Mihheer was slumped in Rahim’s hands. He looked unconscious. What was left of his ruined face was a wash of red and protruding gray bone. Yellowish-green fluid seeped from a gaping hole in his head where I could have sworn he had a horn before. A couple of his teeth protruded through his lower lip, and spittle and blood ran to join the mess that pooled in his lap.
“Damn. You guys did a job on him.”
Katon chuckled and looked to Rahim. “I told you he was out of it.”
I glanced back and forth between the two as they shook their heads in something that resembled amusement. “What?” After a moment of laughing at what I presumed was my expense, Katon reached down and lifted my arm. In my hand was Mihheer’s missing horn. I tossed it aside quickly and shook the residual goop from my fingers. I looked back at Mihheer, pointing. “I did that?”
Katon nodded. “That you did.”
I sighed, trying to remember what had happened, but my memories were so jumbled it would take Stephen Hawkings to piece them together into any sort of coherence.
“Scarlett.” My cousin sprang to mind. “Did you find her?”
“Not yet,” Katon answered, seriousness returning. He gestured to Michael. “Since the brute force approach didn’t get us anywhere, I called Rahim and Michael down to help out.”
Mike went over to the alien and knelt down in front of him. “Let’s see what he’s got going on inside there.” He dropped to his ass and crossed his legs, taking slow and deliberate breaths.
I got up, a bit unsteady on my feet, and stumbled over for a better look just as Michael’s eyes shifted. They went from brown to silver in an instant, mercurial in their swirling flow. He rolled his head on his neck and started to mutter. The words were quiet and distorted, nothing making any sense. If I hadn’t seen him do his act before, I would have thought it was just me being out of it. His hands twitched in his lap as though he were signing with Tourette’s.
While I stood there watching, Katon handed me a bundle of clothes. “You mind covering that thing up? You’re freaking me out.” He motioned toward my crotch, drawing my eyes. I realized I was naked and my dick was hanging there more than half-riled. “It was one thing to watch you slaughter werewolves with a full on erection, but this is the part of the date where your pretend you have a little modesty.”
The word was foreign to me, but I slipped the pants on. It was getting a little chilly, anyway. By the time I was dressed, Michael was done. He sucked in a sudden breath and shuddered, his eyes wide and back to being brown. He shook his head and growled as he got to his feet.
“His head is like an abstract painting on crack. Everything is in symbols and sigils and strange shapes that no doubt make up some kind of language, but it’s certainly not one I understand. He doesn’t see things like we do. The only images I can pick out appear to be Asian, if that makes any sense.” He raised his hands in defeat. “All his thoughts are jumbled together, the flickers of bright flowers and Chinese letters mixed in amidst the Giger-like sharpness of the alien sigils and signs. It makes no sense.”
Once again not knowing Mihheer’s language was screwing us. I started to get mad when I remembered the scrap of flesh I had stashed in the God room. “If you had a key that translated some of the symbols, do you think you could work something out?”
Michael shrugged. “It certainly couldn’t hurt. If the symbols are less abstract than their presentation, we might be able to figure something out to help us find Scarlett.”
“If you’ve got something, Frank, let’s get it,” Katon said. His concern for Scarlett was etched clearly across his healing face.
“I’ll be right back,” I told them, waving off Katon’s offer of assistance. “Stick around and make sure the weres don’t come back for their buddy.” I was out the door and down the hall before he could argue.
Still recovering from the double whammy, I wanted a few minutes alone. I felt like I was hung over, and not just from any old party, but from the binge of the century. My head throbbed and my brain sloshed around as if it’d broken free of its mounts. It was hard to walk because my legs were trembling and weak, but I pushed on. This might be the only chance we were gonna get to find Scarlett, so I had to keep going. Despite the psychic trauma, I kept my senses purring away at full throttle. I had vague memories of some of the werewolves managing to get away before I went ballistic, so it was possible I’d run into them, and I really wasn’t feeling up to the rematch.
I moved along as quickly as I could and made it to the God-proof room after what seemed like forever. The first thing I saw was Chatterbox rocking back and forth and looking forlorn.
“Still no contact?” My stomach tightened.
He wobbled his head, the maggots in his eyes sloshing about. If he were capable of tears, he probably would have cried. I felt pretty much the same. Still unable to reach Karra, I was getting worried. It was bad enough not knowing where Scarlett was, but for Karra to be missing was driving me nuts. I wanted to reach out to Longinus to see if she was just giving me the cold shoulder, but we still needed to find Scarlett. She was the priority right now, I told myself.
“Keep trying, CB. I’ll be back to check in.” I collected the skin tablet and book.
Just as I started out of the room, I caught the tiniest flicker of a familiar presence. It was gone before I could I could even process it, but it was enough to give me a general direction of where it came from. Rather than dart out after it, I walked out like I hadn’t noticed anything. Thinking the presence was the person who’d been following me around Hell, I didn’t want to let them know I had spotted them.
I made my way down the corridors, moving in the general direction of where the DRAC guys were holding on to Mihheer, but not directly there. If I needed help, I wanted to be close, but I didn’t want to lead anyone back to the group unless I had to. With all the weres and vamps having a hit out on me, and Gorath aligning himself with them to make my life miserable, I didn’t want to risk dragging Katon into another ambush. Even with Rahim around to even the odds, they didn’t need the grief.
Doing my best to act like nothing was out of the ordinary, I took my time traipsing about the ghetto labyrinth as I looked for a good place to spring an ambush. I kept getting miniscule traces of my tailgater as I moved along. Whoever they were, they were good. They stayed right at the edge of my senses, which kept me from identifying them. The only problem was that it made it clear the person knew me…the old me. Since my power up by Baalth and the tiny boost of Azrael’s essence, my natural range had extended just a bit. The person following me felt they knew the limits of my power and were trying to stay outside of them, but they kept crossing the line. That was why I kept hitting on the familiar essence, but it wasn’t enough for recognition.
A minute later, I ducked behind a building and yanked my new shirt off. I used a fingernail to cut my arm and smeared blood all across the shirt. Certain I was out of sight of my follower, I balled the shirt up and tossed it as hard as I could in the direction I’d been traveling. The sudden burst of movement by my essence would make it look like I was running. It wouldn’t fool anyone long, but tracking a person by their spiritual energies is a bitch, even for those trained in it. My darting back in the direction of the tracker would further confuse the signal. I could only hope it threw them off long enough for me to get a glimpse of them.
It worked.
There was a scuff of boots around the corner followed by a shadow; followed by my fist. The thud of bone on flesh sounded loud in the corridor as the person dropped.
“Damn it, Frank. What the Hell?” I recognized the voice, the sound of it freezing me in place. My shoulders slumped.
Veronica.
There on the floor, dressed in an all-black tracksuit that covered every inch of her skin, there was no mistaking her figure. She was massaging her cheek where I’d punched her, her left eye fluttering. As much as I didn’t want to see her, I sighed and stuck my hand out. “Why are you following me?” She took my hand and I pulled her to her feet.
She rubbed at her face, her feet scuffing at the stone floor. “I, uh…damn, this is going to sound bad.”
“It’s you, Veronica. When doesn’t it?”
She groaned. “I was worried about you.” She looked away.
My brain slipped into overdrive and I felt my crotch begin to warm to the possibilities, but I shook my head to chase away the Technicolor porn film I was envisioning. I certainly didn’t need the hassles that came with Veronica, especially not with Karra around. As much fun as the ex-wife was when it came to sexual adventures, she was an addiction as bad as crack or meth; it only led to trouble and poor hygiene.
“Uh, look, that’s nice and all, but uh-“
