Moonshine

  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 teaspoon. 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.

  The solitary howl of pain and loss was followed by one of unadulterated murderous fury. What remained of the wolf might not have much time left to him, but he was going to make the most of it. He spun on one back leg and propelled his mass toward us. It was an unbalanced rush, but powerful as a freight train just the same. Nik, who had landed lightly beside me after being bucked free of Cerberus, murmured matter-of-factly, “Do him the mercy.”

  It would be an act of mercy. Did he deserve mercy? Doubtful, very goddamn doubtful. It didn’t matter; I gave it to him anyway.

  I emptied the remaining four rounds into his skull. It was amazing what you could accomplish with the luxury of aim and a handheld cannon sturdy enough to survive a four-story fall. Bone disintegrated, flesh peeled away in chunks, and a giant fell. A look of incomprehension flickered in swirls of black and copper and then died along with Cerberus. He changed back. That part of the legend was true. A nude heap sprawled in a tangle of muscular limbs and cold metal. He was still larger than life, but the misdirection of size didn’t change the fact that now he looked human. Odd, yeah, but human. An unsettling quirk of chance had caused the two ruined heads to roll toward each other, and rest forehead to shattered forehead. Brothers. I tightened my jaw and slid my gaze away, focusing on Niko. “You want your sword back?”

  “A given. I’ll retrieve it.” He looked me up and down, then zeroed in on my gore-covered face with a concerned frown. “Is any of that yours?”

  “No, believe it or not.” Putting the gun away, I swiped a sleeve across my face. “Miracles do happen.”

  “Yes, they do.” He dipped a hand into his snug black jacket, then extended it toward me. “Here. Something else you misplaced.”

  It was the crown. I’d known he would find it below, but I couldn’t deny the relief that thumped behind my ribs, liquid and warm. I accepted it, turning it in my hands, one way, then the other. The metal was cool to the touch, the stones even colder. That flash of heat I’d thought I felt before was nowhere to be found. “Hard to believe,” I said softly. The unsaid conclusion echoed my earlier thought. Hard to believe this was worth George’s life. Nik’s hand gave my shoulder a brief squeeze of agreement before he moved over to Cerberus to work his sword loose. I moved as well, toward the far edge of the roof. There the illumination from the streetlight was brighter as it drifted up from below. The dark gold appeared brighter, but things weren’t any more clear. It was just a . . . thing. A piece of crap. Nothing.

  And then it was. Literally nothing. In my hand . . . nothing.

  He came out of nowhere . . . like all bad dreams do. He must’ve been perched on the side of the building, waiting. They were good at that—waiting. One moment I stood alone and the next he flowed up over the edge to stand before me, a horrifically distorted reflection.

  I froze. I’m not proud of it, but it’s a fact—one of those cold, hard ones you’re always hearing about. He stood there before me, simply stood . . . as if he wasn’t a ghost. Wasn’t a figment from a life now led only in nightmare. Wasn’t Auphe.

  Transparently white skin, narrow face, sullenly burning molten eyes. Flaxen hair lifted on a nonexistent wind, and a thousand needle teeth bared and washed with a foaming saliva. It was a sight I’d thought I’d never see again. “Traitor.” The voice was flat and harsh, the dry rasp of scales across a stone floor. “I’ve been searching for you.” He crowned himself with the gold circlet that had been so easily snatch
ed from my paralyzed fingers before he flashed a taloned hand toward my throat. “High and low.” The claws punctured skin without the restraint Cerberus had shown. “Far and wide.” The face leaned close to mine until its fetid breath soured the air in my lungs. “Here and now.”

  My eyes closed involuntarily. They believed wholeheartedly what my mind wanted to. It wasn’t true. It was an illusion. It was a dream. I’d open my eyes and it would be gone. Just like that . . . gone. Only it didn’t happen that way.

  “I am the way, tainted cousin.” The grip on my airway tightened. “I am righteous vengeance. You cannot close your eyes to that.”

  Transfixed, immobile . . . fucking useless. I should’ve shoved the fear and terror down. I should’ve concentrated on the loathing . . . the hate. Submit to an Auphe? Lie down for this pasty-ass shithead? No. No. I could snap the heel of my hand under his pointed chin and shove him away. I could plant a foot in his gut and throw him over the edge. The motions were so clear in my mind. I could see them, but I couldn’t move. He was half the size of the Cerberus wolf, and still I couldn’t move. Everyone has something in their life, in their world, that can break them. You might not be able to imagine it or to even fathom it exists . . . but it’s there. For every single person, it’s there. Mine, however, couldn’t break me. It was far too late for that.

  Couldn’t break what had already been broken.

  “Get away from him.” Niko’s taut voice was behind me. It couldn’t have been far; the roof wasn’t that large. There was no reason he should sound a world away. “Get away from him now.”