Way of the Wolf: Shifter Legacies 1

by Mark E. Cooper

  She groaned and her eyes rolled in her head.

  “Easy there,” the cop said. “Take it easy.”

  “You’ll injure her,” David added. “To no purpose. Back it down a little. Let her up, Stephen!”

  Stephen glared, but he did ease his grip, and the woman’s distress seemed to lessen. “There, there. You are calm, you feel at ease. Michael went to visit Stephen in the city you say?”

  “Yes.”

  “How do you know this?”

  She smiled dreamily. “He told me.”

  “Did he indeed?” his eyes sharpened at that. “You and he are close?”

  “Oh yes! He feeds from me often.”

  The cop muttered darkly.

  David had expected something of the sort. Food was one of the reasons Michael hosted so many guests on his estate. Stephen did it too by feeding almost exclusively from the pack, though he kept things interesting by taking advantage of the club’s clientele for variety. As he often said, food came to him. He did not need to hunt. David supposed that if his diet consisted of a single thing, he would prize variety too.

  Stephen’s feeding from the pack was something David had not been easy with at the beginning of their association, but he had come to see it as a good thing since then. It made House Edmonton and its vampires strong, and it was safer for them if their food was provided in house so to speak. There were numerous stories of vampires lured to their deaths through an unwise choice of feeding partner. AML especially liked using the tactic, probably because it was so successful at enticing vamps into dangerous situations. He had no intention of allowing any of his vamps to feed from strangers and risk themselves.

  He smiled ruefully. He was becoming as possessive of the Edmonton vamps as Stephen could be with the Blood Drinker wolves! The pack was loyal to Stephen and saw feeding him and his vamps as a kind of repayment for the protection he had provided them in their time of need. It had been a way for them to strengthen their patron and make everyone safer at the same time. Nothing had changed now they were officially part of an allied pack rather than individual wolves working for him. They had never seen feeding vamps as distasteful. Apparently, it was quite pleasurable for both parties. He wouldn’t know anything about that, having no experience of it, but thrill seekers did and they were rabid fans of being bitten. That was not a good recommendation to try it in his opinion. Thrill seekers reminded him of desperate junkies looking for a fix. Maybe it affected humans differently because he hadn’t seen any ill effects in his wolves.

  “And that was the last time you saw him? Did Michael often spend his days in the city?” Stephen was saying.

  “Oh no, never!”

  “Never?”

  “No. He was always very proper and careful about returning before sunrise.”

  “But you said the last time you saw him was last Friday. Did you not see him return?”

  “No.”

  “No, just no? You did not see him return, or he did not return?”

  “I did not see him.”

  “Ask her if he returned,” the cop said. “Not if she saw him.”

  Stephen frowned at the interruption, but he did ask. “Did Michael return before sunrise that day?”

  “No.”

  “Well that’s not good,” David muttered.

  “Understatement much?” the cop said. “What about O’Neal? Ask her if she knows anything about him.”

  Stephen hissed. “Do you have any more orders for me? Let’s hear them, by all means.”

  “No need to be snippy,” the cop said. “We’re all here for the same thing.”

  “Why don’t I believe that?” Stephen turned back to his questioning. “Do you know a man by the name of O’Neal?”

  “Oh him,” the woman sneered. “Michael’s newest conquest.”

  Stephen’s eyebrows climbed abruptly. “Do tell us more, won’t you?”

  “Michael could have had anyone he wanted. He could have turned me! I’ve loved him longer and far better than John ever could or would. It’s not fair! I begged him to turn me, but he gave his gift to that raggedy man instead. Why? Why?!”

  “Hush now,” Stephen said. “Be calm. Michael bestowed the gift upon O’Neal you said. Why did he not keep the man close if he was such a favourite of his?”

  “He did at first. Michael loved him. They went everywhere together.”

  “But?”

  “Something happened. I don’t know what but Michael was very upset. John was suddenly nowhere around and I thought maybe he had died. Michael was so angry.”

  “When was this?”

  “Weeks and weeks ago.”

  The cop muttered something. “I bet that was when O’Neal started his killing spree. The timing is right. Michael lost control of him somehow.”

  Stephen snorted. “Not possible, not even remotely possible. You have no idea of what you speak. No newborn could hope to resist Michael. The very idea is laughable.”

