Falling Silver

by Anne Maclachlan

“This is helping, thanks.” She raised her mug to him. “Sorry about the back seat.”

  “Can’t be helped. Thought you were pulling another fast one.” Adam stood with his back to the fire. “You are just determined to get killed by a Howler, aren’t you? Do you want to know what he did to those diner ladies first, before he killed them very slowly? Because I’ll tell you.”

  “Hey, now, Adam,” Reese looked slightly shocked. “I think the lady can guess.”

  Karina’s look said it all, as the flash of a dripping gold claw came into her vision, seeking, slashing.

  Reese took the tipping mug from her hands. “That’s enough, Adam, come on now.” He turned back to Karina. “That Howler won’t get to you here. There’s a dozen of us, heck. And to bring you back, we backtracked, crossed tracks, sprayed, oh sorry.”

  The green tinge was returning to Karina’s cheeks.

  Adam picked the lecture up, “I mean this, Miss Redfeather. I’ve been after Vertigo for years. Many years. He doesn’t wait for the moon. He’s out there, and he’s coming for you, either as mad wolf or maniac human. He’ll keep you and …”

  Reese looked at her sympathetically.

  Adam continued, “Look. Sounds like your cousin is a decent guy, at heart. But the wolf has his soul now, and it will just get worse.”

  To her horror, Karina began, “But you’re wrong! It isn’t like that,” but caught herself and managed, “But you’re wrong, about Simon; he isn’t what you’re saying. He’s not a … werewolf.”

  “Honey,” Adam sat down next to her. “I’m exhausted. You’re exhausted. Your cousin’s a werewolf.” And I’ll be damned if he’s really your cousin, he thought.

  Watching Karina, Reese stood up and changed the subject. “All this pepper spray makes me want some hot chili. You up for that yet, Ma’am?”

  “No, thanks, Reese. I’ll be fine by tomorrow, though.”

  Adam’s ice-blue eyes looked almost straight through her. “Careful, there, McConnell, the sweeter she is, the closer she is to jacking your car.”

  Reese flashed a broad smile on his way to the kitchen. “You must be plotting all the time, then, Ma’am.”

  It was difficult to dislike Reese, in spite of the silver patch, the gleaming bullets in his belt and the wolf’s ears he carried.

  So she turned her attention to Adam. “I hear the only way to kill one is to immolate it.”

  “Pretty much, yes.”

  “So is that why there’s no evidence that they exist?”

  “Yep, pretty much.”

  “No trace at all?”

  “Never has been.”

  “So … those wolf ears are pretty much an affectation, then? Pretty much?”

  Adam leaned in close, “I swear. I am going. To feed you. To that thing. When it gets here.”

  “Well,” sighed Karina, sweetly, “then I hope all your backtracking, crossing, spraying and cleaning out the back of your fancy vehicle was worth it.”

  She called a cheery good night to Reese as she strolled into the bedroom, plotting her next move with a ferocity that might have startled even Vertigo.

  Through the long night, as he tossed on the sofa, Adam tried to imagine Karina as an ugly old maid. It didn’t help. She was probably going to be one of those coolly elegant octogenarians with scorching eyes, the sort of woman who uncovered your soul and painted it onto your own skin as a canvas.

  He threw a cushion and beaned McConnell, who was snoring loudly in his sleeping bag in front of the fire, and listened for any similar rasping sounds that might emanate from the bedroom. Nope. She evidently slept like an angel.

  He tried to stop thinking about what she was wearing in there, focusing instead on the rancid task she’d left him in the back seat of the car. She honestly hadn’t meant to, though, and her distress was undeniable. He’d sent her inside with Reese, battling the urge to hold her until the trembling stopped.

  Well, this was useless. Even though the place was monitored, trap-rigged, Silverized and alarmed, even though there were ten other trained Hunters camped out on the property, with Vertigo on the loose — in any shape — Adam was going to be happier trusting his own senses. He got up grumpily, huddled under a poncho and went out to sit on the porch with his rifle until dawn.

  In the morning, Karina awoke to the comforting scent of brewing French roast, though for an unsettled moment, could not recall where she was.

