The Night Beat, From the Necropolis Enforcement Files (7 page)

“Werewolves don’t need ranks,” Ralph snarled. “We have a pack leader and we follow his lead.”

“Her lead,” Amanda said sweetly. “Since Vic’s the leader of this team.”

Ralph started to argue but I gave him a long look and he shut up. “Let’s get moving. We can brief Hansel and Gretel on the way.”

Chapter 11

“You know, we should get H.P.,” Amanda said. “Or at least Edgar.”

“Why Edgar?” Maurice asked. “This isn’t his specialty.”

I thought about it. “Yeah, but something’s wrong. What we did should have left no trace. But there’s a strong one if Jack can feel it.”

“Thanks a lot,” Jack said.

“Not an insult,” Ken replied. “But human senses are weaker than undead senses. If you can feel it, it’s strong.”

“Nice to know I’m the team mine canary.” At least he said it with a grin.

I activated my wrist com. “Count?”

“Yes, Agent Wolfe? Is there a reason we’re chatting or do you just feel lonely and unloved?”

“I’d like to have Edgar with us.”

There was a significant pause. “Not H.P.?”

“Well, H.P. did his thing earlier and I know he’s having fun helping indoctrinate the new recruits we bagged. Besides, something’s off, and that usually means human intervention in some way.”

“You’re the field agent in charge.” The Count didn’t make this sound like a stirring endorsement.

I pulled out the big gun. “Ken agrees with me.”

“Oh, fine.”

I hated having to do it, or admit it, but Ken was the best agent we had. He was probably the best undead in centuries. I knew the Count was grooming him to be his replacement. Even eternal undeads can crave retirement, after all.

Ken had the whole package -- handsome, brilliant, fastest learner around, photographic memory, natural leader. One of the few newer undeads who could interact naturally with the ones who’d been undead for millennia as easily as one formed the day before. Compassionate and caring without being sappy, gentle and kind while never being weak, never made someone else feel like they were less than he was unless it was necessary for his team’s survival. And yet, somehow, I’d dumped him. And didn’t regret the choice. Maurice felt there was something seriously wrong with me, and he was probably right.

“Edgar will meet you outside the OLOC,” the Count informed me.

“What’s he doing in Prosaic City?” There was a significant lack of an answer. I did the math. “H.P. was already worried and he asked Edgar to take a look, right?” The academics always stuck together.

“And this is why you’re considered our best field agent. Yes. Please proceed.” The Count actually sounded pleased. It was always nice to impress the boss. I didn’t feel like I ever did it often enough.

“Will do, over and out.” I thanked Clyde and his staff for their help, jerked my head at my team, and headed off.

“I’m getting confused,” Jack said to me as we rode the moving sidewalk back through the OLOC.

“That’s natural.”

“No. I mean, I wouldn’t have thought the three-headed dog and the cat that looks half-human would have
been
humans originally.”

“Oh, that. Well, it’s kind of complicated, but I’ll try to do a fast overview of Edgar’s ‘The Undead World’ class. Undeads can be made or born. The original ones were born, or hatched, or whatever.” I had no idea how white worms actually reproduced and had less interest in finding out.

“Where did they come from?”

“Depends on whose theory you agree with. Some say the Prince created them. Some say it was one or more of the gods. Some say it was an accident, sort of like life forming here in the first place.”

“So Earth’s the only planet with life on it?”

I snorted. “Hardly. But life is still rare, percentage-wise. I mean, when you consider all the universes.”

“There’s more than one universe?” Jack was starting to sound like he was getting a headache.

“Yeah. You know, let’s just focus on Hansel and Gretel for the moment. They were never human siblings. Humans don’t turn into hellhounds or daemon cats. Demons do.”

“So they’re evil?” Jack didn’t sound like he believed it, which either showed his insight or naiveté. I went for insight.

“No. Demons aren’t born evil. They’re just born in the nether realms. They have souls and so have the same choices the rest of us do -- serve the Prince or refuse and fight him. If you want to get technical, an altar-demon’s soul is pledged to a god and hell-demon’s soul is pledged to the Prince. If an altar-demon runs into a werewolf and gets bitten, then they don’t change into a wolf, because only a human base gives you a werewolf. They turn into a daemon cat or a hellhound, depending.”

“Depending on the sex?”

“No, natural proclivity. Hansel and Gretel could have both been one or the other, or switched, but this was what was ‘right’ for each of them. Good for us, by the way, because many times hellhounds and daemon cats fight like, uh, cats and dogs, but having a team of them is really helpful.”

