The Black Wolves of Boston (eARC)

by Wen Spencer

  "You're taking it so you won't hear Fred?" Joshua wondered if Fred would stay with her if Winnie couldn't hear him. Would Joshua still be a werewolf if he never turned into a wolf?

  When would he turn into a wolf? Decker said it wouldn't be during the full moon.

  "No. Fred is fine. He's been my best friend since I was three. We had marvelous tea parties. Of course---through high school---he was just about my only friend. Teenagers are so judgmental. It's that when you're open---you're open---and that's bad. Just about anything could walk in and set up shop. The lithium is barring the door against such things. But it screws up my normal gig. People hire me to talk to their relatives and such. Freshly dead are really still too freaked out about the whole 'dead' thing to contact unless you're barn door kind of open even with Fred herding them in my direction. Marie Antoinette? Easy peasy lemon squeezy to talk to. A real challenge to my high school French. I have no idea what she's doing in Boston of all places. But she's been dead long enough to know all the ins and outs. I'll be trying to get hold of someone's Aunt Gertrude and in pops Marie wanting to have tea and cake and talk about the latest dress fashions. One summer I put on twenty pounds because she kept taking me out to the Royal Pastry Shop on Cambridge Street. She's addicted to their cannoli and Italian rum cake."

  Channeling spirits was starting to sound extremely creepy to Joshua. "She just takes you over and makes you eat pastry?"

  "Yeah. Hard on the hips and hard on the wallet but basically harmless." Her lip quivered slightly. "Seeing a Marie Claire magazine nearly makes me cry thinking how lonely she must be. Everyone has closed up shop or moved out of Boston for the duration."

  "Duration of what?"

  She cut up more sausages. "Until the prince returns, Boston isn't safe for me to keep the doors wide open. There are dark things that can take me and hold me tight and I wouldn't be able to break free."

  "Who is the prince?"

  She paused and gave him an odd look. "You're a werewolf."

  "Yes. At least, I'm pretty sure I am. I haven't actually changed into a wolf yet. I'm just going on the assumption that since I was bitten by a werewolf that I'm one. I am---aren't I? At least, everyone keeps telling me that I am. I have gotten freaky strong and I keep growling. The first few times I did, I scared myself. I thought there was a wolf standing behind me."

  Winnie stared at him with big doe eyes. "Geez Louise! I thought I had it rough." She pulled a strand of purple hair to her mouth and nibbled at it for a minute, clearly thinking hard. She squinted, tilting her head, listening.

  The hair on Joshua's neck rose as he heard---murmuring under the Muzak playing "Witchy Woman"---the whisper of wind through leaves and the scrape of bone against wood. "Is-Is-Is that Fred?"

  "What? You can hear him? Jack could never hear him. Which was good since... Oh! Shoot!"

  "What's wrong?"

  "Oh, it always turns out that when I suddenly think about someone for the first time in ages---especially if I clearly remember exactly what they looked like---it usually means that something horrible happened to them." She sighed deeply. "Jack was always polite to me. Fred freaked him out so he rarely got close enough to be anything else. Oh my god, he was so good looking, even though he never seemed to know it. There was a secret cult among the girls that didn't know he was a werewolf. The rest of us knew it was pointless."

  "Because he was a monster?"

  "Oh no. Werewolves are kind of like good Jewish boys, only more so."

  "What does that mean? I'm from a small town. I don't know any Jewish people."

  "Werewolves only marry werewolves. Oh, I really hope he didn't die. That would suck. He really took the guardian shtick seriously. He didn't like Fred but he always made sure no one teased me. A total white knight in shining armor complete with steed; a Harley Iron 883. Oh God, he was so hot on it. I used to go to school early so I'd see him ride in." She closed her eyes and shivered. "The pulse of that big engine against my skin; it really tripped my trigger. I would have put out for him in a heartbeat."

  Joshua felt a blush burn its way up his face, all the way to his ears. He didn't have much experience interacting with women. There were the girls in his Judo classes and his sister; both of which were usually trying to hurt him. He really didn't know how to reply to that.

