Monsters of Pittsburgh: Omnibus Edition

Monsters of Pittsburgh:

Omnibus Edition

Kate Whitaker

Copyright © 2014 Crimson Heart Publications

Images used under license from Shutterstock.com

Smashwords Edition License Notes

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 you’re 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.

Acknowledgments

No story is written in a vacuum, and lots of fingers were in this pie. Yes, I am aware I just mixed a metaphor, but it’s an apt mixing.

First and foremost are my Girls and Pocket Watchers. You were always willing to talk, read, and give encouragement. I cannot thank yinz enough.

Up next has to be the Fight Clubbers. Jen’s rifle thanks you more than I do!

And finally are my regulars, Jenne, Susan, Miss D, and the newest one, Annie.

Without your unfailing support (and sharp eyes!) these stories would not have been ready on the schedule I set down.

All of you kept me sane over the long haul. My family thanks you even more!

Table of Contents

Acknowledgments

Succubus

Sheepsquatch

Talasam

Wendigo

Humans

Brownie

Werewolves

Thank You for Reading

— Gina, it really did take a succubus to get this off the ground

Most demon hunters were morning drinkers. Alcohol washed away the terrors after a night of killing monsters. At ten o’clock on a Friday night, Rita’s bar should have been empty. Instead, the glossy, wooden chairs were filled with people who had nearly as many scars as Sam himself.

He should have been out with his werewolf, Mina, and her brother, killing reavers to keep the population down. Instead he was here, on a wild goose chase.

He ran a finger over two of the scars that crisscrossed his right cheek as he considered the crowd. The usuals were sprinkled among people he’d never seen before. He thought about pushing over to Mina’s friends to get the skinny, but the full bar was a minor mystery tonight. Something bigger had him here.

That silver-haired something tended bar, as usual. Rita’s green eyes locked on him as he made his way through the chattering mass of people.

She handed him a bottle of Mina’s favorite local brew. Hullo, ya surly cuss.

Sam stared at the cream label of the beer for a moment. The brown handlebar mustache and snarky slogans didn’t make him smile for once.

Why hand me Mina’s favorite beer?

His werewolf hadn’t been here in weeks, and neither had he. He looked back at Rita. The phone call asking him to come down for a drink had sounded so casual, so familiar. If he didn’t know better, he would have thought they were friends.

Something bad is brewing.

Rita gestured to her nephew, the bouncer. The big man heaved a huge sigh but he nodded. He signaled to someone further away in the bar. Sam’s patience stretched thin.

A microphone hummed to life and a dark-haired young woman sat down with a guitar. She crossed her legs, settling the instrument on her lap and silence descended over the bar.

Once the girl began to sing, Sam understood the reverence around him. Her voice was dark and raspy. It hugged walls and seeped across the bar.

Goddamn ya, Sam. Dont’cha know a dahversin when ya hear one?

It nearly caused him physical pain to tune out the singer’s voice and focus on the bartender. "What kind of creature is she?"

Human.

Sam gaped at her. You sure?

Pretty sure. She’s m’granddaughter. She gestured for him to follow as she headed towards the back rooms.

Caution rumbled in his gut. Sam couldn’t shake the fact that Rita had once sold him and the three young people he’d adopted to a bounty hunter. True, she’d believed the lies about werewolves, and they had all benefited from it in the end. That didn’t matter to Sam. He could not bring himself to like, let alone trust, Rita.

She stopped before the kitchen and the big storeroom. Her fingers pressed into the wall. A section of it slid aside, and Rita darted into the opening.

Sam put a hand on his taser as he followed her. Only a swinging bare bulb illuminated the glorified broom closet. And the farthest dark corner held the last person Sam expected.

The man slouched against the wall inside several layers of over-sized shirts. His jeans were baggy and stained where they weren’t ripped, showing a pair of filthy sweatpants underneath. A dark, scraggy beard, with bits of food tangled in the curls, obscured the exact shape of his face. His dirt-streaked skin left it unclear if he was dark or fair, young or old.

