Authors: Amber Benson
Tags: #Fantasy, #Contemporary, #Fiction, #General, #Fantasy fiction, #Fiction - Fantasy, #Science Fiction And Fantasy, #Fantasy - Contemporary
Cat's Claw (11 page)
It took me three hours and a whole lot of luck, but I made it. My feet ached from walking in sand, I smelled like vomit and sweat, plus I was way past my forty-five-minute allotted time to meet Cerberus.
Things are not looking good,
I thought as I stepped out of the tree line and onto a grassy verge. Across from the grassed-off section, I saw a long, thin dirt trail that would lead me, hopefully, to the North Gate and to my appointment with Cerberus.
Things are not looking good,
I thought as I stepped out of the tree line and onto a grassy verge. Across from the grassed-off section, I saw a long, thin dirt trail that would lead me, hopefully, to the North Gate and to my appointment with Cerberus.
The last time I’d been here was to steal one of Cerberus’s puppies, so there’d been a fair amount of sneaking involved. I’d had Jarvis with me at the time, but other than giving me a lecture about the different gates of Hell and what departed souls entered what gate, he hadn’t been too much help. Later, he’d been worth his weight in gold, but not in my dealings with Cerberus.
I stepped onto the trail, picking my way across some fallen tree branches, not even
daring
to look down at the mess I had become. Like I said before, when visiting Hell, one does
not
want to wear one’s Saturday best . . . and I was living proof of that fact.
daring
to look down at the mess I had become. Like I said before, when visiting Hell, one does
not
want to wear one’s Saturday best . . . and I was living proof of that fact.
“Poor babies,” I said out loud, looking down at my shredded boots. “My poor, poor babies.”
There was a rustling in the underbrush to my right and I sped up, trying to get away from the sound. I didn’t want to get tangled up in any other weird business while I was in Hell. I just wanted to find Cerberus, hear him out, and then get back home, where I belonged—and by “home,” I meant my apartment in New York, not Sea Verge.
The rustling in the underbrush got louder, causing me to pick up my pace even more. Whatever was making the noise hadn’t gotten close enough to warrant an all-out run yet, but I was totally starting to feel like one of those middle-aged, sweat suit-wearing ladies you saw fast-walking at the mall.
Suddenly, I caught a flash of bright yellow shooting toward me from out of the brush and I took off running. I hadn’t really gotten a good look at the thing, but it
seemed
quick and compact and ready to bite my head off without the least provocation.
seemed
quick and compact and ready to bite my head off without the least provocation.
“Leave me alone!” I screamed, too freaked-out to look back and see if it had gained any ground on me. “I don’t taste very good, I swear to God!”
Trying to run in a pair of high-heeled boots is sort of like trying to run barefoot: You step on anything less flat than the road and you end up face-first in the dirt. It didn’t take but two seconds for me to step on something hard and round, probably a rock, and go flying. I was moving with so much velocity that I actually think I was airborne for about thirty seconds before I began my descent and landed on the ground, smacking my chin into the hard, compacted dirt. I felt my jaw slam together like a pair of those fake, plastic, windup toy teeth, the taste of blood strong in my mouth. I had impacted the ground so hard that I’d nearly bitten my tongue off.
I ignored the burning pain in my mouth as I crawled to my feet and started running again—“limping” is really the correct term—fear making my heart jump around in my chest in quadruple time. Yep, abject terror is a really great motivator. It kept my feet moving long after the rest of my body had already given up.
After a few minutes of run/limping, I realized that I wasn’t being followed anymore, or if I was, whoever was doing the following had no interest in catching me. With my breath tight in my chest and a stitch in my side, I slowed down to a walk and took a tentative look at my supposed pursuer.
Sitting in the middle of the path, about fifty feet behind me, was a tiny yellow dog—not bright neon yellow like I’d thought I’d seen out of the corner of my eye, but a dusty, muted animal yellow.
“Really?” I said under my breath. “Really,
that’s
what I was running from?”
that’s
what I was running from?”
I wiped my hands on my jeans, smearing dirt and blood from my abraded palms all over them—hey, they were black, so no one could see—and hobbled back the way I had come. The poor little animal just sat there in the middle of the path, looking cowed. As I got closer, the acrid smell of urine filled my nostrils and I saw that the tiny thing had peed all over itself.
I guess I had scared
it
as much as it had scared me.
it
as much as it had scared me.
“Hey, little guy,” I whispered, crouching beside it. “You okay?”
The little animal just shivered as I spoke to it, not responding to my words. I reached out, wanting to comfort it, then immediately thought better of it when I remembered how badly pee stank when it dried . . .
on Missoni.
on Missoni.
