Marcus Pelegrimas - Teeth of Beasts

“And Henry is the Full Blood that was tainted by the Nymar?” Ned asked.

“That’s right,” Paige replied. “We haven’t heard from him since Wisconsin.”

“You mean the Janesville Massacre?” the old man sneered.

“That’s just what some of the tabloids were calling it,” Cole said. “Some news channels did a bunch of stories about it for a while, but the case has been closed. The cops saw enough Nymar waving their guns around for the whole thing to be written off as some sort of gang fight or drug deal gone wrong.”

“And I haven’t heard about it for months,” Rico said. “That’s because people like to sweep their garbage where they can’t see it and go about their day like there ain’t nothin’ wrong. Animals ain’t like that. They know when something’s wrong with the natural order, and right now there’s a big vacancy at the top of the food chain. When that happens, all the residents of the lower rungs climb up to fill it. Ain’t that right, Bloodhound?”

Now fully absorbed in her chips, Paige only nodded.

“All the Mongrels are sniffing around across the country, poking their heads out to make sure there’s not a Full Blood around to bite it off,” Rico continued as he ticked his points off on his fingers. “I’ve heard from a bunch of places that Nymar are getting braver too. Even little rodents that are only spotted every now and then when they pick off a dog or slaughter some cattle are overstepping their bounds.”

“I was nearly killed by a Chupacabra,” Cole offered.

Rico pointed at him and said, “I wouldn’t exactly brag about that, but it proves my point.” Then he shifted his focus back to Ned. “One Full Blood can stake out a territory that may cover a third of this country. They’re powerful enough to enforce their claim and fast enough to patrol it. Take even one out of the mix and it throws things off, just like when too many wolves are killed in a patch of forest. All the other animals spread out and make themselves comfortable. In our case, you get Mongrels challenging us in the open. I know you’ve been content to sit back and keep the peace ever since we took St. Louis for ourselves, but we can’t do that anymore. If anything comes sniffing around looking for a new territory to claim, we gotta kick its teeth in.”

“Law of the jungle,” Cole said as he carefully selected the burnt chips from the basket.

“Damn right,” Rico said while leaning back into his seat. “Law of the jungle.”

Ned pulled in a deep breath and let it seep out through his nostrils. He drank some beer, ate some chips, and then looked over at Paige.

“And before you come down too hard on us for stirring up those Mongrels,” she said, “you should know that their problem wasn’t with us. It’s with you.”

“What?”

“Oh yeah!” Cole said. “They told us…what was it?”

Paige seemed only too happy to reply. “The Mongrels told us to tell the old man that they know what he’s doing and that your tricks will only get more humans killed.”

“Tricks?” Ned snapped. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Not me,” Paige said. “Them. That’s the message the Mongrels gave us.”

“And was the leader a tall woman who looked like a panther?”

“I thought she was more of a leopard,” Cole replied, “but yeah. She had some guy with her who changed into something that had been eating out of garbage cans most of its life.”

“The woman’s name is Malia,” Ned said. “And the mangy one is Allen. Those two have stayed mostly out of sight and haven’t been a problem.”

“Until now,” Rico said. “When I showed up, things were about to get pretty damn problematic.”

“Because you provoked them!”

“What could they be talking about?” Paige asked in a softer tone. “Could it have anything to do with something called Pestilence?”

She laid out the details of Peter Walsh’s visit to Rasa Hill and didn’t pause until the waitress came by to refill their drinks. By the time she relayed everything Daniels had said, the waitress was returning with the rest of their food. Not surprisingly, the most disgusting of the details hadn’t put a dent into anyone’s appetite.

When the story was over, Ned asked, “And who studied that dead body? The Nymar you work with?”

“That’s right. Daniels does plenty of work for me, so don’t give me any grief for bringing him along.”

“You brought him along?” Rico asked. Glancing nervously at the old man, he lifted his mug to Paige and said, “Ballsy.”

Surprisingly enough, Ned merely shrugged and cut into his open face sandwich. “I don’t object to putting a few of them to work for us. Giving them free rein over an entire city is something else. What did he tell you about this Pestilence?”

“Daniels just said it wasn’t any sort of drug that he knew about,” she replied. “At least, nothing he could pick up on with his first batch of tests, but he’ll keep studying it while he’s here.”

“That still leaves a wide range of toxins from flower petals all the way up to animal venoms.”

“Right,” Paige said. “That’s why he’s still running his tests.”

“And where will we able to find him?” Ned asked.

“I was hoping he could stay with us.”

“No wait,” Rico said as he tapped his mug against Paige’s. “ That was ballsy.”

Again, despite his previous grumpiness, Ned just shrugged and took another bite of his dinner. “If you trust this Nymar, then he can stay with us. At least that way we can keep an eye him. Where is he now?”

“Driving around the city to see if he can find some more Nymar.”

Rico laughed into his beer. “Good luck with that.”

“The Nymar who came to Chicago was from here,” Cole pointed out. “He’s the one who called Pestilence by name and said it was in the nymphs’ blood. Also,” he added as he put the piece of paper he’d taken from Peter Walsh’s body on the table. “He was carrying a free drink voucher from a place called Bunn’s Lounge in Sauget.”

“I know the place. It’s right across the river in Illinois,” Rico said. “Prophet was there last month.”

Ned tapped the ticket and then pushed it toward Cole. “Right. His purple A-frame theory. I think that man is just trying to frequent strip clubs and call it research so we’ll pay him for it. You think this is something we should really check out?”

Cole took another drink of Newcastle and then realized Ned had aimed that question at him. “Oh, well yeah. Peter came a long way to find us and tell us about Pestilence, so it’s probably important. If there’s any more Nymar in the area, we figured Daniels would be able to find them to see what they know.”

“How is he contacting them?” Rico asked as he leaned across the table. “Knowing how the bloodsuckers find each other could be a big help.”

Rather than let Cole field the question, Paige stepped in. “Daniels wouldn’t say and we wouldn’t press him on it. He does a lot for us, but he’s not about to hand over all of his kind like that.”

“Helping Skinners ain’t exactly healthy for Nymar,” Rico pointed out.

“Maybe it’s splitting hairs, but Daniels won’t go that far. He works with me because he knows I only go after the Nymar that overstep their bounds.”

“Here we go again,” Ned grumbled.

“And,” Paige continued as she stared the old man down, “he comes through when we need him, so if he says he can save us some time by helping us get in touch with local Nymar, then I’ll let him.”

Ned patted her rigid right arm and said, “Yes, I can see your Nymar chemist truly does take good care of you.”

“This wasn’t Daniels’s fault. He mixed up the ink, but I’m the one who used it before he said it was ready. Even so, it worked damn well. Have you ever had a Full Blood chew on your arm before?”