  “You see me laughing? There’s nothing funny about nine dead women! Do you think it’s a coincidence that Michael and O’Neal have a falling out right around the time the killings started? That O’Neal suddenly dropped out of sight leaving Michael pissed off and angry about something? I’m betting O’Neal got away and killed Sheryl Adams. She was the first woman to die.”

  “You do not understand. Michael is... was O’Neal’s maker. There is a bond. O’Neal should not have been able to hide from Michael. More than that, he should not have been able to resist a summons from him. No newborn should be able to do that. I made Danyelle more than a century ago, and even she cannot! If my maker were alive today and he wished it, I would have to go to him no matter where in the city he was. The bond makes it so!”

  “Yeah? Well something went wrong when O’Neal was turned. He was already a nut bunny before Michael got him. Maybe that screwed it up or something. How the hell should I know? Whatever happened, happened. It doesn’t matter now. All that does, is Michael’s location.”

  David nodded.

  Stephen frowned at the truth of her words. He glanced at the dreamy woman and then toward Gavin and Rachelle on the other side of the room. They were busy questioning the other survivors. Jonas would be arriving any time now, and they needed to adjust everyone’s memories before they could let them go about their business. All of it had to be done before sunrise, and they still didn’t know where Michael had gone or why.

  “Where,” the cop said darkly. “The fuck… Is… Michael?”

  * * *

  Part IV

  31 ~ Taken

  His driver held the rear door of the limo open, and Stephen climbed out. “Wait here.”

  “Yes, Stephen,” Terry said very respectfully.

  Terry had been exceptionally careful and well behaved since the incident with Marie at the club. He had settled down remarkably well, and Stephen found himself grudgingly pleased with his newest child. He hadn’t expected that. He had turned Terry not because he needed or wanted another mouth to feed, but because he’d given his word to the man. He hadn’t expected to find him useful, but he did.

  He headed for the house and dismissed thoughts of Terry from his mind. He was looking forward to seeing Marie again. She had visited with him a few times now at the club, but this was the first time she had invited him to her home. He would have preferred it to be just the two of them, but this visit was business not pleasure. At her urging, Marie’s father had finally agreed to a meeting to discuss Techtron’s current aims in the city, but he was determined to enjoy some part of the evening with her despite that.

  The door opened as he approached and Marie stepped out of the house to greet him. He smiled and reached to take her offered hands in both of his.

  “Thank you for coming,” Marie said blushing in a charming manner.

  Seeing it made Stephen feel lighter of spirit. He truly did enjoy her. “Thank you for inviting me.”

  “Come inside. Dad is looking forward to meeting you.”

  He
released her hands, and Marie led the way into her home. Stephen followed noting the unhappy faces of a pair of security guards hovering just inside. He nodded to them, acknowledging their watchfulness. One ignored him, the other nodded back. Both were tense, hands ready to reach for the suspicious looking bulges under their unbuttoned jackets. They wouldn’t have occasion to use their weapons against him, but if they tried, he could easily disarm them. He did not fear them and took no insult from their guardedness. There were many dangers in the world and Marie deserved protection.

  “That will be all, Andrew, thank you,” Marie said.

  Stephen smiled as the guard struggled to find a reason not to leave her with him.

  “Yes, Miss,” Andrew finally said, though he was obviously far from sanguine. He waved his colleague away and busied himself closing the door, and if he did so a little slowly to extend the time to remain nearby, what of it?

  Marie smiled at Stephen and took him deeper into the house. “Dad is in his office. He usually is.”

  “How sad.”

  “Sad?”

  “That he has you and such a lovely home but does not emerge from his office more to enjoy you both.”

  Marie laughed. “You are such a tease.”

  “I’m glad that I can make you laugh, but I’m quite serious. Many things are said of my kind, most are unpleasant, but we do have an appreciation for beauty and the finer things. You might say that being dead gives us a unique perspective on life.”

  Marie stopped and turned to face him. She was suddenly quite close and confrontational. “Don’t do that! You’re not dead. I don’t like hearing you say that you are!”

  “Hush, it’s all right. I’m used to it.”

  “It’s not. You’re parroting AML’s line. You can’t beat them by joining them, Stephen. That might work in some things, but not in this. Prejudice and bigotry should be fought, never tolerated. AML are the worse examples of humanity. Don’t emulate them, please.”

