stamped a foot. “Shoo! Go home!”
It snarled, but it didn’t attack. The thing turned somehow sideways—and vanished.
Raven didn’t waste time asking questions: another of the reasons we make such a good team. Ignoring Sinclair’s confused stammerings of thanks, the two of us raced off straight to ex–Mrs. Dexter’s apartment.
After all, I had told the creature to go home.
The doorman didn’t want to let us in, but he was too frightened of our MBI identities to resist. Ex–Mrs. Dexter really didn’t want to let us in, regardless of our IDs—or, rather, because of them—but she didn’t have much of a choice. We burst the lock with a well-placed gesture and all but forced our way in past her.
“The children,” I panted. “Where are they?”
Her eyes widened in horror. “Blaine’s with a school friend. Tiffany—oh my God,
Tiffany
!”
There was a roar of wind, then the shrill scream of a terrified child. Not a chance of beating a frightened mother racing to the defense of her daughter, but we came in a close second.
We found ourselves in a large, brightly colored room like a child’s dream, full of toys and plushy stuffed animals.
Larger than my whole apartment,
flashed through my mind, but there wasn’t time for nonsense. There, looking utterly impossible amid all the sweetness, was the monster, towering over Tiffany, who huddled in a corner.
“Mommy!” she wailed.
Only our quick grab of the woman’s arms kept her from rushing blindly to her daughter’s side.
Looked like we had been right—and yelling “Go home!” to the creature wasn’t going to work this time. It
was
home, at least as close to home as it could get in this dimension. And the monster was going to kill the one person who was holding it here.
Not if we had a say in the matter!
“Let go of me!” Mrs. Ex was shrieking.
“Mommy!” Tiffany was wailing.
“Got any ideas?” I whispered to Raven.
“Not a one. You?”
“No.”
“Damn. I really don’t feel like getting killed today.”
With that, Raven let go of Mrs. Ex and charged the monster, hitting it low, for all the world like a football player trying to stop the offense. He sent it stumbling sideways, away from Tiffany. Mrs. Ex charged in, snatched up her child, and raced back toward me. I gestured to her,
Get out of here!
The monster would follow, but at least we’d bought a little time.
Unfortunately, the monster hadn’t fallen. Recovering with superhuman reflexes, it whirled, catching Raven with a backhanded swing of a hand that sent him flying. My breath caught in my throat—but fortunately for Raven, there was enough carpeting and all those stuffed animals for him to land relatively softly. But he was clearly stunned.
My turn. I yelled inelegantly, “Hey, you monster!” to get it away from Raven, and hunted frantically for something I could use as a weapon. What, a doll, a stuffed rabbit, a beach ball—what was I supposed to do,
play
with the thing?
Whoa, maybe I could. A quick illusion spell brought the bunny to life, grown to monster size. A second gave the beach ball jet propulsion. It smashed into the monster, hurling the creature off its feet, and the bunny came after it, pummeling the monster.
More time bought. Letting go of the bunny and beach ball spells, I grabbed up the nearest lamp and brought it down on the monster’s head as hard as I could. Damn! The thing’s skull was like concrete! At least Raven was on his feet again, slamming the monster’s head with a second lamp.
No go. All we were doing was keeping the creature from regaining its feet. That was at least something, but it was cursed frustrating knowing that Raven and I had spells to stun or kill, yet the strongest of them would be useless against a thing that shed magic like water.
Or like us. With a roar, the monster was on its feet again, brushing us aside like two flies. And of course it was heading after Tiffany. I’d hoped Mrs. Ex would have the sense to leave
It snarled, but it didn’t attack. The thing turned somehow sideways—and vanished.
Raven didn’t waste time asking questions: another of the reasons we make such a good team. Ignoring Sinclair’s confused stammerings of thanks, the two of us raced off straight to ex–Mrs. Dexter’s apartment.
After all, I had told the creature to go home.
The doorman didn’t want to let us in, but he was too frightened of our MBI identities to resist. Ex–Mrs. Dexter really didn’t want to let us in, regardless of our IDs—or, rather, because of them—but she didn’t have much of a choice. We burst the lock with a well-placed gesture and all but forced our way in past her.
“The children,” I panted. “Where are they?”
Her eyes widened in horror. “Blaine’s with a school friend. Tiffany—oh my God,
Tiffany
!”
There was a roar of wind, then the shrill scream of a terrified child. Not a chance of beating a frightened mother racing to the defense of her daughter, but we came in a close second.
We found ourselves in a large, brightly colored room like a child’s dream, full of toys and plushy stuffed animals.
Larger than my whole apartment,
flashed through my mind, but there wasn’t time for nonsense. There, looking utterly impossible amid all the sweetness, was the monster, towering over Tiffany, who huddled in a corner.
“Mommy!” she wailed.
Only our quick grab of the woman’s arms kept her from rushing blindly to her daughter’s side.
Looked like we had been right—and yelling “Go home!” to the creature wasn’t going to work this time. It
was
home, at least as close to home as it could get in this dimension. And the monster was going to kill the one person who was holding it here.
Not if we had a say in the matter!
“Let go of me!” Mrs. Ex was shrieking.
“Mommy!” Tiffany was wailing.
“Got any ideas?” I whispered to Raven.
“Not a one. You?”
“No.”
“Damn. I really don’t feel like getting killed today.”
With that, Raven let go of Mrs. Ex and charged the monster, hitting it low, for all the world like a football player trying to stop the offense. He sent it stumbling sideways, away from Tiffany. Mrs. Ex charged in, snatched up her child, and raced back toward me. I gestured to her,
Get out of here!
The monster would follow, but at least we’d bought a little time.
Unfortunately, the monster hadn’t fallen. Recovering with superhuman reflexes, it whirled, catching Raven with a backhanded swing of a hand that sent him flying. My breath caught in my throat—but fortunately for Raven, there was enough carpeting and all those stuffed animals for him to land relatively softly. But he was clearly stunned.
My turn. I yelled inelegantly, “Hey, you monster!” to get it away from Raven, and hunted frantically for something I could use as a weapon. What, a doll, a stuffed rabbit, a beach ball—what was I supposed to do,
play
with the thing?
Whoa, maybe I could. A quick illusion spell brought the bunny to life, grown to monster size. A second gave the beach ball jet propulsion. It smashed into the monster, hurling the creature off its feet, and the bunny came after it, pummeling the monster.
More time bought. Letting go of the bunny and beach ball spells, I grabbed up the nearest lamp and brought it down on the monster’s head as hard as I could. Damn! The thing’s skull was like concrete! At least Raven was on his feet again, slamming the monster’s head with a second lamp.
No go. All we were doing was keeping the creature from regaining its feet. That was at least something, but it was cursed frustrating knowing that Raven and I had spells to stun or kill, yet the strongest of them would be useless against a thing that shed magic like water.
Or like us. With a roar, the monster was on its feet again, brushing us aside like two flies. And of course it was heading after Tiffany. I’d hoped Mrs. Ex would have the sense to leave
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