Home for Horny Monsters Ch. 101

"Just...give it clothes, or whatever it takes to make it go away." Ingrid lowered her wand, but kept a tight grip.

Tink growled at Ingrid, then gave her the finger. "Stupid girl never know when room need cleaning, maybe goblin stick around forever."

"Ugh." Ingrid lowered her voice. "She even sounds stupid."

Tink drew the hammer from behind her back, but Mike snagged it before she could throw it. He gave her a stern look, and she crossed her arms and looked away from him.

"Unless there's a good reason I cannot have my own cleaning staff, I would like her to continue her job." He set the hammer handle up on the counter and turned toward Ingrid. "Besides, who is in my suite isn't important. Right?"

Ingrid stared at him silently for several long moments, her eyes flicking back and forth between him and Tink. The silence was broken when Ratu and Quetzalli exited the elevator and came down the hallway.

"Excuse us," Quetzalli said, pushing past Wallace into the room. "We need to change into better clothes for hiking."

"And we might be a while, seeing how us lovely ladies need time to get ready." Ratu looked down her nose at both Ingrid and Wallace, then walked into the suite to go to her room.

"Yeah, that guy seems like a complete ass," said Wallace, who noticed the look of surprise on Mike's face. "And yes, I'm aware that coming from me, that's saying something. We know almost nothing about him and he gives me the creeps."

Ingrid looked at her partner, then to Mike. "The merfolk have never spoken a word to us about this man. Intel hit a match with the name, but the last guy who used it died 250 years ago."

"Can humans live that long?" Mike asked.

Ingrid shrugged. "It's extremely rare, but we've seen it. However, we've yet to run across a human that old who isn't a complete bastard. It's almost like that second century breeds contempt for your fellow man." She looked past him down at Tink and let out a sigh. "How long does she stay summoned?"

"If you're asking if there's a limit to how long she's here, no, not really. And since Lily was going to stick around anyway, I was going to have the goblin keep the place clean so your people don't have to deal with Lily and her mess. It's clear she's causing problems, so the plan was to have her stay in the room."

The mage chewed at her lip for a moment, clearly unable to formulate an argument as to why the Order needed to be in the room. Though Mike still didn't know what sort of threat the Captain would pose, at least this battle over the room was something they had figured out how to handle.

"Really, Beth will probably be back and forth up here as well." Wallace leaned against the frame of the door. "Since the merfolk decided to keep her on the property. Our people have plenty of other things they could be working on."

Ingrid sighed. "It's fine," she said, a defeated look on her face. "We leave at the top of the hour. Please meet us down at the dock."

"Will do." Mike gave her a mock salute and shut the door behind them after they left. When he turned around, he saw Ratu run out of her bedroom and straight into his.

"I need to get something," she called over her shoulder. "No time to explain."

She closed the door behind her, leaving Mike alone with Tink. She smiled up at him, wiggling her butt back and forth like an excited puppy.

"Tink do great job!" she declared, then scowled at the hallway door. "Bite stupid bitch who call Tink an ogre."

"That's because Tink is the best wife." He bent down to kiss her forehead. "Now I want to know where you got the maid outfit on short notice."

"It was supposed to be a surprise." Kisa stood up from behind the couch. She was in a maid's outfit as well. "But if you all are leaving at the top of the hour, the surprise will have to wait."

"Damn," Mike muttered, contemplating the catgirl and the goblin. While they could probably make something happen, it would be rushed and he wanted to savor whatever scenario Tink and Kisa had come up with.

"By the way. You aren't actually expecting us to clean this place, are you?" Kisa put hands on her hips, her tail flicking back and forth.

"No, no, of course not." A wicked grin crossed his face. "But maybe if I need some turndown service, I'll--"

Tink pinched his ass so hard he jumped. She walked backward toward his room with a smirk on her face as he followed. "Husband know who to call. We go now, Tink's turn to watch Baby Legs."

He watched them both slide under his bed and vanish. With a little sigh, he moved toward the closet where his hiking gear was stashed. Today was gonna be long, and he needed to be ready for anything.

"I'm telling you, that fucking doll is following me!"

Cyrus raised an eyebrow dramatically and turned in slow motion to look at the nearest window of the Radley home. For perhaps the fifth time today, he found himself looking at a normal window, bereft of decor other than some light curtains.