  Fred spoke again with a rustle of wind through invisible leaves and scratch of finger bones.

  "Oh! Jack told you to go to the prince? What are you doing here?"

  "I-I-I have not a clue. Shopping?"

  She stared at Joshua, wide eyed. The great shadow-that-was-not-a-shadow folded so it peered over her shoulder at him. There were notably darker points that seemed to be eyes.

  He found it very unnerving. "Yes, shopping. Getting toilet paper and such." He fished out the rolls as proof. "I should let you go back to work."

  "You really don't have a clue---do you?" she said.

  No? Yes? Which would get him into more trouble?

  "Maybe?"

  "Okay. That's it. I quit." She took out her phone and started to text someone.

  "Quit? Quit what? Quit your job? Don't do that!"

  She waved one hand to silence him. "This job bores me silly and you obviously need help. I'm letting them know I've got a family emergency and need to leave."

  "I'm shopping!" He waved the toilet paper roll violently.

  "Yes, I see. You can pay for that before we leave."

  "You can't just quit. You need money."

  "Oh! You're right." Winnie turned to face Fred. "I need money."

  The shadow darted away.

  "What's Fred going to do? Mug someone?"

  Winnie laughed. "No, no, he's just going to find---I don't know---whatever he finds. Let's go! It's almost noon already and I want to be home before dark." She lowered her voice. "They mostly come out at night. Mostly."

  * * *

  She stayed with him long enough to dump a dozen packages of Ho Hos into his cart and then disappeared. The smell of chocolate cake and crème made it impossible to take them back out. He picked up bread, peanut butter, packets of tuna fish, and some bananas as food that didn't need to be cooked.

  He was amazed at how expensive the few items in his cart were. He handed over the receipt from the coin machine and got six twenties as change back.

  Winnie suddenly appeared beside him to snatch one of the twenties from his hand. "I need to borrow this for a minute. Fred found something."

  "Hey!" He picked up his bags. "If Fred has money why do you need that? That's all the cash I have and it's not really mine."

  "This will just take a minute." She walked to a blue vending machine. The state of Massachusetts was outlined on the side with the words "The Lottery" written inside the lines. In a starburst above it was the word "Instant." As she fed the twenty into the bill acceptor, Joshua realized it dispensed scratch off lottery tickets.

  "Wait! No! What are you doing?"

  "Getting money. Fred says that one of the tickets is a winner. Go on, hit a button."

  "What? Me? I don't know which one is the winner; Fred does!"

  "No, that's not how it works. For me, it's a random chance, one in a hundred million to win, or something like that. For you, it's not. You're governed by fate."

  "What if it's not my fate to win?"

  "There's a dozen places you could have gone to buy food, but you came to this store while I was working here. A mere four-hour window. You were fated to meet me: someone who knows Jack. If you hadn't met me here, you would have met me someplace else. I might have run you over in the street or something. So you're obviously fated to meet me. I can only help you if I can leave work, which requires me to have money. You need to win money for me so I can help you."

  He stared at her, dismayed and bewildered by her logic. Surely this was not how the universe worked.

  She pointed at the machine with both hands. "Push a button!"

  He turned to eye the machine. Why was it harder to believe in fate than believin
g in werewolves, vampires and spirit guides? The tickets were all expensive; some were twenty dollars apiece.

  Was it fate that he'd met Winnie or pure coincidence?

  Only really one way to find out. He stabbed the button for a Mega Fortune ticket that cost twenty dollars.

  "I'll cash this in and I'll give your money back." Winnie fished around in the vending slot and pulled the ticket out. "How do you play this one? Okay you scratch these and these and... Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god."

  She started to bounce up and down.

  That looked like they'd won. He glanced back to the machine to see what the ticket paid. The top prize was ten million dollars.

  "No frigging way," Joshua whispered.

  Winnie started to squeak as she bounced like a giant squeaky toy. Suddenly she gripped him tightly by both shoulders. "This means fate put us together! With super glue! It's like we're star crossed. It must be super-duper important that I help you!"

