Monster Hunter Legion-eARC (18 page)

Just what I needed, more time to think.

Ten minutes later the elevator returned, and when the doors slid open, my brother came out with a girl under each arm. The women weren’t exactly dressed for the church choir, were medium attractive, seemed a little tipsy, and Mosh already had lipstick smears all over his neck. Even being a washed-up rock star had its perks.

“Hey.”

Mosh looked up from his distractions and saw me. Surprise registered on his face for just a second before he forced a smile. “Hey, bro.” The greeting was awkward. “What’re you doing here?”

“In town for a convention…I’m staying at the Last Dragon.” I nodded at the party girls. “Bad time?”

His thick eyebrows drew together into an angry V. “It’s all bad times now.” His left hand was resting on one woman’s bare shoulder and his fingers twitched inadvertently. “Ever since…you know…Ladies, this is my big brother Owen. I owe him
so
much.”

“Your brother?” Even the groupies sensed the sudden tension. “You guys do look kind of alike.”

“He looks more like Mom,” I said. “Sadly, I take after our Dad.”

“I always was the
lucky
one.”

This had been a bad idea. I looked at the ugly carpet. “You know, I’ll just come back later.”

“Naw, it’s cool,” Mosh said, sounding resigned. “I can’t avoid you forever.”

“We’ve got some more girlfriends downstairs. We can call them and throw a party,” suggested one of the aspiring brain surgeons. “Your brother’s sort of cute.”

Now she was just lying. I was a lot of things, but
cute
wasn’t one of them.

“Don’t waste your time. My brother here’s not the party type. Owen is married to an absolutely stunning, beautiful, loving, completely homicidal woman. Did you girls know that my brother is a professional Monster Hunter? For real…He kills monsters for a living. Dude’s like a superhero. He’s killed werewolves, zombies, vampires, you name it.”

“Mosh, please…”

“Nuh-uh.”

“No way.” Giggle.

“Yeah, way. All that stuff is real. See, but this one time Owen pissed off this ancient squid god from outer space. That’s how I really lost my fingers. Asshole death cultists kidnapped me and took them off with a hacksaw blade. That bus accident was just a bunch of lies. Huh, Owen? Tell them.”

MCB would drop him like a hot rock if he kept this up. “You trying to get in trouble? You know how the system works.”

“The system? Oh, yeah, I know all about the
system
. The system is why I’m here now. Yeah, ladies, monsters are real. Straight from your worst nightmares, things you can’t even imagine, but my big brother
protects
us from them. Huh? Tell them, Owen. Let us hear your tales of glory.”

“Shut up.”

He pointed at the nylon bag I had over one shoulder. “You got Abomination in there? Going to go save the day, dispense some
monster justice
? That’s what really happened in Montgomery. This giant red monster and his purple bitch sister, they killed those people, not me.”

One bimbo was giggling hysterically, but the other one was actually paying attention, eyes wide, looking between me and my brother. She actually seemed rather perceptive for someone with a nose piercing.

“You keep talking like that in public and the MCB—”

“The MCB will what? Ruin my life?”

“They’ll
end
your life, dumb shit.”

Mosh let go of the girls. He couldn’t hide the anger anymore. “You—”

“We need to talk.” I cut him off. If he wanted to have a fight, we should at least do it someplace private. “It’s important.”

“Oh, really? Whose life are you planning to wreck this time?” Mosh sneered.

“Dad’s.”

He stopped, closed his eyes, took a deep breath, then rubbed his face with both hands. Knowing Mosh, he’d either calm down or take a swing at me. I got lucky. Once he composed himself, he addressed the groupies. “Diane, Cindy…”

“Cathy.”

“Yeah, whatever. I’ve got to jet. Family business. Sorry.” He pulled two red tickets out of his vest. “These are good for drinks on me at the bar downstairs. Enjoy yourselves. I’ll catch you ladies after another show.”

The groupies made disappointed noises. “Do they validate parking?” Cathy asked, but Mosh was already steering them back toward the elevator.

He roughly bumped into my shoulder as he passed. “Thanks for ruining my evening.” He unlocked his door, I followed him inside, and he slammed it shut behind us. “You’re an asshole.”

“I didn’t mean to interrupt your
date.
”

“How’d you find me?”

“Your show isn’t a secret. Big sign out front. I even saw your face on a taxi.”

