Renegade Elements

By Aaron Utain-Evans

When something goes bump in the night, hire the guys who’ll bump back.

Business is good for Fenrir and Hantu. As the only ones both willing to and capable of taking down Demons, they’ve carved a nice little niche for themselves as part investigators, part exterminators.

Of course, it probably helps that they’re Demons too. Hiding in exile for refusing to take part in an invasion of Earth, these two rogue hellions just want to make a living and keep a low profile...which might be tough when they run into a young woman hunting for the Demon who murdered her family. She’s kicking down doors Fenrir and Hantu would rather keep closed, dredging up old enemies and ancient vendettas. Now they’ll need to deal with hostile warlords, demonic nobility, bounty hunters, assassins, living nightmares of all shapes and sizes, and worst of all: irate teenagers. Time to get to work...

Renegade Elements is an urban fantasy action adventure novel series. Contains some graphic violence, suggestive themes and adult language.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Aaron Utain-Evans
• Release date: Feb 23, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311881069

Aaron Utain-Evans

Aaron Utain-Evans is a really awesome guy with millions of adoring fans the world over and author of countless award-winning books. He also enjoys making wild exaggerations for dramatic effect, so it's appropriate that he writes fiction. Enamored by stories and with creating his own from a young age, he writes not for fame or riches, but so he can share the crazy adventures he dreams up with others.

Book preview

RENEGADE ELEMENTS

Aaron Utain-Evans

Copyright 2015 Aaron Utain-Evans

Published by Aaron Utain-Evans at Smashwords

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you370fre reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

To my family, who supported me on this long journey.

To Justin and Bene, who I also hope to see create as well some day.

And to you, for taking an interest in some weirdo’s crazy adventure stories.

Episode 1- Two Birds, One Stone 4

Episode 2- Deadly Curiosity 18

Episode 3- Call to Arms 37

Episode 4- Hindsight 52

Episode 5- Family Matters 70

Episode 6- A Father's Legacy 92

Episode 7- Deep Impact 118

Episode 8- Hunting Grounds 132

Episode 9- Mirror Match 146

Episode 10- An Issue of Trust 160

Episode 11- Prisoners of Our Own Device 192

Episode 12- The Forces That Fuel Your Hate 218

Episode 13- A Classical Tragedy 229

Episode 14- The Cavalry Rides In 262

Episode 15- Predator and Prey 280

Episode 16- Brittle 301

Episode 17- Unearthed 313

Episode 18- Old Rivals 328

Episode 19- Tunnel Vision 339

Episode 20- Vendettas 351

Episode 1- Two Birds, One Stone

She was awoken by a loud crash. Leaping out of bed, she threw on a bathrobe, grabbed her baseball bat and quietly made her way over to the stairs. She had no pets and her husband was away for the week, so a loud noise this late at night could only mean one thing: someone had broken into the grocery store she owned and lived over. As she crept down the stairs, she couldn't help but be reminded of her husband nagging her, that they needed a security system to protect their livelihood. Nonsense; she preferred to handle these matters herself. Make yourself threatening enough to the local hooligans and that'll deter them better than some automated alarm, that's what she always said.

She reached the ground floor, rounded a corner, and froze. Crawling around a knocked-over shelf was a creature the size of a large dog, but with rough, scaled skin, clawed appendages and spines that ran along its back. Electricity periodically crackled between the spines, becoming more active when the creature bit into one of the scattered foodstuffs. Her first instinct was to try and identify the creature, which proved to be a challenge; was it some kind of exotic lizard, escaped from the zoo? But no lizard she knew of had electrified spines.

Another, less rational term from her church-going days entered her consideration: demon. She could hardly believe she was entertaining the thought; otherworldly monsters had long been the subject of urban legends and horror stories, pure fiction and superstition. Yet, here was one right in front of her, pillaging her retail stock no less.

She hesitated: what should she do? When faced with a normal intruder, she would charge out yelling and swinging, but the creature's claws looked sharp, and those spines probably weren't for show. Calling the police seemed like the smarter idea, so she turned to go back up the stairs...and her bat, momentarily forgotten in her hand, bumped audibly against the railing. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the creature stop and whip its head in her direction reflexively. It stared at her for a moment, then let out a hissing shriek and leapt from the shelf with ferocious speed.

She scrambled back up the stairs, slammed the door at the top behind her and locked it. The door trembled, the creature clawing and ramming against it. Unsure of whether it would hold, she retreated further into the apartment, locking doors as she went; when she felt she'd bought herself enough time, she grabbed a phone and dialed 110.

Police dispatch, what is your emergency? The man on the other end of the line answered.

I need you to send some help, there's some kind of creature in my house and it's after me!

The dispatcher hesitated. A creature? You mean...a wild animal?

No, it's some kind of monster, or...or demon, or whatever you want to call it! Just send somebody over to kill it, quickly!

There was an uncomfortably long pause before the dispatcher answered. Ma'am, I'm sure you're just imagining things. Have a good night.

Imagining things?! She shot back, her fear of the creature briefly forgotten. This thing knocked over my shelf, it's breaking down my door, I'm not just-! The phone clicked, cutting her off. She stared it for a moment, then slammed it back down onto its receiver.

She picked her bat back up; if no one was going to come help her, she might as well die swinging, if it came to that. But as she weighed her options, she realized how quiet it had become; had the creature given up and left? Impossible; she wasn't that fortunate. Still, she unlocked the door and poked her head out. The next room was empty, as was the next. She didn't get results until she returned to the stairs. The creature had left, in a sense: it was dead, its crumpled corpse lying at the bottom of the steps. There was no blood, but the remains sizzled and sparked, dissolving, and there were scratch marks and dents on the nearby walls, signs of a struggle.

She wasn't certain until she noticed the store's front entrance now hung open, left there by someone making a hasty exit: someone who had come by and killed the creature, undoubtedly saving her. She shivered, due to more than just the night air; she'd heard plenty of stories about demons while growing up, and now she supposed she had a story to tell others. She'd never believed them, of course; would anyone believe hers, like the police hadn't?

