The Frenzy War (15 page)

“Uh-oh,” Karol said as she turned down the narrow street.

Willy saw two gleaming white vans and an unmarked SUV parked before, behind, and beside a cargo van, forming a barrier around the vehicle. Hector Rodriguez and Suzie Quarrel stood smoking on the sidewalk across the street, their own van parked farther down the block.

Karol double-parked in the first space she could, and she and Willy got out and walked over to the CSU detectives.

“What's going on?” Willy said.

Hector nodded at the scene across the street. “Federales. They declared jurisdiction and kicked us to the curb like a couple of bad TVs.”

Willy saw four men in green jumpsuits scurrying around the cargo van. A man and a woman dressed in black suits
crossed the street. Willy recognized the two FBI agents.

“Detectives, I'm afraid you'll have to stand on the sidelines until we've completed our forensics.” The woman flashed her FBI identification. “I'm Special Agent Norton, and this—”

“I know who you are,” Willy said.

“You do?”

“Two years ago, you jumped ship on an investigation you should have helped. Now you're taking over a case. Why the change of heart?”

“Ah,” Norton said. “You worked under Mace.”

“My partner was killed by the Manhattan Werewolf. You could have helped us catch the perp, and you didn't.”

“You don't know what you're talking about,” the man said.

“I wasn't talking to you. I was talking to the lady.”

“I'm sorry about your partner,” Norton said.

“Thanks.”

“We have our job to do, and as soon as we've done it, you can do yours.”

“How about we save some time, and you just share whatever you find with us?”

“I can't commit to that right now. Maybe later. We've already been in touch with Captain Aiello.” Norton glanced at Suzie and turned around. Her partner followed her back to the vans.

“She remind you of anyone?” Hector said.

“Yeah,” Willy said. “Only Patty was rougher around the edges.”

“And Patty wasn't gay,” Suzie said.

“What do you want us to do?” Hector said.

“What she said: wait, then do your job. Give us a call when you get in there. Come on, Karol.”

As they returned to their car, Karol said, “You think those feds will leave anything for Hector and Suzie to find?”

“Not a chance.”

“For someone who doesn't want this case, you sure seem territorial.”

“They're not here to work the case. They're here to cover up any substantial evidence they find. Our job just got even harder.”

Rhonda turned her head from side to side, the ceiling coming into focus. The pattern of corrosion in the pipes appeared different, and she knew they had moved her to a different room. Something had been attached to her face from her nose to under her chin, and straps encircled the back of her head.

A muzzle!

Flat on her back, she felt cold metal against her skin. She tried to sit up, but pressure on her chest held her in place. She attempted to raise her arms, then her knees, but they would not budge. Raising her head, she looked over her naked body. Four thick leather straps, each one four inches wide, secured her to a stainless steel table. Smaller straps held her wrists and ankles. She tried to press her shoulders against the strap closest to her head, but she could not move. A frustrated growl escaped her throat as she allowed her head to bang down on the metal surface. Being strapped to a table was far worse than being chained in a cell. What
the hell did they have planned for her now?

Dissection?

She wanted out. The desire to Change welled up inside her, but rationality won out: she would not be any less trapped in Wolf Form.

The door opened and her three captors returned. This time, their tranq guns remained holstered. The black man carried a leather pouch, though. The woman closed the door and joined the two men at the table. The Caucasian male— the leader, she had concluded—circled the table. She heard a clicking sound, and then the end of the table on which her head rested rose without noise so that her body faced the Torquemadans at an angle.

Some sort of hydraulic mechanism,
she thought. Her eyes darted to each of her captors. They regarded her with what looked like revulsion. Her frightened breathing sounded louder within the confines of the muzzle.

The leader nodded to the black man, who set his pouch down on a small table. Peeling back Velcro straps, he revealed a set of gleaming scalpels.

Rhonda's heart pounded in her chest.

Removing a scalpel, the black man nodded at the woman.

“A demonstration.” He approached Rhonda, who focused on the scalpel. “Call me Henri. I want you to know who I am. I want you to have a name to curse as I take you apart.”

Rhonda wanted to scream.

Henri looked her body up and down, as if searching for a sensitive spot. He tapped the scalpel in the palm of his free hand. Then he brought his arm up, the scalpel reflecting
light even in the gloom.

Rhonda pressed the back of her head against the slab as the blade slashed down, opening her torso in an angle that ran from above one breast to below the other. Blood spurted out at the man's face and chest, and his features assumed a rapturous expression.

Rhonda found her scream.

T
wo and a half dozen men and women, representing different neighborhoods from the boroughs of New York City, sat in the Domini Funeral Home's viewing room. They wore dark suits and black dresses, as if in mourning, and sat on folding chairs with padded cushions.

Gabriel walked to the front of the room, a closed casket on the pedestal behind him, followed by Raphael, with Lawrence and Leon standing along the walls like sentries. Gabriel raised his hands and the whispering voices faded out. He measured the faces staring back at him and saw many emotions but mostly apprehension.

“Thank you for coming on such short notice,” he said.; “We've obviously got a situation on our hands that can't wait.”

Bennett Jones, a grocer from Staten Island, rose. “This is all your fault. You should have closed down Synful Reading
after your sister left the country. It was foolish to leave it open. Now look what it's gotten us.”

Some of the Wolves muttered their agreement, and Gabriel felt Raphael's anger rising.

“Would I ever tell you what to do with your business? Synful Reading's been in my family for forty years. It's an institution in that neighborhood.”

“That's the problem. It's too well known, especially after that so-called reporter wrote his book about the Berserker.” Bennett returned to his seat.

