The Pardoner's Tale Page 9

  "Because you coerced me!"

  Alex handed me the pellet. "Whatever you say, boss. You hungry? I'm starving."

  Chapter Five

  One month later...

  The trouble with a job like ours ñ mine ñ is that you don't often get praised for it. You can't exactly call City Hall and say, "Guess what! My friend and I got rid of a demon that was bothering the locals. Can we get some sort of a cash reward for that?" What you'd get is a one-way ride to a state-run mental health facility.

  It was different when Albert was alive, of course. He had money. He had a successful business dealing antiques to collectors, selling the less-rare things in a shop, and occasionally had people with money hire him to take care of a possession. Albert lived well, paid me well, and was well-off enough that he could do jobs for free. I think he would have done favors for people in need no matter what, because he did what he did because he believed in it.

  It was a job I had come to believe in, as well. Though I had to admit that the money in the bank wouldn't hold out forever, and living in Buck's basement wasn't going to work forever, either. For one thing, Alex and I had quickly gotten tired of taking turns sleeping on the floor, and I wasn't too keen on sharing the pull-out bed with Alex. He had a tendency to get a little... personal in his sleep, if you know what I mean.

  We were both, however, certain that what we were looking for was in Baltimore. Or at least we hadn't reached the conclusion that it wasn't. So we found a cheap apartment over a strip club. Three hundred dollars a month. Furniture from thrift shops (and there were plenty in the area), mattresses from a discount warehouse, and a television from Wal-Mart.

  I was half-heartedly looking into what it would take for me to set up shop as a PI in Maryland. Alex was whole-heartedly wooing several if not all of the strippers in the club downstairs. Three times already I'd spent the night at the Drunken Sailor while Alex "entertained."

  We were both taking our drinking quite seriously. Neither of us was taking the search for the lock for Alex's key seriously at all.

  Until the morning the police came to our door.

  Alex doesn't need to avoid sunlight, but he does tend to sleep very deep during the day. This may or may not have something to do with the fact that we often stayed up drinking until dawn.

  I'd done my fair share of drinking the night before, so neither of us was quick to respond to the buzzing of the intercom. Eventually I poked my head out of the window and looked down at our street-level door.

  "Company," I said.

  Alex peered out from under a pile of blankets and mumbled "Xyj'Ru?"

  "Do you really think he'd bother with ringing the bell? It's a cop. Get dressed." I hit the speaker. "Can I help you?"

  "I'm Officer Doderberg. I'm looking for a mister Pardoner or a mister Finch, regarding Charles Whitmore."

  "Buck," Alex said as he pulled a tee-shirt over his head. "Wonder what he's done?"

  "I'll buzz you in." I said into the intercom. "Come straight up the stairs to the third floor."

  Officer Doderberg appeared to be about seventeen years old until you got a look at his eyes. Being a cop adds years in a hurry. Especially when you get the sort of job that Doderberg had.

  We all sat. Officer Doderberg folded his hands in his lap and looked from me to Alex and back again. "How close were you to Mr. Whitmore?"

  "Friendly," I said. "He helped us out when we first got here."

  "Have you seen him recently?"

  "No," Alex said.

  "About a week ago," I said. "What's happened?"

  "Where were you last night?"

  There was a subtle change in Alex's scent. A little edge of fear. The cop looked curiously at Alex, almost as if he picked it up, too.

  "We were here. Both of us. We were, ah," I glanced around. There were still empty bottles next to the television. "Pretty drunk," I admitted.

  "You didn't go out at all?"

  "Alex went to the liquor store about six p.m., but that's it."

  "And no one else can vouch for you?"

  "Will you get to the point?" Alex blurted. The cop and I both looked curiously at him this time.

  "The Drunken Sailor was robbed last night. Charles Whitmore was murdered in the process."

  I excused myself and went to the bathroom. I vomited twice, thought about the last time the cops showed up to ask me about a murder, and threw up once more for good measure. When I went back to the living room I overheard Alex telling the cop about Albert and Linda. I turned around and went back into the bathroom, but stayed tuned to their conversation.

  Officer Doderberg thanked him, handed him a card, and left. Once I heard the street-level door close, I walked over to the sofa and sat.

  "You're an asshole."

  "What did I do?"

  "You told the cop about Albert?"

  "Yeah, so? It's not like you killed him."

  "Two people I was close to are murdered. The next place I settle, someone dies. Don't forget that my father was murdered, too. That's four people murdered, and me the common point. What's that going to sound like to the police?"

  He stared blankly for several long seconds. "Oh," he said. "I see your point. Though to be fair, you did kill your father."

  "Alexander."

  He raised his hands and leaned away from me. "Calm down, man. I'm sure they're not going to think you were in any way responsible. They said Buck was killed during a robbery. Nothing at all like what happened to Albert and Linda."

  The next day, when the story hit the news, we realized how wrong we'd been.

