CHAPTER ONE
The only things that ran underground these days were criminals and monsters.
And me, apparently.
I halted outside the entrance to what was once the London Underground station for Edgware Road. The Underground’s nickname was ‘the Tube,’ which seemed fitting, although it was hard to imagine all those trains running below the city. Then again, it was hard to imagine a lot of things about the past. It helped that my mother had been a teacher of history and instilled its importance in me. What we fail to remember, we’re condemned to repeat and all that.
“Found him,” I said to Minka, my colleague on the other end of the phone.
“He isn’t going anywhere. Come back and restock from the armory first.”
“And give him time to move? No way.” I’d spent hours tracking this guy and I wasn’t about to let him go. I wanted to finish this job today.
Minka sighed into the phone. I was personally responsible for the added carbon dioxide in the air thanks to the many, many times I forced a sigh from Minka.
“London, you don’t know what’s down there.”
“Nope.”
Only a fool would venture underground without backup and only a grade-A moron would go underground without a weapon.
Did it count that I had a weapon a scant two hours ago but broke it in an unexpected tussle with a pack of pygmy hydras? Technically the mace belonged to the Knights of Boudica and wasn’t a favorite of mine. I dispatched the heads with the mace, burned the stumps, and moved on to find my target.
A raven swooped down from the sky, a fresh inkblot spreading across a gray page. The bird perched on top of the entrance and cocked his head.
I lowered the phone. “Don’t look at me like that, Barnaby. I’m a big girl and I make my own decisions.”
The raven didn’t have to respond with “yes, bad ones.” I could see the answer in his beady, judgmental eyes.
“Caw, ca-caw.”
“Whatever. You stay here. It’s too dangerous down there for birds.” I raised the phone to my mouth. “I’m going down. See you in an hour.”
The voice on the other end of the line shrieked in protest and I held the phone away from my ear.
“What was that? I can’t hear you. Too busy getting eaten by whatever monster awaits me. Good-bye, cruel world!”
I secured the phone in its holster on my utility belt and took a quick drink of water from my flask before I sallied forth. If you couldn’t sally forth, could you even call yourself a knight?
I entered beneath the sign marked Edgware Road Station. When the city was still known as London, Edgware Road was a sprawling underground station where city commuters converged to start and end their workday. When humans were still in charge. The arrival of the Eternal Night changed all that.
I slid down the handrail of a defunct escalator and gave my eyes a chance to adjust to the absence of light. Busy city streets had the benefit of electric lights to create the illusion of daytime. Down here was a black ocean and I was already drowning. Good thing I knew how to swim.
My phone vibrated once and fell silent. Minka was probably trying to call me again, to reiterate her warnings and threaten me with bodily harm should I survive. The further I sank, the less likely technology was to work. Another downside of traveling underground.
Still, a job was a job and I needed to eat, preferably today.
A rat the size of a feral hog thundered past me, forcing my back against the wall. The species flourished during the Eternal Night and now they ran rampant above and below ground, carrying disease and scaring the daylights out of us.
Technically daylight was already long gone thanks to the simultaneous eruption of ten of the world’s supervolcanoes, an event now referred to as the Great Eruption. The Americas and Australasia were the areas hardest hit because of the locations of the active calderas. Together they spat enough ash into the atmosphere to block the sun. The never-ending eclipse wasn’t the only consequence. Magma and monsters spilled forth from the bowels of the earth where they’d been lurking for centuries, biding their time until they could return. And return they did—with a vengeance.
The crackle of my phone cut through the silence. I reached one hand to the side and pressed the off button. No need to alert anyone to my arrival. The mark himself wasn’t particularly dangerous—it was not knowing what else I might encounter along the way that ratcheted up the threat level. There was a reason this job was handed to me and not one of the other knights. To be fair, Kami could’ve handled it too, but she was nursing a wound from her meeting yesterday with two dwarf factions to negotiate a new boundary between their neighborhoods. Needless to say, it didn’t go well. Kami and both parties limped away with injuries. They should’ve sent Briar instead. Briar radiated warmth whereas Kami radiated do-it-my-way-or-I’ll-kill-you-and-feed-you-to-my-cat. Minka was in charge of the schedule, though, and she was reluctant to accept input. The Knights of Boudica were a democracy steeped in bureaucracy and Minka owned the largest roll of red tape.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a flurry of movement. It was small and airborne, and could’ve been something as insignificant as a moth.
