The Night Beat, From the Necropolis Enforcement Files (25 page)

“Bad night, Vic?” Clyde asked, as he slowly lowered the weapon he’d had trained on the door.

“You tell me, you’re the one sporting the Duster.”

Clyde didn’t normally hang around the entrance to Necropolis Enforcement. He also rarely if ever carried a Duster -- not the long coat they wore in the Old West, and not something with feathers on it. Dusters were the final solution for undeads, their shots containing a mix of everything known to destroy any and all unalive beings with some extras thrown in just in case. They were weapons of vast, scary power, and only a few were allowed to carry them in non-war situations. Clyde was one of those few -- age and experience had a lot of prerogatives in the undead world -- but I hadn’t seen him wield a weapon of any kind for decades.

He did the slow mummy shrug. “True. However, under the circumstances, the Count felt it would be a good idea for me to watch the door.”

“Everyone all right?” I didn’t see or hear anything wrong, Sexy Cindy wasn’t suggesting things were going evil dead, and hard as I sniffed, nothing smelled out of place. Though I did get a faint whiff of sulfur.

“We are now.” Clyde pulled a wand out from his back. Mummies used their entire bodies as one big pocket. I was glad I couldn’t see from where exactly he’d pulled. He waved the wand around all four of us. The air sparkled.

“Pretty. Are we late for a surprise party?”

Clyde chuckled. “No. You haven’t had to deal with one of these much, I suppose. Easy way of proving you’re who we think you are.”

“How does it work?” Jack asked.

“If the air around you sparkles, you’re not possessed, turned, a dupe, or similar.”

“Dupe?” Jack sounded like he was back in class.

“Short for doppelgänger,” Clyde explained. “Since we had some fun with them earlier, the Count and I decided to go for the easy confirmation. If you’d been more dupes, the air would have looked muddy, like dried blood.”

“Gag me,” Sexy Cindy said. “So, we good to get out of the doorway or what?”

Clyde nodded, turned and lumbered off. I followed him and the others followed me. “So, what happened?”

“Well, as we know you guessed, as the Count was concluding his last conversation with you, you and Mister Wagner appeared in his office. Miss Cindy and Mister Freddy appeared as well.”

“We have…dupes?” Freddy asked. He sounded both worried and fascinated.

Clyde chuckled again. “Well, not any more. Because the Count was fairly confident he’d spoken to the real Victoria he was on guard. When Hansel, Gretel and Ralph appeared there was quite the brawl, but nothing too serious. We knew we could eliminate with extreme prejudice, and we did.” He cracked his knuckles, or whatever the mummy equivalent was. “I must say, there are times I miss active field work.”

“I don’t think I want to know, but glad it was a fun time for you. Did you get anything out of them before you destroyed? Like how many doppelgängers we have wandering around, what the plan is, things of that useful nature?”

We went past Dispatch. The smell of sulfur was getting stronger the further into HQ we got. It was clear there’d been a ruckus -- the whole place was in disarray. Beings were straightening and cleaning up. Some looked a little shaken, but most just looked like it was nice to get a break in the routine.

Clyde went to the lift. Our elevators were different from human ones -- no enclosed sides, for starters. Plenty of beings didn’t want to be boxed in, and most wanted easy escape. I made sure Jack was in the middle of the platform. For those of us who couldn’t fly or turn into something that didn’t go splat, lifts were a little nerve-wracking. For a human, it could be a thrill or it could mean total whacked out vertigo. We didn’t have time to find out if Jack liked to live on the edge in every aspect of his life or not.

He stayed behind me, so I voted not. “Are we safe trusting this?” he whispered in my ear.

I nodded.

Clyde turned around and smiled. Always odd in a mummy. “If I was turned, young man, Victoria would know.”

“How?” Jack asked bluntly.

Freddy sighed. “She’s a werewolf. Remember, dupes smell different.”

“Turned and doppelgänger aren’t the same thing,” Jack protested.

“I’d know, and so would Cindy.” I hoped, anyway.

Jack made a gagging sound. “What’s that smell?”

“Sulfur. I smelled it the moment we arrived. It was faint at the front door and is getting stronger the closer to the Count’s office we get. However, it’s not on Clyde.”

“Meaning,” Clyde added as the lift stopped, “that it’s unlikely I’m hiding a minion under my wraps.”

“Good to know,” Jack muttered as we got off and Clyde headed to the Count’s office.

“We heading to see the top dude?” Sexy Cindy asked nervously.

“He’s fine.”

“He’s a vampire, right?” Freddy asked.

“In that sense,
the
vampire, even though he wasn’t really the first.” I looked over my shoulder. “Guys, really. You’ve been around Ken, Amanda and Maurice and didn’t bat an eyelash. Why are you worried now?”

Freddy shrugged. “The way everyone talks about him….”

“You mean the way human stories talk about him or the way the undead talk about him?”

“We mean we didn’t dress to meet the head honcho,” Sexy Cindy snapped.

“Just stick your chest out. He appreciates women.” I turned back to watch where I was walking. The sulfur smell was bad and getting worse. “Clyde, seriously, why hasn’t anyone cleared this out?”

“Agent Rogers wanted you to smell it.” The Count’s office was at the end of the hall, double doors, very impressive looking. He deserved it, but I always thought he had this set up because he found it funny, not natural or necessary. However, seeing Sexy Cindy’s and Freddy’s reactions, perhaps he also did it to intimidate. Maybe I’d ask him, one day, when we weren’t in the middle of a huge altercation with the forces of evil. Or not. You know, on my whim. Not because he intimidated me in any way.