The Berserker was a term the Greater Pack had used to describe Janus Farel before they learned his true identity, Julian Fortier.

Gabriel kept his tone even. “I won't argue this point. You may be right.”

Saphire Kuda, a gypsy who ran a flower shop in Washington Heights, stood. “I just want to know one thing: Are these killers Torquemadans?”

Gabriel saw bodies tightening before him. “For now, we have to assume so. They killed Jason Lourdes and abducted Rhonda Wilson, then killed Rodney and Jen Lourdes, Tim Riegert, Kyle Chadler, and Samuel Minsky.”

“And burned down Rodney and Jen's house,” a gray-haired man named George Allen said without standing. Allen, who represented the Upper East Side, had been an advisor to Angus Domini, Gabriel's father, when Angus had led the pack before Gabriel.

“Every Wolf who's been executed so far has been decapitated. The police have determined that a sword killed
Jason. After seeing the body, I concur. Five decapitated Wolves in one location suggest at least five swords.”

Murmurs became gasps.

Anne Wong from Prospect Park half rose. “Five Blades of Salvation?”

“In all likelihood, yes. But not necessarily. Any sword could do the job if it was strong enough, and if its wielder knew that decapitation is the easiest way to kill us. But the methodical nature of the attack, coming less than a day after Jason was killed, indicates a team of individuals with combat training and knowledge of our society. I fear the worst.”

The voices in the room rose once more, and Gabriel raised his hands in a placating gesture. “These assassins aren't our only problem. Raphael and I saw Jason's corpse. He had begun to Change when he was killed. His face had just started to alter its shape. My sources confirm the corpse—and the five carcasses of the others—were sent to Quantico, the FBI's headquarters in Virginia. There's no way for us to recover the remains as we have in the past or to destroy them. Just as we have to assume our enemies are Torquemadans, we have to assume the government of this country is becoming aware of our existence.”

Eyes widened and jaws opened.

There, it's out,
Gabriel thought.

Joe Sevin, a tall black Wolf with salt-and-pepper hair, stood. “If the Torquemadans left Jason's head behind when they took Rhonda—”

“Then they didn't care if they exposed us or not. They may even desire that exposure to cause such a panic in this
city that it's harder for us to mount an offense against them.”

“What about Rhonda?” Anne said, rising all the way.

Joe settled into his seat.

“Again, all we can do right now is speculate. They didn't kill her; they took her prisoner, which means they have a use for her.”

“To torture her until she gives us all up,” Manny Moses, a white-haired lawyer from Long Island said, jumping to his feet. “That girl will be the end of us.”

“I have faith in Rhonda,” Gabriel said. “But finding her
is
a priority.”

“Two years ago, we worried about the Berserker exposing us. Now,
this”

Cecilia Perez, a pediatrician from the Bronx, stood up at the same time as Patrick Reily, a housepainter from Astoria. Patrick motioned for Cecilia to speak first.

“If the Torquemadans identified Rhonda and Jason just because they worked at the bookstore, then they also must know you and Raphael are Wolves. This funeral home is probably under observation.”

“You're probably right. That's why we had you all come here dressed as if you're attending a service.”

“They could still follow us when we leave …”

“They could, but there are thirty of you.”

“It was reckless of you to summon us here like this.”

“I didn't want to take a chance on exposing a safe location.”

“So you took a chance on exposing us instead. Thanks a lot.” Cecilia sat with her jaw clenched.

“They must suspect every one of your workers is one
of us,” Patrick said. “And then there are mutual contacts among us: shared doctors, lawyers, dentists … Every connection puts each member of the Greater Pack in danger. And if the Torquemadans don't have the resources to make those connections, the FBI will.”

He's right,
Gabriel thought.

Before he could comment, Eddie appeared at the back of the room.

“What is it?” Raphael said.

“Someone's here to see Gabriel,” Eddie said. “One of us. But a stranger.”

Gabriel glanced at Raphael, who raised his eyebrows. “I'll be right back.”

Heads turned as Gabriel followed Eddie out of the chamber.

“What's his name?” Gabriel said as he and Eddie crossed the corridor.

“He wouldn't give it to me. He said you're the only one he'll speak to.”

Rounding the corner, Gabriel saw through the glass front doors a tall man standing beside David outside. As he and Eddie neared the door, David turned in their direction and the stranger did the same. Gabriel had never seen him before.

“Let him in,” Gabriel said, stopping outside the office.

David opened the door, and the strange Wolf entered the lobby. He had short, curly black hair, and Gabriel sensed kinship with him because of something in his eyes: the burden of leadership.

“I'm Gabriel. Who are you?”

The Wolf stood before Gabriel. “My name is Elias Michalakis.”

Valeria watched as Henri used a rag to wipe the blood away from Rhonda's torso. Rhonda's head quivered, her eyes wild, and sweat trickled down her face like teardrops. Valeria feared the young woman was about to transform again. Then she blinked at Rhonda's body. Her flesh was smooth and undamaged, with no sign of the deep gash Henri had inflicted. Valeria had read about the beasts' healing powers in reports, but seeing them in action caused her to feel awe. Why had God granted such abilities to these unholy monsters?

“You see?” Henri said.

Valeria nodded.

Michael moved closer to Rhonda. “We don't want you to talk. If we did, we wouldn't have muzzled you. For now, we just want you to know that we mean what we say. We don't make idle threats.”

He held out one hand, and Rhonda lowered her eyes to see it. Henri withdrew a second scalpel and set its handle in Michael's open palm. The two men stood on either side of their prisoner, scalpels raised.