Please don’t be a butterfly.
It amazed me that butterflies were once considered pretty and harmless creatures, yet bats were associated with vampires. A glimpse at the right history books revealed that some cultures knew better—to them butterflies represented a departed soul, which was close enough to the truth. In Britannia City, if you saw a swarm of butterflies coming toward you, there was no use running. You were already dead.
Slowly I craned my neck for a better glimpse of my underground companion. A fly landed on the wall of the tunnel and my shoulders relaxed slightly.
I followed the curve of the tunnel and noticed an offshoot. Hmm. Which way next?
A low growl reverberated from the offshoot. The hair on the back of my neck stood at attention.
Offshoot it is.
“Great. More company,” I sang out, moving toward the sound. “Come out and join the party. The more the merrier.”
Saliva pooled on the tunnel floor with a satisfying hiss. Two red eyes glowed in the darkness.
Make that four.
Shit. Six.
Three large jaws with gleaming fangs quickly followed. A three-headed dog like Cerberus, except this one was protecting a lowlife criminal instead of the god of the underworld. If you ask me, she got the short end of the stick. Then again, she was a dog, so maybe she didn’t care which end it was as long as it was a stick.
The dog was about three feet high and as wide as she was tall thanks to the multiple heads. Her black hair was short and coarse and sharp claws extended from her large paws. Not your friendly neighborhood Rover.
I maintained eye contact with the beast. Technically I chose the middle head and focused on that particular pair of eyes.
“Hey, cutie. What’s your name?”
“The name’s Mongrel and it’s about to feast on your flesh for dinner,” a gravelly voice said.
“Mongrel? That’s a terrible name.”
“For a terrible monster,” the voice replied.
The three-headed dog punctuated the remark with a round of ferocious barks.
“I take it you’re Fergal.”
“What’s it to you?”
“Come out where I can see you.” I didn’t dare take another step forward and irk the dog. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt her. It wasn’t her fault she’d been misled into protecting a thief and a liar. Guys like Fergal often withheld food and water as part of the creature’s ‘training.’
“You’re not too bright coming down here alone,” Fergal said.
“You’re not too bright living down here alone.”
I took the opportunity to move closer for a better view of my mark. He was a bulky man in a plain white T-shirt and shredded jeans that hung low on his waist, emphasizing his swollen gut. His thick, knotted hair looked like it hadn’t been combed in decades.
“Except I’m not alone. As you can see, I’ve got Mongrel.”
“I’m not alone either. I have a team of knights with me.” The other end of the phone counted, right?
Fergal eyed me curiously. “They let women be knights now? What’s the world coming to?”
Because the world was in such a perfect state otherwise.
“Nobody let me. I don’t need permission.”
Okay, that wasn’t strictly true. I had to pass a series of stringent tests to become a knight, but our most notable feature was that we were an all-female organization.
“I obviously hit a sore point.”
“And I’m about to hit one of yours if you don’t cooperate. You have something that belongs to my client and I’m here to reclaim it.”
Fergal balled his hands into fists. “I won it fair and square.”
“You didn’t win anything. You drugged an entire table of players and stole it.”
According to my client, Fergal served them all from the same pitcher of ale. My client thought it tasted bitter but before he could comment, he blacked out. When he lifted his head off the table an hour later, Fergal was gone and so was my client’s jar of honey.
Fergal spat on the floor of the tunnel. “Prove it.”
“I don’t have to.”
Fergal smacked the dog’s backside. “Mongrel, take care of this girl.”
Three heads growled again. So far Mongrel was all bark and no bite, which suited me fine.
“Did you even bring a weapon? How stupid can you be?”
If I were Fergal, I’d be more concerned by a knight who felt confident enough to venture down here without one.
I reached out with my mind and tried to make contact with the dog.
There you are, little lady.
Interesting. I expected three minds, but I only detected one. It seemed I was right to focus on the middle head. That was the control center. I touched the dog’s mind and offered reassuring thoughts.
