The Night Beat, From the Necropolis Enforcement Files (14 page)

“Tired and overwhelmed.” I shook my head. “You’re just so old you’ve forgotten what it was like.”

“Darling,” Maurice said as he swished to the door. “I was so happy to discover I didn’t have to continue to fight in the war and hide from the British, I had no transitional problems whatsoever.”

“Which war?” Jack asked as Maurice opened the door and headed out.

“Revolutionary. Ghastly times, just ghastly. I’ll say this -- nothing trumps indoor plumbing and central heat and air, nothing.” With that, the door closed and he was gone.

Chapter 22

I had the weaponry out, but getting it to the car was going to prove a little exciting, since we had to slide back to Prosaic City.

“Seriously, we can both barely carry all this stuff,” Jack protested as I put another crossbow on the stack he was holding. “How’re we going to explain it if we see someone? And do we really need it all or are you just a typical woman and you over-pack for all occasions?”

“Yes, we need it.” Well, we might need it. And better to be prepared. What if the one thing that would stop the Prince was my Evil Fairy Repellent and we didn’t have it with us? I grabbed another can and shoved it under Jack’s arm.

Laden for ancient gods, bear, warlock and potentially the Supreme Evil, I slid us across. Jack impressively didn’t drop anything. He didn’t stop muttering, either, but I let it pass.

The only beings on the top floors of the Prosaic City building were other undercover agents. So waiting for the elevator was no issue. However, we all could and did get human visitors, so being sure the coast was clear was still a necessity. Werewolf senses being what they were, it was easy for me to wait until I knew we had a clear elevator.

We loaded in and I pushed the special button that only those with top floor access had -- the Express button. We headed down to the parking garage with no stopping. Once there, however, I had to do the intent sniff and listen thing. There were a lot of human tenants going out and a few coming in. Fortunately there were several elevators and there was another special button for top floor folk -- the Door Sealed button.

After holding the elevator for a long ten minutes, the garage was clear and we headed to the car. Jack dumped the stuff in the trunk and moaned. “I don’t think I can move my arms. Hopefully nothing attacks us until I get the feeling back in my fingers.”

“Give me the keys, I’ll drive.”

He snorted. “No way.”

“I drive well.”

“You drive recklessly.”

“Do not.” Well, not always.

Jack opened the passenger door and waited for me to get in. He wasn’t normally this gentlemanly and I had to figure it wasn’t because we were now an official couple -- he just didn’t want me thinking I had a shot at the steering wheel. I gave him a dirty look as I seated myself.

He grinned, closed the door, and got in on the driver’s side. “I’m relieved our working relationship isn’t going to change now that we’re a couple,” he said with a laugh. “Where to?”

As Night Beat detectives, we didn’t have to check in at headquarters if we were in the middle of a case. The Chief would contact us if he needed to, but if we were following something, we had a lot of autonomy.

I activated my wrist-com and decided to throw the Count a bone. “This is W-W-One-Eight-One-Niner.”

“Agent Wolfe, how kind of you to follow procedures. I trust the daylight hours were good to you?”

“Fantastic. What’s our status?”

“Black Angel One has changed shifts with Vs-Seventeen-Seventy-Five and -Six.”

“What did Black Angel One have to say?”

“They shared that their quarry did nothing suspicious, but since they were following orders, they didn’t engage.”

“Fair enough. What else?”

The Count sighed. “A-Fifteen-Forty-Six has conferred and briefed Z-Nineteen-Thirty-Seven and L-Eighteen-Forty-Nine, and they are with V-Nineteen-Sixty.”

“Martin’s staying active on the team?” This didn’t bode well.

The Count sighed. “And here, I thought we were following procedure.”

“Fine, fine, carry on. Who else is with V-One-Nine-Six-Zero?” The Count got to use the shorter number codes, we agents didn’t. I was sure it was because the Count thought the whole numbering thing was ridiculous in the first place, but so far had never gotten him to admit it.

“Also with the group are L-Seven-Ten and HH and DC Sixteen-Oh-Six.”

“No one else?”

“Should there be?”

“I don’t know. I lost count a while back.”

“That remains your problem, not mine, Agent Wolfe.”

“And you wonder why I hate the call letters.” I gave up on the formality. “What about the doppelgängers? Anyone find any or all of them during the day and eliminate our problem?”

“If it were that easy, Agent Wolfe, why would we need you on the case?”

“Fine, where’re Ken and the others actually at, the cemetery?”

“If you already knew, why did you ask?” The Count disconnected. Sometimes he could be a royal pain in the tail.

