Jason

It's true: once I found a way to contact my universe, Tabitha, Croft's talking cat, told me my wizard friend was missing.

What I might have neglected to mention was how I managed to reestablish contact.

Tabitha was a sex demon. Not a nympho (she was, but I was talking about her species, not her personality), but a succubus. She hadn't drained anyone dry in years, thanks to Croft's efforts, but it didn't change what she was.

When they'd first met, Tabitha had been eating her way through NYC, leaving husks in her wake. Everson Croft, then a rookie wizard, had confronted her and, after nearly being killed, had defeated the demon. To prevent her from retreating to an alternate plane to lick her wounds, Croft had trapped her in the nearest living thing he could find: a tabby cat, hence the name.

Everson, maybe being sentimental, hadn't had the heart to behead the possessed cat and end Tabitha for good, or at least banish her permanently. Since then, they've had this weird arrangement, not quite being roommates. Tabitha isn't a pet, but she sure is lazy enough to need someone taking care of her.

(Now, I might snap back at her for her bitching-I don't think I've ever met anyone she hasn't whined at or about-but I'm fairly sure Tabitha is depressed. She spends most of her time eating and sleeping and, according to Croft, has fainted once or twice due to overeating. It's the unfamiliar body, I think. Well, that and Croft not letting her drain people.)

Getting back on track...Tabby would bite my ears off if she heard me call her a demon (again), before explaining how she's only related to them, which is how she's able to sense shifts in the nether realms, something that has helped Croft many times, not that he appreciates her. 'Couldn't you at least buy better food, darling'?

But, regardless of what she called herself, I knew what called to her. In my world, I'd have struggled to find a place like that, but this was the Nightside. What I needed was a place saturated with lust, which also had a demonic bent. Luckily, in this city, such places were harder to avoid than find.

'Luckily'...

It took me a while to find the nearest appropriate brothel, but that was more due to the Nightside's shifting cityscape than anything. I knew most of the city from my time with the Nightguard, and my senses helped fill in the gap.

After walking a few dozen blocks and ending some fights others started, I found myself in front of a manor-esque building, painted in soft white and purple. Windowless, the only entrance was a steel door that towered over me.

Eight feet tall, half as wide and a handful of inches thick, the door was also enchanted, a protection that served as an opening mechanism as well: the spell assured the door with no handle would only open if the person wanting to enter was feeling lust.

In my opinion, it was a stupid-ass idea. Maybe I was talking from experience here, but back in the army, at least, you weren't always raring to go when you went to get laid. Sometimes, you were just tired and stressed, or looking for some company.

Granted, knowing the city's residents and the tourists who didn't instantly run screaming upon finding themselves here, maybe every patron was horny when they arrived. Hell if I knew, or cared.

I narrowed my eyes, searching the patterns of the spell. The magic would've been invisible to my human self, but, as monstrous as the Blue Wolf's spirit made me look, it was beyond useful.

There were no strengthening enchantments, which was good for them, because I was already eyeing the dragon napping across the street, snoring atop a pile of slagged cars without a care in the world.

Wouldn't be the first building I'd flattened with a dragon, but I'd rather avoid turning this one into an improvised hammer, too.

Satisfied I'd only have to rip open the door to enter, not the whole building, I placed a hand against the steel, digging my clawed fingers into it to the knuckles. Grunting with effort, I pulled, and the door was torn off its hinges, flying aside like a three ton curtain.

I walked in, already feeling like an idiot, but reminded myself I was here only because I'd exhausted all reasonable alternatives. Sure, the chances my plan would work were slim, but I wasn't about to sell my power or other parts of myself just to get back home.

The others had had better luck, and I still wondered why. The Blue Wolf, even after it had been awakened, for lack of a better term, wasn't talkative or given to contemplation. Maybe it recognized the Nightside as a dangerous place filled with monsters, and instinctively refused to let me leave it?

At least I'd been told contact with someone from my universe could help me return.