  She dressed as quickly as she could, and startled Reese in the hallway near her bedroom door with a mug of coffee in his hand.

  “Oh! Well, good morning, Ma’am. Coffee?” He stepped back into the living room and placed the mug on the long table in front of the sofa, next to what appeared to be half of a chocolate bar. “I thought you might want a little chocolate this morning,” he began shyly, and went to retrieve his own coffee from the kitchen.

  “Thank you,” Karina smiled, “a little chocolate never goes wrong.”

  Reese grinned, “There you go plotting again, I guess.”

  “Where’s Adam?” Karina twisted and scanned the room.

  “Outside. I reckon he’ll take care of Vertigo when he gets here. One of us will,” he shook his head, grimly. “This is kinda Hunter HQ now.”

  Karina counted on fixing that little problem soon enough, and nibbled the dark cocoa bar. “Thanks for this.”

  “Oh, well … my sisters — I’ve got all sisters — I know that’s what they want if they — when they — at that time of — ”

  “It’s perfect,” Karina rescued him, smiling. “Exactly what I needed.”

  “Forgot about that until I was half finished,” Reese added, his blush fading.

  “How many sisters do you have?” Karina studied the young Hunter. He might be about five years younger than she, enough to feel the need to call her Ma’am, she supposed.

  “Well, now …” Reese said softly. “Well, Ma’am, I had three. But there’s just two now.”

  “Oh, Reese, I am sorry.”

  “Ma’am.”

  They were quiet for a moment, listening to the birds’ delight in the new, wet morning.

  “Ma’am?”

  Karina sipped her coffee and nodded encouragement. He was really sweet, this kid. How on earth did he get mixed up with the Hunters?

  “It was Vertigo, Ma’am.”

  “Sorry, what?”

  “Vertigo took her. She was our little sister, just fourteen, and -”

  “Oh, Reese. Oh, Reese, I am so sorry.”

  “I’m gonna get him; I am, you know. I’m gonna tear that — ”

  They jumped as the door opened to Adam, who shook off his poncho and walked silently to the kitchen.

  Presently he returned, his own large dose of caffeine in hand. He nodded to Karina and reminded Reese that it was his watch. A watch was superfluous, the two men knew, but it gave them something to do.

  Adam gave it a try. “Have you eaten yet? Eggs sound good? Even with chocolate?”

  Who are you and when were you sprinkled with pixie dust, Karina wondered.

  “Look,” Adam explained, “we are all going to be here for a while. We might as well make the effort.”

  “You are not going to be here for a while. But thank you for making the effort.”

  “You can’t leave, and we won’t. He’s coming for you, can’t you get that through your head?”

  “I am not going to curl up and wilt while you do whatever it is you think you’re doing to save the world.”

  “Damn it! What don’t you see?!”

  Reese’s voice drawled through the open window, “Y’all don’t make me come in there.”

  Adam’s voice dropped to a hiss. “Did McConnell not just tell you what happened to his little sister?”

  “So you have to take that out on everybody else? I’m sorry about Reese’s sister, and the Diner Ladies, and everything! But Vertigo is a psychopath.”

  “Sociopath,” corrected Adam.

  “What. Ever.” Karina could have smacked
him for bringing out the 13-year-old in her. “And you? You’re in it for the what, the glory? The, the wolf ears, is that it?”

  “We’re through here.”

  “Good. I’ll help you get packed, or I’ll go myself.”

  “Reese! Don’t let the lady leave.”

  “A’ right!”

  Karina declared that she needed a shower and Adam retreated to the task of frying eggs and bacon, sulking.

  It was going to be a long month, he realized.

  Fish and

  House Guests

  “A month!!” By the end of the day, Karina had insisted that she needed to sit out on the porch for some fresh air, at least, as the rain had cleared. She eyed the setting sun.

  “We’re sticking around for your safety, Ma’am,” Reese’s genuine concern was evident. Adam Hunter must have some slick brainwashing skills in this organization indeed. “Ma’am, Vertigo is after you and we are the only ones who can look out for you.”

  “This is my house! You can’t stay and you can’t keep me here. I’ve got a business to run! I have two commission meetings coming up next week.”

