's still face and said quietly, "Thanks, Robin. For what you did." I almost said, "For what I couldn't do," but that would've been a lie. If I'd known as the puck had that it was the only way, I would've done it. Not as well, not as efficiently, but I would've done it and lived with the consequences. It hadn't happened that way, though. The consequences weren't mine to claim.

Robin didn't acknowledge the thanks. After tipping the bottle again, he said without emotion, "Find the crown." He started down the sidewalk. "Find George." Unspoken was the message: That will make it worthwhile. Hell, it might even make it bearable.

I was a hawk. Soaring high. Streetlights swung beneath me, bold as fireflies. The wind was a rushing current around me, gloating in my ear, plucking at my clothes. The sliver of a moon swam pumpkin orange off to my left, magnified in the warm air. I could've stretched out a hand to touch it.

Flying.

Only I wasn't.

A hand as big as my head held me by the throat and dangled me over the edge of the warehouse roof. Eyes the same pumpkin orange as the moon studied me with the clinical interest of a vivisectionist.

The day hadn't started out quite this crappy. I'd spent it in the warehouse, keeping my head down. It was a good idea, especially with the flying body parts. Robin had been right. Cerberus, arriving in his limo, had pinned the succubus' death on the revenant quickly enough. The rest of the day had been spent mopping up the mess and staying out of Cerberus's way. His mood, needless to say, wasn't good. Not that there was undying love between the succubus and him. She'd been convenient sex to him, nothing more. But that didn't matter. He
owned
her, and someone had dared pick his pocket. No Alpha was going to appreciate that. The sounds that had come from his office at various intervals had most of the wolves lurking by the door for a quick getaway. Roars of rage and the sound of furniture shattering against the walls didn't make for ideal working conditions. And then there had been the silence. No one knew whether to be relieved or even more panicked than they already were.

Finally, the day passed. We survived, although poor damn Mishka probably had serious doubts as to whether he wanted to. There were no jobs lined up for the coming hours and eventually the place had emptied. Cerberus remained in his office, but had calmed down enough to engage in a little cleanup of his own. I couldn't believe revenants tasted that great, but each to his own, right? He would eat; I would search. Simple. And it had really seemed that way up until the point where he caught me midsearch and pulled me from the car and tossed me bodily over it.

"Bastard thief." The words had followed me over. Apparently it was all right to steal for Cerberus, but not from him. It was when he attempted to show me just how not all right it was that I got up off my ass and ran. I left the crown. It had been in the limo after all. Under a seat. What was valuable enough to cost George her life had been discarded like trash. I could picture the succubus tossing it on the floor in a fit of spoiled pique. The jewels weren't large enough, not precious enough, weren't the right color. It wasn't flashy at all. I'd held it in my hand for nearly a full second before I'd been yanked out of the car. A simple circle of reddish gold set with the occasional onyx, it wasn't especially feminine or attractive. In fact, it looked almost… utilitarian. For one brief second I thought I felt it pulse under my hand, a single, warm heartbeat. But then it was gone—flying from my hand as I did the same from Cerberus's.

It was still down there, lying on the warehouse floor. I was counting on Niko to grab it on his way up. Not that up had been the best decision I'd ever made, but I hadn't had much choice. Cerberus had been on me fast and furious. I hadn't had time to draw my gun in the face of his unnerving speed, much less pelt across the warehouse to the front door. The stairs up had been my closest choice. Now that choice had me dangling off a building.

Not so long ago while climbing a Ferris wheel, I'd thought that I didn't have a fear of heights. As my feet kicked in empty space, I decided I might just change my mind.

"An Auphe."

"I would've been better off hiring a piranha." The heads weren't speaking the distorted words to me. No, they spoke to themselves—muzzles nearly touching, fangs half again as long as my hand dripping dark brown saliva that fell like rain. Cerberus was easily twice as large as any wolf I'd seen, maybe three times. He'd retained just enough control of his human form to remain upright. His shoulders hulked, mountain wide, under fur so black that it was nearly lost in the night. He towered almost eight feet tall; the chest was broad and made to store oxygen to feed that massive body. Legs as thick as my waist were banded with the breadth of muscle that could propel their owner unbelievable lengths. The fingers that curled around my neck were rough with callous pads thickened from years of running. The claws were jetty, curved like fishhooks, and every bit as long as the fingers. Oh yeah, and they were piercing my flesh. Fun, fun. I could feel the warmth of blood on my neck. It wasn't much blood, probably not even a tea-spoon. It didn't raise my hopes. What Cerberus had in store for me was much worse than a torn-out throat.