To my mild surprise, not everyone on the ground floor looked at me when I entered, despite the crashing sound the door made when landing on the street. I suppose it was understandable: half of them were getting to know their partners for the night.

One thing the hookers draped over the customers had in common was that none of them were from an earthly plane of existence. They ranged from the hellish to the eldritch, and only a few met my eyes before looking away, either to get back to work or because they saw what I was.

"Oi! What do you think you're doi-"

I interrupted the tough-looking, squat woman who came at me almost at a run, by quickly pulling out an ebony token and pressing it into her hand.

"Walker will take care of it," I assured the madam, spotting a flight of stairs hopefully leading to somewhere more private on the floor above. "Put a handle on the freaking door, lady, and forget the spell. Not everyone will come here already in the mood."

"Teach your grandmother to suck eggs..." she scoffed, but pocketed the token, before crossing her arms. "How can I help you, Wolfe?"

"Just getting a feel of the place for now," I answered, relieved she knew who I was (though, granted, how many blue wolfmen did Walker work with?). Good. This would hopefully cut through the bullshit. "Say, would you happen to have anyone good at astral projection? Reaching across realities, things like that..."

"Oh, I get it." She nodded. "Many folks come here to rekindle old flames, and introduce them to their newest lovers. Any preferences?"

She wasn't getting it at all, actually (I could only imagine how mortified Daniela would've been if I summoned her spirit here, not that I would. Just the thought of disturbing her rest pissed me off), but I wasn't about to correct her. "How about someone who says little but gets things done?" I indicated her pocket. "Put that on Walker's tab, too."

I doubted the asshat was going to enjoy the way I was using his favor, but I'd be out of his hair soon.

* * *

The woman was voluptous, with wavy silver hair as pale as her skin, and wearing a gauzy thing that left little to the imagination. The only abnormality was the unblinking blue eye in the middle of her forehead, above a blindfold, but, hell, who was I to talk about people looking weird?

I'd been standing with my hands in my pockets when she'd come up, smiling coquettishly in a way I couldn't help but think was forced.

"How do you want to do this?" she asked in a breathy voice, placing her hands on my chest to thread her fingers through my blue fur.

"Actually," I replied, wrapping my hands around her wrists to gently move her hands away, "I'm not here for anything like that. But maybe you can help..."

Claire, as she introduced herself, did finally blink at my request, before shrugging with a smile. "You're paying. I'm sure we can work something out. This Tabitha lady, do you have anything of hers? Some clothes, hairs, anything like that? Would help me focus."

I wouldn't have described Tabitha as a lady in a million years, but it wasn't like this woman knew her. "Would a memory suffice?" I tapped my muzzle. "I remember scents more intensely than humans do, and I've been around her for some time."

Claire nodded hesitantly. "We can try..." she wrapped a gand around my nose, then placed her other one over my eyes, holding tightly onto my head. "Think of her."

* * *

Tabitha looked like she'd been dumped into a surprise bath, which told me things hadn't changed that much since I'd left. Her green eyes quickly took in Claire, before the succubus seemingly dismissed her and looked at me. "Oh, it's you," she drawled in a bored tone. "Couldn't you have stayed lost? You take up so much of my home, darling..."

"Screw you too," I said in response, motioning for Claire to move aside, then faced the flickering image alone. Despite being half as big as the room, it somehow made Tabby look thinner than she was. "Wouldn't have woken you up, but every attempt to reach Everson failed. Know anything about that?"

The cat rolled her eyes. "I hardly know how you've been howling at the moon...but, if I were to hazard a guess, I would say it has to do with his disappearance."

I noticed my ears were pinned against my head, and fought not to bare my fangs. "Croft's gone? Where? For how long has he been missing?"

"I couldn't say." She stretched, before resting her head on her paws. "He holed up in his lab, then cut it off from the world with some new spell." Tabitha closed her eyes, an ear twitching. "That god who keeps pestering his older kid, remember him?" She let out a jaw-cracking yawn. "Learned it from him."

