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The Night's Champion Collection: A supernatural werewolf thriller trilogy

Page 28

by Richard Parry

“No. They’re going to kill you.”

  “I thought you said you were going to help with that.”

  “Great, you’re on board with the plan already.”

  “John—”

  “Don’t fight it.”

  “—People die around me. I—”

  John waited.

  “I don’t want you to die.” Val’s shoulders slumped. “I don’t want anyone to die because of me. Not anymore. Not ever again.”

  “It wasn’t your fault.”

  “God damn it!” Val’s hand hit the table, causing the plates to jump. “She’s dead because of me!”

  John waved the girl behind the counter away, showing a quick blast of the megawatt smile. “She’s dead because life’s shitty. It’s not fair. Did you drive a car into her?”

  “I—”

  “Did you?”

  “I put her there!”

  John looked at Val’s plate. “You carried her into the middle of the street?”

  “Don’t push this.” Val’s shoulders hunched.

  “Or what?” John looked at him.

  “I…” Val’s finger’s clenched in front of him.

  He challenges us. We are alpha.

  “He’s my friend!” Val’s teeth were clenched.

  “What?” John’s eyes widened.

  “I’m not talking to you!” Val gripped the edge of the table in front of them, his fingers turning white. “Shut up! Just shut up!”

  John paused, then nodded. “It’s really fucking with you, isn’t it?”

  The air dragged in and out of Val in big gasping breaths. “It’s so strong. John, I—”

  “It doesn’t matter, buddy.” John picked up his knife and fork again. “I trust you. I’ve always got your back. And I know you’ve got mine. All I’m saying is — well. Rebekah was like a sister to me. I don’t blame you at all. You can work out what that means for yourself. Eat your breakfast.”

  Pack.

  Just like that, it was gone. Val let go of the edge of the table, looking at the cracked Formica where his fingers had been.

  John looked at the cracks. “So. If you hadn’t got a hold of it then. What would have happened?”

  “I don’t know.” Val sighed. He grabbed up his fork and started eating again. “It’s kind of new to me.”

  “Me too. You know, it’s not all bad.”

  “How’s that?” Val drained his cup, then topped them both up from the pot.

  “After this is over? We’ll get you into a circus.”

  “Go fuck yourself.”

  “Seriously. It’ll pay well. Anyway. What’s the play?”

  “I don’t know. I had it all worked out. But that was a solo job. How did you find me?”

  “It was pretty easy. I didn’t sleep last night. Followed you out this morning.”

  “Does … did Danny—”

  Pack mate.

  “—know you were going? Carlisle?”

  “No,” said John.

  “I guess that’s something,” said Val. “Okay. I like the beans.”

  “Good for you. So it’s just you and me.”

  “Yeah. They’re expecting me.”

  “Sure.”

  “They’re not expecting you.”

  “Two for two.” John looked at him over his fork.

  “Let’s keep it that way. Keep you out of sight. When I get a feel for it … I’ll signal you.”

  “How?”

  “You got a phone?”

  “Dial-a-Stud always has his phone.” John snared his cup from in amongst the plates on the table. “It’s like the Bat Signal.”

  “I won’t be needing a male escort. I just need you to have your phone,” said Val.

  John nodded. “Fair enough. Your loss.”

  “Right. Sorted.” Val let out a breath he didn’t know he’d—

  Pack stands with us.

  —been holding. It was good to have John here. No matter how crazy things got, he knew he could rely on John, even at the end of things.

  “What do we do until then?” John pushed his plate away.

  Val pushed his second empty plate away, pulling the third closer. “I say we keep eating.”

  • • •

  “I used to wonder how you became super-sized. I don’t wonder anymore.”

  “Keep your voice down.” Val looked at the map on his phone. “The place is just up ahead.”

  “Sure.” John grinned at him. “This is just like playing spies and shit, back when we were kids.”

  “Okay, Bond. You keep your spy craft quiet, and wait here.”

  “Copy that, Gold Leader.”

  “That’s Star Wars, not James Bond.”

  “Whatever.”

