Demon Driven (18 page)

* * *

I found my way to the pub, which was a fairly
classy Irish type, with high ceilings, a thirty-foot bar, red brick
walls and Celtic ambiance. The others were already there, which
wasn’t surprising as they mostly lived in Manhattan. Besides the
four from the squad, there were two others, Steve’s wife Edie,
along with Brian’s partner, Sean.

It had been a complete shock to meet Sean at
a squad Christmas party, as I hadn’t a clue that Brian was gay.
Nothing about the quiet, blocky combat instructor would lead one in
that direction, but there it was nonetheless. Obviously, a
close-quarter combat instructor might want to keep his
homosexuality a secret if he was training mainly heterosexual men
in grappling and hand-to-hand martial arts techniques.

But Sean was a really nice guy, and Brian was
as solid and dependable a cop as you could hope to find, so really,
when I analyzed my feelings, it didn’t make a bit of difference.
Better to have somebody, than go through life alone.

The others greeted me loudly, and Steve
shoved a beer into my hand as soon as I had accepted my hugs from
Fran, Edie and Sean (who was just going for a laugh, which he got).
They had claimed a couple of tables in the back, right next to the
two big pool tables. Further back against the rear wall, a four
pack of guys were playing darts.

Steve had poured the last of the Smithwick’s
into my glass, so Chet shoved the empty pitcher into my hands for a
refill. The bar wasn’t too packed but I still needed to thread
through patrons on my way to the bar where I waited for the barmaid
to notice me. She was chatting with a couple of guys while she
cleaned glasses and it gave me time to appreciate the view. Nice
jeans! Finally, glancing my way, she sauntered over, taking her
time to pick up a tip, wipe the bar, and generally do anything but
wait on me. When she got around to my corner of the bar, I was
starting to get annoyed. Pretty, brown hair and brown eyes, slight
dusting of freckles across her nose and cheekbones. She arched one
eyebrow coolly and waited for my request.

“Can I get this refilled with Smithwick’s and
maybe another pitcher as well?” I asked.

She nodded, picked up the pitcher and started
to fill it, all without a word. What bit her in the ass?

A couple of girls to my left were looking my
way, but after a quick smile, I avoided their glances and ignored
the bartender ignoring me. The wall behind the bar had pictures of
celebrities with a guy that was most likely the owner, so I studied
them while trying to figure out what I had done to alienate someone
I had never met before.

“Hey Gordon, what are ya doin’? Brewing the
damn stuff yourself?” Fran said from behind me.

“Just getting it now. I’m gonna get another
‘cause this one won’t last long,” I answered as she slid up next to
me.

“Good idea, better get two more. We’re
thirsty tonight!” she said.

The bartender brought the pitcher over,
smiled at Fran, then gave me a look and asked, “Did you figure out
that ‘maybe’ pitcher or not?”

“Yeah, I’ll take two more.”

She nodded and turned to fill them. Fran
glanced from her to me and then elbowed me.

“Chris, take off your sunglasses. They make
you look like a poser,” she said.

“Aww, Fran … I don’t really like to do
that.”

“Listen, Gina’s not here to kick your butt,
so it’s up to me to keep your nose clean. Off with the shades,
you’re among friends. Not gonna bother anybody back there!”

The two girls next to us were blatantly
listening to our conversation, but I ignored them, and with a sigh
took off my glasses, putting them in my shirt pocket.

“Happy?” I asked.

“Nope, not until you get those other pitchers
over to the table and I kick your ass at pool! Then I’ll be happy!”
she said with a smile, heading back to the table.

The bartender handed me one of the pitchers
and after a glance at me, started to fill the third. The girls next
to me were staring, so I went back to looking at the photos,
recognizing a couple of celebrities who had been at Tanya’s club,
Plasma.

Sally Surly, the barmaid, brought me the last
pitcher and I started to hand her two fifties, but she waved them
off.

“Your friends started a tab,” she said, her
tone less chilly than before.

“Okay, thanks,” I answered, thoroughly
puzzled by her behavior.

Retreating quickly to our table, I slid in
next to Fran, who watched me with a bemused expression.