"I still don't see anything," he said to a very frustrated Bradford, perfectly aware that somebody in the house was messing with the knight. Cyrus had met Jenny the doll on a few occasions, though it was usually at a distance. There had been a couple of times Mike had brought the possessed doll to tea and she sat in his lap, but Mike had assured him they would all be perfectly safe as long as Cyrus didn't make direct eye contact. He had thought Mike had been kidding, but there was something about those porcelain features that gave him the heebie jeebies.

He didn't know if the doll was just messing with the man or if he had done something to piss her off. Either way, the doll was the least of their worries right now. The last twenty-four hours had been a disaster. After tea with Mike the other evening, he thought things would be quiet for a while. That had been wishful thinking. The very next morning, he discovered that Laurel had gotten up before him and led the field team to do some preliminary work under her guidance. She was clearly trying to establish herself as second in command, and he noticed that a few people on the field team were already deferring to her.

This put him in a difficult position. Ordinarily, he wouldn't worry about it. He was meticulous in his work and didn't really care what others thought. However, he was purposefully doing a bad job meant to look like a good one, and he knew Laurel was going to start producing results. When he had said as much to Death, the Reaper had simply chuckled and wandered off.

An hour later, a member of the field team reported strange lights and then disappeared in the hedge maze for half the day, despite his team searching through it numerous times. By the time he showed up again, he claimed he had only been missing for a few minutes, and had no recollection of anything else. When Laurel had confronted Death over the matter, he had simply shrugged and declared maybe the man had stopped to smell the roses.

The groundskeeping staff kept creating projects wherever his people were investigating, and they were starting to rightfully suspect that something was up. Mads had taken to following Cyrus around, claiming it was for his own protection. More than anything else, Cyrus worried that Laurel and Mads had figured out he was up to something.

Cyrus pulled a couple antacid chewables from his pocket and popped them into his mouth. At the rate he was going through them, he was going to have to buy more tonight. Everything tasted like chalk lately.

"There! She's right there!" Bradford pointed at a different window.

This time, Cyrus saw Jenny in the corner, staring down at the two of them. For just a moment, he heard a woman's laugh in the back of his mind.

"I still don't see anything." Cyrus patted Bradford's shoulder. "Why don't you go take a break? This place, it's different from what we're used to."

"We'll see how different it is once we crack it open." Bradford stormed off around the house, stopping long enough to slice the top off of a small shrub with his sword. Cyrus watched him until he was gone, then looked back at the window.

The doll was gone.

"He seems fragile." Death startled Cyrus, causing his heart rate to skyrocket. He clutched at his chest dramatically, spinning to confront the Reaper.

"Don't do that, you're gonna give me a heart attack!"

"Nonsense. I would know if you were at my door." Death chuckled and looked at the window. "Jenny likes him. Said he's... he's..." He scratched the back of his skull with bony fingers, then snapped them. "Delectable!"

"Are you sure that's the word she used?" Cyrus moved away from the house and toward a small picnic table that had been set up near the greenhouse. He groaned when he sat, his knees and back protesting. Retirement had softened him more than he'd realized, and the long day of pretending to study the house was already wearing on him.

"It was. When I asked her for clarification, she said his fear was delicious."

Cyrus shivered, grateful that the doll knew he was on her side. "I'm surprised he's all worked up, honestly. She's just playing peekaboo with him, right?"

"The scariest things are the ones we build up inside our mind. Perhaps he fears the unknown or maybe he worries that his mental faculties are failing him. For most people, it's far more important to be believed than anything else. Being unable to trust your own senses is no different than being lost in the dark."

"That's fairly insightful."

Death sat across from Cyrus and steepled his hands together. "I represent the great unknown, the darkness from which there is no return. Surely I've learned a thing or two here."

"You've learned plenty during your time at the house, don't sell yourself short. I assume we won't be having tea tonight?"

"You are correct. Perhaps tomorrow night I will have time." Death was referring indirectly to Mike's ability to drop by and check in personally. "Is there anything we need to discuss?"

Cyrus looked around to make sure none of his team were nearby. "The mage Laurel is my number one concern right now. If something happened to me, her approach to examining your home would be far more...aggressive."