  6: Seth

  "Ithaca" had been a random collection of data to Seth. He knew it was a small college town, home of Cornell University, and stable enough not to need a werewolf alpha to keep the area safe. He wasn't prepared for how remote the town was. After hours of winding his way through darkness on what seemed to be back roads claiming to be major highways, he dropped down a long, steep hill into the tree-lined center of town. The city had been built in the flat valley beside a large lake. Everything seemed clean, neat, moneyed and peaceful.

  At the first red light, he closed his eyes and focused on his cousin.

  He had guessed horribly wrong. Jack wasn't in Ithaca. Jack was somewhere far away in the northeast. Weaker. Closer to death.

  "Shit!" Seth leaned back in his seat, rubbing at his eyes with the heels of his hands. What the hell should he do? He couldn't even guess how far away Jack was. It could be hundreds of miles. He'd already driven nearly five hours in the wrong direction. At this rate, it could take him a day or more to slowly triangulate where Jack was.

  A car came up behind him and beeped. The light had turned green.

  He drove through the empty dark streets. He needed to find Jack quickly.

  At the first empty parking lot, he pulled in and parked. Bishop's number got him an "all connections are busy" message. He ran through the phone numbers of all the Thanes with Alexander. Fifteen identical results. He checked the newsfeeds for Belgrade. The city was in chaos. The humans thought that an unused transit tunnel under the city had collapsed, taking out dozens of buildings. Hundreds were dead and fires were burning unchecked in the bohemian neighborhood of Skadarlija.

  Bishop had come to Ithaca to talk to the police. Seth was going to do the same thing.

  * * *

  His phone directed him to a stark white stone building with the words "Hall of Justice" written over the door in giant letters. He sat in the idling Porsche staring at the entrance. The dozen squad cars confirmed that it was the police station.

  "Seriously? Hall of Justice?" He snorted as the image of the Justice League's headquarters flashed through his mind. "I am Batman."

  He could use a few super friends. And one of his uncle's flaming Mexican coffees or something. He was so tired he was getting silly. And someplace to park. There wasn't any street parking and all the lots within sight had signs reading: police vehicles only. It would be a stupid move to illegally park in front of a police station. He'd be stranded if they towed the Porsche instead of just ticketing it.

  He rolled down the window and called out to a police officer walking toward the building. "Officer? Where's a legal place to park?"

  He was tired. The police officer was a tall, wide-shouldered woman with a pixie haircut.

  She walked cautiously to the side of the Porsche, eyeing him with suspicious. "Does your father know you've got his baby?"

  "My father is dead. This is my car." He lied about the second part.

  She blushed but didn't apologize. "There's a parking garage across the bridge." She pointed down the street toward a narrow ravine. "I'm sure your fancy car would have found it if you asked it."

  "I was looking for the police department," Seth said. "I want to talk to someone about a stolen car."

  "Well, you found it. Come back after you park your car." She glanced at her wristwatch. It was a rugged military-grade timepiece. "I come on shift in fifteen minutes."

  The parking garage had a vending machine selling Monster energy drinks. Yawning, he debated the flavors. Mean Bean Java Monster? Anti-Gravity Monster Energy Extra Strength Nitrous Technology? What the hell was "Nitrous technology"? He fed in a fistful of coins and two rumpled dollar bills and punched the top button. Nothing happened. He checked the digital display. Yes, he'd put in enough money. He pushed the second button. Third. All the buttons.

  "Give me the damn can!" He punched the machine. It rocked to the side. He caught it as it started to fall. "Don't! Stop that!" He shook it hard. With a nervous rattle, it dropped three cans out of the slot. Two of them rolled across the floor in a desperate bid to escape.

  Seth righted the machine. His father had warned him there would be days like this. His father had warned him of a lot of things. "When you're Prince of Boston..." It was mostly useless advice now. "You will need to be firm but respectful with your uncle. He was a Thane but you will be the prince." His uncle was dead. "Your little brothers will push your patience, but you must protect them from everything, including your own anger." His brothers were also dead.

