Mitch was bulky with muscle and a bit of a
beer gut, so I dragged him through the trees first. After tossing
Maxi down next to him near the train tracks, I went back one more
time. I wanted to turn off the grill, pick up the platter, pocket
the revolver, and generally tidy up in case a neighbor came
snooping around. You know, get rid of any suspicious signs. I also
planned to run inside the trailer to see if there was anything
lying around that might've told me what their "next mission"
was.
I was halfway between the woods and the
trailer's small deck when I noticed movement. The shadowed shape of
a large animal came through some trees on the far side of the
backyard. Large animal - yeah, right; it was the biggest fucking
wolf I'd ever seen. It was staring at me with glowing, lava-orange
eyes. I'd seen those eyes before. They belonged to the bad-ass hemo
who'd left a few minutes before. I was so screwed.
FIRE
The wolf sniffed the air and took a few
leisurely steps further into the light. With its tongue lolling
out, I swear it was smiling at me - a hungry smile. And then, in
just a matter of a few seconds, the wolf arched up and silently
transformed into a crouching Jack Fletcher. He was still smiling at
me.
No one ever explained to me that a hemo could
turn into a giant wolf, so seeing one revert back into human form
like a horror movie trick left me flat-footed. The trick was
especially good because when Fletcher changed back into normal
form, he was wearing clothes. It was his same old outfit of faded
black jeans and red flannel shirt, but I wasn't concerned about his
lack of wardrobe at the time.
"I don't want to take an animal shape while
I'm tearing you apart, Beck," he said in a Scottish-accented voice
full of dark humor. "I want you to hear my laughter while I'm
gutting you." He sniffed again and turned his head toward the area
of the woods I'd just come from. "It would be inconvenient if
you've killed them, but I'd expect no less from you, Beck. You've
been a pain my arse nearly from the start." With a wider grin, he
began moving forward. "Let's remedy that, shall we?"
I figured a hemo in wolf form could run me
down no matter how fast I ran. So instead, I pulled the Super
Shorty from my back holster. Fletcher, near the deck by then,
hesitated, but his smile quickly returned. "By all means, shoot me
if your hands are steady enough," he said with a growl in the back
of his throat. "That worked so well for you last time," he added
sarcastically. Yeah, the time I put four rounds in his chest and he
barely noticed. Something like that wasn't easily forgotten.
Thing was, I had no intention of shooting
Fletcher again.
Pivoting the Shorty a little to the left, I
put a big slug into the propane tank, up near the top of it. No, it
didn't blow up like you'd see in movies, but a thick stream of
propane gas blasted out of the ruptures. In less than a second, the
flames from the still-lit grill caught the gas. An arc of flame was
sucked to the tank below, creating a sustained ten foot pillar of
yellow fire roaring out of it.
Fletcher literally freaked out. He turned
back to wolf form and took off like his tail was burning.
I didn't waste any time, either. Chock full
of adrenaline, I was through the dark woods in a few seconds. I
tossed Mitch and Maxi's limp bodies down by the train tracks, not
caring about their conditions other than not killing them. With the
same strength borne of fear, I launched them up the other
embankment. A line of crops probably got fucked up when I dragged
the two bodies across the field.
Paranoid of seeing orange eyes back in the
tree line, I threw the couple into the back of the truck and got
the hell out of there. Once back into suburbia, I pulled over on
the side of a highway to take a few deep breaths and calm down.
Downing half my flask helped.
Hoping Viggo wasn't down below where there
wasn't any reception, I called his cell as I drove. He answered on
the second ring and, in vague terms, told me to meet him at the
condemned apartment building where I brought that Realm security
guy.
Viggo and the minion Runa were waiting for me
when I came in the back entrance. He sent her to bring Mitch and
Maxi in, and then pointedly looked at my shirt. I told him I was
okay and that I wouldn't take anyone for granted again. Then I
described the short scene with Fletcher. "I knew your kind didn't
like fire, but . . . damn."
"Those with loose control of their emotions
tend to have stronger reactions to it - a survival instinct, if you
will. I have had time to temper my own reaction to fire, enough to
garner some modest skill with the Gift of Flames. Lighting a
fireplace, as I did at the Gathering, is nearly the extent of my
ability."
