He shrugs and agrees in case it will get him somewhere. “I guess.”
I caught his gaze and held it. “There’s a certain violence to sex too. Penetration. Screaming. You know.”
He licks his lips, realizing that there’s a whole lot he’s been missing. “Jesus, at least let me have your phone number. I’ll work on it and get back to you.”
That earns him a laugh. “Attaboy. But you should know I have a boyfriend. He’s a Druid too. He got shot in the head once, but he’s fine now and can recite the complete works of William Shakespeare from memory. He kills gods on Saturdays.”
“Holy shit. For reals?”
“Yep.” I give him the same tiny shrug and smirk he gave me. “That’s about as far as you’re gonna get with me, unfortunately. Thanks for the juice, Dirk.”
“Yeah, no problem.” He shakes his head before he gets to his feet and mutters, “Damn.”
Leif arrives after sundown, in a sharp tailored suit, and I’m still sitting on the ground, weary but feeling as if I can move again.
“Good evening, Granuaile. I trust all went well?”
“A couple of your perfectly expendable mercenaries died, but the nest is toast.”
“Excellent.” He’s carrying a pad and pulls it out, showing me a checklist of names. Kacper Glowa is at the top. “Shall we see who we have?”
“Let’s start with this guy,” I say, pulling out my cell phone to show him the photo I took. “I gave him to the sun and he shot me.”
“Hmm. That is not Kacper, unfortunately. That’s Arkadiusz Koziol. Six hundred years old, very powerful, and on my list.” He taps his screen and a check mark appears next to the dead vampire’s name. “But not someone who would ever challenge me on his own. Let’s see who’s inside.”
He offers me a hand and I take it, wincing as I get to my feet for the first time since being shot. It’s tender in there, but my legs work just fine.
The thralls are lined up against the wall. They’ve been given first aid by the mercs, but they could use more help. Leif isn’t going to give them any. He descends upon them and charms each in turn, forcing him to reveal who else was in the nest and whatever they know about passwords or hidden intel or even the location of other nests. He checks off names, but I can hear just as well as he can: Kacper Glowa wasn’t there, though most of his thralls were.
“I will confirm the kills and see if there is anyone they missed or simply did not know about,” Leif says, “but it appears Kacper sent his thralls here to help defend the nest, without occupying it himself.”
“He knew we could divine his thralls but not him.”
“I suspected he would prove to be a challenge. But we shall not have to face him tonight anyway. You should go home and get some rest. We eliminated twelve vampires here in accordance with the treaty. That is fine progress and should send a clear message that the treaty will be enforced. I may be able to find out the locations of other nests once I search their files. I will contact you when I know more.”
I have no will to argue. I want a shower and some sack time more than anything else. I still have another day off from the pub, and I might as well use it to recuperate.
Halfway through my hike up to the bound tree above Krakow, I snort to myself. I guess I now know what my grand adventure will be as a bartender at Browar Szóstej Dzielnicy: I’ll be a vampire hunter. And a student of Szymborska.
Honestly, that suits me perfectly: I do not see a path I can walk on the earth that is not strewn with beauty and horror in equal measure. My road ahead is poetry and blood, and after today, I know I’m prepared to walk it.
This story, narrated from Owen’s point of view, takes place after the events of Staked and Oberon’s Meaty Mysteries: The Purloined Poodle.
Back in me own time—I’m fecking allowed to start like that because me own time was two thousand years ago—elementals never asked Druids for help with the environment. Humans weren’t sophisticated or numerous enough then to cock up the planet on an industrial scale. So when a call shudders up through me bones and it’s the elemental Colorado, asking me directly for help on behalf of another elemental, ye could knock me over with a spider whisper—and I’m talkin’ about one o’ those giant, silent, brooding bastards that lurk in your house high up on the walls and wait for ye to see them and ruin your pants.
The elemental wants me to save a species on the path to extinction, and that’s even stranger. Animals go extinct all the time and Druids never hear so much as a sad trombone noise. But some species are key to the healthy functioning of their ecosystems, and sometimes, in small places, Druids can help out. I hear Granuaile helped clean out an invasive species of crawfish from an Arizona river while she was still an apprentice, saving some native trout that were getting all their eggs eaten. That kind of thing makes sense: The invasive species is still vital in its own space, and balance is restored where they were causing trouble. This job sounds different, though.
The request for help comes from an elemental I’ve never even heard of: Tasmania.
//Devils dying from disease / Mutated cancer / Contagious / Must cure//
Images flood me head of what a Tasmanian devil looks like: the size of a small dog with a face akin to something in the rat family, black fur with a white stripe crossing at the collarbone and again on its back near the tail, which did have hair on it like a dog instead of naked like a rat. And Tasmania emphasizes that the devils are important to keeping its ecosystem balanced—Greta tells me the popular term for that nowadays is keystone species.
I get the idea that it’s not going to be a nice afternoon’s work: It’s going to take a while, because I’ll have to cure every devil individually until the disease is wiped out. I can’t leave me apprentices for so long—but then it makes me wonder if I can bring them along.
//Query: Can apprentices help?//
//Yes / Harmony//
//Harmony// I says, and then I have to hunt down Greta. We can’t shift there: For some reason there are no bound trees on the island, and I’m not confident that I know the kids well enough anyway, so we’ll have to fly. That’s going to take money. And of course it would be best to have the parents along, so that’s more money. But at least the full moon is recently past and the werewolves can travel safely.