One thing was certain: maybe a security system wouldn't be a bad idea after all.

***

Emerich wound down the outro for Bon Jovi's Wanted Dead or Alive and paused to wipe the sweat from his brow while the crowd applauded his performance; he was casually dressed, wearing a blue muscle shirt and jeans that did a good job of showing off his athletic physique, while his dark brown hair was kept in a sharp crew cut. Thanks everybody, always fun to play for you guys! He called out into the nearby mic, earning a few drunken whoops and cheers; performing in local taverns wasn't exactly glamorous, but he always enjoyed the enthusiasm of his audience after they'd had a few beers.

He packed up his guitar and said his farewells to his band, an amateur group united more for their love of rock music than their skill with it. He made his way towards the bar's back exit, but even though it was a small place, it still took him fifteen or twenty minutes to reach the door; stopping to accept a free drink and chat with fans can cause some delays.

Emerich finally stepped out into the alley behind the bar, shifted the guitar case on his back into a more comfortable position and glanced up at the evening sky; grey clouds blanketed it and had brought a steady rain with them for good measure. He hadn't chosen to live in central Europe for its perfect weather, that's for sure.

What took you so long? A low voice from behind asked. Emerich glanced around to see a man in a thick, hooded gray coat leaning against the wall next to the door. It was unmistakable that they were related, save for a few small details; the hooded man was a few inches shorter, his hair a few shades lighter and a few inches longer, and his body was thinner and lankier than Emerich's more muscular build. It was their attire where they truly differed; hooded coat aside, the man was much more formally dressed in a snug-fitting buttoned-up shirt and slacks.

Emerich shrugged, trying and failing to suppress a cheeky grin. Hey Racher, sorry to keep you waiting. You know I can't refuse a free beer or two, it'd be rude.

Unfortunately.

So what did Tian want? The guitarist asked as he began to walk down the alley towards a faded-white car parked at the end. Racher fell into step next to him.

She has a job for us. Seems we have a new neighbor that's causing trouble.

The kind of trouble we specialize in dealing with?

Indeed. Racher paused to glance up and down the alley, then towards the rooftops, to check that they weren't being eavesdropped. She described it as some kind of serial killer, a demon cannibalizing other demons to make itself stronger.

I thought that kind of shit never really worked?

It doesn't. But the truly desperate will try anything.

Emerich nodded. Fair point. So what's Tian's issue with it? Has it tried to come after her?

No, but her family has been using it as an excuse to try and get her to move back home.

And rather than argue with them, she's hiring us to take care of the problem. The guitarist concluded.

Essentially.

Emerich sighed. I don't mind helping her out every now and then, but she could easily handle this herself.

She's paying us well, if it's any consolation.

They reached the car, and Emerich popped open the trunk. I guess it's a bit of consolation, yeah. He lowered his guitar case inside and pulled out another one, this case cheaper and flimsier, slinging it onto his back with practiced ease. Did you remember to bring your-? He began to ask as he turned to his companion, but then he stopped. Where nothing had been before, a pair of wakizashi short blades were now sheathed against Racher’s thighs.

Of course. The hooded man replied.

Emerich laughed as he closed the trunk, shaking his head and echoing, Of course. Don't suppose Tian mentioned where we should start looking for this guy.

She said all reports of its activities have been in the main metropolitan area...which doesn't narrow it down too much.

The guitarist couldn't help but laugh a little more, this time a bit of exasperation in his tone.Ah, well. Guess we'll start by taking a hike around town while you keep your eyes open, see if we can't stumble across our guy.

***

From its rooftops, a city gains a decidedly different feel to it; it becomes less like a bustling center of civilization and more like an open landscape, wild and ready to be explored. At least, that’s how it looked to Emerich, as Racher was too busy pacing the roof's edge, scanning the streets with his eyes. Anything yet? Emerich asked, almost succeeding in keeping the impatience from his voice.

Without halting his search, Racher replied. Not much. There’s a Lesser on the prowl a few blocks east, a handful in disguise out for a walk, and one in an apartment on the other side of the road making a bit of a mess.

Vandal or murderer? Emerich asked, more out of curiosity than concern.

He’s either a murderer, or very interested in studying the human anatomy up close.

Emerich shook his head and made a disapproving scoff, but said nothing more. After a few moments, the guitarist opened his mouth again. About ready to move on?

Racher concurred and they moved a few blocks down, hopping clear across a small alleyway, where he again took to the roof's perimeter and began inspecting their surroundings. They had not been there long when they both felt a tingling in the air, a sudden slight warmth. Most wouldn't have noticed it, or written it off as an odd breeze, but these two knew better. They looked at each other and Racher asked, You feel that too, huh?

Emerich nodded. Definitely feels like someone's having a throw-down close by. Any idea which direction?

Racher didn't answer right away, pausing first to glance around, then cast his gaze slightly downward. That way.

Come on, let's go see if it's our guy.

***

The walls and floors of the parking garage looked like the insides of an oven left running too long, black streaks and splotches where flames had touched them. A demon with cracked and callused skin, its mouth spurting fire and blood intermittently, dragged itself across the floor. The creature it was trying to escape, a six-foot, faceless figure with a black and bulky chitinous shell, stepped out from behind a still-smoldering pillar then stalked over to the demon, unaware that Emerich and Racher were watching it from a window high overhead.

So what do you think? Emerich whispered in an eager tone. Do we have a winner?

The bulky creature raised its left arm and plunged its clawed hand deep into the demon’s back. The demon shrieked briefly, then fell limp. As the bulky creature held its hand in place, the demon slowly began to dissolve and the liquefied remains of its corpse flowed into the creature’s arm. Does that answer your question? Racher replied, drawing his blades from their sheathes.

His companion smirked. Let's go give 'em the grand prize. As he spoke, he reached back and unzipped the guitar case. The case held not an actual guitar, but a large zweihander sword with an icy blue blade.

