Home for Horny Monsters Ch. 097

"And you think someone like you can fix it?" Her lackey was giving him a hard stare, now.

"Of course I can. After all..." Mike sent a pulse of magic into a nearby tree, which started a chain reaction with the surrounding vegetation. The Order looked around in confusion, obviously sensing the magic but unable to track it. Despite a complete lack of wind, the branches of the trees shook dramatically, causing leaves to fall around the group. As the leaves fell, Mike used his mastery of electrical fields to spin them into tiny tornados that danced across the playground. Callisto clapped his hands in delight as the leaves were carried up into the air, creating a whirling fountain of green. Up above, thunder rumbled in the clouds, most likely summoned by Quetzalli.

"I am the Caretaker," Mike finished. The leaves tumbled down around them, forming a circle."Now if you'll excuse me, I promised I would push my kid on the swings before we left."

The Order stood there for several long moments, the men looking at Ingrid. She tilted her head as if listening to something, then nodded in Mike's direction.

"We'll be in touch," she said, then turned on her heels and left, taking her minions with her.

Ingrid sat in the back of the van, her eyes on the electronic tablet in her hands. It showed a dossier that had been assembled on Michael Radley, now complete with a picture taken from a secret camera that Wallace had been holding.

After leaving the park, they had plugged directions into the GPS for a retired mage who lived in the area. They had wanted to bring him on board ahead of time, but directives from the top had been very strict. They would make no further moves until contact had been established with Radley. Her people had staked out the Radley estate for over a month now, waiting for the man to finally emerge.

"So what are you thinking?" In the seat across from her, Wallace was busy looking through a tablet of his own. The interior of the van was modified to allow the passengers to face each other. It was more of a mobile command center than anything else, but it did have a minibar stocked with snacks and beverages.

"Hard to say. I'm more interested in the woman who was with him and the boy." She flipped to the pages they had marked Cal and Aunt Que. "I imagine the woman is probably a cryptid. There's definitely something otherworldly about her. According to the few notes we have, her profile doesn't match up with anything that lived in that house."

"Hmm." Wallace looked up from his tablet. "She seemed older, and she's the boy's aunt. That implies that she's related to the boy's mother."

"And yet they look nothing alike. So unless the man adopted, he knocked someone up." She double-checked Radley's history. "But he's way too old for the math to work."

"Which means that either he is adopted and potentially a cryptid, or a half-breed." Wallace marked something on his own tablet with a finger. "Half breed makes the most sense to me. Definite familial resemblance."

"Agreed. Depending on what he bred with, we may be facing a massive violation of non-breeding ordinances."

"However, he is in protected territory. No exposure to normals. As long as this kid doesn't get out and cause trouble, we don't have any right to move on him." Wallace smirked. "The guy has been getting dirty with monsters. Who would have thought?"

"Sex with monsters isn't a crime," Ingrid said. "But it really should be."

"Eh." Wallace shrugged. "Monster is such a general term. Boning a vampire is way different than boning the Loch Ness monster. Crosses a few extra lines."

"Not as far as I'm concerned." Ingrid had been with the Order since childhood. She had been the sole survivor of a plane crash on a family trip when she was nine. It was a small plane, capable of sitting ten, and her family had purchased all the seats. An undiscovered flock of wyverns had attacked the plane in mid-flight, and after the plane went down, she had successfully hidden from them until the mysterious Order had arrived to save her. There was a thin line separating the real world from the magical one, and she was determined to destroy anything that dared to cross it.

"Estimated threat level?" Wallace raised an eyebrow. "Potential telekinesis, though it seemed like he was manipulating nearby trees. I felt all the hair on my arms stick up, so electrical fields, perhaps?"

Threat levels were a simplified way of looking at any potential target and knowing what measure of response was needed. Nixies and other faerie pests were considered Tier 5 threats--they existed, but rarely accomplished anything beyond being a nuisance. Rookies were often sent out to dispatch Tier 5 threats to work on their own teamwork, or as punishment. Some of the level 5s were, frankly, annoying.

A Tier 4 threat was something that could use magic and was intelligent or capable enough to do serious harm. A hedge witch might reach Tier 4 if she knew the right spells to seriously hurt another. Typically, magical creatures in the Tier 4 category were left alone, because they really only struck out in self-defense.

"I'd put him at Tier 4," she replied.