Abruptly, the hand dangling me over the edge shook me hard enough that I felt the vertebrae in my neck howl in protest and spots spilled across my sight. They were orange too, the spots. But through them I could still make out Cerberus. As looming as a god and inescapable as the inevitability of mortal death, he blocked out the sky, blocked out the world. Breath, hot and rank with the stench of raw flesh, passed over my face and neck… He was a predator searching for the softest and most tasty portion. My skin tightened in instinctive withdrawal. I tried to hang on to the thought that behind me, on the roof, was Niko's knife, its glass shattered. Not that I could see it, but I knew it was there.

Hoped it was there.

I'd dropped the dagger full of ingenious electronics that Niko had given me… the "My ass is in deep shit" device. I hadn't heard it hit the asphalt of the flat warehouse roof. The sound had been lost in the bass roar that had literally vibrated the framework of my chest, my ribs resonating under my flesh. The hunting cry of Cerberus, it was intended to paralyze your legs, freeze your bowels, and loose your bladder. And it might have worked—it
would
have worked—on someone who hadn't lived through the Auphe. Me? I just ran faster. But as fast as I could run, Cerberus could run a hundred times faster. One leap and then another and he was on me. I'd zigzagged to one side, sliding in the tar crumble beneath my feet, only to be snatched up… a child in the grip of a grizzly bear. Of course, not many toddlers pack a gun that could easily be strapped on a tank and used as a cannon.

Still half-blind, I scrabbled desperate fingers for the .50 Magnum under my jacket. "A toy.'" Twin maws pulled back from my throat to stretch in silently mocking laughter. "You threaten me with a toy. Shall I make you eat your toy, Auphe? Ram it down your traitorous throat inch by inch?" I was shaken again as the change-defiled voice ground on. "Or shall I put it elsewhere? Not inch by inch, but all at once."

I didn't need any encouragement to get to my gun faster. I'd seen what he'd done to Fenrik, a fierce opponent. I'd both seen
and
smelled what he'd done to the revenant earlier today. Less fierce, but the damn things were nearly impossible to kill. Revenants could regrow nearly any part, including their head. Their brains, assuming they had any, were obviously kept elsewhere. To kill a revenant you practically needed a tree shredder. Cerberus had done the job with teeth and claws, and he'd done it in under fifteen seconds. A wolf of some serious talent, my former boss, and now he was turning that talent to me. And when he said he was going to take my gun, shove it up my ass, and pull the trigger, I tended to believe him.

But first he had to get it.

He was quick, but I was quick too. I couldn't run as fast, or leap as high, but I could pull a trigger with the best of them. I yanked the Magnum free of the holster and fired. I'd picked the gun with a goal in mind. Supposedly, it could bring down a bear. A bear didn't have shit on Cerberus, but maybe I could slow him down. Slow him down, run like hell, and pray for reinforcements. Niko was just outside the warehouse; he'd be here any minute. Any second. No goddamn time at all.

Round one ripped a hole five inches across in that black chest. Round two tore flesh from his ribs. There was no round three. Cerberus staggered a step back… Jesus Christ,
one
lousy step… then he dropped me. I could carry my weapon with me all the way down or I could let it go and try to save my life. I let it go. Four stories down. In retrospect, I should've held on to it and said the hell with the whole gravity-sudden death issue, because after the momentarily sickening sensation of free fall, I caught the edge of the roof. My shoulders creaked in protest as they worked to halt my fall.

The metal under my fingers was as cool as the metal of the Calabassa had been. There was the rip and pull of the stitches in my arm popping free as I kicked my feet, trying to find purchase on the brick shell of the warehouse. I managed to snag one foot on something, a cracked brick maybe, and pushed up. Cerberus kindly helped me the rest of the way. One giant misshapen hand on each of my arms, he lifted me up high. Then, like an evil-minded child with a struggling fly, he started to pull. The pressure increased instantly to an unbearable scream of muscles and tendons pushed far past their limits. He was going to rip me apart as he'd done to the revenant, and there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it.

But someone else could.

A pale blur hit Cerberus from the side, bowling us both over. Teeth flashed yellow in the moonlight and buried themselves in the black throat closest to it. Blood surged free, turning Flay's white coat to wine. Landing on my side, I watched as an unlikely ally fought a creature even more monstrous than himself. Just as he couldn't turn fully human, neither could Flay become completely wolf. Instead, he became a rangy man-wolf, upright but crouched, covered with fur yet retaining vaguely human hands and feet. The shoulder-length hair had changed to a bristling mane, but the eyes were the same. As murder red as the hatred he was visiting upon Cerberus.