By this time, the creature had finished consuming the demon and began to leave. Emerich took a flying leap off of his perch and landed in front of the creature, a wicked grin on his face. Hey there, he said you enjoy your last meal? The creature stopped and took a step back, caught off-guard by the sudden challenge.

In one swift motion, Emerich pulled the blade from his back and swung in a casual, overhead arc. The creature blocked with its right arm, and let out a startled shriek when the sword cut clean into its insect-like armor plating. It lunged towards him, but rather than fight back, it pushed past Emerich and ran out the door.

"I didn't think your one-liner was that intimidating." Racher commented, appearing in the space the creature had just vacated.

I know, I was going for 'provoked', not 'scared'. Emerich replied as he watched their prey attempting to escape.

***

The creature ran down the rain-soaked streets, its bulky shell clanking heavily as it tried to put some distance between itself and its attackers. There would be no running from this fight, however, as Racher dropped down on top of it from out of thin air and slashed at its shoulders with his short swords. The creature let out a yelp, this time more out of surprise than fear, and thrashed about in an attempt to ward him off. Racher leapt away from the swinging claws, and flicked one of his wrists; the air blurred and the one blade he held suddenly became three. As he landed, he threw them at the creature, the blades spinning through the air.

The thrown weapons made only shallow cuts, but they kept the creature from trying to move away…which is exactly what the pair wanted, as Emerich leapt at it from behind, delivering a brutal slash to its back with his heavier two-handed weapon, then grabbed the creature with his free hand and hurled it clean over his head. C'mon, don’t run! The guitarist said with a laugh. Go a few rounds with someone who can give you a challenge for a change! Just as before, his words seemed to have more of an effect on the creature than intended; as it regained its footing, it took a wide, firm stand and clenched its fists. Fire erupted from pores in its left arm, while spines grew from its right that crackled with electricity. Emerich grinned. Okay, now we're talkin'.

The creature thrust its left arm forward, sending a stream of flame at the pair, who moved away from the blast separately. It then thrust its right arm at Emerich, sending a bolt of electricity reaching out to strike him. A well-timed swing from his zweihander deflected the bolt, sparks scattering into the air, and he drew back his free hand as if he were about to throw something. Ice emerged from his fingers and coalesced, taking the form of a large spike the size of a butcher’s knife, and he was about to hurl it at the fire arm when he stopped and realized it was gone. The fire had been replaced by a long, thin, mantis-like blade extending out from the wrist. It then charged, both the lightning arm and the blade arm in a position to strike. Before it had even taken a few strides, however, a blur moved past its legs and the creature fell forward onto its face, Racher sliding to a halt next to Emerich.

As the creature stood back up, it clenched its right hand and the lightning was quickly replaced by large needles of ice, similar to if thinner than the one Emerich still held, that ran along its forearm. Correct me if I’m wrong, but this isn’t normal, is it? The guitarist asked without taking his eyes off of the creature.

You’re not wrong, Racher replied, narrowing his eyes at the creature, I've never heard of a demon gaining new abilities from consuming their own.

Which means we’ve got something a little different on our hands. They both moved out of the way again as the creature launched the ice needles at them, erupting out in a cluster like they had been fired from a cannon. Emerich threw his own spike, the icy blade impaling the creature’s right shoulder. The creature screamed, but was cut short as Racher rushed past it, delivering slashes to its right arm and side. It stumbled backward, its brief surge of courage gone, turned tail and ran around a nearby street corner.

The two gave chase, Emerich grumbling, Guy needs to stop running from us and face his death with a little dignity.

Dignity is probably the last thing on its mind. Racher pointed out.

Hey, I'm just saying, dragging it out like this is just annoying. They turned the corner and paused. The creature had come to a stop in front of a store, and a couple in the midst of a conversation were opening the door and exiting the shop, their eyes on each other. That changed fairly quickly as they realized their path was blocked by the black-shelled figure, and they stopped dead in their tracks. As the creature lunged towards them, Emerich and Racher charged. Instead of attacking the terrified humans, however, the creature pushed them back inside the store and slammed the door behind them. Racher hesitated, but his companion didn’t, swinging his zweihander into the creature's side like a club and hurling the creature several feet away. Before Emerich could pursue his prey, however, Racher held him back. What? What’s wrong?

I think maybe we’re not dealing with any ordinary demon here.

Emerich nodded slowly. Yyyeah, isn't that why we're here in the first place?

"I mean we’re not dealing with any ordinary demon. Racher repeated for emphasis. Give me a moment." He fixed his gaze on the creature before them, and as he did his eyes widened to a freakish size and the pupils began to glow a bright red. After a few seconds, his eyes returned to normal and he turned back to his companion, nodding.

Yeah, why am I not surprised. Emerich said with exasperation. He pointed to the creature, adding, Is it all right if I…?

Sure, go ahead.

Emerich calmly strode up to the creature, which had just gotten back on its feet, and struck it hard across the head with the flat of his sword. The creature spun around on a heel a few times in a daze before collapsing face first, where it lay unmoving. As Racher approached, Emerich slid his sword back into the case still slung over his shoulder, found a crack within the creature’s shell and stuck both hands into it. Gritting his teeth, he carefully pulled the shell apart, beginning with a small break along the center and then expanding it until the shell split in half. He stopped when the shell had been completely split apart and its contents could easily be seen. He glanced over at Racher and sighed. This certainly complicates things, huh?

Racher silently nodded as he stared. Lying amidst the remains of the demonic shell was an unconscious young woman, barely in her twenties, in a red dress shirt and tan slacks that were wet with blood and rain, her wavy black hair in a mess from the fighting.

***

The first thing that came to her mind as she regained consciousness was just how much of a splitting headache she had; but then, getting struck across the head with a sword that size swung around by one of the strongest people she’d ever seen would logically produce these kinds of results. The second thing she noticed were her immediate surroundings; leaning next to a wall and sitting on what felt like a very soft bench. As she tried to bring her eyes into focus, she leaned away from the wall, but was stopped abruptly by a strong hand on her shoulder.