“Oh, crap. Whatever,” I muttered, picking the little creature up anyway and holding it to me. It looked up at me, still shivering, and licked my face.
“You have foul dog breath and you smell like pee,” I said to the little guy as I cuddled him close to me. “I’m gonna smell
just
like you when this all over.”
just
like you when this all over.”
The dog gave a short yip and began struggling to get out of my arms.
“Hey now, boy, calm down,” I said, clutching the dog tighter to me. The little animal squirmed even harder and this time toenails were involved.
“Stop that,” I began, but stopped when I felt a cold, menacing shadow descend over me. Slowly I looked up, my eyes going wide as I saw exactly
why
the little puppy wanted to get away so badly.
why
the little puppy wanted to get away so badly.
Standing no more than two feet from me was one of the nastiest-looking monsters I’d ever seen. It had four sets of eyes, two of which protruded from the side of its head, and a large, slavering mouth. It had to be double my size, with a prehensile tail that was even longer. As I watched, the creature’s tail shot forward, intent on plucking the puppy right out of my hands.
“You can’t have him!” I screamed at the nasty beast as I jerked the puppy out of its reach.
The monster squatted down so that it was eyes to eye with me, both of its humanoid-looking legs bending backward instead of the way they were supposed to. It opened its mouth, revealing two rows of squat, square teeth.
“But that’s my dog,” the creature said in a very normal, if not childlike, voice.
“Excuse me?” I whispered, feeling light-headed. Had the creature just started chatting with me? Was human-monster interaction an everyday occurrence down in Hell?
“This is your dog?” I continued, looking down at the yellow dog squirming in my arms. “Are you sure about that?”
The monster nodded and reached forward with both of its hairy arms.
“C’mere, Bruiser,” the monster said and the puppy instantly started wagging its tail and squirming to get out of my arms again.
“You’re not gonna eat him, are you?” I asked tentatively, and the monster started laughing, great honking sounds issuing from deep in its sinus cavity. I wanted to ask it what kind of creature it was, but I didn’t want it to take offense and eat me, so I stayed mum on the subject.
Instead, I tried to figure out what it was by using deductive reasoning. It appeared to be a hodgepodge of a bunch of different animals all haphazardly thrown together. I noticed that while it seemed menacing, it actually had a velvet-covered black button nose, plush teddy bear ears, and brown marble eyes (all four sets) that were in direct “cuteness” disproportion to the rest of its hulking body.
“Why would I eat my dog?” the monster asked when it had stopped laughing.
“I don’t know,” I stammered, getting huffy. “Some people eat dogs. They say they taste like chicken.”
This only made the creature start laughing again. Feeling stupid, I let Bruiser go and the little dog scampered into its master’s waiting arms. The monster’s tail shot out and instantly started stroking the dog behind the ears.
“Thanks for helping me find him,” the monster said when the dog-master love fest was over.
“No problem,” I replied, rising to my aching feet. Whenever I went to Hell, I always left bloodier than I’d come.
“See you around . . . I guess,” I called over my shoulder as I started down the path again, cursing my stupidity and the fact that I now smelled like drying dog pee.
“Hey!” the monster called, catching up to me in two seconds flat. “What’s your name?”
I sighed. The last thing I wanted was a stalker straight out of Hell. No matter how cute its dog was.
“Callie. Callie Reaper-Jones. What’s yours?”
The monster stopped in its tracks and Bruiser gave another short
yip
from his perch in his master’s arms.
yip
from his perch in his master’s arms.
“You’re
her
?” the monster said, gazing at me with unfounded admiration, its four sets of eyes blinking in rapid-fire succession.
her
?” the monster said, gazing at me with unfounded admiration, its four sets of eyes blinking in rapid-fire succession.
“I’m her
who
?” I said, feeling gross and smelly and miserable, and not wanting to continue the conversation with Mr. Monster for any longer than I already had.
who
?” I said, feeling gross and smelly and miserable, and not wanting to continue the conversation with Mr. Monster for any longer than I already had.
Why couldn’t Calgon just take me away and never bring me back? Huh?
“You’re the girl that bested the Devil and won back Daniel’s life.”
“Excuse me?”
I said, needing the monster to repeat exactly what he’d just said about ten more times so I could take it all in. “Tell me what you just said, but slower and with more information.”
I said, needing the monster to repeat exactly what he’d just said about ten more times so I could take it all in. “Tell me what you just said, but slower and with more information.”
The monster nodded.
“I’m Chuck, by the way, and what I said was that you’re the lady—”
“I prefer the term ‘girl,’” I interrupted, “but go on.”
