Chapter 9: Messenger

Dyson leapt, there was no moment of thought between the comment and his actions. He bared his fangs, his hands turned to claws, and silver hair grew up to his elbows. He hit the dark fey cop, and the two fell in a tangle to the ground.

The body builder hissed, and flashed fangs of his own, the inch long ivory blades of a vampire. His head jerked like a snakes and he buried his face in Dyson's throat.

Kenzi screamed.

Dyson howled, and punched. He hit the body builder in the ribs, once. Twice. Three times. It was possible to hear the crunch of the vampire's ribs as six of them broke.

The vampire twisted back, his chin slicked with Dyson's blood, and he shoved. Dyson flew back, slammed into the bar, and rolled over top it. He stayed down for a moment, long enough for everyone in the bar to orient on his position.

The vampire climbed to his feet watching the bar. He stretched, pulling the arm well above his head and popped his shoulder. All of the ribs running down that side popped too, as they righted themselves. He started towards the bar, drawing his gun.

Dyson's hand appeared, for just a second and a bottle went flying through the air. A rag was stuffed in the neck. The rag was on fire. The vampire had about a second to shield his eyes.

The bottle burst against his arm, and flaming Everclear coated his body. Dyson jumped up onto the bar, and threw himself at the burning vampire. He took him in a tackle, his legs positioned around the vampire's waist. The flames started to lick at Dyson's clothes. Dyson laid into the vampire, drawing his claws across every available surface.

Kenzi was the first one to hear it. The two slamming doors. One leading to the outside world, the other leading to Trick's private quarters. She heard the cock of the crossbow and the twang of its release. The silver bolt plunged into Dyson's shoulder.

Dyson howled and fell back off the burning vampire. Kenzi rushed to Dyson. Other fey went to the aid of the vampire, putting him out as quickly as possible.

Trick walked into the bar proper, his face twisted in a grimace. "What in the nine layers of Hell is going on?"

Kenzi looked at him, saw him holding the crossbow, and she wanted to strangle him. Beat him. Do something to repay the pain he'd caused Dyson. Instead she turned back to Dyson.

"Are you okay?" she said and looked at him. The shoulder, the puncture wounds, and the burns across his lower body. "Dumb question."

"I've been worse," he said sitting up. He looked at his shoulder and sighed. He grabbed the bolt and cried out as he pulled the bolt out.

By that point, everybody in the bar had turned from Dyson, Trick, and the crispy vampire. They were looking back towards the outside door, and the crowd was parting.

Hale walked through it, his eyes wide as saucers, and a box clenched in his hand, clenched so tightly in his hand that the corners were failing. Something was dripping on the floor behind him.

"Dyson," he said. He didn't look down at the floor, he didn't look like he could see at all. In fact he looked Grecian, running from Marathon to Athens with the word nike on his lips. He wasn't here to declare victory, though. Dyson looked at him, tried to make his mouth work and couldn't.

"Dyson," Hale said again. He lifted the box up and out, like someone was there to take it. "This is…"

Hale stopped, his eyes glazed completely, and he fell forward. He struck the ground and a final rush of air plunged out of his lungs. Never again would Hale sing or draw breath. The wicked deep claw marks on his back saw to that.

"Oh gods," Trick said.

Dyson couldn't stop staring at his friend, his partner.

"Hale," he whispered. Tears broke, and rolled down his cheeks, marching like soldiers to their deaths. He hadn't cried for Bo, or the other women that were lost to this monster. But, Hale. Hale was the final straw.

"You see this," the crispy vampire said in a rasping wheezing voice. He was getting slowly to his feet, his uniform was burnt almost completely off, and his burly body builder friend was supporting him. "This is what the wolf is after. It's not me. It's not you. It's him!"

He pointed at Dyson with his last cry. Again Kenzi heard the click of the crossbow.

"You need to leave," Trick said. He had another silver bolt loaded, aimed straight at the vampire's heart. "Or this will get messy."

The crispy vampire stared at Trick for a moment, trying to judge whether it was a bluff or not. He decided it wasn't.

"Yeah," the crispy vampire said. "Yeah, I don't want to be anywhere near the wolf's bull's-eye."

He and his friends backed away from Trick. Then turned and left the bar in earnest.