  The woods were cool, a quiet escape from the morning. The sun had come out, burning away Val’s doubts. The day was hot already, climbing into shorts and T-shirt temperatures. He was sweating through his new clothing — John’s idea — already.

  “No, really. Army surplus.” John had nodded to a store they’d walked past.

  “What?”

  “It’s practical. Not like that shit you’re wearing now.”

  “It’s not like Danny has an extensive men’s wardrobe at her place.”

  “I’m not saying it’s her fault. I’m saying you look like a hobo.”

  Like that, they’d kitted themselves out with more rugged clothing. John was wearing a digital camo sleeveless vest — Guns, bro — chicks dig the guns — and Val had opted for a simple black T. John had wanted to get some weapons too, but Val had talked him down. The way Val saw things, if they needed weapons they’d need something bigger than whatever could be grabbed over the counter at an army surplus store.

  If they needed weapons around Adalia, something had gone badly wrong, and that couldn’t be allowed.

  Google Maps showed him a generic forest — no Street View cars could get in here, that’s for sure. Val walked on ahead through the woods, his feet crunching on the forest floor. He wasn’t trying to keep his noise down — quite the opposite. Surprises were bad for everyone, and—

  A flash of fire. He swatted the puny thing aside, grabbing the man —

  —he didn’t want to be shot again. It didn’t matter what they’d said to him — being told you were a werewolf was one thing. Walking the walk was quite another.

  Val stepped into a large clearing. A helicopter sat — that might be a wee fly in the ointment — silent and empty, in the center of the clearing. A man was seated on a fallen tree, wearing a cashmere sweater and slacks. He started upright as Val walked through the trees.

  “Uh.” The man swallowed a couple of times. “Mr. Everard?”

  “Sam.”

  “Ah.” Sam’s forehead was sweaty. “Yes.”

  “I appreciate you doing this.”

  “You — you do?”

  “Sure.” Val smiled, showing teeth. “You’ve taken a hell of a risk.”

  Crush it. It has our cub—

  “But,” said Val, flexing his hands, “you know that already.”

  Sam swallowed again. “I assure you, Adalia is quite all right. For now.”

  “Now that’s just plain nasty, Sam.” Val let his teeth show some more, but it had stopped being a smile. “Why would you say something like that? We could have such a good thing going on here. You know, I get a bit unpredictable — jumpy, almost — when I get angry these days. I’m under a lot of stress.”

  “I only meant…” Sam started again. “I meant that we’ve taken good care of her.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.” Val clapped a big hand on Sam’s shoulder, hitting him a bit too hard. Then he looked at his hand, pulling it back. “I’m sorry, Sam. I hate bullies myself, and this situation’s just bringing out the worst in me.” He offered his hand.

  Sam looked at it like it was a pit viper, then gingerly took it, returning the shake. “I’m pleased to meet you, Mr. Everard. I regret—”

  “Look, save it. It’s a shitty situation. I’m
here for one thing, and I bet you are too.”

  “Yes.” Sam nodded towards the helicopter. “Shall we?”

  “Sure.” Val walked towards the helicopter.

  “Mr. Everard.”

  Val stopped, turning. “Yes?”

  “I mean it.” Sam looked at his hand, still held out. “I really am sorry.”

  Val nodded. “Sure, Sam. So am I. But I appreciate you saying that. I’ll remember it.”

  “For what, Mr. Everard? I … Elsie … Ms. Morgan, that is—”

  “I know, Sam.” Val considered the man. “You’re a very loyal man.”

  “Ms. Morgan and I go back a long way.”

  We will destroy their Pack, tear it down—

  “Yeah.” Val clenched his teeth. “Sometimes we don’t get to choose, do we?”

  Sam looked at the forest floor. “No, Mr. Everard. Sometimes there’s no choice at all.”

  “I’m sorry, Sam.”

  Sam looked up at him. “What for, Mr. Everard?”

  Val smiled, but there was no joy in it. “For the way the day is going to end. Come on. Let’s get on. Got to pay the boat man.”

  Sam laughed. “You have no idea.”

