The Night Beat, From the Necropolis Enforcement Files Read Free Page A

assault rifle is going to help,” I called to him.
    “Can’t hurt.” He leaned against the car and fired. This seemed to affect Slimy, but it was still coming towards us. “Any suggestions?”
    “Oh, goodness. Good effort, young man, and you’ve certainly hurt it more than anyone else. However, it would help if you aimed for its vulnerable spots.” The voice was old and quavered, with excitement.
    I crawled closer to Jack. “H.P., if we knew where its vulnerable spots were, it’d be dead already. Jack, if he deigns to tell you, shoot wherever H.P. says.”
    H.P. wasn’t the biggest man in the world. Well, he wasn’t a man any more, technically. He also hadn’t been that old when he’d died, less than fifty. He looked, sounded and acted old because he said he felt old. He was a zombie. But there hadn’t been any choice, really. Once a human dies of natural causes -- well, natural human causes -- there’s only so many ways to bring them back. And we’d needed H.P.’s expertise.
    He smiled at Jack. “May I, young man?”
    Jack sighed. “Sure, why the hell not?” He handed H.P. the gun.
    H.P. shook his head. “Children, everyone needs to get clear please.” Even though most of us were technically older than him, he called us all children -- he meant it lovingly so none of us minded. He was also unfailingly polite, due, according to the Count, to the era he’d been raised in. It never bothered me unless we were in pressure situations. Then I kind of wanted him to get a little testy. But he never did. He wasn’t at the Count’s level, but H.P. was pretty unflappable.
    He was also shooting. At what I and, I was sure, the others, considered Slimy’s feet. And it was working.
    “You see, children, its power comes from below,” H.P. said merrily as he laid down a steady stream of bullets and Slimy started shrinking. “Hence, you have to cut it off from the source.”
    “Does he always lecture?” Jack asked me.
    Maurice and Amanda landed next to him. “Constantly,” Maurice said.
    I waited for Jack to react. He didn’t. He was still watching H.P. take down Slimy. “Why?”
    “He’s a professor,” Amanda offered.
    “Professor of what?” Jack’s calm and interest were starting to freak me out far more than Slimy.
    “Ancient monsters,” Ken answered as he landed, carrying Monty and Rover. He set Monty down carefully, but an arm fell off anyway. “Ancient gods and monsters,” he amended. “And current ones, too, but his specialty is the ancient. Sorry, Monty.”
    Monty sighed. “It happens.”
    Jack bent down, picked the arm up, and handed it to Monty. “Need a hand?”
    “Hilarious.” Monty gave him a dirty look. “I’m used to it, thanks.” He shoved the arm on and Rover did his wrap and squeeze thing that helped Monty reattach.
    Jack looked back at H.P. Slimy was down to human sized and shrinking. “Good thing he showed up. What’s his name?”
    “Professor Emeritus Howard Phillips Lovecraft,” H.P. called over his shoulder. “Tenured at Necropolis University. At your service.”

Chapter 6
     
    H.P. continued to take care of Slimy and I contemplated my next move. I could go human, but I was hurt and healing was better in wolf form and a lot faster in werewolf form. I wondered if Jack would notice if I slipped into the half-human, half-wolf look. I could ask Jack what he thought he was seeing, but I got the impression he was seeing exactly what was here. I could run away and hide, but that went against both my better nature and the oaths I’d taken for both of my jobs.
    I was saved from making a decision by the radio. “Officers Wolfe and Wagner. Are you all right? Come in.” Darlene sounded beyond worried. I couldn’t blame her.
    I also couldn’t work the radio with paws. Jack reached in. “Yeah, Darlene, we’re okay. Situation,” he looked back at H.P., “seemingly under control.”
    “Detective Wagner, Chief wants to know how you knew to send other police support to