"His son thinks otherwise." Wallace grinned. "He'd probably be embarrassed to know that his dad barely makes our list at all. If not for the cute little leaf show, I don't know that he'd even pass 5."

"I don't give a shit what his kid thinks. Based on what we saw, the worst thing that guy has ever been through is a bad hair day and some chafing." She thought back to that ridiculous pose he had struck. It had been the act of a carefree individual, a man without a care in the world.

"Are we talking about the same person?" Wallace tapped his tablet, flipping back through pages. "Did you even read his psych evaluation?"

"Several times. Let's just say money apparently does buy happiness." She groaned. "Please tell me you got a ping on that ridiculous title of his."

Wallace shook his head. "Even in our library, the word Caretaker is pretty innocuous. Could be something he made up himself."

"Damn." She pushed the hair away from her eyes and sighed. The Director had been very adamant about how she was to approach Mike Radley, but she could feel that something was off. The man was supposed to be dangerous, and there hadn't been any intel about children. Cal's presence had made her own approach far softer than intended, and now she regretted even agreeing to speak with him again about the property in Hawaii. However, the Director had been listening in on their encounter with Mike through her earpiece. At Mike's offer of assistance, the Director had practically shouted for her to accept. "Are we there yet?"

"Almost." Wallace looked out the window. "So we're pulling old man Cyrus back into the game?"

"Out of necessity, yes." Master Cyrus had been one of the best mages the Order had ever seen, but his last mission had been an absolute disaster. His entire team had been killed, save for one of his knights. The whole thing involved a succubus, a dragon man, and rumors surrounding a blonde haired witch who couldn't be killed. "But he knows we're coming."

"Kind of convenient that he is so close by. Coincidence?"

Ingrid snorted. "You really think an old school mage like him would be hanging around a place like the Radley estate without checking in with us?"

"Yeah. Guess you're right." Wallace looked at his tablet again. "Speaking of the improbable, do you really think Mike is hiding a Class 1 artifact in his house?"

"Like the Grimoire of Morgan Le Fey? Doubt it." While cryptids and magic users had Tiers, magical items had Classes. The levels were similar, and anything with one attached was either under lock and key with the Order, or had been destroyed. There were Tier 1 threats out there that the Order hadn't gotten rid of yet, but those were not for lack of trying. For example, there was a creature in the Berkeley Pit that they kept locked away from the public. If they knew how to get rid of it, they would have already. "You think a man who could change the world with Words of Creation would be messing around with his kid at the park?"

"Fair." Wallace fell silent, his gray eyes focused on the scenery outside. The man had been Ingrid's partner for almost twenty years, and seemed to have a supernatural talent for knowing when she needed to be alone with her thoughts.

The van pulled up outside of an apartment complex. Blake and Bradford, who were brothers, got out and opened the side door for Ingrid. She got out first, then waited for Wallace.

"Sword got stuck in the seatbelt," he muttered, sliding his weapon back into its sheath. "Sorry."

"Why even bother with a seatbelt? You have wards." Ingrid rolled her eyes and walked up the stairs. An elderly resident came out of her home, saw the four of them, and promptly went back inside, muttering something about men in black. It wasn't an entirely bad assumption, considering how much time and energy the Order had put into perpetuating the myth.

The Order had been hiding in plain sight for centuries now. Often, if someone shared a conspiracy theory involving aliens, lizard people, or phantom lights in the sky, the Order was involved. It was far easier to let the wackier theories gobble up any specific details about their activities. Nobody wanted to believe that the UFO they saw was a fairy cluster lost during migration, or that the lizard people were a newly discovered warren of kobolds. Sometimes, the story became so wild that the Order had people who actively promoted the tale just to further discredit the source.

Walking toward their destination, Ingrid marveled at all the wards that Cyrus had laid out. He had been surprisingly thorough--if they had been a hit squad, at least one of them would be dead already. This was a man who had prepared for the worst, which was good, all things considered.

She had worked with Cyrus a few times several years back and had a massive amount of respect for the man. Things inside the Order had changed rapidly in the last eighteen months. Something was hunting down their older members, retired or otherwise, and the loss had been staggering. Hundreds of years of collective knowledge and experience had been lost already, and the collateral damage meant pulling trainees up early just to meet staffing demands. It was clear that Cyrus had made preparations in case he became a target, and she wondered if things would look different in the hallway if he hadn't known they were coming.