Hey, easy now. No need to get excited, just relax.

Of course, as she looked around frantically, relaxing was about the last thing she wanted to do. She was sitting in a booth in some downtown cafe, her exit blocked by Emerich sitting next to her. Racher sat across from them, giving her a quiet, patient stare. But what really set her off was the fact that almost everyone else in the cafe were casting very nervous glances in her direction. Now fully awake, her face turned as red as her shirt and she opened her mouth to shout angrily at Emerich, but was interrupted before she could get any words out.

You all right over there? A young waiter had stopped at their table and leaned in, staring at her. Though he was obviously talking to the girl, Emerich answered and waved him away good-naturedly.

Ah, she’ll be fine, she just needs a few minutes to get back on her feet, clear her head. Could you bring her some water, maybe some scrambled eggs?

The waiter nodded, then turned back to the young woman and added, Take all the time you need, okay? before walking off.

Momentarily dumbstruck, she quickly regained her angry demeanor. When she spoke, however, she at least attempted to keep her voice down. What is this?! she demanded, Who the hell are you?!

Didn't I just tell you to chill out? Emerich replied with a friendly smile, seemingly ignoring her questions. You need to take it slow after having so much to drink.

Her anger was again overcome by confusion. Wha...?...But I haven't...

No, he replied, leaning closer to her and lowering his voice, but that's not the story we gave them when we carried you in here. Said you'd gotten wasted in a bar and needed a place to sleep it off.

She thought for a moment, then looked down and noticed that her shoulder, arm and back, the major wounds she’d sustained during the fight, were bandaged up and the bleeding had been stopped. And how does that explain my injuries?

Told them you’re a really mean drunk and picked a few fights before we got you outta there. Heh, I’ll bet some of the folks here giving us the side-eye were worried you were gonna wake up and start trashing the place. He smirked and took a brief glance at the cafe’s other patrons. Not the kid waiting tables, though, he's been a real pal; didn't ask any questions, got us everything we needed. Think he might be crushing on you a little bit. What do you think, give him a big tip when we leave? He added with a playful wink.

She eyed him with a cautious, skeptical glare, obviously unamused. I'd give him my phone number if he hadn't just helped the assholes who attacked me out of nowhere.

Emerich cringed briefly and scratched the back of his head. Yeah, sorry about that. We did patch you up, if that counts for anything.

Racher nodded, adding, Only fair to repair the damage we caused.

Her blood was still running hot, but her mood cooled off a tad. Fine, whatever. Now, can we get back to why you two jumped-?

Emerich held up a hand to stop her. Uh uh, enough questions outta you for a minute. Our turn now. You could probably start… he paused as the waiter returned with a glass of water and a plate of scrambled eggs, then left, by explaining what this is. He pulled an elbow-length glove made from what seemed like black leather out from under the table, the outsides rough and jagged, like the material was old and deteriorating. The young woman simply stared at him hesitantly without answering, so he continued. At first, we figured you were just stuck in some crazy suit of demon armor with a mind of its own…

Wouldn’t have been the first time. Racher clarified.

…but when we took this off of you, the armor dissolved. I’ve always been pretty good at math, so putting two and two together was easy. Emerich noticed that she was still giving him a cautious glare, so he sighed and said with an attempt at a comforting smile, Hey, come on, we’re not gonna hurt you…well…any more than we already have. We just want to know what's going on.

The young woman looked between Emerich, who was waiting patiently for her to respond, and Racher, who was still staring at her but now with a look of genuine interest, then at possible exits and then finally at the food in front of her. It was several more moments before she opened her mouth. How much do you want to know?

Your name would be a good place to start.

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, letting some of the tension out of her muscles. Procne Itys.

Emerich nodded. Okay, good, nice to meet you Procne. He held the glove up to her as if to shake her hand, trying and failing to suppress a cheeky smirk.

Ignoring him save for an unamused glance, Procne nodded down at the glove he held. And as for that…well…I don’t know what that is.

Emerich raised an eyebrow, confused. But then how-?

"I-I mean, I know what that is, she quickly explained, Like, I know how it works, but I…I just don’t know what to call it."

A witty grin crossed Emerich’s face as he put the glove on and formed his hand into a raised fist. "Then I shall call it, the Glove…of Dessstiny!" Racher covered his face with his hand but couldn't suppress a chuckle.

Procne stared at him, her mouth hanging open in confusion. I can't tell if you're weirdly charming or just an idiot.

Emerich slipped the glove off his hand but kept the grin on. I can't be both?

Procne took a gulp of water and returned to the subject. Whatever its name is, my dad made it. It's a weapon that absorbs demon blood and lets me copy their abilities.

Made things like this all the time, did he? Emerich asked, examining the glove suspiciously.

"Not…quite like that. He was a scientist, yeah, and he had an interest in…um…weird stuff."

Emerich nodded, finally beginning to understand. He liked to study demonic artifacts.

"Something like that, I guess. He'd bring home tools and things he found and try to figure out how they worked, taking them apart and putting them back together. Sometimes he'd use what he had to make something new, but never anything like that before. She nodded toward the glove again. I don’t know how he did it and I don’t know why, all I know is that someone killed him trying to get this thing."

Emerich found it odd and a bit disconcerting that Procne was able to talk about the death of a family member, much less a parent, in such a matter-of-fact tone. I, uh, I’m sorry to hear that. What happened to him?

Procne stared at her food in silence for a few moments. When she finally spoke, her body had tensed up again and her words came out in a painful, throaty whisper. I...I wasn't there for when it started. Got home and the place was a mess. I found mom, but she was...she told me to hide before it came back. Could hear my dad screaming from his lab downstairs, but he...it didn't last long. She paused again, and looked up to see what Emerich’s reaction was. He was stone-faced, waiting patiently for her to continue. It came back for mom and screamed at her for a few moments, it'd been trying to find something, that, she indicated the glove, but she just laughed in its face. When it heard the police sirens, it... She trailed off, her words failing her for a moment. She was dead by the time they showed up.

