A Girl's Guide to Guns and Monsters - Martin Harry Greenberg [36]
“We’re not leaving,” Leis said. She scanned the sea of faces. “Listen up! I’m looking for a guy.”
Most of the crowd was silent, but one of the men at a nearby table still managed to snicker. Leis turned on him, leveling the crossbow.
“Funny,” she said. “Aren’t all us girlie girls, right?” With the business end of a crossbow pointed at him, the man fell silent. Leis turned from him to address the room.
“Not sure what he might look like right about now, but he probably goes by one of several names. James Valens, John Dearly, Jason Love, Jeffrey L’Amour . . . he gets a kick out of all those names. Me? Not so much. Anyone heard of him?”
The crowd looked back at her with blank faces. Helen thought that if this had been a less touristy kind of place—more true New York, maybe—someone would have been telling them to shut up and sit down by now, but instead the room remained quiet.
“Fine,” Leis said. “Have it your way. Don’t talk.”
“Great,” Helen said, feeling a bit relieved. “Your ex isn’t here. Can we leave now?”
Leis shook her head. “He’s been here, though.”
“How can you tell?” Helen asked.
Leis took a deep breath and scrunched up her face. “Love,” she said, tapping a finger against her ear. “It’s in the air. Listen.”
Helen concentrated, listening to the sounds of the room. There was now a low whisper among the crowd, but Helen was sure no one dared raise their voice enough to catch Leis’ attention. Above it all was the sound of tinkling glass . . . from above. Helen and Leis both looked up. The crazy mobile was rocking back and forth, pieces of metal and glass brushing up against each other with the gentle sway. Three small, humanoid things moved in and out along the structure. Helen’s heart raced—she had never seen anything like them in her life. The leathery- winged little beasts clung to the art piece with sharp talons, looking like some perverted form of monster children with greasy little mops of hair. At the moment, they were trying to undo the couplings holding the structure to the ceiling.
“What the hell are those?” Helen asked, not quite trusting her eyes.
Leis circled another table to get a better view. “I’m not sure exactly,” she said, unfastening what Helen imagined was some kind of safety on the crossbow, “but they don’t look like anything I’m familiar with. But at a best guess? Cherubim.”
One of the gnarled little creatures looked down at Helen. Its eyes widened and its lips pulled back as it emitted a shrieking hiss, causing the crowd to erupt into chaos as they leapt from their seats screaming. The beast stayed focused on Helen as it leapt into flight. Helen dove under a nearby table as it passed overhead.
Leis hadn’t even moved. She tracked the creature in its flight across the room using the shiny metal tip of the crossbow bolt as her guide. Aiming slightly ahead of it, Leis pulled the trigger. The bolt flew over the crowd and hit the creature square in its chest, cutting through its leathery skin like it was paper. The creature curled in on itself, falling from the air and slamming into the lap of a stunned little girl a few tables away. She let out a scream that was far worse than the one the creature had made. The little girl shoved the monster off her lap and burst from her chair, her shrill screams breaking the spell over the dumbfounded remains of the crowd, sending the last of the patrons running double time to clear the place.
Helen’s table had been overturned in everyone’s rush for the doors, leaving her curled in an exposed ball out in the open. Leis grabbed Helen by the arm, and lifted her to her feet.
“Get up,” Leis said, “before you get trampled.”
“Sorry,” Helen said, shaken. She pulled her arm from Leis and stared at the dead creature on the floor not too far