Брайан Макклеллан - Uncanny Collateral

“You’re mocking me?”

“Only a little. I’m genuinely pleased that Kappie is dead. But this thing between you and me has nothing to do with Kappie.”

The ghoul took a step back, tensing up, and I realized it was seconds away from shifting into some speedy animal and taking off like it had last night. “There’s nothing between you and me,” it said.

I gestured at the gym. “Why all this?” I asked.

The sudden question seemed to take the ghoul off guard. It peered at me curiously. “All what?”

“Taking over Kappie’s business, stealing souls – this .”

The shapeshifter seemed to consider the question, and I wondered if anyone had ever inquired after its motives before. “This is the twenty-first century,” the ghoul finally said. “There’s OtherOps, the Rules, cameras everywhere, high human population density. There aren’t many places for someone like me to hide anymore. This was an experiment to see if I could join the rat race, to be something more than just an undead.”

The answer surprised me. There was even a tinge of emotion in the ghoul’s voice. “That almost sounds romantic when you put it that way – trying to rise above your circumstances.”

“That’s exactly what it is,” the ghoul sniffed. “The Greater Other don’t like the undead. They might show some deference to a few of the Vampire Lords, but the rest of us are just gutter trash. They don’t want us to get involved in contracts or have a say in the Rules. I’m trying to change that.”

“And you thought stealing from Death was a good way to go about it?”

The ghoul shrugged, but I could tell from the shifting of its feet that it might have gotten an inkling that this had been a mistake. “I don’t know what the big deal is. There’s nothing to be afraid of. He’s just a dog without a bite.”

I thought of something that Maggie had said to me when I’d first met Ferryman in Ada’s office. “I’ve been wondering the same thing myself,” I answered. “Why is everyone scared of Death? Seems like a reasonable guy just doing his job. But I’ve decided it’s not about fear. It’s about respect.”

“There’s nothing to respect about him,” the ghoul spat. Its body language no longer spoke of someone ready to run. I had it on the hook now.

“Oh? He’s the oldest of the Other – the one being who connects all of us, who has literally seen everything. He takes pains not to interfere with humanity or the rest of the Other, despite his unique position. Seems respectable to me. I don’t know. Me? I’m just doing my job, fulfilling another contract. Right now, he’s my boss, and he’s super fucking pissed at you – so to answer your earlier question, that is what’s going on between you and me.”

“If he’s so mad, then why aren’t you here with an army?” the ghoul demanded.

“I am the army.”

He sputtered a laugh. “You? Really? You’re a mixed-blood troll. I’ve killed full-blood trolls without breaking a sweat.”

“Ah!” I replied. “But you haven’t killed me. Why? Because you know that OtherOps isn’t gonna care all that much about a bunch of dead imps, but they will care about a reaper corpse.”

The ghoul glared.

I went on, “So here’s the deal: no running away. You and me, right now, and let’s see how this goes. My investigation? It’s all in my head. Shit, I’ve even got a video of you shifting on my phone. You run away, and I’ll hand all of that to OtherOps. You kill me now, and the only trail they have is a bunch of corpses.”

You’re insane! Maggie said.

The ghoul shifted weight from one foot to the other. Its face shimmered. The creature seemed uncertain.

“Really?” I asked. “You’re all big and bad when it comes to slaughtering coked-out imps, but you’re a coward when confronted by a man with a gun?”

The ghoul’s nostrils flared. The tension in its stance shifted forward, and its body began to shimmer and elongate. Kappie’s face and clothing faded, replaced by the mangy hair of the creature I’d tangled with the night before. I didn’t wait until the transformation had finished before I emptied my Glock’s magazine into the beast’s chest.

The ghoul absorbed the bullets with a series of flinches, drawing back two steps before dropping onto all fours and charging me.

I tossed the empty gun aside, squared my shoulders, and extended my tusks. Both my Mjolnir and my Grendel’s claw tattoos flared to life. I dropped low, almost overwhelmed by the speed at which the ghoul barreled toward me. I cocked my right arm back, timing for the ghoul’s final leap, and swung my right fist with all my strength.

I missed.

The ghoul spun midair, the weight of its body disappearing in exchange for the lithe form of a catlike humanoid. I felt small but razor-sharp talons snag my inner thigh as the beast dropped below my punch and sped past me, jerking me off my feet and throwing me against a pallet of bags of rice. A scream tore itself from my throat, and I looked down to see my torn jeans soaked with an enlarging stain of dark red.

The ghoul scrabbled all four feet on the gym floor, arresting its momentum on a pallet of TVs and turning to leap for me. I saw the shimmer a moment before the change this time, and I rolled out of the way as the heavy brute force of a bull orc slammed into the pallet I’d been leaning against a moment before. The pallet exploded at the impact, rice scattering all across the gym.

The ghoul paused, stunned, and shook its head, letting out the dull moan of a wounded orc. I rolled back toward it, coming up on my knees and slamming Mjolnir into its ribs as hard as I could. It was like punching the bumper of a Buick, but it had the desired effect: the ghoul folded around the impact of the punch and flew six or seven feet into the air, clearing the next pallet and landing on a pile of cereal boxes.

I pressed Maggie’s ring against the tear in my thigh. Cauterize, I ordered.

A flash came out of the ring, and I bit down hard on my tongue as the stench of burning flesh filled my nostrils. I got to my feet, limping as I rounded the destroyed rice pallet and got my sights back on the ghoul.

It transformed again, its body morphing into Kappie, then into the catlike humanoid, then back into the orc, and finally into the mangy creature I’d fought last night. The ghoul rolled onto its stomach and got to its feet, staring me down with the chest-cocked posture of a silverback gorilla. The bullet wounds on its chest were now gone, and it was already moving like the blow I’d given him with Mjolnir was only a minor inconvenience. I clenched my fists and snapped my jaw at him, my tusks growing to their full length. I was seeing red now, and I fought to control the berserker rage that would cloud my judgment.

He’s damn slippery , I said to Maggie. I just need to slow him down for four or five seconds.

Don’t look at me; this is your stupid plan. He’s not going to slow down until he’s eating your corpse.

The ghoul took one step forward, then paused, sniffing at the air. He slammed one taloned fist on the ground hard enough to shake the floor. “That magic – what is it? Where did it come from?”

Shit, Maggie said. He smells me.

I rushed forward, fists swinging. The ghoul pounded the ground twice and rushed to meet me. He deftly avoided a blow from my right fist, but that was only a feint to take his attention off my left. My Grendel’s claw tattoo flared, sorcery slicing through his meaty stomach and coming up to take his arm off at the shoulder. The ghoul screamed, snatching me with his good arm faster than I could follow and lifting me clear off the ground before slamming me against the floor like a toy.