Jack cleared his throat as he headed us on the fastest path to National Cemetery. “So, first question. Your agent codename -- does that stand for werewolf and the year you, ah, undied?”

“Yes.” I was glad we’d done the roll in the sheets thing a couple more times after breakfast. It muted my desire to do the roll and whine thing every time he said something intelligent or did something manly. I hoped it would last through the night.

“So, by that code, and knowing what Maurice said, he’s either V-Seventeen-Seventy-Five or -Six, right?”

“Right. He’s Seventeen-Seventy-Six, Amanda’s Seventy-Five.”

“L is lich, Z is zombie, and HH and DC are, what, hellhound and daemon cat?”

“Yep.”

He was quiet for a few long moments. “Wow. Monty
is
old.”

“Old, experienced, cagey.”

“I thought he ran his own thing, was dotted line to Necropolis Enforcement.”

“Yes, but he still has a call codename.”

“Rover doesn’t?”

“Rover’s assumed to be with Monty unless otherwise stated. Most white worms are within Dirt Corps. Monty has them assigned whatever codes he wants, I’d assume. Doesn’t matter.”

“Because Dirt Corps isn’t as good as Necropolis Enforcement?”

“No. They do their best. And they come through when you really need them.” Why I felt the need to defend Dirt Corps, I couldn’t say.

Jack smiled. “I’m not dissing them, Vic. It’s just obvious they’re not the elite.”

“True. But Rover doesn’t have a call code and it doesn’t matter because most white worms aren’t going to see a lot of active duty. Monty’s been training Rover for over a thousand years. He’s like Kato.” Prosaic City’s top police dog. Retired now, but still held as the K-9 standard against whom all others would never measure up. “But most white worms are pets.”

Jack mercifully didn’t make a joke. “I guess when you’re an undead you don’t have a lot of pet options.”

“True. For some reason, werewolves and hellhounds find others having dogs as pets somewhat demeaning. Daemon cats and feline familiars feel the same way. Undeads aren’t big on horses -- most of us can move faster on our own, and those who can’t usually prefer a smoother form of transportation. And so on. So, yeah, white worms are popular pets.” So were spiders, snakes and bugs, but only with Dirt Corps and their ilk.

“Is it true that animals are afraid of werewolves?”

“When faced with a hungry werewolf? Yeah, they should be afraid. But it’s like zebras and lions. If the lion’s full, the zebras are wary but not panicked. Same concept.”

We reached the cemetery and drove through slowly. It was quite large -- Prosaic City wasn’t small, housing several million souls, and the National Cemetery was the main cemetery for the city. It was placed on top of Necropolis’ Evangelical Quarter. I was pretty sure someone on the undead side had influenced that decision. It made the cemetery a much safer place to be than it would have been normally. It also made undead transitions for those interred there easier. Not all humans who died became undeads, but Monty was always looking for talent and really, ghosts created themselves.

Jack’s questions were causing my migraine-inducing double-vision. So I saw a solemn, lovely, well-kept cemetery sitting on top of the roofs of every kind of religious shrine known to human-, undead-, and all otherworldly-kind. If they were a good god still unalive and kicking, they had a shrine in the Evangelical Quarter.

I squeezed my eyes shut. “Jack, you need to slow down on the questions. I have to concentrate on our problem at paw. Hand. Whatever.”

“Okay. Is that you concentrating or are you seeing both worlds at the same time again?”

“The latter.”

“Sorry.”

I opened my eyes. Good. I could only see the spires from some of the larger shrines, temples and churches sticking out of the ground. I could also see Ken and the others gathered around the largest tomb in the place.

“It’ll pass. Let’s really focus on the human stuff for right now. Because potentially the Prince and/or a wide variety of his stronger minions are wandering around in the human plane with intent to destroy and conquer.”

Chapter 23

We reached the group and I did a quick nose count. In addition to everyone I was expecting, Black Angel Two was with us as well. I got the impression they’d replaced Martin’s escorts because they gave the impression they were more than willing to exterminate with extreme prejudice should anyone look at him cross-eyed.

“Who’re the chicks?” Jack asked in a low voice.

Great. I knew I didn’t want female angels around him. “Black Angel Two.” I bit the silver bullet, gave them a smile, and made the introductions. “Miriam, Magdalena, this is my partner, Jack.”

They both eyed him. “Externally…I approve,” Miriam said, right before she turned away, presumably to watch Martin’s back.

Magdalena gave him a longer look. Then she smiled at me. “I think he’s a keeper. If you can keep him alive, that is.”

“Ah, nice to meet you both,” Jack said. Then he sidled away to stand next to Monty and pet Rover.