"It was still pretty impressive, sir. Nearly
everyone in the room took two steps back."
"It had the intended effect," Viggo said to
finish the topic. "You have done well by me for your work this
evening, Leo. Some time away from duties has been earned; five
nights should do. Feel free to take your leave. Runa will assist me
with the questioning of Mr. Fletcher's minions."
"I could help you question them if you'd
like, sir," I offered. "I have some experience with
interrogation."
"That will not be necessary, Leo. With the
information you have gathered," he stated formally as always, "not
many questions need to be answered. Nonetheless, I like to be
thorough."
"Well, I'm sure Runa has better things to do
for you than clean up afterwards," I countered, hoping I didn't
come off as petty and jealous. "I can take care of that, no
problem."
Our conversation was paused when Runa dragged
Mitch past us and into an apartment. "While I am sure that you
could," Viggo continued, "Runa has been chosen to assist. She has
alternate methods of extracting information; some might consider
those methods unsavory, however effective they may be."
"You mean torture, sir?"
Viggo shook his head. "Not in the
conventional sense. Runa has honor, although her set of moral
priorities differ from the norm. I could just as easily intimidate
and coerce information out of a subject, but Runa has acquired the
Gift to sense the truth of things as well as her ruthless pursuit
of it."
She passed us again to go get Maxi out of my
truck. I waited until she was outside before I asked, "Would you
like me to learn how to do that as well?"
"If you so choose," he replied with a shrug.
"However, I still wish you to continue with your efforts of
learning the Gift of Fauna, as Clara suggested." I didn't know it
was her idea. "Do keep in mind that I have no ability with the Gift
of Discerning as I do with Fauna and others, so it will not come to
you easily. Extensive patience is needed for that endeavor."
"But it's still possible, right, sir? I mean,
Runa learned how."
Viggo waited to respond, letting Runa drag
the semi-conscious Maxi past us. When she was gone again, he
finally said, "Yes, she eventually learned how. It took her nearly
three hundred years."
VACATION
Viggo gave me my company credit card before I
left that night, and told me to pass along Gwen's and Traeg's as
well. It was late, and the events of that night left me a little
drained. I went home and hung out with Thunder, the TV, and a
strong drink. While thinking of what to do with my vacation time, I
fell asleep in one of the recliners in the lounge.
I made it over to my old house the next
morning to mow the lawn before the day really heated up, but not so
early that I'd wake Miss Loretta. While the mower whacked away at
the overgrown grass, I had an idea about getting out of the city
and going camping. I visualized an image of what it might've been
like, and felt myself relaxing just at the thought of it.
But then a pair of angry orange eyes invaded
the calm picture in my mind, glaring at me through the foliage.
Well shit, that idea soured fast. Even if I drove a hundred miles
out into the country, I would've been paranoid of Fletcher's hemo
wolf nose eventually picking up my scent. Ridiculous? Probably, but
I was not going to underestimate a supernatural bad-ass who wanted
to show me my own liver.
Alright, fine, a staycation (as Gwen called
it) sounded good, too. I started making a mental list of plans as I
finished up the lawn. When I was done mowing, Miss Loretta invited
me over for lemonade on her porch. Polite refusals did not work
with that woman.
Among other topics, Miss Loretta asked if I
was moving back in. When I said probably not, she told me to think
about renting it out; she had a niece who'd just landed a good job
downtown and wanted a place nearby. Renting - not a bad idea. I'd
call Viggo's business guy about it if I needed to.
Before I left, I suggested having another
grill party with a few of the neighbors in a couple days. I'd bring
a cooler of drinks, all the meat, and maybe a couple guests of my
own. Miss Loretta could have her niece come so we could discuss
renting my house. My charming, obese neighbor said she'd do the
inviting. I was looking forward to it.
In the early afternoon, I went out to
Traeger's Trading Post to return the surveillance gear. I gave him
his credit card, and then paid off the truck balance with mine. I
didn't like owing anyone, not even a cohort or friend or whatever
Traeg was. Maybe not 'friend' at that point, but we were off to a
good start.