  His father said nothing about Jack, because Jack left Boston to serve the king once he came of age. The last three years had been hard on the Thane, trying to be at once father and older brother to a boy he couldn't hope to control.

  If Seth lost Jack, he'd be utterly alone.

  Despair rushed through him so strong he wanted to howl. He accidently crushed the can he'd picked up. Luckily it was a non-carbonated coffee. The cold dark liquid poured through his fingers. "Oh freaking hell." He dumped the leaking can into a nearby trashcan and chased down the cans that rolled to freedom.

  "Hold it together for the police," Seth muttered. He cracked open the second can of iced coffee. "Going full out wolf will only make them shit their pants."

  Scaring people was a lot less useful than it sounded.

  * * *

  The female officer's desk placard read "Freja Kjeldsen." From the back, her wide shoulders made her look male. From the front, she had the chin of a linebacker and a flat chest. He suspected that she didn't give a shit that people mistook her for a man, otherwise she wouldn't cut her dark hair so short. On the left side of her neck, she had a long-legged spider tattoo. Wasn't there some spider monster boss in a video game with the name Freja?

  She ignored him after a glance at her wristwatch. She apparently wasn't on duty yet. He locked down on a growl of impatience. He didn't want to stand there waiting if she couldn't help him. "Officer Kjeldsen, I need to talk to someone about a stolen car."

  She glanced at her wristwatch and grunted. Her shift must have started as she pulled her keyboard toward her. "Name?"

  "Seth Tatterskein."

  "Can you spell that?"

  Seth did and then realized that she was entering it into a form. "I'm not reporting a car stolen. You recovered a stolen car? It was found in a lake?"

  She frowned. "Wait. Tatterskein? Are you related to Gerald Tatterskein?"

  "He was my father. Someone with the Ithaca police department called my lawyer and said..." And Seth suddenly realized why the police called Bishop. He'd assumed that the car had been stolen recently and one of the three local wolf packs were involved. There was only one reason, though, why his father's name would be brought up.

  "You found a '96 Dodge Viper? Black? Custom gold pinstriping with a wolf head front panel, driver's side?" Seth had charged Jack's phone during the drive. He took it out, entered the password and opened up the photo album. The Viper was the first picture in Jack's album. "This one?"

  She frowned at the picture. "Yes, that's t
he car. Divers found it in the lake mid-September. What do you know about this car?"

  He opened his mouth and then remembered his father had killed two people the day that the Viper had been stolen. What had Bishop told the police? "My lawyer was here; Edward Bishop of King's Law. Didn't he explain?"

  "He's your lawyer? He talked to our Lieutenant Townsend." She cleared her computer screen. "He's head of the investigative division. He's not in today."

  In other words, Seth was going to have to wait until tomorrow.

  "Please. My cousin is missing." He flipped through Jack's photo album to find one of Jack's selfies. The first picture Seth found was of both of them in Times Square. "This is him. Jack Cabot. He left New York City after talking to Bishop about the Viper. Something has happened to him." Because he couldn't explain how he knew, Seth added, "No one has heard from him since Friday morning. Did he come here to follow up?"

  He thought she would dismiss him as an alarmist. It had been only forty-eight hours since Jack walked out of the Castle, not a huge amount of time for a grown man, considering the driving distances involved. She studied the picture longer than necessary, linebacker jaw flexing. She knew something and was considering tactics.

  "I would remember him," Officer Kjeldsen said finally. "He didn't come here. Have you called your lawyer?"

  "He's in Belgrade. I haven't been able to reach him. There was some kind of disaster---part of the city is on fire---and it's taken out all communication lines. Why? Did something happen to my cousin?"

  "I really can't answer any of your questions..."

  "My entire family was killed in a house fire three years ago while I was visiting Jack in New York City." That was the official explanation of his family's massacre. "He's all I have left. I need to find him, make sure he's okay. I'm afraid he might be hurt."

  She sat for a minute, staring at him and tapping her pencil on her desk. "I'll do an information trade. You first."