Looking over her shoulder at the men under her command, she frowned. The Order was being stretched thin. She often wondered if that had been the intent.

The old mage opened his door long before they could knock, revealing a thin man with a stern jaw. His face was pockmarked with scars and his hair had gone completely white.

"Brothers. Sister." He stepped away from the door. It was a small apartment with a decent view. "Please, come inside."

Blake and Bradford took up positions in the kitchen, bringing in a couple of paper bags full of lunch from a nearby cafe. While they put together a meal for everyone, Ingrid sat with Cyrus and showed him the folders on the Radley Estate. The whole time the mage dug through the papers, he had a troubled look on his face. He dropped the folders on the table with a sigh and sat back in his recliner.

"Is everything okay, Master Cyrus?" Wallace leaned forward in his seat, watching the old man intently.

"I think I'm missing something here. I got a call an hour ago informing me that I'm being reinstated, but this..." he gestured at the paperwork on his coffee table. "This doesn't seem like a case. What am I missing?"

Ingrid and Wallace looked at each other.

"To begin with, the situation in Hawaii is fairly critical. If Radley can get us onto that property, we can figure out how to stop whatever killed off all those merfolk. That was one of the colonies, essentially boiled alive in their homes before they washed up on shore. The monarchy there is in a full blown panic and they want answers now."

Cyrus winced. "And you think Mike Radley is involved?"

"Personally? Doubt it." Ingrid turned to accept a beverage from Blake. Bradford had put sandwiches and chips on a set of plates, which he handed out to everyone. "But he offered to come in and help, and the Director was very happy to hear that."

"Oh? So does this mean I'm going to dust off my Hawaiian shirt and go with you?" Cyrus scratched at his chin, deep in thought.

"Well, you were, but not anymore." Wallace took his sandwich and bit into it.

"It turns out the Director sees this as a way to kill two birds with one stone." Ingrid tapped a picture of the Radley Estate. The place was huge, and looked like it would be perfect for hosting weddings and celebrity parties. "He wants to put you on point for an operation here. While Mike is helping us with our problem in Hawaii, you will be running a team here that will be looking into the Radley Estate."

"Excuse me? Why?" Cyrus was suddenly suspicious. "I understand that you're short handed, but why make me stay here and watch a house? And with a whole team? I don't get it."

"This wasn't the original plan, but the Director insisted on these changes. If Mike Radley is coming with us to Hawaii, it provides an unprecedented opportunity to explore the magic surrounding the home and perhaps infiltrate it. Rumors from the higher ups is that it's a treasure trove of magic, and we don't want that falling into the wrong hands."

Cyrus leaned back in his chair, his blue eyes fixed on the opposite wall. He scratched at his beard, then picked absentmindedly at one of his scars.

"Will this be a problem?" Wallace asked. "You seem unsettled."

"No, not a problem. This seems outside of protocol is all. If there's no evidence of magical malfeasance, it almost sounds like we're planning to steal from this man."

"We are." Bradford chuckled from the kitchen. "You've been out of the game. Some things have changed. It's no longer about maintaining the balance, because our side is losing. Something or someone out there is trying to tip the scales, so now we need to be proactive."

"Wait a second." Cyrus picked up the folders in front of him and looked at the devastation from Hawaii. "Your mission is to figure out what caused this and get rid of it, right?"

Wallace and Ingrid exchanged a look.

"Or turn it into an asset if we can," Wallace admitted.

"What Bradford said is true, Master Cyrus. The Order is looking for weapons. Whatever did this is a potential weapon. Since Mike wants to complicate things and call himself the Caretaker, well...while the cat is away..." Ingrid let the saying hang.

Cyrus scowled at the folder for a good minute, his features suddenly hard. "When the farmer knows his cat is gone, he lays traps."

"We're smarter than mice," Bradford offered.

Cyrus looked at the men in his kitchen and sighed. "I used to think the same way. But then one day you realize that you've never been more than food waiting to happen."

"If you can't do this, I'll let you tell the Director yourself." Ingrid crossed her arms. "You are needed, Master Cyrus. Being part of the Order is a calling, you taught me that once. Why the sudden hesitation?"