Jack seemed to consider this. “You know, here’s something else. You call yourselves undeads. But you’re alive. I mean, you breathe, you eat, you sleep. I can understand why many of the others are undeads, but not you, or them,” he indicated Hansel and Gretel.

“Well, they stopped being otherworldly and I stopped being human. Essentially, those parts of us died. Demons, like humans, have average lifespans. Once you’re a werewolf, hellhound, daemon cat, or any of the other species we call part of the greater undead, you can unlive forever. You can be destroyed, of course -- dusted or so damaged you’re unable to function -- but it’s much harder. So, we’re part of the undead, no longer a part of the living worlds we came from.”

“That must be hard,” he said softly.

I shrugged. “It’s not too bad. There are a lot of benefits. And the undead community is pretty welcoming. Besides, the alternatives for some of us made becoming an undead very appealing.”

“Like what?”

I was saved from avoiding an answer by our arrival outside of the OLOC and the appearance of a thin, sad-looking man with a receding hairline. His face wreathed in smiles when he saw us, though.

“Victoria, my dear, I’m so relieved you weren’t badly injured.” Edgar gave me a hug, then shook hands or paws with the males, depending, hugged the females, and patted Rover. He turned and looked expectantly at Jack.

“Edgar, please meet Detective Jack Wagner, Prosaic City P.D. Jack, this is Doctor of Demonology Edgar Allen Poe.”

Jack’s mouth dropped. Edgar twinkled and gave him a sweeping bow. “At your service.”

Chapter 12

I wrapped my arm through Edgar’s and Amanda did the same. Gretel adjusted her size and jumped up onto his shoulder. H.P. was fun and polite and fatherly; Edgar was charming, he loved the ladies, and we loved him right back.

Even though he was actually a lich, I always thought of him as a man, mostly because he was so young, as liches go, that he was at no risk of turning stone-like and none of his parts ever wobbled, let alone fell off. Monty assured me that in a few hundred years Edgar was going to stop being the ladies’ man of the lich set, but I didn’t worry about it and I knew Edgar didn’t, either.

It was always fun to see the other males’ reactions to Edgar’s effect on the females. It was nice to see that Jack seemed just as annoyed and jealous as the others. Maurice was the only one not bothered by it one way or the other.

“So, my dears,” Edgar said to me, Amanda and Gretel. “What is our plan?”

“Well, first off, what did you find at the scene?” That Edgar had already been to the scene was a given.

He shook his head. “Human intervention for certain. However, I have nothing more than that. Those with the enhanced senses of sight and smell need to weigh in.”

“Pretty much what we figured.” I looked around. “How do we want to get there?” I hoped someone else would suggest not flying.

“Well, I left our car the next street over,” Jack said. “I think the Chief would like it returned, so some of us can go in that.”

“I think everyone but the vamps can fit.” It would be cozy, but I was willing to sit right up next to Jack. Anything for the cause, me.

Ken nodded. “Sounds about right. We’ll stay with you overhead, though, just in case.”

We found the car and piled in. I made sure I was in the front seat next to Jack. Thankfully, I was joined by Edgar. Hansel “accidentally” shoved Ralph into the backseat and the others piled in. Gretel stayed small and sat on Edgar’s lap. No one other than Jack bothered with seatbelts -- a car crash wasn’t going to kill any of us unless we crashed into a silver and garlic factory made out of wooden spikes and filled with unholy water. And even then, our chances were better than average of not having any problems.

Jack drove quickly, but even so, downtown was far away from the OLOC. “This is cozy,” he said quietly. “You and the other girls all part of Edgar’s harem?”

“Gee, you sound jealous. I’ll be flattered later. He’s charming. More males could try that as a technique. Besides, he’s happily married.” This was true. The first thing he’d done when he’d been turned into a lich was find his late wife and see if she could become undead. She’d turned into a zombie and they had a very happy, though quiet, family life. She didn’t get involved in Enforcement work, but she did handle a lot of “wife of the dean” chores at the University. She covered those for H.P.’s side of things, too, since he wasn’t married.

“If you say so.” Jack didn’t sound convinced. I wasn’t sure if I should go for hopeful and flattered or businesslike and educational. I was saved from a decision by the radio.

“Detectives Wagner and Wolfe, please come in.” Darlene sounded stressed again. Probably not a good sign.

I grabbed the radio since Jack was driving. “Here, Darlene. What’s up?”

She sighed. We were supposed to use the official police call numbers and codes, but I almost never bothered. I had enough Enforcement info rattling around in my head; the human stuff was more confusion than I felt I needed to deal with. Besides, it wasn’t like it affected my performance. “Chief would like to know where the two of you have been. You did not respond to radio or cellular.”