I tensed. Hermes-or, at least, the incarnation that often dealt with Alec DeFazio, son of an alternate version of my friend-had turned out to be an ally by the end of his last meeting with Croft, but neither of us really trusted him. The Olympian took it as an occupational hazard, and laughed it off.

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"Since when does Everson call Hermes for help?" I asked, not liking where this was going. Had the god tricked him into magically trapping himself, as part of another stupid game of his?

I knew Hermes could play along when nevessary, but there was no Persephone going insane now, no threat of Typhon emerging into the world.

Tabitha's whiskers twitched in annoyance as she shifted in something I couldn't see; probably her divan. "The fool's been dreaming about you being trapped in darkness-not that he's been sleeping much, mind; too busy looking for ways to bring you back. He thought you might be in a shadow present, and Hermes knows more about those than him."

"I'm not." The Nightside definitely wasn't a parallel reality formed out of possibilities that had never come true. "But I might start making my way back in a minute. Just hang on." I tapped my fingers against my side. "What does this spell do?"

"Creates a bubble of altered time. I understand it can be set so a second outside is a year inside, but Croft's probably not stupid enough to do that."

I chuckled. Coming from Tabitha, that was practically a compliment. I quickly got serious again, though, seeing her point. Magic-users like Everson could live forever unless killed, and grow stronger as time passed. My friend was unlikely to risk having his magic grow that much without someone around to help him handle it.

"You sait it cut his lab off from the world, too?"

"To prevent disturbances," Tabitha droned, making me think she was quoting the wizard.

Yeah, that sounded like him, alright. But... "And Hermes taught him this, just like that?"

Tabitha shook her head. "In exchange for not getting to see that boy this year."

Aw, man...Alec had grown up in a shadow present NYC that was practically a warzone, and he'd never met his dad until finding his way to my universe. He and Croft could reunite once a year, during a celebration dedicated to Hermes. Had that douchebag really come up with this deal?

Tabitha's eyes softened almost imperceptibly, like they sometimes did when she was around children. Her disinterested expression quickly returned, however. "From what I heard, he had to lose something he loves in order to bring back a lost friend. Sounds like mushy crap to me, but the idiot said the metaphysics makes sense."

I looked aside, hoping Ricki and the others hadn't been left alone too long. "How much time has passed since Croft isolated himself? It's been a year here."

"Few days. Almost a week." Tabitha regarded me blearily. "Can't you follow dog years and just...die of old age?"

"Happy to disappoint you," I growled, amused. "Listen, Tabby. I'm gonna use you as an anchor-"

"Boy, you'd better not be making fun of my weight," she warned with a glare.

"Maybe not the best metaphor," I said without a shred of guilt. "A beacon, then. I'm gonna home in on your aura, and try to return. Don't go anywhere."

"As if I had a reason, darling..." she said, turning over so that she was onto her back, a paw pressed dramatically over her eyes. "I am alone, and there is nothing worth eating."

"Alone?" I asked, surprised. "Who's babysitting Tony and Abi?" Vega had doted on them as much as she'd been able to, but duty called, and the detective could hardly take the kuds with her at work. "Are Bree-yark and Mae unavailable?"

Tabitha gave me the stink eye from under her paw. "I am alone," she reaffirmed, "and I fear I shall starve."

"If only," I said, before looking at Claire with an apologetic smile. "Crazy cat lady-ignore her. Hasn't been the same since she gave up sex and started freeloading." Tabitha hissed something nasty under her breath. "Why don't you bring that friend of yours you mentioned, and we'll see if she can make a portal?"

* * *

The portal had to be opened outside the brothel, since Trish, a mage specialized in bending spacetime, had more power than finesse. After being introduced to the chipper, dark-skinned woman, I waited for her to get into casting shape, an imperceptible ritual that left her physically exhausted but in tune with her mana.

After asking Tabby to tell everyone I'd be getting back as soon as I could, I told Claire she could stop using her power, and followed the tired, flushed women downstairs.

In my defense, I was homesick enough I didn't think how it must've looked.