  “Well …” Reese was nonplussed. “I mean, the whole team’s looking out for you and your business. And this here is all Silverized, ain’t it. All of it is. Even the trees, now. Heck, Ma’am, nothing can get in here.”

  “Well, Reese. Thank you. You’ve been very kind.”

  Karina allowed the front door to slam as she returned to her room, and in short order had restocked her bag. She would put some distance between herself and her house, then call the state police and let them know her property had been taken over by a bunch of nut cases looking for Bigfoot.

  “There are bears out there,” drawled Adam from the bedroom doorway where he’d silently been leaning. “If you aren’t worried about Vertigo or desRosiers, you might consider the temper of an angry mama with her cubs. Moon or no moon.” He stepped into the room and took it all in.

  Karina dropped her bag onto the bed. “But using me as bait for your Junior Rangers Brigade is just fine, though? I see. Thanks, cowboy.”

  Adam stood aside as Karina pushed past him to get into her closet. “Reese says you’re worried about your commissions next week.”

  “What are you planning to do about that, Tex? Drive me to Duluth?”

  “I will, actually. I wouldn’t let you near a bicycle right now.”

  Karina halted. “You will?”

  “I will. Personally. Because I looooooove your work.”

  “But you’re still making me bait. You figure Vertigo will find me no matter where I go, right? And that Simon will come back for me. Hah, especially with the news story. How do you live with yourself? Does the mirror help? Or is it the fan mail?”

  Adam did not take his cold eyes off hers.

  He reached into his shirt pocket and drew out a photograph, holding it up to her. The image was dated 12 years ago. In it, a young auburn-haired woman smiled, holding an absolutely adorable small boy whose eyes were remarkably like Adam’s. They were standing next to a tent that had been pitched on a lawn outside a Texas-style ranch house.

  “Take a good look.”

  A terrible chill crept through Karina’s toes and seeped into her bone marrow.

  “Your family …”

  “They were killed that same night. Adam Jr. wanted to play camping, so Mary Beth made up a little campsite in the yard.” He couldn’t go on.

  “Vertigo?”

  Adam’s jaw worked as he ushered her into the living room to sit on the sofa. He retrieved a manila envelope from a file on the bookcase and held it up. He’d composed himself somewhat, and spoke softly. “This is my last resort with you.”

  Moving next to her, he pulled out a series of photos and tossed them onto the coffee table. Karina didn’t know what she was looking at. Then objects took shape — a hand here, a shredded leg — she pushed them away, sickened.

  Adam shoved them back harshly. “Take a good look. You think that night when Deputy Moore was killed was rough? Look at it! Those were your Diner Ladies. That — ” he jabbed the photos that Karina couldn’t look at, “is what you are refusing to see! That,” he spat, “is what I found when I ran outside, when the screaming started, when the howls began, and I found my …” he was shaking violently. “My wife, and my baby.”

  Karina would have stood up if she’d been able.

  “Vertigo — ”

  “It doesn’t matter, woman! Vertigo, desRosiers, they’re all the same. Can’t you get that into your skull? They’re all the same!” He leaned into her, holding up the photo of his wife and child, hissing, “But for my family, it was desRosiers.”

  Pit of Firewolves

  Vertigo in his human form rolled around the mud and dead leaves north of Karina’s guest house, deep in the woods.

  His shrieks of laughter rousted birds from the trees and stilled all other sounds. This was going to be another easy one! And his own reinforcements were coming on all sides for the next moon. But tonight, tonight belonged to him alone. Hunter, that ridiculous boy who’d sniveled for days over his pretty little wife and child, was coming right to him, bringing that tender morsel of a girl with him for a little thrilling personal time. And desRosiers would be certain to follow, his anger blurring all reason.

  Silly child, that Simon. He’d had a bad habit of interfering with Firewolf attacks, but he hadn’t been able to stop that one way back in Texas. Ah, he reminisced, such fun he’d had! The chaos! And with the black wolf desRosiers being the only one spotted that night, Vertigo had gotten clean away with it. That sniveling boy Adam Hunter would never be able to keep up with the truth. Interesting twist, that Silverizing thing, though.