Sam knew the look was more or less a lie. The slouch and the clothes disguised a tall, lean man of thirty-two or so, all muscle and sinew. They also hid an arsenal of throwing knives and small axes. The dirt and scruff obscured a pale face that was all angles and planes.

The food in his beard was real. Mina had taken scissors to it one night when he’d forgotten to clean it properly after dinner.

Sam pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and tossed it to the Trojan. You fucking call her, right now.

The bounty hunter threw the phone back like it burned.

Sam’s hand curled into a fist.

The Trojan laughed, took a step forward, and put out his hands. Hit me. Please. We’d all feel better.

He gets a free shot and I don’t? Rita crossed her arms over her breasts. I got him here, now give him this damned message and get the hell outta my bar, ya jagoff.

The Trojan turned and rifled through his backpack on the floor. An accordion binder, barely held shut by its red string, was thrust at Sam. It’s for Matty. I have orders to give it to him directly, but I doubt he’d take it from me. Or let me leave without ripping out my throat. You’re the next best thing.

Sam hefted the binder. Matty hated the Trojan. Only his love for his sister had kept the worst of Matty’s verbal poison back. A subtle throbbing strummed in Sam’s temple. What the hell is going on?

The Trojan settled back into his corner with a long-suffering sigh. I don’t know much. And what I do know, I shouldn’t have been told. But our little brawl in the woods last October set off a firestorm. All around the world, the elders of every Tribe, family, and den are discussing werewolf rights.

There’s something to discuss? The words rasped past Sam’s throat.

How many times do we need to fight these bastards?

The Trojan’s lips quirked up for a moment, but his smile was far from amused. For them, there’s a whole lot of discussion.

Understanding came in a flash. An entire society had enslaved their sons and daughters for untold generations, based on the genetic twist of fate that let them turn into wolves. There would be much to discuss and people wouldn’t be taking the time to think before they started the debates.

The loudest talkers have stopped talking, rather suddenly, in some cases. The Trojan met Sam’s gaze, and his dark eyes were full of anger. Those talkers mentioned Mina and Matty, a lot.

Wonderful. Sam closed his eyes for a moment, and a memory that wasn’t his surfaced. Three young kids, one fair and tall for a werewolf, the other two olive-skinned, black-haired, and enough alike to be twins. They were all bruised and bloody. Punishment for trying to sneak out to go sledding.

Sam forced the memory away, swallowed the bile in his throat, and opened his eyes. He knew the pain and degradation werewolves suffered first hand, thanks to magic forcing memories into his brain. More than anything, he hated the fact that Speakers like himself had used their gift to control werewolves, instead of helping them. That Matty and Mina had chosen to work with Speakers at all was humbling to no end. What’s this all about?

The other man rubbed his eyes. Wish I knew, Sam. My orders were to deliver, not investigate.

Orders? Sam hefted the file. Whose orders?

The Trojan shrugged.

Rita stepped forward. You tell the old man I ain’t a messenger service.

The bounty hunter’s eyes narrowed. This is bigger than your issues with the old man and the organization.

Sam’s knees quaked and he fought down the urge to phone the people he called family. They’d be safe enough until he got back. Mina and her brother patrolled the neighborhood every night. Rick and Dean were at the house, too. Between the four of them, any threat would be pulverized. Are you coming back with me?

The Trojan looked at the floor. No.

Rita snorted. Why the hell not?

Because it’s over. He leaned back into his corner.

Sam debated whether the offer of one free hit was still open. Hell of a decision you’re making for Mina.

The Trojan’s dark eyes hardened into black diamonds. "I didn’t make that decision for her. I made it for me."

All Sam’s anger left in a rush of breath. You’re a damn fool.

Probably. The man shrugged. Get that file to Matty. He’s the best person I can think of to stop this crazy. The Trojan paused. Is she- how is she doing?

Call her and find out for yourself.

The bounty hunter snorted a laugh.