“How’d you know my room number?”

“If you would’ve returned my calls, I wouldn’t have had to have my IT troll hack into the hotel computer.”

Mosh just shook his head, stomped across the suite, and flopped onto the couch. “Make it quick. I’m busy.”

I took in the surroundings. The place was a mess. Mosh had never been what I would’ve described as tidy, but this was the room of someone who just didn’t care. There was a pink bra hanging from the ceiling fan. Discarded takeout boxes were piled on the counter, and the coffee table was covered in many empty and partially empty liquor bottles. “This place doesn’t have maid service?”

He put his gigantic leather metal-studded boots on the table. “I put out the sign. Do not disturb. Been disturbed enough lately.” Mosh sighed. “Sit already. You standing there just pisses me off more. All looming like that.”

Abomination’s bag went on the carpet. I sat on the loveseat across from him. “You’re just bitter that I got the tall genes.” I had him by a few inches.

“You got the stupid genes too…What do you want?”

“I’ve been trying to get a hold of you.” This was worse than I’d expected. Him sitting there glaring at me wasn’t helping. We hadn’t talked much lately. He’d been pretty charged up at first, thinking he was going to overcome adversity and all of that type of thing. He had even joked around about applying for MHI, but then the constant smears, negative publicity, and avalanche of lawsuits had slowly ground him down. “I’ve been worried.”

Mosh snorted. “I’m a nobody musician. I’m a has-been. Why worry about me? You’re Mr. Dangerous. You’re the Chosen One.”

“Yeah, it’s a real picnic. Look, man, you know I’m sorry about—”

“I don’t want to hear it.”

We sat there in an uncomfortable silence. There was an acoustic guitar leaning on the arm of the couch. Mosh picked it up and began to strum it absently.

I looked at the bottles. There were a lot of them. “Drink all that yourself?”

“None of your damned business. Is this an intervention? Is that why you’re here, Owen?”

“Two things…” I would tackle the easy one first, I’d get to killing Dad in a minute. “You dropped off the face of the Earth. You haven’t talked to anybody. We’re worried—”

“I’m fine.” Pitts are such terrible liars.

“I know you’ve been through a lot. I can help out.”

His face turned red. “I don’t want your money.”

He had taken that entirely the wrong way. “That’s not what I meant.” Mosh watched me for a bit, trying to decided if I was intentionally trying to offend him or not, then turned away from me and started playing a song, something familiar, from when we were kids and he’d been taking classical lessons. It sounded amazing. Almost as good as before. “I heard you play tonight. You sounded good.”

“It was pathetic.”

“Naw, it was great.”

“You’re deaf. Always have been. It’s from all that shooting. This? This is trash. This is embarrassing.”

The tune he was playing now was incredibly complicated, and his fingers were flying back and forth with blinding speed. It was amazing, and he was doing it all with the wrong hand. I didn’t try to talk, I just listened, hoping that he would open up. I watched the scowl of concentration on his face grow deeper, and then I understood what was wrong.

It was beautiful, haunting, better than anything almost anyone else would ever be capable of producing, but it wasn’t
perfect
. He wasn’t now, and probably never would be, as good as he’d once been. And that was killing him.

“I’m impressed,” I said quietly.

Mosh struck one last harsh, discordant note, then took the acoustic guitar by the neck and swung it against the table. Bottles bounced across the room. The guitar flew away in pieces. He stood up, fists clenched, veins popping out in his neck, and shouted, “I don’t want your pity!”

I got up and got in his face. “Then stop being pathetic.”

Mosh’s teeth were clenched and I got ready for him to hit me. “You ruined me, Owen! Is that what you want to hear? You want to rub it in? I had everything. Now I’m nothing, and it’s all your fault!”

“I know.” I had also tried to trade my life for his, but now wasn’t the time to bring that up. “I was the target, not you. I’m sorry.”

He glared at me for a long time, nostrils flared, and I wondered if that was how I looked when I got mad.

“I’m sorry,” I repeated.

“I wish it was that easy. It’s not just you.” Mosh broke away and began pacing. “
They
wrecked me. They wrecked my name. They wrecked my career. Everyone thinks I’m a scumbag. Sure, I’ve done some crazy things. I’ve had some fun. But I never hurt anybody. Now everyone thinks I’m the kind of guy that can just negligently kill a bunch of people, but I’m not going to go give some public, weepy apology for something I didn’t do, so now, even worse, I’m a heartless bastard negligent murderer. MCB’s happy. The bunch of lying bastards.”

