Black Dog Short Stories (10 page)

     Thaddeus paused. How often had he faced off against the Beast, determined not to let it pull him along with what it wanted
because DeAnn wouldn’t like it?

     After that first meeting, after DeAnn’s momma had done the Calming on him and the whole world had changed, Thaddeus had been fascinated by the Pure. To hate them so much! And then see them change right in front of him to something beautiful!
Beauty
wasn’t something a black dog noticed, much. But after the Calming, he suddenly seemed to have attention left over for noticing all kinds of things. The fragrance of a flower became something to enjoy, along with the scent of blood. Watching a mom with her kid on a playground became something more than, better than, just watching potential prey. His Beast was still there, still in him every minute, but it was like it had been shoved more toward the side, like suddenly there was more room for his own thoughts and feelings.

     The Calming made it so much easier to be a real person as well as the Beast.

     Thaddeus’s father had not wanted to expand his territory west. Fighting Schoen wasn’t a good idea. She was in her fifties, older than any other black dog Thaddeus had ever heard of. She lived alone and hunted alone and fought alone, but she’d lasted so long because she was just that tough. Nobody wanted to fight her. Besides, they needed her out there. Chicagoland was so big, it took several strong black dogs to keep down the curs and avoid Dimilioc attention.

     So DeAnn and her mother eventually moved south instead, into the heart of Thaddeus’s father’s territory. The move got them a little farther from the vampires and blood kin downtown, too, which was even more important. This time the move was easy and almost safe, because Dan Williams and his son made damn sure of it, hunting curs and moon-bound shifters with dedicated fury for a week beforehand and then making sure the move took place at the new moon.

     That was how DeAnn got to go to a real school. It wasn’t a great school, but it was safe, because Thaddeus went with her. There were gangs, but that wasn’t the danger. Not for DeAnn. Just having her around seemed to calm trouble down, make people a little nicer to each other.

     No, the problem was the constant worry that a vicious young black dog might suddenly catch her scent. Thaddeus remembered vividly how that had felt. He knew any normal black dog would go straight for her, no matter what. Of course she had the protection of her magic, but the school was a big place and she was just a kid, she couldn’t make the school and grounds and whole
neighborhood
safe.

     But Thaddeus could make it safe for her. He loved that he could make it safe for her, that he could give her something she really wanted.

     He’d never gone to school before. He’d never wanted to, but DeAnn did. She was smart, and she liked people. Thaddeus wasn’t so smart and he didn’t like anybody, but school was kind of fun if you didn’t take it seriously. Even in his human form, Thaddeus was way too big and fast and ruthless to have trouble with gang members or ordinary bullies or jocks or teachers—and with his Beast waiting just beneath his skin, less trouble still.

     He liked watching the human kids. They were so soft and vulnerable. They didn’t know how to protect themselves at all. Weak, soft, clumsy . . . he liked to watch them, especially in groups. He could have killed a dozen any time he wanted. Two dozen. Just rip into them with claws and rage . . . but DeAnn wouldn’t like it, of course. So he wasn’t really tempted. Even if mass slaughter like that hadn’t been against the rules.

     No one watched him in return. Not openly. Some unacknowledged instinct made not only the other students but also the teachers avoid Thaddeus’s gaze and give him a whole lot of extra space. So he hung out in the classrooms and the halls and kept an eye out for DeAnn and watched the show, and every now and then read a book because DeAnn wanted him to. Some of them were even kind of okay. He sort of liked the story about the bear. He liked the dog in the story, the dog named Lion. Even though Lion was a stupid name for a dog. He even wrote a paper about that dog. DeAnn wanted him to, and explained about commas and how to quote things, and he wouldn’t of wanted to bother with things like that every day, but it was okay. The teacher gave it back to him, with a B and a little smiley face next to the grade, and told him he should turn in more papers, that he could certainly pass the class. Thaddeus was surprised to discover that he kind of liked the teacher saying that, even though he didn’t care about passing anything.

     “See? Mr. Theodore’s a good guy,” DeAnn told him, smiling. “He likes you.”