How’s Sonja? Sam stomach flipped as the slight humor drained off the Trojan’s face.

She’s… alive.

Sam fought for patience. He wanted answers about the Trojan’s hunting partner, not a screaming match. When’s she coming home? And why did she stop answering her phone?

Red will tell you, if and when she ever feels like it.

He glared across the dim space. Three months ago you were like a son-

Three months ago, I thought I could be a different person. The Trojan deflated and it wasn’t the dirt caked onto his skin that made him look old. But Red and I are what we are, Sam. We’re never going to stay in one place. Especially when the demon that killed our families pops up. But Mina can’t leave this city, and Rick won’t walk away from Matty. So, that’s the end of it. When I’m dead in a ditch somewhere, she’ll have long gotten over me, and I’m the fool who forgot that’s the best I’m ever gonna get.

Sam wasn’t sure what was about to come out of his mouth, but he opened it nonetheless.

The younger man kept right on talking. If you have to tell the rest of them you saw me, tell Mina I’m not coming back, and tell Rick that Red isn’t either.

Disappointment settled over him like a shroud. Matty was right about you.

Matty’s smart and I’m an asshole. What did you expect? But get him that file, anyway.

He’ll want to know where it came from.

Rita yanked on the end of her braid. Please Sam. Just tell him you got it from the demon hunters, and don’t ever back track. I’ll do the same. She leveled a finger at the Trojan. "You ain’t welcome here, ya got that? Tell the old man that, too."

Getting that file to Matty shaved a year off my sentence. The Trojan’s statement mystified Sam.

Rita seemed to understand though. Good. The sooner yer gone back, the better, n’at.

I couldn’t agree more. The Trojan grabbed his bag off the floor and hurried out the door.

Sam followed Rita to the hallway. There was no sign of the Trojan. Rita swore, but Sam wasn’t surprised. There were lots of rumors about ‘the man with no name.’ Sam had yet to hear one that turned out to be false. He could kill a room full of vampires without a scratch, and he was faster and stronger than normal people.

Sam hefted the file as he thought about what to say when he got home. Who’s this ‘old man?’

Rita leveled her green laser gaze on him. If you have t’ask the question, I can’t answer it.

That’s fucking convenient.

Rita smiled. Sam, a year ago I thought werewolves was a myth, and had no idea people could control them with their voice. Today, you get a hint that there’s something supernatural beyond yer ken. Ain’t it wonderful that we’re still learning at our age?

Great. Sam headed back to the bar and the singing girl. The world’s even more dangerous than I thought.

***

Warm lips nibbled on Matty’s ear as he read the police blotter from the night before. He leaned back to enjoy the warmth from Dean, and stretched out his legs on the bed. The basement air held a chill this early in the spring.

Calloused brown hands slipped under his shirt, tickling his ribs. Matty squirmed away with a laugh. You make it very hard to track cases.

Dean nuzzled his neck, and the neatly trimmed goatee raised goosebumps. I’m certainly trying my best. You get a surprise night off and want to spend it reading news stories. We could go out to dinner or something.

Matty laughed away his instinctive fear of leaving the house, turning until he could look Dean in the eye. Hazards of dating a werewolf, I’m afraid. I spent my formative years tracking demons for my sister and I to kill.

The love of his life smiled, revealing very white teeth behind those full lips. It’s not a bad habit to be in, I guess. At least you aren’t holed up in the gym with the other two.

Matty snickered. You’d think the hours they practiced this morning would be enough, but they’ll be in there until well after midnight, it being a weekend and all.

You think they’ll end up together?

Oh, hell no. Matty shook his head. "I’m still not sure how they ended up as friends. A year ago, Mina wanted Rick dead, literally dead."

Dean’s eyebrows rose. What did he do?

Pissed her off.

Could you be a little more specific? This is Mina we’re talking about.

Matty pushed down his paranoia, and gripped his laptop to keep his hands from shaking. She had issues about working with Speakers again.

I can only imagine.

