The Grendel Affair

I was used to shooting beer cans off the back of an old washing machine, or at things that ran away from me that I intended to eat—not things that ran toward me with the intent of eating me. I’d found that to be a significant difference.

Dragons didn’t fool around when it came to protecting things that they acquired—be it gold, gems, or a monster’s body parts.

The road that went around and between the buildings hadn’t been plowed, but Yasha didn’t let that slow him down. He grinned at me in the rearview mirror. “No problem. Is like Siberia.” “You’ve never been to Siberia,” Ian said, his eyes still scanning for any movement other than our own. “True. But does not mean is not like Siberia.

WE were on our way to Brooklyn to pick up an arm and see a man about a head.

I stand guard,” Yasha said. He got out of the SUV and pulled a sawed-off shotgun out from under his seat. “And keep our exit open,” Ian told him. Yasha grinned crookedly. “Don’t I always?” He looked at me and his grin broadened. “Scream if something jumps at you.” I tried for a grin; it felt more like a grimace. “Don’t I always?

This is the second murder scene I’ve walked in on in less than twenty-four hours,” I said. “Is that a company record?” “Is not even close,” Yasha told me. “Good.” “Though I think is record for newbie.” “Great. Glad to know I’m making a difference.” “And I know is first time SPI agent use tractor to catch killer.

So the owner of a monster head wants to meet on a path named Nut,” I said. “That’s appropriate.

Report any sightings as they happen.” “Will a girly scream work?” Rolf asked. “It’s always worked for you in the past,” a huge, blond-bearded commando shouted good-naturedly. “Why change now?

Ian stepped out to where he knew I could clearly see and identify his tall, dark, and dangerous self.

The second time, I had a freakin’ vampire at my back.” I froze. Oh shit. “No offense, Mr. Moreau,” I quickly added. “None taken, Agent Fraser. During the course of my lengthy life, I have been called many things, but ‘freakin’’ has never been one of them. I’ll consider it a novelty.

As I swallowed the last bite of my bagel, my fear gave way to anger. “And just what the hell did he mean by ‘my erratic behavior’?” Ian just looked at me. Yasha and Calvin stared straight ahead and didn’t say a word. I glared at all of them.

Exemplary work, Agent Fraser.” “Thank you, ma’am,” I managed to say. I gestured vaguely in the direction of wherever she’d been injured. “How are you?” “Passably well. Well enough to do whatever is needed. And yourself?” “Uh, good. I’m good.” She seemed to expect more. “And I’m ready to get this done,” I added with enthusiasm. Jeez, I sounded like such a dork. She gave me a sharp nod. “Commendable.[...]" [...] Ian lowered his voice. “I’m ready to get this done?” I cringed. “I know. You’ve got one more job as my partner.” “What’s that?” “Save me from myself.” “Spawn and doppelgangers I can do, but saving you from yourself is too tall an order for any man.

The guys were taking bets on the winner. Half were betting on the old woman.” Yasha nodded in agreement. “The babushka is a biter.” “Though nice style points there with the hat,” Calvin added. “We’ve never considered using hats as weapons. Maybe we should add it to our training.” “I’d break every bone in my hand if I punched you,” I said. “You realize that’s the only thing saving you, right?