"I see." Death pulled out his phone and started tapping on the screen. "I will let Jenny know."

"The doll has a phone?"

"We're on a family plan. She mostly uses it for scaring people on the internet. Mike Radley did have to disable her ability to call outside the family, though. She got in trouble for calling strangers in the middle of the night."

"Yeah, I can see why that would cause problems." He watched the house for a bit longer, then excused himself to check in with the rest of the team. Toward the front of the house, Laurel was busy taking a statement from Bradford, scribbling onto a small notepad with a pencil.

"Did something happen?" he asked.

"You may not be taking this investigation seriously, but I am." Laurel gave him a withering glare, one that was matched by Bradford. "I firmly believe Bradford has encountered a paranormal entity."

"Yes, and?" Cyrus waved at the house. "We're expecting the paranormal, remember? It's kind of like a zoo for one, actually."

"But a denizen of the house is making contact with him. Maybe it wishes to talk? What if it wants out?" She jabbed her pencil in his direction. "I feel that this is worth pursuing, even if you don't. Mads?"

"Hmm?" Her knight had been staring at the windows.

"Spirit board and spirit box." She scowled at Cyrus. "Unless you have a problem with that?"

"Not at all," he replied.

Ouija boards had been around forever, but the spirit box was relatively new technology the Order had invented that had been leaked to the public. While it could be used to allow the living to commune directly with spirits, it was often misused for the purpose of amateur ghost hunting. "But to play devil's advocate, what if the spirit is hostile? What if it doesn't want you around?"

"Then we shall treat it as a hostile entity." Laurel's features twisted. "Master Cyrus, have you spoken with the Director today?"

Cyrus shook his head. "Last we spoke, I was given the impression that he only wanted to hear from me should we have something meaningful to give him. Lacking any discovery of merit, I have not checked in."

"Well, I called the Director first thing this morning. The Caretaker should be near or at his property in Hawai'i already. If our timeline is correct, we only have the next two or three days to make progress. We aren't going to make it through traditional methods. We have twenty-four hours to give the Director reason to believe that our mission here will be successful."

"Or?" Cyrus held out his arms in a massive shrug. "What happens if we don't?"

She narrowed her eyes. "Preparations are already being made."

Cyrus didn't like the sound of that, but kept his face neutral. Instead, he bowed his head in her direction. "Perhaps I should check in with him."

"You can try, but it may be difficult. He's currently monitoring the situation in Maui personally. I wanted to make sure that I fully understood what he expected from our mission here." Her smug grin was made more alarming by the glint in her eyes. He had been right to worry about Laurel. It wasn't just that she was clever, or good at her job. She was motivated, and eager to chase success.

"I see." He scratched the back of his head and sighed. "I've been out of the game too long. But you all knew that before you even got here. I just want you to know that I appreciate the energy you are putting into this. I... I feel like a man out of time, Sister Laurel. Three years ago, you and I would be fighting to see who could accomplish more here, and I'll admit that I've lost that edge."

The light of triumph shone in Laurel's eyes as she nodded her agreement.

"But," he said with a finger held up. "I still have knowledge and experience that we should utilize as a team. So while you may be the cutting edge we need, I ask that you let me be the steady hand that guides you. The Director is our superior but, as you said, his full attention is on a different aspect of this project. I would hate for him to make false assumptions."

The mage contemplated his words for several moments, then crossed her arms. "Of course, Master Cyrus. I didn't mean to overstep my station."

He knew it was a bullshit apology and she would do it again in a heartbeat. That didn't matter to him, though. For now, Laurel would give him just enough rope to hang himself in the eyes of the Director. His admission would be used to demote him, but that was fine. As long as nobody suspected his true intentions, he could still stall whatever the Order had put into motion.

A lot of his future plans hinged on Laurel's comments about those extra preparations. He spent a couple of minutes discussing next moves with Laurel, including some extra advice on precautions for the spirit box, then excused himself to check in with the Director. When he called, he got an underling who explained that the Director had gone dark to monitor the Hana excursion in real time, which meant Cyrus wouldn't get answers anytime soon. Disgruntled, he paced the front yard, doing his best to appear busy while pondering his next move.