"It's because..." Cyrus sighed and rubbed his face. "I had finally adjusted to my retirement, that's all. I am an old man, and even the Director knows that old men get stuck in their ways. But if you want me to help you with the Radley house, well...let's just say I'm the right man for the job."

"Good." Ingrid picked up her sandwich. "Let's talk about your new team."

After the people from the Order left, Kisa appeared with Yuki in tow. Once Mike explained that everything was fine and nobody needed to be killed, they put Grace back in the wagon and headed home.

Walking between the stone lions guarding the metal gate to his home, Mike paused long enough to pat the stone foundation of the fence. He could feel the magic humming inside as if it was an extension of himself. The lion above made a rumbling sound that sounded like rocks being tumbled, but remained perfectly still.

On their way up the long driveway, Tink came out of the house, fury in her yellow eyes. As the goblin approached, everyone scattered, leaving Mike alone next to the wagon with Grace inside.

"Hey, Tink, I--OW!" The goblin had run up as if to hug him, but had bitten his hand instead.

"Bad husband! Promise Tink no danger!" Her yellow eyes were rimmed with tears as she moved around him and held out her arms. Grace leapt out of the wagon and into Tink's arms, wrapping her legs around the goblins petite frame. She made a happy hissing sound as Tink stroked her hair.

"Tink take care of baby legs. No more danger!" She blew a raspberry at Mike, an action which was mimicked by his daughter, then the goblin stormed inside with the child.

In Grace's first days, an immediate bond had formed between the arachne and the goblin. Mike certainly couldn't explain it, but Tink was very protective of the child, and would sometimes hover in the background when others were playing with her. The playground outing had actually become an argument for her, because Tink wanted to go along but couldn't.

"Damn, she's really mad." Kisa appeared from the nearby bushes and inspected Mike's hand. "She even broke the skin."

"Yeah, it's fine. I get it." He looked at his wound and waited a few seconds before wiping the blood away. The puncture marks were already scabbed over. "I'm a little mad at myself, honestly. But to be fair, how were we supposed to predict the Order dropping by for a visit?"

"You should know to expect the unexpected by now." She put her arm around his waist and nuzzled her head against his chest. "Speaking of, if Tink was this mad, I expect Zel to be equally so."

"Oh, shit. Callisto, where are you?"

His son came out of the bushes, his slap bracelet already removed. Callisto's centaur body was chestnut in coloration, which was slightly lighter than his hair. His son trotted up with a smirk on his face.

"You're gonna be in trouble," he said, stretching the last word out.

"Yep." He knelt down and kissed his son on the forehead. "Even though it wasn't my fault, those people came looking for me. I think playground trips may have been canceled for a while."

Callisto frowned. "I kind of liked the playground," he admitted. "And leaving the house. The outside world is interesting. I like how there are sidewalks everywhere."

"That's something we can work on later. But I wanted to say that I'm proud of how you conducted yourself. You didn't say anything they could use against us and you stayed right by my side. Good job." Mike held up his hand for a high five, but groaned when Callisto punched it instead. His son was smart enough to know the difference between a fist bump and a high five, but also knew that this drove Mike nuts.

"I'll see you later, Dad." Callisto trotted off toward the gateway that would take him straight back to his herd. It was a small building guarded by centaurs with a portal in the back. The guards bowed to Callisto out of courtesy, and then his son was gone. Yuki and Quetzalli had already gone inside the house. Abella was at her favorite spot on the roof, gazing down at the front gate.

"If you're lucky, Zel will wait until tomorrow to chew you out." Kisa looked up at Mike. "You should probably think about how you're going to apologize."

Mike laughed. "We'll brainstorm something later. Come on, let's get some lunch. I already texted Beth. I'm sure she'll be here in a little bit."

Lunch was fairly quiet, other than watching Grace drain a meat bag with her fangs. The little arachne slurped noisily next to Tink, who was throwing dirty looks around as if daring someone to say something. Mike took care of the dishes then went to his office. He waved to Death, who was sitting in the library next door. The library used to be a sitting room full of Egyptian artifacts, but after the home's last expansion, the artifacts looked awkward in the much larger space. They had condensed the artifacts into one corner, turning it into a fancy reading nook, then curated the room's book collection using recommendations from Sofia. The home library was large enough that it had a gallery that required a ladder on wheels for access. One of Kisa's favorite spots was up in a small picture window bay that overlooked the front yard.