  “What?”

  “She says that same thing.”

  “Well, that’s the only thing Elsie and I have in common.” Val grabbed at the door of the helicopter. He checked his phone, then dropped it in his pocket before hopping in.

  Sam took the pilot’s seat, putting on a headset and handing a similar one to Val. “You’re an honorable man, Mr. Everard. I’m sorry for the way the day is going to end too.”

  Val nodded, looking out at the forest edge. He couldn’t see John anywhere. Exactly as planned.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  John watched the helicopter take off through the trees, the beating of the rotors causing him to squint as bits of forest tried to get into his eyes. Despite having a physique that made heads turn, he never thought of himself as an outdoorsy type. There were insects and serial killers and, well, werewolves outside.

  It was best to stay inside.

  He fished his phone out of his pocket, tapping on Find My Friends. John had been nagging Val to get setup on the app for ages. It seemed all it took to get Val to do something was threaten the lives of people he cared about. Useful to know. The app tracked Val as the helicopter took him out over the forest.

  John shut the app down, then started to dial. A crack off to his left made his hand freeze.

  “Is not as planned?” The accent was thick, sounding like all the Russian mobster movie roles John had ever seen. John instinctively hunkered down against a tree.

  “No.” Spencer. John wouldn’t forget that voice in a hurry. The captain followed the big Russian into the clearing, checking his watch. “It’s not going according to plan. They were early.”

  “Ah. You should never trust a woman. I tell you this.” The Russian was familiar, and John squinted at him, trying to pick where he’d seen him before. His walk was slow, and he winced before he spoke again. “The past is behind us. We are friends now, you and I. But you do not listen to your friends.”

  “It’s fixable.” Spencer spat into the grass of the clearing. “It’s not good though. If she told me the wrong time, it means my position is compromised.”

  “What is this compromised word you use?”

  “She doesn’t trust me either.”

  “Ah. She is not your good friend, captain.” The big man stretched his side, a grimace crossing his face.

  “She’s my employer. I don’t know what it’s like in mother Russia, but we don’t usually get cozy with the boss.”

  The big man looked around the clearing, and John got a good look at his face. Fuck, he thought, It’s that janitor from the hospital. What are the odds? “Is not so different.”

  “Figures. Volk.” Spencer looked back at the big man — Volk. “You need to pay up.”

  Volk smiled. “Captain. It is not as simple. We are friends, of course. But we have deal.”

  “The deal was I help you kill Everard—”

  “Da. I remember. In return…” The man trailed off, looking at the sky. “They really flew. Is amazing, this world.”

  Spencer looked at the sky. “You’ve never seen a helicopter?”

  “Heli. Copter.” Volk tried the word on for size. “Angliyskiy words. I know what helicopter is. I have been away long time. Not that long.”

  Spencer frowned. “Whatever. Volk, we have a deal. If you don’t pay your half, I don’t pay my half. It’s as simple as that.”

  “Of course.” Volk walked up to Spencer, clapping him on the shoulder. “But you haven’t paid your half either. We are still even.”

  “I brought you to Everard.”

  Volk’s smile faded. “Do you take me for simple man?”

  “What?”

  “Because of Angliyskiy. My English is bad, I know this.”

  “No.” Spencer frowned. “Why do you ask?”

  “Xorošij.” Volk smiled again. “You brought me to here. To many trees.”

  “Forest?”

  “Da. Forest.” He beamed. “A new word. Is marvelous! But there is no one here.”

  “They just left!”

  “Da.” Volk nodded, gesturing around at the clearing. “No one here, no gift.”

  “Christ.” Spencer rubbed his face. “I figured you’d do it here, and we could deal with Everard together.”

  “Together?” Volk seemed to think about this. “No. We are good friends, Captain. We are not good enough friends to hunt together.”

  John could see Spencer’s jaw clench. “Christ. I don’t want to go big game shooting. I want to put that rabid dog down. He’s killed my men!”

  “Rabid?” Volk frowned. “I do not know this word.”

  “A disease. Sickness. Dogs get it.”