I take it the cops were less than helpful? Emerich asked, but he already knew what the answer would be.

I told them what had happened, that I'd seen the monster that killed them, but they wrote it off as a wild animal attack and dropped the case, just like that.

So you went to go find the guy who killed them and take care of him yourself?

Not right away. Procne answered. "For a while, I was a mess. Spent days crying my eyes out, until I got sick of sitting around, feeling sorry for myself. I wanted my parents back, more than anything, but I realized that if I couldn't... Procne's face darkened, I'd avenge them instead."

Emerich nodded, glancing down at the demonic glove he held. And you'd use the weapon your folks were killed trying to protect for some poetic justice.

I certainly wasn't going to kill the bastard with my bare hands. The glove gets stronger the more demons it absorbs, so while I've been trying to find the right monster, I've been...feeding it. And that's when you two showed up. Racher leaned back and rubbed his chin, his eyes deep in thought, while Emerich simply nodded again, the both of them silent. Procne decided to take the initiative before either of them could get a word in edgewise. Is it my turn to ask questions yet? Cause I'd still love to know who the hell you guys are and why you attacked me!

Why? That’s easy. Emerich answered. We were hired to put a stop to the guy running around eating demons.

Procne’s eyes widened. Her body tensed up again as she got ready to defend herself, even if she wasn’t sure how she would do so. The two men were blocking her from jumping across the table, and trying to climb over the seat would take too long; if they decided it was time to put a stop to her, there was little she could do to escape her fate. If you think I’m just going to give up that easily…!

I'd kind of hoped you would, but... Emerich let out a heavy sigh and looked at Racher. Well, guess we don’t have much of a choice then. His hooded friend nodded unhappily. Procne's eyes darted between the two men and the glove Emerich held in his lap, the young woman weighing her options and steeling herself to make a break for it. Before she could act, Emerich abruptly swung his head back towards her and casually asked, So this demon who killed your folks, what did he look like?

She was caught flat-footed for a moment by the abrupt change in mood. He's...he’s tall and shaped like a, uh, a bird, maybe even a raven.

The two men glanced at each other sympathetically. Um, could you be more specific?

More…?! Procne stopped herself, realizing that she was about to ask what was probably a stupid question and instead dug deeper into her memory. Uh, he’s got a bit of a wild face, black feathers, really long and thin arms, his legs are crooked...

Okay, that should be enough to go on. Emerich said, interrupting as politely as he could before glancing at Racher. Think you can find him?

If he’s still in this city, I can track him down.

Good hunting, then.

Racher nodded, then in the blink of an eye he simply faded away. Procne nearly jumped out of her seat, but quickly calmed herself when she realized that Emerich didn’t seem to find his friend vanishing too unusual, and none of the other people in the cafe had seemed to notice. She just sat there for a few moments, her eyes moving slowly between Emerich sipping a glass of water and the demonic glove he still held in his hand. Take your time finishing up here, he finally said, stuffing the glove into his pocket, I’ll cover the bill and wait for you outside.

***

It was nearly half an hour before Procne left the cafe, and by then the rain had stopped. The skies were still cloudy, however, and any light they would’ve let through was now extinguished by the setting sun. Emerich stood idly on the sidewalk, quietly humming to himself, his gaze cast up towards the rooftops across the street, and Procne walked up to stand beside him. Without the demonic shell encasing her, the young woman was rather short, barely hitting five and a half feet. The two were silent for a few moments before Procne finally spoke. Thanks.

Emerich chuckled and waved it off. Hey, don’t worry about it, this one's on the house.

Procne eyed him cautiously; she didn't want to seem ungrateful, but she was still struggling to understand the situation. Look, I do appreciate what you’re doing for me, but why-?

Emerich didn’t seem to hear her, interrupting Procne before she could finish. Ah, there you are. Found him yet?

Procne’s mouth hung open mid-sentence, and then realizing he wasn’t talking to her, turned around to see Racher standing right behind them, causing Procne to jump again in surprise. Wasn’t easy. He answered. Had to go uptown and use the skyscrapers for a better vantage point, but I've got someone matching the description. He’s nesting in a warehouse near the rail line, maybe an hour's walk from here, less if we hurry.

Emerich grinned eagerly. Good work. Shall we get moving?

The two began to walk off, leaving Procne to stare after them with her mouth agape. She quickly recovered from her daze and rushed to catch up.

***

The building Racher led them to was derelict and collapsing in several places, and the site had obviously been condemned quite some time ago. I spotted him making a meal out of some unfortunate individual on the second floor. We can probably get the drop on him if we go in through the roof, but the upper floor’s in poor condition, so we’ll have to watch our step. Racher told him.

Emerich shrugged a shoulder. Meh, I’ve got a better idea. He walked inside and started banging his sword loudly against the metal support beams, shouting Hellooooooo, anybody home?

Procne winced and Racher covered his faced, muttering something about subtlety or a lack thereof. Emerich’s method got results, however, as the three could hear something moving on the floor above them. As they waited, Procne got Emerich’s attention and said, Hey, I need my glove back.

Emerich shook his head, but smiled playfully. "Sorry, no can do. Our job was to shut down the guy eating demons, after all."

At least let me use it for now! This is the bastard that killed my parents, after all!

His smile faded. He glanced down at the glove as he pulled it out of his pocket, then up at the ceiling where the sounds of movement could still be heard, then held the glove up for Procne to see. Only if you promise not to use it after we're done here. You put it in a drawer, forget about it, get on with your life, okay?

Procne bit her lip angrily, but agreed, and Emerich tossed her the glove. She quickly slipped it back over her left hand and clenched her fist; the glove tightened to a snug fit and the rough edges on the outside seemed to stiffen and elongate slightly. Finally, after a few minutes, a dark shape dropped down from the upper level and shuffled through the shadows into the light coming from the open entrance. The creature was exactly as Procne had described; easily nine feet tall, with black feathers covering its body, raven wings extending from its back, long and spidery arms, and an avian face with wild eyes that darted between them rapidly.

