“It’s not a bomb,” Brown told Russ. “There are no signs of any explosives at all. Here, let me show you the X-Ray.”
Russ was lucky Brown got along so well with the local police; if he didn’t, this entire exercise would have been far more difficult. Ever since they were moved to New York City from Boston, Russ spent more time with Quincy while Brown dealt with the police, other than UERT. Brown seemed to have an issue with Lancaster, so Quincy dealt with UERT.
Russ took a close look at the screen. It was really pretty clear; there were only two things in the box, other than some fuzz that was probably bubble wrap; it didn’t show up on the image at all. No, what showed up was a familiar shape. Above the shape, next to the top of the box, was something that looked like a small rock.
The package didn’t hold a bomb, but what it did hold was almost as bad. It held a vase shaped almost exactly like the Solomon vases. It was close enough that Russ couldn’t be certain it wasn’t one, especially not with the recent news from the Museum that they’d discovered that some of the recovered vases were fakes.
Technically, Russ didn’t know if it looked like a Solomon vase or not; all he had was an X-Ray image, after all. He wasn’t going to bet against it, however; those things were nasty, just as nasty as a bomb. Maybe even nastier. The problem wasn’t just an initial blast, after all; there were lingering effects.
Russ shook his head and tapped the small rock on the screen. “Any idea what that is? I’m really suspicious that that might still be a bomb, just not much of one. All it has to do is break the vase.”
“Vase?” Brown frowned and looked back at the screen. Russ could tell when he realized what Russ had seen immediately by the way that he paled. “I … think I’m going to ask them to open the package in the truck. Just in case.”
“With a robot, I hope?” That ought to be safe, at least for any humans. It might be expensive if it destroyed the bot, but that was still cheaper than a human life. “Do they have video … of course they have video of the interior, they’d need that to control the bot. Can we watch as they open it?”
Russ paused for a moment; just how firm did he want to get? He’d seem paranoid if he were wrong. Another glance at the image made him decide that paranoid was better than the alternatives; he’d seen what one of those things did to Rube simply by touching it with bare skin. He didn’t want to see what it did if it were broken open. “And tell them not to go in until I’ve cleared it. At least, not unless they have someone who can see magic on the team.”
Russ hoped they’d listen.
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As it turned out, Russ didn’t get to watch as a robot opened the box. There ”wasn’t enough room” for him. Brown, on the other hand, did get to watch. Russ was glad at least one of them was able to watch. It was irritating that they’d left him out and let Brown in, but there was no reason to get angry. On top of calling it a magical bomb, he worked with UERT more than anyone else, so he’d probably inherited some of the jealousy towards them. The important thing was that they’d agreed to play along. That someone could tell him what was happening was a huge bonus.
Since he couldn’t see through the cameras, Russ decided that the best place to be was as close to the bomb truck as possible. Quincy kept him company while the bomb squad set everything up; she didn’t have any more pull with them than he did.
“How long do you think it will take?” Quincy fidgeted while she waited. She’d always been an exceptional liaison, but she wasn’t even close to the most patient one Russ had had over the years and they’d already been waiting for over half an hour.
Russ just shook his head. They’d take as long as they took and he wasn’t ready to bother Brown about it yet.
“Okay, the robot is finally in position,” Brown’s voice came over Russ’s earpiece. “It’s cutting through the tape now, it’s slow to not damage anything that’s inside. Okay, now it’s reaching for it, it’s got a corner of the box.”
Brown paused for a moment in his narration. “Wait, what just happened? Where did those things come from?”
Russ wasn’t fully listening anymore. He’d heard it from where he was, a sharp cracking noise that came from inside the truck, followed by an odd tearing noise that brought back bad memories. It wasn’t even a physical noise; instead, it was the metaphysical sound of reality tearing, just a little. Most people couldn’t tell at all; the ones who could usually didn’t hear it, but to Russ it was always a sound.
Serenity made that sound whenever he opened up his Rift, but that was far softer than this. This was probably not meant to close so easily or seamlessly. Serenity’s was like opening a door where this was breaking the wall; they were very different.
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The sound of tearing metal followed the noise only Russ could hear. A creature sprang out of the side of the truck, followed almost immediately by another. Russ recognized them immediately; he’d fought them before, more than once. They were only about a foot tall and covered in wiry fur. They didn’t look particularly doglike, more like a really mean badger, but that didn’t change what they were called.
“Hellhounds,” Russ muttered. “How the hell do people keep getting their hands on grimoires that work to summon demons?”
It was a question he’d never been able to answer; when he was able to trace one backwards, the trail always went cold quickly. Found at a flea market, discovered in an attic, even found in a used bookstore; it didn’t matter, there didn’t seem to be a single source.