  “Ah, Captain.” Volk sighed. “This man you hunt—”

  “Everard.”

  “This man you call Everard, he is not a dog.”

  Spencer shrugged. “Looked like a dog to me.”

  “Hah. Reminds me of funny joke.” Volk cleared his throat. “Would you like to hear it?”

  “How do you know any English jokes?” Spencer checked his watch again. “You’ve been in a hole in the ground since baby Jesus walked the Earth.”

  “Da.” Volk grinned. “One of your men told it to me. On the way here.” The grin faded. “I think he thought to take my mind off the pain. He was the first to die for it.” The grin returned. “But I remember his joke.”

  John thought Spencer turned a little pale at that. “He died for it? The joke?”

  “No. The pain.” Volk shook his finger at Spencer. “You will understand, soon enough.”

  “When you turn me.” Spencer nodded. “I get it. No more silver jewelery. It doesn’t really go with the uniform.”

  “Turn?” Volk rubbed his chin. “I had not thought of it that way before.”

  “What would you call it?”

  “Bratstvo.”

  “What?”

  “I do not know English. Is bratstvo.”

  “Whatever. Call it what you like.” Spencer checked his watch again.

  “Why you check time? Is all same.”

  “In five minutes, it’ll be time for us to be here. When Morgan told me to be here.”

  “So?”

  “So. The bitch has probably set us up.” Spencer checked his sidearm, cocking it before putting it back in his holster. “I figure they’ll try and take us from up that hill.” He nodded towards where John was hiding. Christ, thought John, I’m going to have a bunch of soldiers up my ass. It’ll be worse than a prison shower.

  “Ah. I must tell joke then.”

  “What?”

  “Before they get here. Will spoil timing.”

  “Sure. Whatever.” Spencer scanned the tree line of the clearing. “We should get out of here.”

  “Relax. Your men only expect you.” Volk used a toothy grin
. “They will be surprised.”

  “They’d be more surprised if I wasn’t here.”

  Volk held up a hand. “No worry. No worry. Joke. During cold war, Mother Russia and America, not good friends. Not like you and me, da?”

  “Sure.”

  “So, they decide on contest. To end war. Very brave men die on both sides. I know American mothers cry for their children. Russian mothers cry too. Is good idea, for contest, rather than all those brave men dying.”

  “What was the contest?”

  “Ah. So contest was, find the best fighting dog. Put dog in ring, and best of three. Victor, they win.” Volk nodded, a solemn expression on his face. “Mother Russia, we have many strong dogs. Our best men try to breed a wolf with a bear, and succeed. Strongest fighting dog ever. Ferocious animal. Cannot be controlled.”

  “I get it. Looks like a dog, fights like a bear.”

  “Da! Very good, captain. You know this joke?”

  “No.”

  “Is good. Americans turn up for contest. Is held in neutral country. Švejcarija.”

  “Switzerland?”

  “Da. Švejcarija. Americans bring out dog, is long like a sausage, but very big. Dachshund. Many Russians laugh, thinking big joke. Dogs go into ring, and Russian dog is fierce. It leaps at American dog, there is snarling, there is biting.” Volk made slashing hand motions in the air. “In end, only one dog alive. First round, Russian dog is dead!”

  Spencer laughed. “No best of three?”

  “No best of three. So Russians say, ‘Our best men! They take three years to breed this dog. How did you beat us?’ And American man, he explain. Says that it took three years for their best plastic surgeons to make an alligator look like a dog.”

  Spencer snorted. “That sounds like us.”

  Volk frowned. “You do not get it.”

  “I get it. I’m just not laughing.”

  “No. You do not get why I tell joke. I tell joke because you say this man, Everard, he looks like a dog.”

  “Sure. Looked that way. Bigger, maybe.”

  “Ah. But on the inside? He is an alligator. If you try and fight him like a dog, you will die.”

  Spencer was silent for a few moments. “Fair enough.” He checked his watch again. “We should get out of here.”

  Volk smiled. “We go to finish this?”

  “Yes. I’ll take you to Everard. And you’ll give me…”

 

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