Trick removed the bolt, then released the tension on the crossbow's string. He looked at Hale, then Dyson. "What happened? Really?"

"The wolf," Kenzi said. "I guess the werewolf got him."

Trick looked at the body lying on his floor. Hale. He'd almost asked Hale to join Dyson as his guardian. Trick fetched a sigh, one that started deep in his belly and seemed to expel the weight that was gathered on his shoulders.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Trick said, looking up at the crowd of bar patrons. "The wolf is still at large. I think it would be wise for you to return to your homes and lock yourselves in for the night. Put up whatever barriers will make you feel comfortable. And, for the gods, please travel in groups."

A murmur travelled through the crowd and each of the patrons nodded. Home would be best. At least that was the seed Trick planted. Sometimes he didn't need blood to take care of a situation.

The crowd broke up, and each of the patrons left. All of them moving in groups. Trick would pray for those last few, the ones who would have to make the long trek in the dark…alone.

Dyson had drawn up into the fetal position, with his head resting against his knees. His ribs were rocked by silent sobs, and his forearms glistened with the wetness of his tears. Trick fetched another sigh, and felt for a moment that he should paten that sigh, and charge everyone who used it a quarter. He shook his head.

"We need to take care of those wounds," Trick said. "Will you help me?"

Kenzi nodded, and the two of them coaxed Dyson to his feet. They led him downstairs, and laid him on the massive four poster bed. Trick left the room, gathered his many remedies, and set to work.

"What happened?" Kenzi asked.

"It's a shifter thing," Trick said, as he applied a salve to Dyson's burns. "Especially with the wolf shifters. When a werewolf appears in town, all wolf shifters are immediately under suspicion. Other Fey believe the wolf-shifters feel a bond with the werewolf, and sympathize with it. And, other Fey often attack wolf-shifters as a way of getting back at the werewolf."

Trick sat in silence for a moment. He thought about the body lying upstairs, and of the box it held. A box the werewolf felt was important enough for Dyson to have.

"In reality, there is no such connection. The wolf-shifters are secretive about their culture within the fey world, but, if anything, they hate the wolves far more than any other fey."

"What are werewolves?" Kenzi asked.

"Now is not the time for that answer," Trick said. "It would take a long time to explain, and I have a great deal of work to do here."

Kenzi scrunched her face up, and was about to say something highly untoward, but Trick cut her off.

"Hale was murdered as a part of the package he carried. The werewolf found it very important for it to reach Dyson, otherwise Hale would have wound up looking very much like the corpse discovered earlier today."

"So," Kenzi said.

"We need to know what's in it."

"Oh," Kenzi said.

%***%

Kenzi found her way upstairs, and over to Hale's body in as short a period as possible. She didn't want to be far from Dyson, but Trick was right. The package was bound to be another gruesome message from Dyson's werewolf stalker.

She stood over Hale's body, looking down at the wounds on his back. There were five long vertical marks cutting from shoulder to hip, and they were six inches at least. They cut right through his spine in five places. Kenzi could see the shattered bone of the vertebra, and the bloody tangled mess of his central nervous system. It had been a long time since her high school anatomy class, but she was sure it should have been impossible for him to walk any distance after he received that wound.

A shudder crept up her spine, a shudder at the very thought of this werewolf's power. And, another feeling started. An itching, burning sensation between her shoulder blades. It felt…

It felt like she was being watched.

Kenzi looked around, two times in quick succession, and so far as she could tell, the room was empty.

Still, she bent and grabbed the box quickly, and made her escape as fast as she could.

%***%

Not all of the patrons listened to Trick. Not all of the patrons heard the ring of command in his voice. That was one of the good things about certain conditions. And, a certain someone still sat in the booth furthest from the light, and had removed the light bulb from their hanging lamp.

Currently, the only light that certain someone had was the light of a cigarette's cherry. They took a drag, and their yellowish-gold eyes glowed in the red light.

They had watched the chaos of the bar fight. They had watched the chaos of the black man's death. And, they had watched the pithy little girl as she came to retrieve the package.

Their smile was revealed by the next drag on the cigarette.

The chaos was working well, just as they had planned.

Dyson would soon be theirs, and theirs alone.

A/N: Almost forgot to post this week. Sorry about that.