Little pig, little pig, let me come in.
The dog resisted.
I pushed a bit harder, prompting a snarl from all three heads.
“What are you doing, you lazy piece of shit? Attack!”
Fergal’s demand had the opposite effect. The dog’s mind squeaked opened and let me slither in.
Gotcha.
For her size, she wasn’t too hard to win over. Probably because Fergal mistreated her. Those creatures were always easier to convert. Any port in a storm, bless her.
I transmitted my request.
“Mongrel, I said attack!” Fergal had no idea what was happening. I almost felt sorry for him.
Almost.
The left head turned first and growled at Fergal.
“Not me, you idiot,” Fergal shouted.
Yes, call the multi-headed, fanged beast an idiot. That will help you.
The creature swung around and snapped three sets of jaws at Fergal.
“What did you do?” Fergal demanded.
“Mongrel, stay.” The dog stilled and I held out my hand. “I’ll take that jar of honey now.”
Fergal’s eyes bulged. “Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t give it to you. I don’t have it.” He stumbled over his words, finally starting to comprehend the situation.
I clucked my tongue. “Fergal, aren’t you in enough trouble already? Let’s not drag this out.”
“I sold it.”
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Why, oh why did they insist on keeping up the charade when the jig was very clearly up?
I leaned down to address the creature. “Mongrel, when’s the last time you ate?”
Three mouths began to salivate at the same time. Acidic slobber dripped from the jowls, forcing Fergal to take another step backward.
“Hold on,” he said. “I’ll get it.”
I couldn’t see past Fergal to know what he was getting, but every fiber of my being told me it wasn’t what I came for.
Damn it, Fergal. I was trying to do this the easy way.
Metal flashed across the black backdrop.
Oh, well. I gave it my best shot. I would’ve preferred to handle this without help, but as I didn’t have a weapon, I commandeered one.
“Mongrel, charge,” I said.
The beast toppled Fergal. The sword flew to the right and clattered on the hard surface.
“Stay. No killing.”
Mongrel kept her former owner pinned to the floor while I skirted them both. Nudging the sword out of his reach with my boot, I sauntered deeper into Fergal’s lair. A few pots and pans. A canteen. A portable kerosene stove. A bedroll.
“Not much of a home,” I said. Not that I was one to talk. My flat’s most significant feature was indoor plumbing. Then again, we weren’t vampires nor did we work for them. We didn’t have the luxury of choice.
It was only when I shifted the bedroll that I found it. Jackpot. As the most valuable item in this mess, he’d wisely kept it hidden.
With the jar of honey in hand, I returned to the spot where Fergal was whimpering on the floor and rolling his head left to right to avoid the acidic spray of the beast’s slobber.
“My client would like me to pass along a message. If you ever show your face at poker night again, you’ll be leaving without your legs.”
Fergal glowered at the creature on top of him. “I’ll kill you for this, you worthless mutt.”
I cut a sideways glance at the dog. Apparently I’d be leaving with more than a jar of golden honey. When possible, I released a creature I’d won over to my side. I had no interest in becoming the Snow White of Britannia City. I couldn’t ignore Fergal’s threat though. It wasn’t fair to the dog.
I patted the creature’s right head. “Come on, cutie. I’ll get you a nice milk bone when we get out of here.”
The beast stayed put.
“Sorry. Three milk bones.”
The beast stepped off Fergal and trotted along beside me.
“Don’t even think about grabbing your sword,” I called without bothering to turn around.
I made my way to the exit with my new companion. “I have to ask—how do you maintain your balance with those heads?”
Three heads shifted to look at me. Impressive physiology happening there.
“I can’t call you Mongrel,” I said. “It’s a terrible word to call anyone.”
On the other hand, I didn’t have a right to name her and I couldn’t keep her. I felt torn. My flat wasn’t big enough to accommodate a creature of her size, but if I released her now, she’d likely return to the tunnel if only because she was accustomed to it. If that happened, Fergal would make good on his threat. I couldn’t risk it.
“Come on. I’ll find you a temporary place to stay.” I strode up the frozen escalator steps that led to the surface. “I bet you’ve never been to the Circus.”
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