Feh! Feh! The demon squawked. What is this? Why do you bother Tereus while he’s trying to fill his belly? Tell him before he decides to eat you too!

Don’t worry, Emerich said, holding a hand up in a calming gesture, this won't take long. I hear you killed some humans recently.

Tereus squawked and scratched his chin. Feh! Sure, Tereus kills humans! Do it all the time! So what?

Did you happen to kill a scientist and his wife too, one that was working on making a glove weapon?

Scientist? Feh! Ya, Tereus killed a science man! Science man wouldn’t give my boss the Darwin! Made the boss mad! The boss sent Tereus to take it from him anyway! Killed the science man, but there was no Darwin!

Procne raised her left hand into the air and announced with a snarl, That’s because I have it!

Tereus’ pupils shrank as they focused on the demonic glove on her hand. The Darwin!! GIVE IT!! He screamed, and dove at her. Emerich pulled her out of the way and Racher vanished as Tereus swooped past where they had been standing a moment before. As Tereus glided into the air and wheeled around to face them again, Procne struggled to pull away from Emerich.

Let go of me! She roared, He’s MINE!

Instead of letting her go, Emerich pushed her behind him. Hey, don’t be so hasty now. Doesn't look like this guy's too bright, but physically it feels like he's only a few ticks short of being a Greater. He said, but then he glanced at her and grinned. Bit out of your league, but just enough that I get to stretch my legs a little.

Emerich was momentarily enveloped by a bright flash of light accompanied by a brief rush of cold air that tingled with released energy, like a generator that had just been switched on. In the blink of an eye, the guitarist had become something entirely different. His clothes appeared to have fused with his skin, which had hardened and become tough and scaly, turning an icy blue save for darker blue streaks of fur running from the shoulders down to his knees. He had grown a few inches thanks to his now canine-like legs. His face was mostly unchanged, but his teeth had sharpened into points and eyes had turned blood red. A short pair of horns poked through his hair, shaped like wolf ears, and a thin layer of ice quickly grew over his clawed hands and shoulders, forming a sort of protective padding.

Procne's eyes widened fearfully and she took a step back. She wasn't the only one; Tereus had halted his charge and let out a surprised squawk. You're a demon too?! Procne blurted out.

About time you figured it out. The now-lupine Emerich replied, his voice a tone deeper. He threw her a playful wink, then he turned back to Tereus and frowned a bit. Disappointed in you, though; definitely not the sharpest tool in the shed if you couldn't tell we were fellow demons the minute you saw us.

We? Then the other guy... Procne said as she whipped her head around, almost dreading what she was going to find.

I have a name, thank you. Racher's voice came from behind her, now a bit raspier than before. He too had changed; his clothes had also tightened and fused with his skin, which had all turned pitch black, becoming smooth and leathery. His fingers and toes now ended in sharp points. The hood of his coat remained, but it now connected to what looked like a cloak that trailed down his back. His face was the only presence of color on his body, having turned bone-white. His teeth had sharpened as well, and his eyes had widened a bit to an inhumanly-large size. Those eyes had become as dark as the majority of his body, giving the appearance of empty sockets, save for the pupils, which glowed an eerie red light. He bowed his head slightly. Hantu, he said, then indicated the transformed Emerich, and Fenrir.

You Greaters... Tereus growled as he edged forward cautiously, a look of hungry desperation in his eyes as they occasionally glanced down at the glove on Procne's hand. You claim that human? No, can't...you...you give Tereus the Darwin. He needs it, needs to bring it back to the boss.

You want it? Fenrir growled back, swinging his zweihander up to lean it casually against his shoulder. Go ahead, try and take it. See what happens. As Tereus edged closer, Fenrir leaned his head back towards Procne. You want a piece of this guy, now's your chance. Mind if I give you a lift?

Procne, still trying to wrap her head around two demons who had seemed to be human a minute ago helping her kill a fellow demon, was slightly taken aback. What?

Before he could answer, Tereus finally mustered up his courage and charged, shrieking. Fenrir took a step back into a bracing stance, grabbed the back of Procne's shirt with his free hand and easily tossed her straight up into the air a moment before Tereus slammed into him; though the avian was much larger, the force of his tackle only caused Fenrir to skid back an inch, the lupine warrior grunting as he endured the blow.

Almost touching the high ceiling, it didn't take Procne long to come to grips with her new situation; clenching her left hand into a fist, she willed the Darwin to life and swung it towards Tereus as she fell back towards the ground. Fire leapt from the glove, carving a streak through the air and engulfing Tereus' head, causing the avian demon to scream as it stumbled away. Reacting quickly, Fenrir caught Procne before she hit the ground and set her back on her feet. As soon as he did, she was off running, the flames replaced by the praying mantis-like sickle blade that she drove into Tereus' chest. The blade met with far more resistance than she expected, leaving only a shallow puncture wound, and she was almost caught by a taloned hand as Tereus swung at her, undaunted. Procne quickly dodged out of the way, watching as the wound she had inflicted slowly began to close back up even as it bled.

Dunno how much effort you've needed to put into the Lessers you killed, Fenrir commented as he rushed in to block a second swing from Tereus with his sword, but it'll take a lot more than that to bring down a Greater like us. He forced Tereus' hand back and carried his momentum through into a brutal slash across the avian demon's torso, carving a red streak through the black feathers. Gotta wear him down! Keep hitting until his body can't keep repairing itself! Tereus retreated away from his opponents, taking to the air with a flap of his wings and causing Fenrir to frown. Hey now, don't go making us chase you around the whole place! Hantu, he called out, mind doing me a favor and keeping this asshole grounded?

Done. His hooded companion replied as he rushed past in a blur of movement. Hantu took a flying leap, his blades drawn from their sheathes in a flash of steel, and spun as he reached Tereus. A clean cut was torn into one wing's limb, and as the avian faltered, Hantu hit the far wall with both feet and bounded off, spinning again and delivering a second slice to the other limb; vital muscles hamstrung, the wings were no longer able to support Tereus' weight, bringing him back to the earth with a crash.