     “He does not,” Thaddeus scoffed.

     “He likes anybody who can write a decent paper—even big, scary dudes like you. Hey, I memorized a real long poem. Want to hear? It’s about bells. It’s got great words. The part about iron bells rolling on the human heart a stone is all grim and scary—you’ll like it.”

     So that was a taste of real life. It was almost like being an ordinary person. DeAnn did that for him, made him into someone who could seem, more or less, most of the time, like a normal person. She could make him have enough room in his own head and heart to
want
to seem like a normal person, when for years he’d seemed to have less and less room all the time—he could look back on his life and see that, now. He loved her for it, and made a new set of rules for himself based on what she wanted him to be.

    
Because DeAnn wouldn’t like it.
That was the line between what he would do and what he would refuse to let the Beast do. That was the leash he had on his monster.

     And now here he stood, decades later, and this kid had the nerve to face him straight up and claim a leash like that one?

     “Your granddad’s gonna die,” he said at last.

     “No!” the kid said instantly. He squared off, straightening his shoulders and glaring at Thaddeus. Not quite attacking, no—his black dog instincts must be telling him
exactly
how far out of his league he was. He said instead, desperate and sharp, arguing because all he had was words even though words were never a black dog’s best thing, “They’ll
all
have guns by the time you get back there. Silver bullets, some of ’em! You won’t—”

     Thaddeus held up one hand. “Not me. The old man with the scythe.
Old
age
, kid! How old’s your granddad? Ninety years older’n God, he looked to me.”

     The kid took a breath, watching Thaddeus warily. He said at last, “Doesn’t matter. Won’t matter. How you think Qingming would work for me if I been killing people? My grandfather wouldn’t like it any better just ’cause he was dead!”

     “Yeah?” said Thaddeus. “What’s your name, kid?”

     Another wary look. “Lee.”

     “Lee, sure. You ever hear of Dimilioc, Lee?”

     A wary headshake.

     “Yeah, you don’t know much. Damn good thing you got that granddad of yours. You been listenin’ to him and that’s good. But now you listen to me, kid. Dimilioc don’t like strays making trouble, understand? But strays who keep the rules, sometimes Dimilioc looks the other way. You know the rules, kid?
Keep a low profile
, that mean anything to you? Don’t kill people, above all don’t let any stupid black dogs kill people or rape girls or whatever shit like that, because any Dimilioc black wolf who comes to deal with them, he might just deal with you, too. You hear me?”

     A slight nod. Thaddeus couldn’t tell whether the kid was actually listening or not. He said, “Dimilioc’s got more room in it than it used to. A lot more room. You think about what I’m tellin’ you. When your granddad’s gone, Lee, you gonna find your Beast pushing you hard. They get stronger anyway, and then you get into trouble, you hear me?
Before
that happens, you come to Vermont—”

     “Vermont!”

     “Shut up and listen. You come to Vermont if you find your Beast pushing you too hard, getting out of control. You come to Newport and then once you’re there, you ask around for Dimilioc till a black dog turns up and wants to know who’s asking. And then you tell him you’re looking for me. Thaddeus. You got that?”

     A nod, which didn’t mean the kid agreed. That kind of submission was just meant to appease a stronger black dog. Thaddeus knew all about that. But he thought the kid would remember. Maybe he wouldn’t take that advice. But time would pass and his granddad would die and his Beast would get stronger . . . and at that point, maybe he would.

     And at that point, maybe Thaddeus would be able to give him a hand. If Grayson Lanning didn’t kill him in the meantime, for disobeying orders, or disrespect, or whatever the fuck.

     “Yeah,” Thaddeus said to the kid. “Well, remember. And in the meantime, you listen to me:  you don’t hunt people and you lay off dogs, hear me? Rats are fine, but people don’t like monsters killin’ their dogs. You do what your granddad says and you keep your Beast leashed tight. And you meet a Pure woman, kid—you know the Pure?”

     A headshake.

     “If you do, you’ll hate her on sight. That’s how you’ll know her. But it’s your Beast that’ll hate her, not you yourself. You listening to me?”