I almost couldn’t breathe the smell was so bad. I figured Ralph must have realized Jack and I were an item and was upset about it. Why else keep the stench around for my sensory enjoyment? “And you’re all letting Ralph run the show why?”

Clyde sighed as he opened the doors. “Well…you’ll understand once you see everyone.”

Chapter 37

The Count’s office was a disaster. If I’d thought the lower levels looked bad, it was nothing compared to this. Whole walls were down, I wasn’t sure if there was a piece of furniture still intact. It was too crowded in there to be sure.

Gagging from the smell, I did a fast nose count. Other than Martin and Black Angel One and Two, the full extended team was accounted for plus extras. I recognized the extras as the Dirt Corps beings who’d helped follow the scent trails the other day.

Everyone looked like they were still with us, but they all looked worse for wear, too. I was relieved down to my claws that Amanda and Maurice were ambulatory. The Count was doing the vampire hover thing, but even he looked like he’d seen some action.

As I looked around, I realized Ralph was the least injured. He was also growling, but not at anything in particular. I realized he was growling at the smell.

I concentrated and examined the scent with all my senses. I started to growl, too. I was surprised Hansel and Gretel weren’t, but managed to take a better look at them -- they weren’t looking too great. We were going to have a lot of beings heading to the hospital. Hot night for the little undeads tour group.

“You get it?” Ralph asked through bared fangs.

“Yes. Can we track it?”

“No. I just wanted you to know and to be sure that it wasn’t me making it up.”

“Ralph, there’s a lot of things I know about you, and one is that you’d never make something like this up. But, I’m glad you let me smell it for myself.” Well, glad was pushing it. But I didn’t have time to find the correct word.

“What’s Ralph talking about?” Jack asked.

“The stench, I’m sure,” Sexy Cindy said, waving her hand in front of her face. “Damn. I thought the sulfur was bad. What
is
that?”

Every head, even the ones that were extremely banged up, turned and every set of eyes stared at her.

“What do you think it smells like?” I asked carefully.

“Shit, of the worst kind. Mixed up with, I don’t know, skunk stink and, gag me, rotting parts.” Sexy Cindy was gagging for real. “How can you all stand it?”

Ralph and I exchanged a look. “Only Ralph, Hansel, Gretel and I actually
can
smell it.”

“Girl, the place reeks. You telling me no one else is ready to toss it because of breathing?”

The Count floated down and landed next to her. “How did they miss you?” he asked softly. “How did they let you escape?”

The answer came to me. After all, I’d spent a lot of time with her now. “She’d shut her brain off, to survive. And she’s like a chameleon in a lot of ways -- when she’s around scum, she reflects them. When she’s around good beings, she reflects that. They only saw the cheap hooker side of her.”

“I didn’t,” Freddy said loyally.

“That’s true,” Sexy Cindy said. “Freddy always told me I was a lady. But then, he was a professor before he fell on hard times.”

“Professor of what?” It had never occurred to me to ask.

“Theology,” Freddy replied, as if it had no bearing on this entire situation.

I nodded and refrained from kicking myself. “Yeah, they missed both of you. I mean, we did, too, but they had more time to sniff you out than we did. What did you two do when they did that incantation?”

“We booked it out of there,” Sexy Cindy said in between gagging. “Went to the shelter for the night.”

“So Abaddon never saw them, never felt them,” Ken said quietly from behind me.

“Therefore, Apollyon wouldn’t have known to dust them.” I looked back to the Count. “They stay with me.”

He nodded. “I agree. However, I believe I must insist that you have angelic support and protection as well.”

Jack groaned quietly. “Before that, you mind telling the rest of us what’s so special about Cindy and Freddy?”

Ken cleared his throat. “I didn’t realize, or I would have given them more undead options.”

“Not your fault,” the Count said soothingly. “Not all the fallen are found, and all the Gods and Monsters work in mysterious ways, you know that.”

“Fallen what?” Jack asked, cop voice back in place.

“Fallen angels.”

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me,” Sexy Cindy said. “I ain’t no fallen angel.”

“No, you’re not. ‘Not all the fallen are found’ is an undead expression,” H.P. explained. “It started with the true fallen angels, of course, but it’s expanded in its usage to cover any time a mistake is made with resurrection or the creation of an undead.”

“You saying we shouldn’t have been turned into undeads?” Now Sexy Cindy sounded ready to cry. “You think we belong in the dirt and the dark?”

I was still in full werewolf form. Didn’t matter. I put my gun and mini-bow away, went to her and put my foreleg around her. “No.” I put my other one around Freddy. I had a feeling they were both going to have some trouble with what I was going to say next. “We’re saying that when Ken brought you to the undead side of existence, he gave you a limited range of options.”

“Dude never stopped talking,” Sexy Cindy said. “It was like this never-ending list.”

“But in that list, only a few options stood out to me,” Freddy said thoughtfully. “Zombie, lich…warlock. I picked zombie because it seemed the most…right.”

Sexy Cindy nodded. “Yeah. I picked succubus because, well, it sounded like me.”

I cleared my throat. “How about ‘angel’?”

“H.P. just said they weren’t fallen angels,” Jack protested.

“They’re not. A fallen angel originated from the angelic plane and fell from grace.” I sighed. “They’re like Martin. They could have, and probably should have, angelicized.”

I’d been right -- they both started to shake. I held onto them and held them up.