“That’s what the MCB does,” I agreed.

“Like you can talk. You’re a liar too. You lie about everything you do! Your whole life is one big lie.” He continued pacing and yelling at me, calling me every name in the book, but I just took it. He needed to get it out. I could tell he was starting to cry a bit, but trying to hide it. “You play their game. You take their money. How are you any better than them?”

I didn’t have a good answer. Like he’d believe me if I told him I’d do this for free anyway. I shrugged. “Someone has to do it.”

“Thought so.” Once he’d railed against me and the government, he got to the Sanctified Church of the Temporary Mortal Condition, the entity that had physically dragged him into this world to begin with. “And the cult. They’re still out there. You know it, I know it.” The pacing stopped. “It was awful. They tied me to a chair. Then that evil psycho British chick sawed my fingers off! She laughed while I screamed! She thought it was
fun
. She thought it was fucking hilarious.”

He had never talked about the actual act before. I hadn’t known that it had been Lucinda who had done the actual dirty work. I’d managed to kill almost everyone else involved, but she’d managed to get away. Copper Lake had proved she would continue to be a thorn in our side. “She’s evil. She helped murder half a town in Michigan last winter. Next time we run into her, she’s dead. I promise.”

“You know the worst part…” he sniffed. “After they beat the hell out of me, but before they took my fingers off, she asked me for my autograph. I thought she was just a kid. I thought, what’s someone like her doing here? Wanted me to sign a CD, believe it or not. Said she was a big fan.”

“Did you?”

“I was too traumatized not to. I bet she just sold it on eBay.” Mosh laughed hard, then wiped his eyes. “Look at this dump! This is my life now. As soon as I make a dime somebody else sues me for it, and all I can do is say yes, you’re right, no contest, Your Honor, because if I don’t, if I tell the truth, then the MCB shoots me. You don’t know what it’s like. I had everything! Nice house, nice cars, beautiful women. Everything.”

“So they took your Ferrari—”

“It was an Aston Martin!” he corrected me quickly. “It was a Vanquish and it was
sweet
.”

“And you can be a big crybaby about it and drink yourself to an early death or you can cowboy up and move the hell on.”

“Up yours…Move on, doing what? You trying to recruit me again?”

I shrugged. “Why not? It’s important work. You know what’s really out there now.”

“I wish I didn’t.”

“If wishing worked, you’d still have your Aston.”

Mosh picked up the remains of the broken guitar. “I’m not like you, Owen.”

“No, you’re not. First off, you’re better looking. But really, Dad taught you the same things he taught me. Hell, Mosh, my current teammates were a high-school teacher and a stripper. Growing up in Pitt family boot camp makes you Chuck Norris in comparison.” That was a complete lie, since Holly was the hardest mortal human I knew and Trip was as reliable as the sunrise, but I was trying to build my brother up, not tell him that my teammates would eat him for breakfast.

“You were the tough one, not me.”

Now it was my turn to laugh. “I’m the one that fell into line and did exactly what Dad told me to do. You’re the one that had the guts to do your own thing. That makes you brave. I didn’t stop listening to him until after you’d told him to get lost and followed your own dream. Standing up to Dad? Screw fighting monsters.
That’s
tough.”

Anger temporarily spent, Mosh seemed deflated. He returned to the couch. “It’s been one hell of a year.”

“I can’t argue with that.”
And now here comes the hard part.
“Speaking of Dad…”

He knew the basics about Dad’s letter and his cryptic warnings, but not the specifics. Mosh was suddenly suspicious. “What? Is it that thing in his head?”

“Sort of. The symbol he warned me to watch out for. I found it tonight.” I told him briefly about the containment chamber, but didn’t give too many details. If he was stupid enough to haphazardly mention the existence of monsters in front of some random bimbos, talking about the Scary Zone was sure to put him on Agent Franks’ to-do list in no time. I had no idea how many witnesses Franks had actually murdered, or if his epic intimidation skills usually did the job, but I had no doubt if Mosh kept talking about monsters, one morning he would
accidentally
cut his own head off while shaving.

“So what does this mean? Is Dad going to just…croak?” He focused on a stain on the carpet and randomly rubbed at it with his boot. “Why does this have to be our family?”