     Another tight little nod. “Yeah.”

     “You kill a Pure woman, nothing can save you. But you stay smart and keep that leash tight and don’t hurt her and she can save
you
, hear me? You ask her to do the Calming on you, you hear me, kid? That’ll change your whole fucking life. You hear me?”

     Another, “Yeah,” and who knew what the kid was thinking, but it was the best Thaddeus could do.

     “Then get,” said Thaddeus, and jerked his head back the way they’d come.

     No questions. The kid took a wary step away, not really believing it, Thaddeus could tell. Expecting to get just so far and then Thaddeus would let his Beast up and come right after him, the chase, the hunt, the brief savage fight at the end, with its outcome never in doubt. Yeah, the Beast wanted that. Thaddeus held it on a tight leash while the kid turned at last and walked away, not running—running would draw pursuit, the kid knew it, and Thaddeus wondered again about the kid’s father and who’d taught him anything about being what he was.

     No telling. No dad in the picture at this point, that was clear. Just the granddad. Who seemed to be enough, at least for now. Thaddeus stood in the dark and watched till the kid was out of sight and cursed himself for a soft touch and a sentimental fool, but he held his Beast and didn’t take a single step in pursuit.

     Instead, once the kid was out of sight, he turned and strode back east, back toward the hotel where they were staying. Right downtown, right where the vampires had once ruled; that was a kind of statement there, too.

     Grayson Lanning was already at the hotel, settled in his half of the suite, with the curtains pulled open to let the moonlight in and only one dim lamp turned on, in the corner. He’d been back long enough to shed the anger and intensity of the hunt and seemed now like a bank manager or something

              Well, okay, maybe the guy who managed a bank for the mob or something, nothing could mask that kind of aura.

     Grayson had his laptop open on one of the small hotel tables, but he was standing in the middle of the suite’s common room, facing the door, when Thaddeus opened it. He looked him up and down, his expression unreadable. Thaddeus had, as always, the strong sense that the Dimilioc Master could look straight into him and see not only him, but also his hidden Beast.

     “Well?” said the Master.

     “Yeah,” said Thaddeus. He wanted a shower and something to eat, chips or something like a normal person would want, something to make himself feel normal. Or else he wanted a hard run in the forest, a hunt with blood at the end. Most of all he wanted time to get himself ready for this. But he’d had time, all the time to walk back to the hotel from Chinatown, and it hadn’t helped at all. More time wouldn’t help, either, and he knew it.

     He said, to delay the moment, “How about you, you have any trouble?”

     Grayson gave him a long look, but then lifted his shoulders in a minimal shrug. “The strays were fairly strong, but stupid.  There was no difficulty.”  He paused, then added,  “I trust the stray you pursued gave you very little trouble as well?”

     At this point Thaddeus just wanted it over, so he said, as quick and blunt as he could, “I caught him, yeah. He was just a kid, with a grandfather—a human grandfather. He’s trying hard to be decent ’cause of wanting to keep the old man happy. I told him stay out of trouble, keep quiet, don’t kill people, when his grandfather passes he should come to Dimilioc—” at that point, Grayson’s raised eyebrows brought him to a halt. Though that was fine. Thaddeus didn’t have much idea what else he could say.

     “Indeed,” said Grayson, in his most unreadable tone. “I don’t recall specifying an exception for young strays with grandfathers.”

     “Yeah,” said Thaddeus. “No.”  He waited. He didn’t look down, though black dog instinct pushed him to flinch. Grayson scared him. Only two people in the world scared him, and Grayson Lanning was one of them. He didn’t know whether the Dimilioc Master was stronger than he was, didn’t know who would win a one-on-one fight. It didn’t matter. Even if Thaddeus had been sure he could take him, Grayson Lanning was a scary dude—and he had Ezekiel Korte at his back, even if the young Dimilioc executioner wasn’t physically present in this very room right at this exact moment. If Thaddeus did kill Grayson, there was no way Ezekiel would just let it go. That was always something anyone had to have in the back of his mind when he thought of challenging the Dimilioc Master.