How they were here wasn’t his top concern at the moment, however. Russ pulled his soulblade from nowhere and ducked under the police tape; the sooner these things died, the better.
The moment they saw Russ, both of the hellhounds charged towards him. That was normal; hellhounds were insanely aggressive. Other summoned demons would do the same thing once they saw his sword, but hellhounds didn’t care. They’d attack whatever they saw first.
Russ was only able to spear one of them in its initial charge. The second one tried to bite Russ’s leg as it went past him, but it caught his shin guard instead of his flesh. Russ would accept the loss of a pair of pants a lot more easily and be grateful it wasn’t worse.
Russ spun around and caught the second hellhound through the head before it could bite him again. He heard the sound of a pistol firing; it sounded quiet compared to the noise of his blood rushing through his body, but he knew Quincy was doing her best. It was too bad that hellhound fur was nearly bulletproof; a handgun wouldn’t hurt it enough to kill without extreme luck and killing was essentially the only way to handle hellhounds.
The noise of strained metal tearing was the only warning Russ had before a weight caught him in the back. Most of it was held by his chest armor, but two areas of pain on his right shoulder told him that his armor was insufficient. He stabbed backwards awkwardly; there was no good way to hit a hellhound that was clinging to his back, especially not when it was his right shoulder that it had ahold of with its teeth.
Russ felt his soulblade hit something. The teeth withdrew painfully, probably to bite him somewhere else, but Russ didn’t give it time for that. All he had to do was twist and his sword would go right through the hellhound.
“How many of these things are there?” Russ picked himself up off the ground. He was covered in blood. Most of it was hellhound blood; most of that was probably from the one he’d just bisected, but it didn’t matter. He was simply grateful that hellhound blood wasn’t as aggressive as hellhounds themselves, much less the blood of certain other demon types. His own injuries were bad enough that he was going to need immediate medical care, but at least it could be mundane.
“Four,” Brown reported over the earpiece that had somehow stayed on Russ’s head despite the movement of the quick fight. “What are they? You called them hellhounds?”
Brown didn’t sound nearly worried enough. He’d never actually run into demons, had he?
Russ really wished he had competent backup, but he hadn’t expected demons. At the most, he’d expected whatever it was that hurt Rube, and more people wouldn’t have helped with that. More realistically, he’d expected the creatures he’d fought with Serenity in that parking lot a few years back, but this time they wouldn’t have had the chance to multiply. One trapped spirit was well within Russ’s capability.
As he watched, the fourth hellhound made its way out of the truck. It was a little larger and much more careful than the other three. That wasn’t good news; with hellhounds, more careful meant smarter and more dangerous. Sometimes it also meant additional abilities.
The hellhound noticed Russ and opened its mouth towards him. Russ knew that there were really only three things that could mean; he hoped for the roar that meant it was angry with him, but he couldn’t expect that. He was already running to the side, trying to get far enough ahead of the hellhound’s turn, when a wash of fire rolled out of the hellhound’s mouth. This one had the signature fire spit that got them their name.
A few licks of searing heat washed over Russ’s side, but not enough to do more than hurt, at least not immediately. He was unfortunately experienced enough to know that he should be glad it still hurt. It didn’t reduce the pain any.
Quincy was screaming at Brown over the earpiece; Russ heard but didn’t pay too much attention. He knew they’d called for an ambulance already; it wouldn’t be far away at all. He needed to deal with this demon before he couldn’t; they didn’t have the kind of backup they needed here. Not for demons.
The moment the fire stopped, Russ turned and charged closer to the demon, avoiding the sizzling spots where the fire breath’s remnants still burned on the pavement. It wouldn’t be able to spit fire at him again any time soon, but that didn’t make it helpless.
The hellhound opened its mouth again and roared at Russ. He felt a wash of emotion wash over him, clearly meant to stun, but they rolled off his hard-won mental shield like a gentle rain. The hellhound was even more advanced than Russ had guessed; it was unusually small to have two such strong abilities. Russ was simply lucky that one of them was essentially useless against him.
That pause was all Russ needed to reach the hellhound and stab its head as it lunged for him. His hand and arm ended up actually in its mouth, but his blade ripped through its brain before it could bite down on him.
That was far too close. Far, far too close.
As he started to relax with the end of the fight, all the pain be’d ignored started to get his attention. He’d clearly taken some injuries he hadn’t even noticed; when did something hit the front of his left hip?
Russ really hoped there were indeed only four of them. He wasn’t certain he could manage a fifth. “I’m too old for this shit.”