"Not stupid." The white head rose, then fell again, fangs ripping. "
Not
stupid."

It seemed Flay's Alpha had underestimated him once too often. I wasn't going to make the same mistake. But I also wasn't going to assume Snowball could take Cerberus. He wasn't a match for the two-headed wolf. Not alone.

Good thing he wasn't alone.

The familiar grip of my knife pulled from my calf sheath grounded me as I pushed up and ran across the roof. Unlike Flay, Cerberus had gone all wolf. Pure in form, infinite in rage, immense, implacable, and scary as fucking shit. Rolling on top of Flay, the black wolf planted all four paws on the ground and dived at the white throat with one pair of snapping jaws. The other head turned to gaze at me over the slope of its shoulder. Dilated pupils turned orange to ebon. Black holes sucked me in for an endless moment in time, found me wanting, then spit me back out. The head turned back and joined in the attempt to rip Flay's head from his shoulders. Part Auphe I might be, but Cerberus still considered me too human to be any threat. With soft flesh, fragile bones, no claws or fangs, and useless human weapons, what could I possibly do to him?

He was about to find out.

Throwing myself onto the broad back, I held on to the black fur with a one-handed death grip. The other hand had designs of its own. The serrated blade lodged in Cerberus's spine just above the bunch and swell of his back legs. Wolves were durable as hell, but a parted spinal cord would still give one second thoughts. Speaking of second, that was hardly my only knife. I planted the next one midway up the back. With no idea where the spinal column split off, I was more than willing to work my way up. And with more time I would have, but the split second of surprise that had frozen Cerberus passed and I was tossed off in an explosion of muscle, fur, and madness.

My plan hadn't worked; at least not completely. I hadn't sliced the cord, only nicked it, and I had my doubts that was going to do the job. Now, with one back leg hanging uselessly, Cerberus turned his attention from Flay to me. I barely saw the motion that took me down. I wasn't stupid enough to shove my arm in either mouth of this wolf. With Boaz, I'd ended up with a mauling bite and a possibly cracked bone. With Cerberus I'd end up armless. Instead, I put my faith, such as it was, in my last blade. Cerberus landed on me, his weight driving that blade into one neck. Blood immediately frothed forth in a pulsing arc. I'd hit a carotid artery. From one bubbling throat to another, I yanked the knife free and sliced again. I couldn't tell if I hit the artery that time. Already awash in blood and crushed beneath five hundred pounds of lycanthrope, I continued to slash blindly. Abruptly, the weight increased and what little air I had in my lungs was forced out. I fought against the choking bands of suffocation, tasting Cerberus's blood as it fell onto my face and lips. Slashing again with the knife, I heard through ringing ears what sounded like an entire pack of wolves snarling over me. Flay was still in the game. Subtract the added suffocation and that could've been a good thing. Then weight on me suddenly vanished and I could breathe again. I could see the sky again. I could also see the familiar face that moved into my field of vision.

"I believe you dropped this." Niko held out the Magnum and clucked a disapproving tongue against the roof of his mouth. "Very careless of you."

I let the knife fall beside me and closed a slippery hand around the butt of the gun. Dragging air back into my lungs, I coughed a few times, then sat up. "Better down there…" I said hoarsely, standing, "than where it almost ended up." But I was speaking to empty air. Niko had joined the rolling pile of bestial violence. Sure feet balanced on the slope of a shaggy back, he swung his sword high and Cerberus became as singular as he'd always considered himself to be. One heavy head was impaled, the metal length punching through skull, brain, and jaw and into the roof below. Flay used the opportunity to wriggle from beneath Cerberus. This time the blood on him was his own. Staggering several feet away, the white wolf fell, then curled into an unmoving ball. Snowball was down for the count. Cerberus… Cerberus was not.

The Alpha reared up, ripping the sword that pinned the head of his deceased twin free from the tar. The glitter of silver piercing the dangling head was brighter than the rapidly dulling eyes. Blood and brain matter dripped from the loll of dead tongue. Cerberus was dead. Long live Cerberus… but how exactly long
was
long? Not only was his back leg still useless, but the front one on the same side had stopped moving as well. What I'd started with my knife, Niko had added to with his sword. Each head controlled its side of the body, and now half that body was dead.