  I spent an hour staring at the paper, then went online and checked some of the less reputable sites. Sure enough, the crime scene photos had leaked. There was Buck, on the floor, behind the counter, with his internal organs oozing out of various holes.

  The newspaper said the cause of death was blunt force trauma. The officer interviewed said it looked like he'd suffered several sledgehammer blows to the chest and stomach, followed by multiple stab wounds.

  The paper said, "We believe Mr. Whitmore may have interrupted a robbery in progress. As a result, the perpetrator or perpetrators brutally attacked and killed him."

  "Our friend Xyj'Ru," Alex said as he read over my shoulder. He wasn't asking. We both knew it had been. It'd been a demon with sledgehammer-like fists and claws like knives. I was glad that we weren't living in Buck's basement anymore. Not that that would have saved Buck, but it extended our life expectancy by a little bit. A few days. Maybe a week.

  "He's tracked us here, Alex. He killed Buck. He knows we're here and he knows we're close and..."

  "You don't think the cop..."

  "No. No way. We'd be dead already."

  "Unless he's lulling us into a false sense of security," Alex said matter-of-factly. "Do we take off again?"

  I shook my head. "What's the point? He'll keep following and keep killing people and eventually he'll get bored with the chase and we'll be dead. We might as well stand our ground and take our chances."

  "If we're going to die, I just want to say that I'm glad I met you," Alex said.

  "I wish I'd never met you," I replied.

  ***

  Thirty-seven hours.

  At thirty-seven hours and five minutes, while we were aimlessly wandering the streets of Fell's Point, a very large, very scary looking man approached us and backed us into an alley, where his bigger, scarier friend was waiting.

  The arms alone on these guys were intimidating. They looked almost too long for their bodies, giving the men an apelike appearance. The protruding foreheads and the dead, glassy eyes didn't make them look any more human.

  The taller of the two glared at me. He drew himself up to his full height and swiveled his neck, warming up before the dance.

  "His neck is as big as your bicep," Alex muttered as he readied himself for a fight.

  "His bicep is bigger than your waist," I exaggerated and felt around inside me for the wolf. I panted softly, tasting the air. "An
d they're mortal. Human."

  "Xyj'Ru underestimated us." Alex grinned and I caught the change in his smile and his eyes. "At least I hope he did. Think we can take them?"

  "We're probably more flexible than they are, what with all the muscles we're lacking. Probably faster, too. Unless Xyj has souped them up demonically."

  "Can't tell. You going to... you know?"

  "Yeah. Going to be awkward, though. I don't really want to turn my back so I can get undressed." I shifted and wiggled while trying to get my shoes off.

  "NickyIreallydon'tthinkyouhavetimeto..." he shouted as the mountains came toward us.

  I had one shoe off. I picked it up and threw it at the closer of the two thugs. It smacked his forehead and bounced off to hit the wall. Werewolf, zero. Caveman, one.

  I managed to get my other shoe off just as the taller guy lunged at me. Now I ask you... how is this fair? Alex has a good three inches on me at least, and the shorter one takes him on? I threw my other shoe. This one landed right in the middle of the ape man's face. It only made him angrier.

  Alex was fully vamped out. I caught a blur of movement out of the corner of my eye and knew it was him, moving with vampiric speed. My opponent (I dubbed him "Frick") took a swing but ended up punching the wall. His fist tore a large chunk out of the bricks and he scattered clay and mortar dust when he pulled his hand back again. I dodged quickly; I knew he wouldn't miss a second time.

  I kept looking around for anything that could be a weapon. I threw handfuls of dirt in Frick's face, hoping to blind him at least long enough for me to shift. Hopping around barefoot and flinging silt wasn't going to keep me alive for very long. I needed the wolf.

  A bottle! I thanked whatever higher power might be out there (just in case there was one out there) and slashed at the thug's face. I was hoping to take out an eye. I managed to give him a nasty gash across his forehead and cheek instead. Still, I was taking what I could get and I used the few seconds it bought me to start calling up the wolf.

  I saw Alex. He was on his guy's back, legs wrapped around Frack's neck, arms flailing in an attempt to punch him in the face. Frack was too strong; he grabbed Alex's legs and threw him against the wall. Alex hit upside-down and landed on his neck on the pavement.

  Thinking he was down for the count, Frick and Frack both dove for me. I threw myself on the ground and scrambled between the feet of one of the boys. I was crawling through something foul-smelling and sticky, but the fact that they were having trouble crouching on their over-muscled legs made up for it.

  I could have made a break for it. I could have dashed for the end of the alley, took off down the street, gone far, far away from this place. Alex was the one they really wanted. Alex was the one with the key. Alex was the one who betrayed Xyj'Ru.

  Alex was also my best friend. There was no way I was leaving him at their mercy. So there, at the mouth of the alley, barely hidden by a shadow, I shifted. My two new playmates got to witness the bone splitting, muscle tearing, clothes ripping, painful, horrible shift.