He rolled his eyes. You can’t. Hostile doesn’t do her justice, but it’s the closest thing I’ve got. Anyway, days of that attitude aimed at Rick and when she mistook him for a vampire, his old Speaker instincts kicked in.

The warmth from Dean’s hands seeped through the knees of Matty’s jeans. What happened?

He used the Voice to make her sit at heel.

There was a long pause before Dean shook his head.

Yeah, he screwed up, but she forgave him… eventually. Matty’s hand spasmed. The memory of his knuckles smashing into Rick’s face was painful in more ways than one. He wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for Rick. We’re all one big happy family now. He grinned and stretched out his legs. So, if you don’t want to let me concentrate, what do you want to do?

Dean leaned forward and gripped Matty’s hips. Want to go to my place?

Fear shuddered down Matty’s spine, stronger than before.

If I do, you’re going to see how fucked up I really am.

Guilt clenched his stomach. He leaned in and ran his lips along Dean’s throat as he pushed his laptop on the night stand.

Matty… Dean sighed out his name. They are like ten feet away.

Matty grabbed the small remote off its velcro on the wall beside his bed. Ear splitting techno blared in the tiny concrete block room. He pounced on Dean with a grin.

***

Mina circled Rick. Their reflection in the mirrors made her think of the usual David and Goliath, night and day comparison. Mina was no taller than her brother. Their heads didn’t clear Rick’s shoulder. She was just as slim as her brother, too.

Rick stood well over six feet, and as a Speaker, he had trained to fight all his life. Stripped down to his loose gym pants, the sculpted bulk was impressive.

It wasn’t just her werewolf’s build versus the hulk that was Rick. His ash blonde spikes and peaches-and-cream complexion contrasted with the blue-black hair and olive skin she also shared with her brother.

She missed a step as loud music boomed from her brother’s room. Rick closed the distance. Mina blocked a punch and took a quick jab in the ribs.

Worth the bruise.

She darted to the right and Rick followed. She ducked under his swing, loosing a flurry of punches along his kidney.

Rick grabbed her wrist and twisted the arm behind her back. Before she could react, he hooked her ankle and her face slammed into the mat.

She rolled over, grinning. If I’d had a knife, you’d be down.

But you didn’t have a knife. Which is why I let you get so close. Rick held out a hand.

Mina grasped it and her stomach dropped a little as he lifted her off the mats. "You let me sucker punch you a few times?"

For the pleasure of slamming your face into the mat? Rick grinned. Damn right I did.

Mina stuck her tongue out and headed over to their water bottles.

Rick followed her. What tripped you up?

Mina tossed him a chilled bottle. The music in Matty’s room got very loud. Knowing that my baby brother and my ex need a little privacy still creeps me out.

I bet… I mean, you and Dean…

Mina rolled her eyes and shook her head. Three awkward dates barely counts as a relationship. And I’m glad it’s working out so well for them. I just wish I didn’t have to hear about it.

Did you and Matty have another long talk about the state of their love life?

Mina shrugged, then nodded, not quite trusting herself to be civil if she spoke. The truth was that as ecstatic as she was that Matty finally trusted someone enough to fall in love, the Trojan leaving made it hurt.

And he’s never coming back.

Rick dropped on the mats that covered the cement floor. We need to get out of this house.

You sick of trying to teach me to fight? Mina flopped down beside him.

A little. Rick punched her arm before reaching for his foot. But mostly, I think you and I have been moping around the house, listening to… music blaring from Matty’s room for three months. It’s time to get out of here.

What brought this on? Mina pushed out a leg and reached for her toes.

Rick stretched silently for a long moment. Sonja’s phone is disconnected.

Mina’s stomach turned over. I’m sure she’s okay.

Rick sat up. So am I. He sucked in a big breath. We’ve been texting for a few weeks now.

Rage flared in Mina’s brain. She fought to find the words to express Rick’s betrayal.