"Nicholson!" my least favorite undead hollered, arms wrapped around two beings of indeterminate sex or shape as he waved at me. Dead Boy, who was wearing a smirk and nothing more, looked from Claire to Trish, dark eyes widening. "Damn! Never thought you had it in you, but I think-"

"Why don't you stop that?" I suggested. "Dangerous habit. Heard it can cause headaches." I looked at the madam, who wasn't in the least bit ruffled. "Do people get busy right here all the time?"

"Sometimes." Her eyes gleamed at the thought of further profit as she touched the token in her pocket. "Interested?"

"Nope." I pointed at her pocket. "And make sure that finds its way back to Walker. He dislikes having his things misplaced."

Ignoring Dead Boy's remarks and questions about blue rockets and knots, I left, the girls teailing me. Good thing, too, or they might've been run over.

A racing car, shaped almost like a wheeled knife, crashed into me. The sharp tip, backed by tons of steel and moving faster than any arrow, parted my fur and skin, before flattening against my muscles.

I snarled as I was sent flying through the front of a building, shattering a reinforced concrete wall and cratering another, which finally stopped me cold.

There were over a hundred feet between my healing form and the crumpled car, a distance I crossed in less than it took my heart to beat. I was already healed by the time the ddriver pulled himself out of the wrecked vehicle.

Much like his ride, he was all shiny chrome. No body paint-just steel. I knew the smell of the metal, and this was no shell or armor. His entire body was steel.

The driver was a big guy, only a head shorter than me, and must've weighed nearly a ton. He had a sour expression as he looked up at me, hands on his hips. "What gives, man? You flattened my wheels! How am I supposed to go back to the crew like thi-?!"

His words became a yelp as I took a step closer, slapping the front half of his car off and sending it flying the length of the empty street. "Ever heard of looking where you're going?" I asked, looking away from him before he could answer.

More cars appeared, of every size and shape, like a crazier, real life version of Wacky Races, deftly making their way around the wreckage. A little guy, small but musclebound, got out of something so flat, I thought he must drive laying on his back.

"Wolfe," he spat out my name, fists clenched at his sides. I'd never seen him, and I'd have remembered an angry midget built like a cannonball. "Who do you think you are, blundering into this rite of passage."

I almost sighed. "What now? Do we know each other?"

Cannonball gawked at me, but composed himself. I could see pairs, trios and clusters of eyes following us from behind the other, idling cars' windshields. "You don't know us? The only people to realise that in every Nightsider's rush to get somewhere, the journey is glossed over in favour of the destination? Speed is glossed over?"

"Look," I held up a hand, not having time to deal with this dumbass cult, gang, whatever they were. "You seem really passionate about this, but I really don't care-"

"You too!" He pointed at me, walking closer with an accusatory look on his face. "You, too, disregard the message of the Speed Daemons so you can get somewhere! We-"

"If only you thought this much about not running people over," I cut him off acidly.

Cannonball lifted his hands, like it wasn't their fault. "You survived. Only those without passion perish." His piggish eyes were practically glowing. "That's what we're about! Passion! You, too, can race to the ends of the-"

"Oh, take a swim," I snapped. The little man was halfway through blinking at my words, but I wasn't about to give him time to puzzle them over. Before his eyes, moving in slow motion, could close, I squatted, dug my hands into the street, and ripped out the section their cars were on, sending them into the sewers as I flipped it.

"Joyriders," I muttered with distaste, ignoring the steel man's attempts at bludgeoning me to death. Each punch would've pulverized a human skull, but they could barely turn my head. "Why don't you take a break, too?" I asked, before jabbing my hand into his chest, plunging it through steel up to the wrist.

He had no insides, just like my senses had suggested, so the impalement only made him angry. Before he could hit back, I grinned into his face and flicked my wrist. The guy went flying over rows of apartment buildings, finally crashing through the front of a high rise. I heard a wall collapse as he rolled to a stop.

Now, to take care of business...

* * *

There was something to be said about the portal sending me to the coldest hellhole I've ever seen, right after being in a brothel. Like existence telling me to take a cold shower. It might have been funny if I'd needed one.