I shook my head and she laughed.

“You’re a piece of work, Gordon! Totally
clueless, aren’t you?”

“What the hell did I ever do to that ice
queen bartender?”

“She gets hit on about a thousand times a
week. You stand there with poser sunglasses on, looking like a
player, and you wonder why she might be a touch standoffish?”

I hadn’t thought about it that way. It’s been
difficult getting used to all of my changes. It took me two months
to stop breaking door handles and shattering glasses. Then, another
month on top of that to learn to move slowly around people.

Newly turned vampires are only several times
stronger and faster than humans, and have years to adjust before
they gain even more power. I had rocketed past most four- and five
hundred-year-old vamps in seven months time. Then I had the
headaches of hyper senses, not to mention the temper that came with
my dose of demon blood. So you’ll pardon me if I concentrated on
those and ignored the changes to my looks. Having people,
especially women, notice me after years of living below the radar,
was last on my list of things to deal with. I didn’t understand
women, probably never would.

“Okay, I guess that makes sense. I’ll just
stay back here and that way she won’t have any issues with me,
right?”

Fran sighed and shook her head, “You’ll brave
the demons of hell, but a barmaid scares you silly, is that it?
Chris, I hereby designate you official beer getter for the rest of
the night! Gotta face your fears!

Now, c’mon we’re up,” she said, pointing at
the pool table.

Chapter 20

“
Every broken enemy will know that their
opponent had to be invincible. Take a last look around while
you’re
alive. I am an indestructible master of war.” –
Disturbed.

Takata and Demarco were getting creamed by
Chet and Sean, and I was on my fifth pint, when the werewolves
walked in. Male and female, dressed casually, but definitely
hunting. They spotted me, and the male, who was younger and
probably lower in rank, did a little fist pump of victory. His
partner, about five feet, ten inches, lean, and Scandinavian
looking, gave him a level stare, stopping him cold. She swiveled
through the crowd, ignoring the looks she was getting, her eyes
focused on me. Not really even pretty, but very striking – sort of
the Nordic huntress type. My very slight buzz burned itself out as
the thing in my chest perked up. Her manner wasn’t threatening, but
very direct and self-assured. The male was about an inch shorter,
well-built, with curly auburn hair and blue eyes.

“Mr. Gordon?” she asked.

“Yeah?”

My group was feeling very little pain, but
they straightened up at the sight of her and her partner.

“I have something for you,” she said, handing
me an envelope of thick cream-colored paper.

It was an invitation.

Please join Brock and Afina Mallek in
welcoming Lupine Industries’ newest employee, Ms. Stacia Reynolds,
at a luncheon in her honor at the Lupine corporate offices.

The date listed was tomorrow and the time was
twelve ‘o’ clock noon. The offices were located in downtown
Manhattan.

I looked up, bewildered, at the female.

“It’s common to welcome a….newcomer to
our…group with an event like this. You, of course, are invited as
you sponsored Ms. Reynolds’ placement with our corporation,” she
explained. Her tone left little doubt that she didn’t think much of
my involvement in her Pack’s business.

I nodded, but she stood right in front of me,
waiting. Finally, she sighed and spoke: “I’ve been instructed to
wait for your answer.”

“Let me check my social schedule,” I
deadpanned, pausing a moment before continuing. “Oh gosh, it looks
like I’m free. I’d be delighted.”

“Wonderful,” she said in a droll tone.

Her mission accomplished, she swiveled
fluidly and stalked out, the younger wolf following in a
self-important manner.

“Dude, what’s up with the Viking goddess?”
Chet asked.

“Were,” I said in explanation. “Just invited
me to a Pack function, although I don’t think she was excited about
an outsider being involved.”

“Do you know her?” Fran asked.

“No, but then I really only know a couple.
Mainly, Brock, Afina and their son, Bryce.”

“Well if you’re gonna know only a few, those
would be the ones!” Chet said.

* * *

We finished up about eleven and I was placed
in charge of taking the money up to pay the tab. The bartender
didn’t make me wait this time; she and I had reached a truce of
sorts, although I had never fully understood the conflict. Then we
all headed our separate ways.

