Wild Knight (Midnight Empire: The Tower #1)

I followed the curve of the tunnel and noticed an offshoot. Hmm. Which way next?

A low growl reverberated from the offshoot. The hair on the back of my neck stood at attention.

Offshoot it is.

“Great. More company,” I sang out, moving toward the sound. “Come out and join the party. The more the merrier.”

Saliva pooled on the tunnel floor with a satisfying hiss. Two red eyes glowed in the darkness.

Make that four.

Shit. Six.

Three large jaws with gleaming fangs quickly followed. A three-headed dog like Cerberus, except this one was protecting a lowlife criminal instead of the god of the underworld. If you ask me, she got the short end of the stick. Then again, she was a dog, so maybe she didn’t care which end it was as long as it was a stick.

The dog was about three feet high and as wide as she was tall thanks to the multiple heads. Her black hair was short and coarse and sharp claws extended from her large paws. Not your friendly neighborhood Rover.

I maintained eye contact with the beast. Technically I chose the middle head and focused on that particular pair of eyes.

“Hey, cutie. What’s your name?”

“The name’s Mongrel and it’s about to feast on your flesh for dinner,” a gravelly voice said.

“Mongrel? That’s a terrible name.”

“For a terrible monster,” the voice replied.

The three-headed dog punctuated the remark with a round of ferocious barks.

“I take it you’re Fergal.”

“What’s it to you?”

“Come out where I can see you.” I didn’t dare take another step forward and irk the dog. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt her. It wasn’t her fault she’d been misled into protecting a thief and a liar. Guys like Fergal often withheld food and water as part of the creature’s ‘training.’

“You’re not too bright coming down here alone,” Fergal said.

“You’re not too bright living down here alone.”

I took the opportunity to move closer for a better view of my mark. He was a bulky man in a plain white T-shirt and shredded jeans that hung low on his waist, emphasizing his swollen gut. His thick, knotted hair looked like it hadn’t been combed in decades.

“Except I’m not alone. As you can see, I’ve got Mongrel.”

“I’m not alone either. I have a team of knights with me.” The other end of the phone counted, right?

Fergal eyed me curiously. “They let women be knights now? What’s the world coming to?”

Because the world was in such a perfect state otherwise.

“Nobody let me. I don’t need permission.”

Okay, that wasn’t strictly true. I had to pass a series of stringent tests to become a knight, but our most notable feature was that we were an all-female organization.

“I obviously hit a sore point.”

“And I’m about to hit one of yours if you don’t cooperate. You have something that belongs to my client and I’m here to reclaim it.”

Fergal balled his hands into fists. “I won it fair and square.”

“You didn’t win anything. You drugged an entire table of players and stole it.”

According to my client, Fergal served them all from the same pitcher of ale. My client thought it tasted bitter but before he could comment, he blacked out. When he lifted his head off the table an hour later, Fergal was gone and so was my client’s jar of honey.

Fergal spat on the floor of the tunnel. “Prove it.”

“I don’t have to.”

Fergal smacked the dog’s backside. “Mongrel, take care of this girl.”

Three heads growled again. So far Mongrel was all bark and no bite, which suited me fine.

“Did you even bring a weapon? How stupid can you be?”

If I were Fergal, I’d be more concerned by a knight who felt confident enough to venture down here without one.

I reached out with my mind and tried to make contact with the dog.

There you are, little lady.

Interesting. I expected three minds, but I only detected one. It seemed I was right to focus on the middle head. That was the control center. I touched the dog’s mind and offered reassuring thoughts.

Little pig, little pig, let me come in.

The dog resisted.

I pushed a bit harder, prompting a snarl from all three heads.

“What are you doing, you lazy piece of shit? Attack!”

Fergal’s demand had the opposite effect. The dog’s mind squeaked opened and let me slither in.

Gotcha.

For her size, she wasn’t too hard to win over. Probably because Fergal mistreated her. Those creatures were always easier to convert. Any port in a storm, bless her.

I transmitted my request.

“Mongrel, I said attack!” Fergal had no idea what was happening. I almost felt sorry for him.

Almost.

The left head turned first and growled at Fergal.

“Not me, you idiot,” Fergal shouted.

Yes, call the multi-headed, fanged beast an idiot. That will help you.

The creature swung around and snapped three sets of jaws at Fergal.

“What did you do?” Fergal demanded.

“Mongrel, stay.” The dog stilled and I held out my hand. “I’ll take that jar of honey now.”

Fergal’s eyes bulged. “Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t give it to you. I don’t have it.” He stumbled over his words, finally starting to comprehend the situation.

I clucked my tongue. “Fergal, aren’t you in enough trouble already? Let’s not drag this out.”

“I sold it.”

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Why, oh why did they insist on keeping up the charade when the jig was very clearly up?

I leaned down to address the creature. “Mongrel, when’s the last time you ate?”

Three mouths began to salivate at the same time. Acidic slobber dripped from the jowls, forcing Fergal to take another step backward.

“Hold on,” he said. “I’ll get it.”

I couldn’t see past Fergal to know what he was getting, but every fiber of my being told me it wasn’t what I came for.

Damn it, Fergal. I was trying to do this the easy way.

Metal flashed across the black backdrop.

Oh, well. I gave it my best shot. I would’ve preferred to handle this without help, but as I didn’t have a weapon, I commandeered one.

“Mongrel, charge,” I said.