Laughter echoed as I pushed off the ground, finding my bearings. Roo stared down, wearing a shit-eating grin that’d rival Ace’s. His pals filled in on either side of him, loup-garou and vampires, adults and children. The whole crowd was amused.

“Dammit, Roo, are you insane?” I shouted. I drew my pistols and aimed, but one of the vampires stepped in front of him, wielding a shield welded from non-reflective scrap metal. They were prepared. This was planned. How had I been foolish enough to trust him, especially in a place like this?

I held my fire. “You really want to make enemies with the angels?”

Roo looked around as if searching for the subject of my threat, mockery evident on his aged and scarred face. “I have friends now, Crowley. Powerful friends. And you… you seem all alone in a place where being alone ain’t smart.”

“We had a deal!”

“Which I have fulfilled. You said you wanted to meet my kids’ mama. Well, she met an unfortunate end.” His lip puffed into a pout. “Guess their step-mama will have to do.”

He moved to the side, and the lady vampire I’d witnessed in that brutal memory stepped forward. She wore a form-fitting crimson bodice that left little for guessing. Puffy skirt, flared net sleeves, high collar; she was like something out of a Baroque painting. Her midnight-black hair was pulled into a severe bun, a gold hairpin sticking up from it bearing the likeness of a peacock with red jewels for eyes.

She gripped Roo by the chin and kissed him long and hard, her sharp, red nails scraping across his chest. His foot twitched like a dog having his spot scratched. Only in Crescent City would I find a werewolf king and a vampire queen carousing. This was unheard of. Though I had to admit, they made quite the power couple.

Make no mistake, however. It took me only seconds to see that she was in charge. She had him by the balls, figuratively speaking.

“I’m gonna skin you alive, dog!” I barked.

More laughter. Tourmaline released him, and members of her brood placed an elaborately ornate chair beneath her. She crossed her salacious legs, pale, milky skin showing, and watched calmly.

“What a surprise I got for you today!” Roo announced to the enraptured audience. “A rarity. A Hand of God gracing our halls.” Loud boos flooded the underground chamber. Food pelted me from every angle, bouncing off harmlessly. Didn’t mean my ego wasn’t bruised.

“He could’ve been sent to kill any one of you. Sent by God.” He spat the word like poison. “But do you see God around here? I see only us. And he would dare come here for our Lady Tourmaline and destroy what we built, in our city?”

“I’m only here to talk with her!” I shouted back, but more booing and thrown food drowned me out.

“Well, I say it’s high time he knows what it feels like to be hunted!” Roo said, clapping twice.

“Oscar, Oscar, Oscar!” Everyone around the arena began cheering that name, pumping their fists, claws, or hooves in the air. The ground trembled. Then quaked. Chains on the single gate leading into the pit slowly began to crank.

“See you in Hell, cowboy!” Roo shouted.

That same hairy man emerged from the tunnel. Only from down here could I see how big he really was. Wasn’t just a hairy man—he was a giant. Nearly two feet taller than me, with knotted strands of brackish hair hanging from every inch of him, intertwined with swamp muck and plants. His face was invisible but for glowing green eyes.

His feet struck the floor—they were webbed. A soft touch despite his size. Which meant it wasn’t him causing the whole room to shake.

His arm stretched back, gripping a thick rope dripping with some kind of viscous fluid. The crowd continued to chant “Oscar” as whatever he dragged out moved through the tunnel. I could barely stand straight the ground shook so violently. But there, in the mouth of the tunnel, a shadow loomed. Something enormous.

Then it all stopped—the shaking, the quaking, even the cheers. The hairy giant shouted something, but the rope showed resistance. Like it didn’t want to fight. He pulled as hard as he could with both arms, muscles straining. A roar thundered out with salty spit. The giant caromed onto his chest and was dragged toward the tunnel like he weighed nothing. He let go just in time, rolling to the side of the gateway as a monster rumbled out.

Decades doing this, and I’m still shocked by some of the things hiding amongst us. How, you might ask, does a gargantuan, snapping-turtle-crocodile-hybrid hide? By devouring anything who’d tell its tale.

The size of three stagecoaches cinched together, it could swallow me whole. A shell spanned its top, hard-looking as stone but with leaves of seaweeds growing out of the cracks. Its beaked maw opened to reveal razor-sharp teeth. Apart from that, its mouth was croc-like, while its head was mostly chelonian. It snapped at the giant as it went by, giving credence to its visage. That chomp was as loud as a hammer on an anvil. The giant dove and hustled out of the way, just missing getting swatted by the thing’s enormous, spiked tail before he was through the gate, and it slammed shut.

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With the target of its ire gone, the thing turned on me. A sound like a stopping train hissed from its wide-open jaw. Man-sized claws dug into the dirt, and it stretched its neck. Frilly rolls under its snout started to quiver.

“Hey, boy,” I stammered, holding my pistols to the side in an attempt to conceal the threat. Slowly, I edged forward. It scraped its feet back, leaving claw tracks as wide as water troughs. “Easy now. You don’t want to be here any more than I do.”

Something from the crowd pelted its shell. Then again. Its maw unhinged, and it roared, this time spitting something from deep in its throat. I raised my pistols and fired out of reflex as I dove.

The pistol in my left hand backfired, the barrel covered in some greenish liquid I could only assume to be acid. Some of it spattered my duster sleeve and melted rapidly through toward flesh. I yanked it off and flung it aside, leaving it sizzling on the ground.

“End of the road, cowboy!” Rougarou yelled. “We keep Oscar nice and famished.”

