Holly listened for a moment as Mosh's fingers flew back and forth. "Damn, he's really good."
"Some say the best in the world. We are a talented family."
"His talent's cooler though."
I shook my head. "Fine, don't come crying to me when you need help with your taxes next year."
Mosh saw us standing in the doorway, stopped playing mid-lyric, dropped the guitar, jumped up, and started toward me. The orcish contingent immediately began to boo loudly. He ignored them and focused in on me with an unnerving intensity. He must have picked that up from Dad. "There you are. We need to talk. Have you seen the news?"
"Been too busy."
"The official story is that I caused all the crazy stuff at Buzzard Island! Out-of-control special effects and lame-ass shit like that. When can I get out of here?"
"Dude, chill. I'm working on it." I raised my hand defensively. "I'm taking care of this as fast as I can."
"Not fast enough. Mom keeps trying to talk to me. I don't have any of my stuff. We've already had to cancel some shows, and if I don't get out of here soon, we're going to have to screw the whole tour. You know how pissed the fans are going to be when I have to refund ten sold-out concerts? I've got bills to pay."
"Aw man, you might have to sell that Ferrari you just bought," I said.
Mosh snorted as if I had just given him a grave insult. "It was an Aston Martin."
"Whatever. Look, it just isn't safe yet. You go out in public, and you might as well strap a big target to your forehead."
"I can get security."
"Now you're being stupid. Bodyguards aren't up to this gig."
Sam raised his hand. "Hey, if I can butt in, I know a little company that can pull security…" Mosh and I both scowled at him. "Oh, fine. Just trying to scare up some business. Alrighty then, I'll be waiting downstairs when you drama queens are done having your slap fight." He spun on his boot and left. Trip looked uncomfortable. Holly appeared to be enjoying the show.
Mosh moved in closer and poked me in the chest. I was certain he remembered just how much that bugged me. "Listen, people are already starting to talk. The fan sites are saying that I had to check into rehab. And one of those government guys was on the news saying that the big explosion was because I personally wrecked the tour bus into that gas tanker. He didn't come out and say it, but he was trying to make it sound like I was totally wasted or something. It was the one who looks like an English teacher, the dirty, rotten, lying, sack of shit."
"Oh, you mean Agent Myers. Yeah, that's what he does for a living. He makes monster attacks go away." I steered his hand away from me. "Look, I feel your pain, and I'm sure this will all make a great episode of Behind the Music someday, but in the meantime, you're stuck."
"I should so kick your ass." Mosh was ticked. "Am I supposed to be a prisoner here or something?"
"No, feel free to walk out that front gate and let me know what kind of monster manages to eat your brain first. See if I care."
"Damn it!" he shouted. "This is really screwing up my career."
"You think a bunch of fanatics and their squid god give a crap about your career? Quit being such a baby."
Holly stepped gently between us. "Okay, guys, calm down. Yes, this is all Z's fault." She gave me a look, indicating that I had just better shut it. "And I'm sure he’s really sorry. But we're resolving this situation as quickly as possible."
Mosh stepped back, still huffy. He turned his attention to Holly for the first time. "And who are you?"
She stuck out her hand. "Holly Newcastle. Monster Hunter. I'm on your brother's team."
It was almost as if I could see the mental shifting of gears. Mosh went from Angry Important Guy to Player mode. He took her hand, and wasn't very discreet as he checked her out. And Holly was a very attractive woman. "Well, nice to meet you, Holly. I'm Mosh Pitt, international superstar." He was such a cheese ball.
Oh, barf. I waited for Holly to throat-punch him.
She giggled. Tough as nails, killer of monsters, Holly Newcastle actually giggled. Like a…girl, or something. Trip and I looked at each other in confusion.
"You know, Mosh, I'm sure you've got a lot of questions that just haven't been answered. And your brother's been too busy to help you, so I can totally understand your frustration. I'd be glad to take the time to explain everything."
He nodded. "Yeah, there's been a lot going down. Maybe we could talk about this…over some lunch."
Oh my gosh. Holly was flirting with my brother. "Sure, that's a great idea. We're not exactly equipped for fine dining, but I could probably whip up a little something…Z, Trip, why don't you guys go talk to Earl. I'll catch up." She took Mosh by the arm. "Right this way."
Mosh winked at me. "Maybe this place doesn't totally suck."
They left for the kitchen. The female Newbies looked offended and the orcs were fighting over who got to keep the guitar that Great War Chief had actually used.
"What just happened?" Trip asked.
"Hell if I know. Either Holly's covering for us, or she's actually attracted to goofy-ass, bald men, with lots of tattoos and really stupid pointy goatees…My money's on getting him out of the way for me. I owe her one."
Trip folded his arms. "Well…I don't like it."
He actually sounded…jealous? Naw, that was absurd. "Come on, man. We've got to take care of business."
Earl leaned back in his chair and lit his fourth cigarette since I had begun my story. It was a good thing his tissues regenerated supernaturally or he surely would have died of lung cancer eons ago. He put his bare feet on the table and pondered on what I had said.
"I just can't believe it…" He shook his head. "All these years…"
Trip and I had found Sam and Earl in the basement office outside of Earl's prison cell. This was the place in which he usually cleaned up and calmed down after a werewolf stint. It was more of a bunker than an office, with some thrift-store furniture, a shower, and a door that looked like it had come from a bank vault. I knew behind that vault door was an even plainer room, with a tiny drain hole in the middle, and hundreds of thousands of scratches etched into the concrete. Sam was sitting off to the side. "All these years you've been beating yourself up about killing the little punk and it turns out he deserved it anyway."
My asthma was tearing me apart. There weren't any windows in the basement, and the air was thick with secondhand smoke. "Except it wasn't even him you killed."
Sam leaned forward. "So let me get this straight. Hood swapped bodies with some other dude, and it was that dude, in Hood's old body, getting mind controlled or something, that opened Earl's door?" I nodded. Sam paused to spit his chew in a Styrofoam cup. I was surrounded by nicotine addicts. "Man, that's some messed-up shit, right there."
Earl talked to the ceiling. "Why didn't you tell me, Carlos? We could have figured this out together."
"I'm sorry about your friend," Trip said.
"He was like a brother," my boss said simply. He lowered his head and faced us. I was glad that the anger in that look wasn't directed at me. "Marty Hood…It sounds stupid, but the more I think about it, the more it fits. He was always into that stuff. Him and Ray were always poking around the archives. Trying to understand monsters. You don't understand them…you understand how they think enough to track them down and destroy them. There's a big difference."
"So the necromancer was a Hunter. He knows our capabilities. Did Hood know about the compound's ward stone?"