“What? Oh, okay,” Chuck continued, a little confused by my sarcasm. “Well, you’re the
girl
who beat the Devil—no one does that. You won Daniel’s life back so he could leave Hell and ascend to his rightful place—and no one does that, either.”
girl
who beat the Devil—no one does that. You won Daniel’s life back so he could leave Hell and ascend to his rightful place—and no one does that, either.”
Chuck stopped there, pleased with his knowledge-sharing ability. I gave him an encouraging smile, but inside all I wanted to do was pull my hair out. Apparently, the monster had no experience in elucidating the facts of a situation because I was
exactly
where I’d started with no more information than I’d just had.
exactly
where I’d started with no more information than I’d just had.
Argh!
“When you said that Daniel could ascend to his rightful place—” I started to say, but was interrupted by a loud
screeching
sound from somewhere deeper in the forest.
screeching
sound from somewhere deeper in the forest.
Chuck froze, listening. Then, with a hangdog expression on his face, he said: “That’s my mom calling. I gotta go.”
“Wait,” I said. “I just need to ask you a few more questions . . .”
Chuck didn’t appear to be listening to me anymore, intent now on getting home before his mother got any angrier, I supposed.
“It was nice meeting you, Callie Reaper-Jones,” Chuck said, grinning like the little kid he was. “Just wait ’til I tell my friends I met you!”
And with that, Chuck and Bruiser stepped into the woods and were gone.
“Damn it!” I said, plopping down in the dirt and putting my head in my hands to stop my chin from throbbing. I’d been so intent on pumping Chuck for information that I’d forgotten how much my mouth hurt.
This sucks,
I thought to myself as I continued to sit in the middle of the path totally not caring whose way I might be blocking. Luckily, no more unheralded guests appeared and I sat in the silence of the forest for a long,
long
time.
I thought to myself as I continued to sit in the middle of the path totally not caring whose way I might be blocking. Luckily, no more unheralded guests appeared and I sat in the silence of the forest for a long,
long
time.
This was turning out to be some day, I thought miserably to myself . . .
and it had only just begun.
and it had only just begun.
seven
I winded my way through the Valley of Death, traveled past the River Styx, and came to the North Gate without any more run-ins. While I walked, I
did
keep my eyes peeled for stray dogs and errant monster children roaming the woods. I wouldn’t have been at all surprised if Chuck had decided to get together a bunch of his little monster friends and chase me down, so he could show off “the lady who beat the Devil,
etc.
,
etc.
,” but I had no intention of being anyone’s “show and tell” subject,
thankyouverymuch
.
did
keep my eyes peeled for stray dogs and errant monster children roaming the woods. I wouldn’t have been at all surprised if Chuck had decided to get together a bunch of his little monster friends and chase me down, so he could show off “the lady who beat the Devil,
etc.
,
etc.
,” but I had no intention of being anyone’s “show and tell” subject,
thankyouverymuch
.
The North Gate looked very much the same as it did on my last visit to Hell—and this time there was even a delegation of three souls waiting to be let in! I had never seen a soul being admitted into the interior of Hell up close and personal-like before, so instead of just stumbling into the middle of the whole process and causing a scene, I hung back by the trees, watching and waiting for them to make their way through the entrance.
I had
totally
forgotten that the North Gate dealt primarily with pagans, Satanists, and atheists, so it took me a minute to realize that these were three young would-be Satanists I was spying on.
totally
forgotten that the North Gate dealt primarily with pagans, Satanists, and atheists, so it took me a minute to realize that these were three young would-be Satanists I was spying on.
I stepped a little closer and saw that the two males were
twins
, both dressed in matching black T-shirts, black jeans, and black work boots. The female, who upon closer inspection couldn’t have been more than twenty, was wearing a black stretchy dress, black leggings, and a bizarrely shiny black plastic cape. All three of them had white pancake makeup slathered over their faces and necks—the girl had added heavy black eyeliner to her eyes, so that she sort of resembled an albino raccoon—and their matching hair color was a shade of Manic Panic called Ebony. Although it had been a very long time since I’d played “Let’s shock the parents with a scary new hair color,” so Manic Panic might’ve been calling it something else by now.
twins
, both dressed in matching black T-shirts, black jeans, and black work boots. The female, who upon closer inspection couldn’t have been more than twenty, was wearing a black stretchy dress, black leggings, and a bizarrely shiny black plastic cape. All three of them had white pancake makeup slathered over their faces and necks—the girl had added heavy black eyeliner to her eyes, so that she sort of resembled an albino raccoon—and their matching hair color was a shade of Manic Panic called Ebony. Although it had been a very long time since I’d played “Let’s shock the parents with a scary new hair color,” so Manic Panic might’ve been calling it something else by now.
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