I'd been walking for hours, all the while checking my surroundings for any dangers. So far, none had showed up. I sometimes came across blind, humanlike creatures huddling in caves, but they were mindless, and beyond my help.

Their only aim seemed to be walking, to where, I couldn't tell. Trish had told me this was the best path between the Nightside and my reality, but I had a destination. They only moved in circles, when the blizzards abated.

But the weather was treacherous. At its warmest, still cold enough to kill a human in seconds, the creatures often emerged from their shelters, only for the blizzards to return, freezing them solid so fast their hearts only had time to beat a handful of times-I could hear the sounds, even from dozens of feet away, under the roar of the wind.

I was made of sterner stuff, ignoring the milder cold and only feeling a faint tingling across my body during the blizzards, thanks to my regeneration and toughness. Still, I couldn't help but remember that fight with Orzu, when the White Dragon, ancient enemy of my wolf spirit, had frozen my leg solid with his frost breath.

Thankfully, my healing had returned the frozen-through flesh to a healthy state in the span of a few steps, but it had felt like broken glass shards grinding against each other inside my limb.

Remembering Tabitha's grudgingly-given advice, to seek places that would give me a clear view, I rushed towards the daggerlike shapes on the horizon, covering more than a hundred feet with each lope, and, a few minutes later, was rewarded with the sight of a mountain range, rising like grasping fingers towards the stormy sky.

The tallest mountain was well over twenty thousand feet high, and even though I climbed faster than any human could run, it took me a while to reach the peak. When I did so, though, after a dozen minutes of digging my claws into stone as hard as titanium, I wasn't even out of breath, not to mention I could see an ocean of undisturbed snow that extended for what felt like forever.

With the Blue Wolf lamenting the lack of anything to hunt here, I sat down, back against a rock, and waited.

* * *

Croft's silhouette appeared a couple seconds before his faint voice filled the still air. I jumped to my feet, cautiously approaching the image of my friend, which took a bit to clear itself.

But, eventually, the shape made of light formed into the wizard's features. He looked harried.

Croft's usually neat beard was wild, and he had bags under his bloodshot eyes. His trench coat was open, as were many of its pockets, empty of the vials Croft usually carried. The top buttons of his white shirt were undone, and was holding his staff in one hand and his sword in the other.

The two came together to form his cane, which meant he was casting, maybe preparing to fight something. Vaguely, I could make out his surroundings, including a line of glowing power at his feet, which must've been a casting circle. Behind him, on a table, was a steaming mug, likely that coffee he could never get enough of.

His tired eyes found mine, and he laughed to himself. "Winter wonderland? It was a volcano, last time...still, darkness is darkness."

I didn't know what he was talking about, but I couldn't miss this chance to talk. "Everson, it's me, Jason." I held a hand to my chest. "I've been looking for-"

"Why don't you look out for yourself and back off, pal?" he asked, pointing his staff at me. I grew still. A blast to the chest would break my ribs and maybe my spine, too. I wasn't willing to gamble whether this astral projection of Croft was weaker than the real deal, even tired as he seemed.

"What do you mean?" I asked, slowly lifting my hands to show I meant no harm.

"Why don't you give me a reason not to blast you into next week?" the wizard said. "The last guy who turned into Jason asked me the same thing. What's your deal?"

My temper rose. "I'm not an imposter, Croft. You can ask me-"

"What, how we met?" He made a dismissive sound. "More well-known than I hoped, in the outer planes. People like me and the Blue Wolf don't meet without others finding out."

"Then why don't I tell you about the woman I should have saved, but couldn't?" I asked softly.

* * *

"Lucid dream," Croft said, weapons laying across his thighs, as he sat in a chair. "On my end, not yours," he clarified, rubbing his temple.

I nodded. I didn't think I really needed to sleep, anymore, and I always noticed and remembered when I did fall asleep. I'd felt nothing of the sort. "Glad we cleared things up."

"And you only had to dredge up your guilt, because I'm such a trusting guy," Everson said self-deprecatingly. "Great friend, too."