Based on older protocols, he couldn't be sure what the Order would attempt. Knowing what he did about the house, it wasn't like they could just call in more mages. If they were going to attempt an assault on the house, they would have to find a different method, and he didn't know what that would be. His best guess would be some sort of long distance assault, but he assumed the protective magic was capable of defending from such an attempt.

"Ye look lost, lad." Cyrus was pulled from his ruminations by one of the gardeners he recognized, a man in dark leather who patrolled the rose bushes almost exclusively. "Seems ye've got a load on yer mind."

"Indeed I do." Cyrus saw that the man was snipping the heads off of roses and tossing them into a bucket. "Is there something wrong with those ones?" he asked.

"Aye." The gardener snipped another rose free. "The plant can only make so many. Once the flower has bloomed, it's served its purpose. I cut it away so that the bush can make more." He held the rose out for Cyrus. "But we can appreciate 'em all the same. Struck down at the height of beauty for us to enjoy."

"I see." Cyrus waved a hand dismissively. "Sorry to bother you."

"I don' think ye actually be seeing what I mean. Perhaps ye should consider stopping and smelling the roses proper?" The gardener held out the rose again. "Go on, take it."

Puzzled, Cyrus accepted the flower, but hid his surprise when he felt something else pushed into the palm of his hand. Out of the corner of his vision, he noticed that one of the knights was watching the interaction. He sniffed at the flower and let out a sigh.

"And did ye learn anything?" asked the gardener.

"No." Cyrus handed the flower back, keeping the item tucked safely in his palm. "I've never been good at flower analogies."

"Aye." The gardener picked up his bucket. "Well I hope ye figure out yer problem soon enough. When something bothers me, my favorite place to sit is the gazebo. Nice and quiet, it has a great view."

"Uh huh, thanks." Cyrus nodded and walked away, making brief eye contact with the nearby knight. There was a questioning look in the man's eyes, but Cyrus just spiraled a finger by his ear, conveying that the gardener was just a chatty loon. He wandered the grounds for a couple more minutes before strolling up to the gazebo, the item still tucked firmly in his hand. It wasn't until he sat down at the table inside the gazebo that he dared chance a peek at the thing.

It was an earbud, colored to match his own skin. He feigned scratching at his ear and slid it into place. Almost immediately, a voice spoke to him.

"Took you long enough."

Cyrus held back a grin, immediately recognizing the Rat Queen. That meant that Eulalie was somewhere nearby, perhaps even watching him.

"This is far better than a hood," he muttered, hoping the earpiece could pick up his voice.

"Yeah, well, I don't have enough hoods for everyone and didn't want your friends to get jealous." Eulalie chuckled on the other end. "Been awhile since we've spoken."

In fact, he hadn't talked to her since the angel incident. He had often asked about her, but Mike always waved the question off as unimportant. "To what do I owe the honor?"

"I've had to stare at the bald spot forming on top of your head for the last day or so." Eulalie chuckled as Cyrus looked up, only to realize he was inside the gazebo and was staring at the roof. "We've been using drones, Cyrus."

"How did you get drones to work?" He scratched at his beard. "If you take them outside the protective boundary, they won't actually show you anything of value." Well, that wasn't necessarily true. The geas didn't care about him or his bald spot, so a drone would pick him up no problem.

"I'm allowed inside the house. Aerial footage will show me all the details of whatever I want to see. It doesn't hurt that I have access to the best drones a shadow government can buy." Cyrus smiled at Eulalie's smug tone. Though he didn't know what she looked like, it was easy to hear that she was quite pleased with herself. "Speaking of shadow governments, let's talk about yours."

"Not technically a government," he replied. "Though the comparison is apt."

"I recently had the good fortune of gaining access to the Order's financials. Well, the accounts I had missed the first time, anyway. You guys pretty much invented shell corporations, and I imagine you have a team dedicated to juggling all that damned money."

"Wait, you're in our bank accounts?" His eyes bugged out of his head.

"Not quite. Don't worry, old timer, your pension is safe from me." He could almost hear her think 'for now'. The Order's financial assets were spread across the globe, capable of making big purchases in pretty much any country. There were actual vaults stacked high with precious metals and cash just in case they needed something fast.