Procne was the first to reach him, the Darwin glove stretching itself along her arm, across the shoulders, and down the other arm so that both hands were encased. They crackled with electricity, and she thrust both into the still-open wound Fenrir had carved across Tereus' chest. The avian screamed, but his wild eyes were bloodshot with desperation and he ignored the pain, lunging his beaked mouth towards Procne to bite off her shoulder. Fenrir himself was between them in an instant, carrying his whole body through a baseball swing to slam his sword into Tereus' side, hurling his opponent away. Undaunted, Procne continued to hurl lightning strikes at the avian, her eyes focused on her enemy and nothing else.

Tereus stumbled, panting, but his single-mindedness was almost as great; already, he was rounding back towards Procne, but a black blur moved past one leg and it gave away, dropping him to one knee. Fenrir stepped in front of Tereus, switched his grip on his zweihander and plunged it straight through the avian's chest. He held it there for a moment, then ripped the blade out, causing Tereus to collapse limply against the nearby wall; he lay unmoving, the only sound he made being a weak rasp as he struggled for air.

Fenrir moved in for the kill, his zweihander raised, but Procne pushed him aside before he could strike. A look of fury filled her eyes as she loomed over the fallen creature, her left hand clenched into a painfully tight fist. After a few moments she abruptly screamed, releasing all of the rage and hatred she had been nurturing, and shoved her hand into Tereus’ open mouth as flames erupted from the Darwin. The avian’s head was engulfed in fire for several moments as Procne screamed, and when she finally relented and fell silent, Tereus’ head had been reduced to a charred husk. The young woman’s body trembled as she stood over the corpse of her enemy, her chest heaving up and down as she gasped for breath.

Hantu appeared next to Fenrir and they watched her silently for several moments, until finally Fenrir placed a hand on her shoulder and asked, Feeling any better? Instinctively, Procne whirled around, the Darwin raised to strike, anger filling her tear-streaked face, but she stopped herself when she remembered who it was and looked away. They were quiet for several moments longer, the two demons waiting for the young woman to speak first. When she didn't, they exchanged questioning glances and Fenrir cleared his throat to get her attention. That was some nice work there, I'm sure your folks-

Procne interrupted him, glaring at the pair with suspicion and anger. Why did you help me?

He stopped and raised an eyebrow. Hm?

You could’ve just killed me like you were hired to do instead of going to all this trouble! So...why?

He looked confused, but not surprised by the question. What, would you rather we did? Look, way I see it, life gave you a raw deal. Me and my friend here, we know all about raw deals. Hantu nodded his concurrence. Only right that we give you a hand settling your business, even with the little bit of extra work.

"But you're demons! Procne argued, struggling to understand what should be conflicting motives, and she gestured towards Tereus' corpse. And so was he! Are you really so willing to fight your own kind, especially for a Human?"

Fenrir shrugged. For mercenaries like us, fighting 'our own kind,' and he paused to laugh at the term, on behalf of Humans ends up being a unique selling point. Why's it such a problem, anyway?

She hesitated before answering. You're just...you're not what I expected demons to be like.

I'll take that as a compliment. Fenrir said with a satisfied smile. He paused, then pointed at the Darwin on her hand. Just don't forget about our deal now; you put that thing away and stop running around like a nutcase so we can go get paid.

He nodded to Hantu and the two began to leave without waiting for Procne to answer. The young woman glanced down at the demonic glove, then narrowed her eyes at Tereus and gave them an answer anyway. Sorry, but I can't do that.

The pair stopped and Fenrir sighed, turning back towards her. Come on, kid, don't start with this.

Weren't you listening to what Tereus said? She contended. "He's been working under orders from someone else, and I won't be satisfied until everyone involved in my family's murder gets the exact same treatment." She held up her left hand and the Darwin let out some flames to punctuate her point.

Look, we sympathize, believe me, he replied in an exasperated tone, but if you go trying to work your way up the food chain, sooner or later you'll find a fish big enough to eat you. Tereus might've been it if we hadn't been here.

Then I guess I'll just have to go back to feeding the Darwin so I can be strong enough to take those bigger fish down.

"You do that and we're right back where we started. Unless you want to go another round with us and get a few more bruises. Or a few broken bones, if we really need to make our point."

Procne stared him down, unwilling to give even an inch, in a tense silence before answering. Or you could help me instead.

Fenrir couldn't help but laugh. Tonight was on the house, remember? We're nice guys, but we're not running a charity.

I'm not asking you to. She replied intently. If you're saying there are things out there more dangerous than what I've already faced, then at the very least help me be ready for them. Then I'll handle things on my own. She paused, waiting for them to answer, and when they didn't she continued. But whether you help me or not, try to stop me or not, I'm doing this. If you can't accept that, you might as well kill me here.

Fenrir glanced at Hantu, who merely shrugged, and let out a sigh. "Alright, alright, I did say we were nice guys. His waist still had pockets even after his transformation, and he rifled around in one for a card and handed it to Procne. Here's the bar we hang out at. Don't have a pen handy, or I'd give you our number. Come find us there tomorrow night and we'll talk."

As she accepted the card, her expression lightened somewhat. Thank you.

He flashed her a smirk. Hey, don't mention it. He and Hantu continued their way out of the warehouse and back into the night air, and he muttered under his breath, Seriously, don't.

So, Hantu commented, looks like we'll be adding 'mentors' to our resume.

Not bad for a day's work, huh? His friend replied with a healthy dose of sarcasm.

Still, I suppose the alternative would’ve been harder to stomach.

Fair point. Fenrir admitted. She's not a bad kid. Got some anger management issues, but I can see why she would. Just wish she wasn't hurling herself head-first into a world of crazy, dangerous shit most people like her try really hard to ignore.

She does have one advantage, though. Hantu pointed out. Us.

Fenrir laughed first and then sighed again. Suppose that's a start.