  They had underestimated us. I guess Xyj didn't know I wasn't under contract to the moon, so he hadn't warned his henchmen. Idiot, I thought. How have you lived this long? Oh, right. By getting other people to do your dirrrrty worrrrr. The thoughts became a snarl and humanity was displaced.

  I have several vague (furry?) memories of the next series of events. I remember the taste of blood and the sound of tearing flesh. I remember the taste of Alex's skin and hands that felt like Alex's gripping the fur at my neck. I remember the sound of Alex feeding before the corpses got too cold and the smell of blood on his breath. And mine.

  I remember herding him home by bumping my head against his thigh and pulling his pant leg to steer him and my fucking tail wagging a mile a minute the whole time.

  Eight or ten hours or days later I woke up in Alex's bed, human again. The sheets were caked with blood and garbage. The whole room smelled like rotting things. We smelled like rotting things. Alex was pressed against my back, one arm draped over my side. The other was bent beneath his head. His elbow was jabbing me in the back of the neck. I squirmed away and turned over to look at him.

  He was a mass of cuts and bruises. Blood matted his hair and streaked his face, neck, chest, and hands. I tried to see myself but lowering my head sent electric jolts of pain up my spine. Inventory could wait. How we'd made it home in this condition was anyone's guess.

  "No one saw us," Alex mumbled.

  "Huh?"

  "You just said 'how'd we get home'. You were a wolf so you looked like a big dog. Anyone who looked at me didn't really see me. It's a vampire thing." He eased himself onto his back, wincing with pain. "I've got some broken ribs, I think."

  "I'm surprised your neck's not broken."

  "Me, too." He wiggled a little, trying to find a less painful position. "Fuck, do I need a shower. We both do."

  "I'll go first." I slid out of bed and waited a few seconds for the room to stop spinning. "When you're in there I'm going to burn our clothes, and probably these sheets. Maybe even your mattress."

  Alex yawned and made another attempt to get comfortable. "I'll just sleep in your bed, then."

  ***

  His hand folded around mine. His leg pressed against mine. My palms started to sweat, and he laughed.

  "Not letting go," he said softly.

  "Not trying to make you."

  "Thought you were trying to sweat me out."

  "Nah."

  Alex moved to kneel over me, one leg between mine. I leaned back and propped myself up on my elbows. He grinned, licked his lips, and bared his fangs.

  "You'll like this," he said. "I promise."

  He nuzzled my stomach through my shirt. Every muscle in my body contracted and he laughed again. "I can't believe you're scared." He carefully rolled the hem of my shirt up, exposing my stomach.

  "I'm afraid of the foreplay, not the event."

  His mouth was hovering over my belly. I could feel his breath when he spoke. "We can skip it. Most people like it, though. It sets things up so it doesn't hurt so much."

  "I'm not most people. Let's just skip to the main course, okay?"

  He shrugged, licked a small patch of skin, and then bit. His fangs broke through and I felt the rush of blood and endorphins. My arms gave out and I collapsed flat.

  Five minutes. That was all. Five minutes, and it was just a surface wound. It was already an ugly purple, but it wasn't bleeding. It didn't even really hurt. Basically, it was a hickey.

  Alex swayed and sighed. "That's really good shit." He flopped next to me and put his head on my shoulder. "Was it good for you too, darling?"

  "I thought it was going to energize you, not get you drunk!"

  "It's not my fault your blood is eighty proof. I'm kidding! It will. I promise it will. Once the initial rush wears off. It's got to work itself into my system, you know? I can feel it working already. My ribs don't hurt as much."

  He rolled onto his back and gave a catlike stretch, closed his eyes, and yawned. "Hey, Nick? What's ironwood?"

  "It's a kind of tree. They make golf clubs out of it. Why?"

  "That's what the key is made out of."

  "How'd you find that out?"

  Alex shrugged one shoulder ñ awkward, since he was still on his back. "The other day, when I was out, I showed it to someone who said it looked like ironwood."

  "And you just thought to tell me now?"

  "I forgot what it was called!"

  "Ironwood is not a difficult thing to remember."

  "It's not difficult to forget either." Alex lounged on the floor, staring up at the ceiling.

  "No, I guess it's forgettable when your main priority is orgasm."

  "Hey!"

  "Oh, tell me you weren't trying to score when you found out. All the information in your head got shot out with your come."

  "At least I can come. When's the last time you got laid? When's the last time you even jerked off?"

  I mumbled, "It
's none of your business," and kept staring at the computer.

  "You don't, do you? You're so full of self-loathing that you can't even manage a good wank! No wonder you're so uptight." Alex stood. Even without turning around I knew he was giving me a calculating stare. He was sizing me up. "Nicky... are you a virgin?"

  "It's none of your fucking business."