In Traeg's office, I relayed the Fletcher
incident. When I told him the part about getting shot, he grinned
and called me a thin-skinned sissy. As for the invitation to the
cook-out, he said not to expect him because Saturdays were his
busiest days. We parted with a handshake and I got on with my
day.
Indulging a whim, I drove home, slammed a
stiff drink, and then took a nap. I didn't need one, but what the
hell. My dream was short, but I relived a good memory of riding in
my brother Al's new car (well, new to him) to a park where we threw
a football around. I woke up in a mellow mood, and didn't even care
that Thunder was hogging the pillow.
I hadn't been to Keegan's in a while. I
figured that if anyone was looking for me, they wouldn't consider
his bar one of my usual haunts anymore. There was a decent crowd
for a weeknight. Already in a good mood, the warm greeting from
Keeg and Deb, the staff, and a few regulars raised my spirits even
higher. I liked my solitude, but being surrounded by familiar and
friendly faces raised my morale. The drinks and shots they kept
buying me sure as hell didn't hurt, either.
Tanya was on the clock, but she gave me a few
seconds now and then to flirt with her. In my state of having a
nice buzz and being epically horny, I didn't much care if she was
currently dating someone or not. We left together after her shift.
She drove; I paid for the motel room. Regardless of all the drinks,
I luckily wasn't afflicted with whiskey-dick. We made the most of
it.
The next day, a Friday, I got together with
Gwen and Traeg for dinner at Shawn Riordan's old fire station
hideout. We decided to use that as our main location for meetings,
although we just got together that evening to shoot the shit. I
brought bags of food from the Wise Owl Wok, Traeg brought a cooler
full of drinks, and Gwen brought some weird dessert that I didn't
want to even look at.
Neither Gwen nor Traeg had time to hang out
for long, so I went back to Keegan's. No power-drinking for me that
night - just enough to keep a mild buzz. At one point, Mac the
doorman asked me to take over so he could hit the head. I took a
look outside and noticed a guy walking along the sidewalk on the
other side of the street. He was carrying a backpack, which wasn't
too odd, but the way he was sniffing the air like a dog was pretty
weird. I sniffed too, but didn't smell anything out of the
ordinary.
Deb's sister and a female friend stopped in
the bar that night; Keeg asked me to make sure no drunks hit on
them. When the two ladies were ready to leave, Deb asked me to
escort them to their car. As I walked them out, I saw that same guy
across the street. He was facing the bar, taking a big whiff of the
air. I walked the women into the parking lot next to the building,
wondering what kind of drug makes someone have olfactory
hallucinations.
Once Deb's sister and her friend drove off, I
went to go get another drink. I came around the corner of the
building and saw the backpack guy striding with purpose across the
street. He wasn't walking toward the front door of Keegan's, though
- he was coming straight to me.
He was about average height, but had a
big-boned, rangy look to him. He wore duck boots, tan cargo pants,
and a denim shirt; along with the backpack, he was dressed for
travel. In contrast to that, his lean face was pale. He had shorn
brown hair, dark eyes under bushy brows, a large hooked nose, and a
very thick mustache that was grown down to either side of his chin.
His expression was kind of intense, but not in an angry way. Then
again, he sure as hell didn't look like he was going to ask for
directions, either.
When the traveler stopped about ten feet
away, I asked, "Something I can do for ya, buddy?"
He sniffed one last time, and then said with
a slight accent I couldn't place, "Ancient blood - I smell ancient
blood." Dammit, why couldn't he have said no to my question and
just moved on? I had no idea who or what I was dealing with, but I
knew the human bloodhound wasn't going to leave me alone. "It is of
you, but not yours - a minion, yes?" he asked.
"How the fuck did you . . ." I paused when a
couple came out of the bar and passed between us. When they were
far enough away, I looked back at the bloodhound. "What do you want
from me?"
"Do you know what the veil is?" he asked.
When I nodded, he said, "Then you know I would be lifting it by
asking questions of one who is . . . uninformed. Do you
understand?"