I didn’t have time to think about how ridiculous a name that was for such a creature. For a turtle, it wasn’t slow. It came rumbling at me, mouth gnashing. I glanced left and right, then decided my only real option was forward. I rushed toward the monster, then slid beneath it at the last second. As I drew my silver-dusted hunting knife, I hoped to discover a soft underbelly. Instead, it barely scratched the surface of thick scales.

Dodging a powerful downward strike from its tail, I didn’t see it slam into the pit’s wall, but I heard it. I spun around and got a view of the dead vamp, pulverized under its weight. Spikes sparked against the armored appendage, but they didn’t puncture.

The wall gave way, and those unlucky enough to be close found themselves toppling into the pit with me. Bones crunched as Oscar scooped up a little black cacodemon in his mouth. The thing barely even had a chance to scream. But all the others did. They tore off like bats out of Hell, looking for any way to escape the arena. Oscar gave chase, and the crowd really loved that. Some happy family of Underdark creatures…

“Shar, now would be the time for a miracle!” I whisper-shouted to myself. I’d take an earthquake or a catastrophic flood—

That angelic son of a gun. Wasn’t sure if it was her or not—seeing as how we were surrounded by Luciferian wards—but from the shattered wall, water started guzzling through. Must’ve been Oscar’s pen back there. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. If I could get him to hit it again… I’d potentially corner myself but let the gulf come flooding in. Might be my only shot.

“C’mon, you big sack of scales. Come at me!” I shouted as he ran down a pair of hellhounds.

I fired at its face. Silver didn’t seem to have any effect, and the bullet bounced off. I didn’t watch where the slug went but hoped it caught Roo or Tourmaline in the skull.

My shot might not have done anything physically to Oscar, but it pissed him off good. Quickly holstering, I gripped my lasso as he charged me. His nostrils flared, almost like a horn atop his jagged snout.

I held steady, feeling every bit the Spanish matador. Only feet away now, he chomped. I dodged, but it was too big to fully evade. The ridge of his shell hit my waist and sent me tumbling up and over the top. Sometimes, it’s a pleasure not to feel.

Rolling down its rear end, I looped the end of its tail and pulled tight. My body wrenched back in the other direction, but I was on. No Heavenly judgment from my blessed lasso, not even a twinge of Shar’s justice. This was just an animal, after all—oversized and alone—but an animal nonetheless.

Oscar bellowed and thrashed his tail. I held my grip, pulling myself up until I could jab my knife in just enough to get balance. It shook to and fro, hoping to knock me off. The crowd continued trying to pelt me with food and rocks. I freed my lasso and got it around one of the spiky protrusions cresting the front edge of the shell. I dug my boots in and climbed.

The beast snapped backward, unable to bend his stubby head anywhere near far enough. Lucky me, it was more turtle than gator. I scaled it farther, aiming for the spongy flesh at the base of his head. It ran circles around the arena, making each movement a chore. Then it smashed itself against the wrong wall.

Spikes screeched over my head across the shell as I ducked. Chunks of seaweed slapped my face and obscured my vision. I twisted off to the side. Then, as soon as the event was over, I righted myself and tried my best to steer him toward the gurgling water.

With one more tug on my lasso, I propelled myself to the front edge of the shell, right over his head. Down went my knife with all my might into the top of Oscar’s cranium. Only went in a few inches, but it stayed there.

Over my shoulder, I glanced up at Roo. His eyes were saucers. We knew each other well enough for him to get an idea of my next move.

“Sorry, pal,” I whispered to the beast.

With one hand on the shell, I balanced long enough to kick my heel down on the handle of my knife. A roar split my eardrums. Oscar reared back as far as he could go, spewing acid. People screamed as some reached the crowd, and more splashed onto the arena walls, melting through.

Then he charged, intent on flinging me off. We hit the mud near the gate, and Oscar sank a step. Then, as he flipped and rolled forward, he sent me soaring.

When I landed, I turned to watch the turtle’s handiwork. A beast that size and with such rage and momentum? The arena’s wall crumbled and cracked from the force and spilling acid. Water erupted, confusing the critter. He reared back again, then butted his head into the same spot.

Crack!

A bullet just missed my hand, pinging off Oscar’s shell. Out of my peripherals, I saw Roo staring down the sights of my very own rifle. I swore. That thing was loaded with silver. If he was trying to take me out, he’d do it with that. Not very fair, to my mind.

His next shot caught me in the calf—in and out through skin. Let’s just say that while I’m numb to most things, silver is a son of a bitch even when the bullet exits. Bright lines of pain shot up my leg as it sizzled with white steam. Having gone so long feeling so little, it hurt all the more. But he’d made one fatal mistake.

He pissed me off.

I whipped my lasso and snapped it out. He thought I was going for the Winchester and yanked back. But I wasn’t. Instead, it caught the back of Tourmaline’s chair.

I was going for her neck, but all things considered, under the circumstances, it was still an ace shot. Behind me, Oscar smashed his head into the wall again. The whole room shook, and I used that momentum to pull an already unstable Tourmaline and her would-be throne right down into the pit with me.

The arena’s wall spilled open, driving coruscated cracks through the entirety of the hall. Everyone still watching toppled forward under the weight of the beast and falling rock. In an instant, we were swimming, all of us.

It all happened so fast. Tourmaline bobbed in the water in front of me, rage creasing her features. Then someone slammed down on her before she could get a hit in. Vampires are exceptionally strong and fast, among other gifts—especially older ones—but they aren’t invincible.

Together, we all went tumbling through the watery abyss, bumping and smashing between broken stone and shell. Not my finest move. Far from my worst.