  Vertigo would get desRosiers soon, and then he’d likely be able to stop his own infernal policing of the Firewolf pack. With a little more luck, he’d even get his little toy Jake back.

  But for now, he’d commandeered the ground around the Hunters’ headquarters. He’d known about the place for moons now, and waited patiently until the Hunters began to make their way north from Texas to pursue a desRosiers sighting.

  Vertigo knew that Adam had called in all available members of the Hunter pack, as he must have suspected that there would soon be a gathering of wolves up here in the woods. Once Hunter and a couple of other gray playthings had arrived at the Redfeather house, all Vertigo had to do was cause some trouble to keep them in place, and then wait for the games to begin. Come this night, there would be no more Adam Hunter, desRosiers would be finished, he’d have Jake back in his thrall, and he could keep the girl for fun.

  By next moon, all the remaining wolf lines would be here, along with the full complement of Hunters avenging their leader. Or, wait, wouldn’t it be even more fun to turn Adam Hunter and set his own men after him? The joys were endless. He really ought to slow down and think this through. So many possibilities, and all started by a vengeful Hunter seeking his family’s killer and dragging his whole pack after him.

  Vertigo’s own pack would be waiting for their leader, right in his own headquarters. He howled and shrieked into the treetops and covered himself in leaves again, rolling and laughing. In stalking desRosiers, the Hunters were, of course, chasing the wrong wolf, and bringing the whole party straight to Vertigo himself.

  Creek Run Update: Artist Karina Redfeather

  Revealed to be in Protective Custody

  Pigeon Creek — Members of the self-proclaimed Hunters based at the home of Pigeon Creek resident Karina Redfeather have issued a statement saying that the artist is under protection at her home in Pigeon Creek.

  “Miss Redfeather is not considered an accomplice in the recent murders at Pigeon Creek, and has been placed under our protection for her own security. She will remain here safely until this situation can be resolved,” noted Adam Hunter in a statement emailed to the Creek Run late last night.

  The Creek Run attempted to contact Hunter, but neither he nor anyone else related to the organization was av
ailable, and phone messages were not returned.

  During a phone call made to the Minnesota state police, Lt. Brock Sherman explained that no complaints had been received by anyone in the area. Because Miss Redfeather is not actually missing and has filed no reports, there is no reason to become involved. When asked about the possibility of werewolves in the area, Lt. Sherman abruptly terminated the call.

  No further information is available at this time.

  UPDATED: In the absence of a sheriff, Adam Hunter was elected to office last night by the remaining seven residents of Pigeon Creek by a margin of six to one.

  Hunters and Gatherers

  In the next few days, the Hunters stationed outside kept mostly to themselves, their vans and campers providing them with whatever they seemed to require. Every so often one of them would pause by the largest tree, head bowed; from time to time they would stoop to place something on the growing little heap below the heavy branches. It dawned on Karina what had become of Bill’s badge. In spite of the horror of it all, she had a fit of irrepressible giggles at the thought of the way Simon’s wolf would happily treat that spot under the tree.

  The Hunters operated in teams of two, and Karina caught sight of an older and younger woman who might easily have been mother and daughter. The groups’ accents were from several regions around the country. All of the Hunters seemed focused and professional, giving Karina no cause for complaint aside from their continued existence. Meanwhile, Adam had left a printout of the Creek Run’s latest dispatch lying conspicuously on the coffee table.

  There was little talk in the cottage over the next few days, and even less sleep. Reese was the only one with an appetite.

  Horrible dreams haunted Karina in the few tossing, turning hours that she did get. Reese turned Firewolf and dragged her through the woods. Simon chased her relentlessly in both human and wolf form. A sweet little boy was torn to shreds before her, and she woke up hoarse and wet-eyed.

  There was so much Simon had never told her. She tried to imagine what his lover might be like, and whether she was a Waterwolf, as he was. Or maybe there was a fourth bloodline after all, and he was nobly assisting them as well? How long might they have known one another? There would be so much he did not have to explain to this woman. That part made sense, yet she could not stop torturing herself over it.