Rick held up his hands. Before you tear me up, I don’t know anything about the Trojan. Sonja said he wanted it that way, clean break and all that. I just- I wanted to talk to her, so I kept my questions to myself.

Mina beat down her temper. He wasn’t actually talking to her ex. Besides, she would love to see Sonja, too.

But now she’s cut me out. No word, no explanation. She said it was hard talking to me, and then yesterday it went dead. The bitterness in his voice could have slaked Seattle’s thirst for coffee.

Mina pulled up her knees and wrapped her arms around them. So, tonight, we head out?

Rick’s smile lit up his face. Just so you know, I make a hell of a wingman.

***

The walls of Rick’s room were still a mess of white patches on powder blue. Sam and Mina had begun arguing about what color to paint it, but he didn’t really care. It was a place to sleep.

He pulled on a pair of clean gym shorts before he stared at his closet. He had no idea what to wear to the kind of club Mina wanted to go to. His wardrobe consisted entirely of work clothes of some kind: brown delivery uniforms, gym clothes, and stuff he didn’t mind monsters tearing up or staining.

He turned away and pulled a gray t-shirt out of a drawer when a knock sounded. The door opened to Mina in a simple black dress.

He had seen her in skirts before, but the conservative business suits she wore to work didn’t stop mid-thigh or hug her slim, athletic build. She also didn’t wear four inch, black stilettos to work. Her blue-black hair hung stick-straight to her shoulders, and glimmers of silver could be seen at her ears.

Her make up was different, too. Mostly, it was her eyes. She had big dark eyes normally, but now her lashes extended almost to her cheek and her black and silver eye shadow looked professionally done.

Rick whistled. Forget wingman. You’re going to need someone to keep track of numbers for you.

She grinned, and for a moment, there was nothing of her brother in her face. And why aren’t you dressed?

Rick held out the t-shirt. No idea what to wear.

Mina rolled her eyes and pushed past him. Jackass. You totally forgot about your Christmas presents. She shunted aside all the clothes in his closet until she pulled out a pair of khakis and a blue, button down shirt. The blue will make your eyes pop. What shoes do you have? She glanced down and shook her head. Good gods, I am so taking you shopping. Wear the tan work boots. As she walked to the door she smacked his bare torso. And put a white t-shirt under that, you heathen.

Rick rested the clothes on his bed, and a splash of color caught his eye. The garish reds and yellows of a souvenir photo frame. Sonja sat beside him in the car of a roller coaster. Her long black braid wrapped around her neck and her grin was brighter than the frame. Even the cheap digital camera couldn’t disguise her perfect heart of a face, or dull her golden skin.

Rick considered throwing the picture away, as he had every day for the past three months. In the end, he averted his eyes and put on the clothes Mina had picked out.

I still need to do my hair.

***

Small alcoves lined with dark leather booths dotted the black walls. Laughter seeped out of them, and occasionally the muted sounds of people having more private fun.

Rick sat at an empty table, marveling at how well the walls dampened the roaring music. He ran his finger along a line of condensation on his full glass, and glanced out at the crowd.

Mina danced away, still oblivious to the dark-haired woman with strikingly pale skin checking her out. She hadn’t even stopped to get a drink. She’d just handed him her purse and hit the dance floor as soon as they walked in.

Is this seat taken? The thick Irish accent came from full lips. A light dusting of freckles crossed her tan cheeks and her dark, skyward curls had streaks of auburn.

Rick shook his head and looked for Mina again.

Your girlfriend?

He huffed a laugh. My sister.

She sat down with a smile. And when did you two break up?

Rick tried to return the smile, but his face felt stiff. She’s my best friend’s sister, might as well be mine.

Ah. My name’s Cody. She held out a hand.

He shook it. Rick.

She sat back and crossed her long legs. So, who had the gall to break your heart?

Who says I’m heartbroken?

She took a sip of her drink. Well, Captain USA, why else are you at a club, with a woman you can’t date, drinking alone?

America.

What?

Never mind. He waved a hand. "It was a while ago, and I’m trying to get out