I called Lydia as soon as I was on the street
and headed for the subway.

When she picked up, I explained the
invitation and asked for pointers.

“I’ve never been to one, as they usually
exclude outsiders, other than the new pack member’s family if
any.”

“Is it formal? Suit and tie?” I asked.

“No, probably business casual. Wear some
khakis and a nice button down or a polo.”

“What goes on? What can I expect?”

“Mostly just a meet and greet for the bulk of
the Pack. She’s pretty much already in, but technically, pack
members have the opportunity to object if they wish.”

“Is there much chance of that?”

“Not with Afina and Brock already
greenlighting her. Listen, Chris, I talked to Afina about this
girl. What’s your connection?”

“Well, she’s a were because I fucked up and
didn’t stop the one that bit her, even though I could have a dozen
times over. So I screwed up her life and that means I gotta make it
right.”

“You sure that’s your only
interest?
”

“What are
you
talking about?”

“Afina tells me she’s a knockout and she’s
been asking all kinds of questions about you!”

“Whoa! Okay, she’s pretty good looking, but
I’m totally hooked on Tanya. ’Sides, she’s a kid, seventeen or
eighteen, tops!”

“Hmmm yeah, alright. Just double
checking
.”

“Come on Lyd, you know me! You know how I
feel about Tanya!”

“Alright, alright! It’s just that this girl
has apparently knocked the males of the pack for a loop and all
she’s interested in is you!”

“Lyd, I really doubt she has the hots for me.
I mean, she most likely thinks I’m a monster!”

Laughter filled the earpiece as Lydia hung
up.

* * *

Lupine Industries occupies a four story
building in lower Manhattan. It was an older building, but the
exterior had been updated, making it fit better with the new
buildings on either side. The entire first floor is the flagship of
the company’s chain of sporting good stores. I had researched the
company the night before and found that it was private, no public
stock to be had, and had three lines of goods. The first and
founding line was traditional-type sports; soccer, football,
basketball, lacrosse, hockey, gymnastics, basically if a school
offered the sport, Lupine had the supplies. The second line was
outdoor gear, for hiking, backpacking, hunting and fishing. The
third and newest line was mixed-martial arts supplies, which went
hand-in-hand with a handful of dojos or martial arts schools owned
and run by Lupine.

At the back of the store, a burly werewolf in
a suit checked my name off a very short list of special guests and
directed me to the elevator. A fit looking couple came along behind
me and the guard just waved them through, but not before I had
noticed him sniffing the air in a subtle manner. I held the
elevator door for them and we rode to the second floor
together.

A female wolf greeted us as the elevator
doors opened and directed us through a cubicle farm of office
spaces to a very large room filled with extremely in-shape,
slightly feral looking people, mingling in cocktail party fashion.
I had hoped to slide in and go unnoticed, but I hadn’t counted on
scent. The buildings climate control system was blowing right at
the entry point and I could see the exact moment my scent hit the
people nearest the door. Almost as one, they turned and looked at
me, their faces aloof, their eyes gleaming. Okay, so the whole
sneak in, sneak out thing wasn’t gonna fly.

A tall redhead in a clingy mini dress was the
only one to smile, turning my way and beginning to move her long
athletic legs toward me. But she hadn’t taken two steps before my
radar indicated an incoming missile, this one with black hair and
weighing perhaps eighty pounds.

Nine-year-old Bryce Mallek launched himself
when he was still seven feet away, a feral grin of excitement
plastered across his face.

I first met Bryce and his redheaded mother,
Afina, who was still closing on us, about seven months back. They
had survived an attack by drug crazed killers in Central Park and I
helped them cover their retreat to the safety of the pack. I hadn’t
actually done a great deal, just offered food to help Afina heal
wounds she sustained killing the druggies that were stupid enough
to endanger her child. Hell hath no fury like a momma werewolf.

“Owww! Chris, you’re hard!” Bryce said,
rubbing his head where it had impacted my chest. I’m a lot denser
today than I was seven months ago (Lydia would argue that my head
has always been denser than lead).