Episode 2- Deadly Curiosity

Emerich and Racher stood like statues outside of the building and stared at it, as if they were in an art gallery studying an obscure painting. Several long moments passed as the two of them stood unmoving, silhouetted by the evening sun. It was finally Emerich who broke the silence by blurting out, "What the hell is she thinking?"

The two of them were staring at the front of a nightclub, one with the words Cat’s Cradle and the image of a cat reclining across the top blinding them from a bright, neon yellow sign. Racher merely shrugged. Perhaps she feels there is no risk in announcing herself so blatantly?

Yeah, well, I trust her feelings about as far as I can throw her.

That’s pretty far. His companion reminded him.

"Ok, then I trust them about as far as she can throw me. Emerich pulled the guitar case on his back into a more comfortable position and moved towards the entrance, gesturing for Racher to follow him. Come on, maybe it’s better that we’re here anyway."

Expecting trouble? Racher asked.

With her? Always.

Going inside, the two found themselves in a small foyer with a larger set of doors in front of them and a bouncer blocking their path. Hey there. Emerich said, drawing the larger man’s attention. We’re here to see Akisu. Mind letting us through?

The bouncer eyed them suspiciously. Not letting you through on your word alone. You two got any invites?

Emerich responded by reaching into his pocket and pulling out a pair of slightly-crumpled postcards. The bouncer looked them over and then waved them through. After they had passed through the doors and gotten out of earshot of the guard, Racher turned to his comrade. At least she's taking some security precautions.

Emerich laughed. "Yeah? And what’s he gonna do? I could probably bench-press that guy with one hand. Sure hope he’s not a garden-variety human or she really is asking for trouble."

The insides of the club were rather ostentatious, which didn't surprise Emerich in the least, given how well he knew its owner. A rainbow of bright colors covered the walls, spotlights dotted the ceiling next to colored drapes, and an open square of dance floor was positioned in the center of the room. Spreading out from the center were booths and tables, a bar at one end of the room, and several doors at the other that led to private rooms and balconies on the second floor that looked out onto the seating area. Cushions and carpets covered almost every surface, even the stools at the bar, and everything had a cat-shaped print or marking on it. What did surprise him was that the club itself was actually fairly quiet; only a few groups of people were scattered around, most of the lights were on, and there wasn’t any music. Huh. Place seems pretty mellow, considering who we’re talking about.

Two arms wrapped themselves around both of their necks as their owner laughed and tackled the two men from behind. That’s because it’s still early. Give ‘em some time, this place’ll be perrrrrrfect. The blonde Asian woman said, putting purposeful emphasis on the last word. She let her curled hair flow freely down her back, matched by the yellow sundress and sandals she wore.

Though Racher awkwardly struggled to maintain his balance, Emerich was hardly bothered by the rough manner in which she chose to greet them. Hey Tian. Can I ask you something?

She lightly smacked the back of his head and whispered, Remember 'Emerich', we're still in public.

Well, 'Akisu', I just thought that, considering your sign out front, you're fine with letting the whole damn world know who you are.

Walk and talk, dearest. Akisu said, pulling them along towards the private rooms. No sense in spending leisure time with friends if you’re not relaxing!

Uh-huh. But listen, are you, uh…expecting any uninvited guests tonight? Emerich added, keeping his voice down to avoid having eavesdroppers.

Oh, plenty! People are allowed to bring friends, after all, no sense in throwing a grand opening party if-

He cut her off. I mean ones who are looking to start trouble. Ones who don’t particularly like your family.

Akisu shot him a skeptical glance. My, Emerich, you almost sound like you’re implying something…

"Well, here’s how things look from my perspective: you Felidaes've got their share of enemies, all of you fancy nobles do. It’s not exactly a secret that you’ve been hanging out on Earth for quite some time, so if one of those enemies wanted to find you, wouldn't take them long to start looking around here. Then you go opening up a brand new, very Felidae-style nightclub, covering the city with ads and invites, and all of them have a rather familiar-looking yellow cat plastered all over them. You might as well have been jumping up and down on the roof, screaming ‘look everybody, here I am, please kill me!’ You nag me about keeping under the radar, and then you go and pull a stunt like this, I can’t help but think that-"

Much to his surprise, however, she simply laughed him off. Oh, such dramatics! I expect this kind of paranoia from Racher, but you? No offense, dear.

None taken. The hooded man replied.

You need to relax! I brought you two here to have some fun, don’t spoil things for me.

Emerich tried to press the issue, but they had reached Akisu’s private room, and she pushed the two of them inside. It contained a circular booth wrapped around a table, and another woman already sat at the far end, quietly reading and sipping her drink. Her tanned skin and long red hair were barely visible beneath layers of thick clothing, in stark contrast to the late summer weather outside; a turtle-necked sweater, wool cap, thick pants and boots. She brightened up when she noticed that Akisu had returned with company. Ah, hello you two!

Hey Shamira. Emerich greeted absentmindedly. How've you been holding up?

Quite well, quite well. The redhead replied, nodding. I’ve just been planning out the security for this place.

That made him a bit more optimistic. Oh, that’s good. The guy out front, where’s he on the scale? Lesser? Greater?

Shamira blinked at him and thought for a moment. Um, I think he said he was Russian? She didn’t notice the exasperation on Emerich’s face; well, it had made him optimistic…

Now, while you boys get comfortable, Akisu said, gesturing towards the booth, can I get you something to drink?

Beer, you know me. Anything local. Emerich answered as he plopped himself onto a seat.

Water. Racher added simply, eliciting a frown of disappointment from Akisu.

"Oh, come on now, dear, you're supposed to enjoy yourself!"

Emerich waved her down. Don't even bother, you know you won't get anywhere with him.

The blonde shot Racher a sly grin and innocently leaned her chest against his back; the hooded man's pale cheeks gained a hint of red. Perhaps I'm just not being persuasive enough...?

Emerich gave her a humorless look. Guy already gave you his answer. Thought you wanted to be a good hostess?

Fine, fine. She muttered as she left. Once she was out of earshot, Racher let out a sigh of relief.

Thank you for the save, my friend. He said as he