"Not like paranoia is necessary in your line of work."

"Not at all," he rubbed one eye. "Your friends trusted me more easily than I did you, though, and it's not like they've had easier lives."

"You sought out Legion's remnants?" I asked, mildly surprised he'd even been able to locate them.

Croft gave me a small smile. "The Order knows what it needs. Sometimes, it even pulls through for me." He shuddered theatrically. "That Sarah woman, though...I don't think I've had a dressing-down like that for not structuring my questions better since I went into teaching."

"Don't worry," I replied, "everyone's sloppy by Sarah's standards."

After we shared a laugh, Everson said, "I'll tell you about the rest when you get back. I'll ask Claudius if he can lend a hand, but I should be resting right now, not dreaming. I've been cooped up in the laboratory..."

"Tabitha told me."

Croft nodded. "Think a month's gone by, here. Could've been worse..." He smacked a fist against a leg, looking frustrated. "But I didn't even find anything useful, Jason. Claudius has been out of sorts again, and I can't travel the planes like he does. I've been researching, experimenting-"

"Hiding from your wife and the inevitable smack," I supplied helpfully.

"-I've gotten great at dodging Ricki, thank you not at all." He chuckled, then looked guilty. "But, yeah. She's stronger than I am, but that's not an excuse to leave for...you said Tabitha told you it's been a week outside?"

I nodded. "And that Vega understands, but the kids are missing their dad."

"At least I can undo the spell now," Croft muttered. "It's no longer needed." Standing up, he pulled his weapons into the cane they made up, and leaned on it, running his free hand through his messy brown hair. "You just wait a bit, Jason. We'll have you out of there."

* * *

Claudius was a senior member of the Order most magic-users belonged to. A scatterbrained portal genius, he had memory and attention troubles, but was extremely powerful when he could pull himself together.

The portal he opened was a dark pinprick against the sky, slowly moving closer to me. Croft had promised he'd direct Claudius into making sure I reached the portal. Keeping an eye on it, I began making my way down the mountain in long leaps.

When I reached the sea of snow, I noticed there were many things buried under it. Boulders bigger and heavier than cars were scattered beneath the surface, as were smaller, frailer stones-or, at least, I thought so.

Unfortunately, the smell of old bones picked clean hit me at the same time as the paw.

It was bigger than me, and the paw swipe sent me flying with enough force to split the snow and smash through the rocks it hid. Tens of tons of stone were turned into gravel by the impact, and I came to a rest against a bus-sized boulder, cracking it.

I stood up on shaking legs, tonguing my lower teeth as my body healed. Though it was hanging by a thread, it was fully reattached by the time I began limping forward, and completely recovered when my legs did. I felt my cracked ribs shift inside me, moved back in place by my regeneration.

The thing that had hit me resembled a bear, at least from the neck up, though its snout was too long and it lacked eyes. But the white fur of its upper torso faded into a sphere of what looked like ice, inside of which I could see swifling gore. Every rotation, faces of the wretched humanoids I'd seen earlier appeared, screaming silently. From the sphere, extended a long tail of the same substance, like an icicle.

The creature swung at me again, but I jumped atop its paw and ran up its arm. Maybe too slow to react, maybe surprised by prey fighting back, it was too late to bite me. Instead, I ducked under its jaw, ripping open its throat and beginning to savage it with my fangs.

It bucked and writhed, trying to shake me off like the White Dragon in our first fight, but I was used to my altered body now. Iheld on, even as it shattered boulders by dragging me through them, until I ripped its head off, and stood atop the headless corpse, cold blood running through my fur.

I saw more vast shapes making their way to me, barely visible under the snow, circling like sharks. Inside me, the Blue Wolf smiled fiercely, and, for once, the feeling was mutual.

Claudius' portal was a thousand feet in the sky by the time I reached it. But I didn't need to jump: from atop the pile of monstrous bodies-the result of a battle that had tested my reflexes and regeneration as much as any of my missions with Legion-I was able to simply walk through.