  “AML are only the most vocal. It’s refreshing that they’re willing to back word with deed. Strange to think, I know, but I prefer an enemy willing to fight me in the open to the snide comments and backroom deals that the government relies upon. Politics,” he sneered. “And politicians invariably disgust me. Backstabbing two-timing liars most of them. They smile to your face while quietly slipping poison in your wine or a dagger in your back.”

  “At least politicians don’t go around setting bombs and killing the innocent.”

  “Do they not? Not with their own hands perhaps, but that’s what the military is for. Let us not argue over the rights and wrongs of wars undertaken on our supposed behalf. I’m here to see your father about a different kind of war, a more shadowy kind happening right here in LA.”

  Marie glared, frustration in her tense stance, but after a moment, she relaxed her posture and sighed. “Sorry. I don’t mean to ruin your first visit it’s just that...” she sighed again. “You sound entirely too much like dad, especially when he thinks I’m being naive. I don’t like being condescended to.”

  “I didn’t mean to do that.”

  “But you do think that I’m naive? No, it’s all right; I can see that you do. To you we probably all seem like children—”

  She didn’t give him time to refute that.

  “—but I’m not. I’m a grown woman with a good brain in my head.”

  “Indeed you are,” he said and smiled appreciatively.

  She blushed. “Well, okay then.” Her eyes darted around and briefly caught his before she realised that she was doing something dangerous. They skittered away to settle upon his lips. He moistened them and she flushed harder. “Dad is waiting,” she said weakly, entranced by his mouth and the smile that widened seemingly of its own volition.

  He truly did enjoy her. Truly. “Then by all means, let us not keep him wondering where we are.”

  She nodded and led the way to a door.

  William Stirling was a rotund man in his sixties, his hair was thinning but still dark, and the beard he wore was speckled with silver. He looked up from his desk comp as they entered and stood to greet them. He smiled at Marie, his love for his daughter shining upon his face. Stephen liked him for it and his obvious suspicion when those pale blue eyes came to rest upon him.

  “This is Stephen, Dad,” Marie said and added, “Be nice.”

  “When haven’t I been nice to your guests?” William said and grinned when she rolled her eyes. “Well, all right, but this one isn’t a potential boyfriend. You can’t expect miracles.”

  “He didn’t like Terry,” Marie confided to Stephen.

  “I like him for that,” he replied and laughed when William beamed at him. He seemed to be a very jolly fellow; he was glad for Marie’s sake. “I’m pleased to meet you at last.”

  William nodded and indicated seats. Neither of them offered to shake hands. Stephen rarely offered, knowing that most humans would refuse and be uncomfortable refusing, and perhaps William was one of those people, as he seemed relieved. He was less sanguine however, when Marie chose to sit next to him on the same couch, leaving her father standing alone. She grinned at him, and William muttered something under his breath before finding his own seat.

  “I’ve reviewed the reports that Marie commissioned,” William began, sending his daughter a mock glare, but his pride in her was obvious. “They are, unfortunately, damning. I will say right now that these projects were not and are not sanctioned by me or Techtron’s board.”

  “Convenient,” Stephen said ignoring Marie’s gasp and her father’s flush of anger. “I’m a businessman as you are. Not on the same scale of course, but that doesn’t change the fact that you are head of your House—Techtron—and are therefore responsible for what it does, just as I am responsible for what those who are sworn to my House do in its name. Techtron is working with an outlawed group, terrorists who spend their time killing and persecuting people like me.”

  William glared. “Not Techtron. These clandestine projects are not on the books. They’re the sole responsibility of one man only, and he will be disciplined. I can assure you that Wilson is finished at Techtron, and any on the board who knowingly abetted him will be jettisoned along with him.”

  That was very satisfying. This mess had been festering for months. Without Marie’s intervention, he would still be trying unsuccessfully to arrange a meeting like this one. Satisfying then that they had made such great progress all at once, but it didn’t solve the underlying problem of AML. He wasn’t sure anything could solve it, but in the short term cutting off its funding would help.

  “What about Wilson’s other activities? His meetings with Newman, his indirect funding of AML through shell companies owned by Techtron?”

  “I’m in the process of tracking down all of them. Once I know how he managed to hide the syphoning of funds, and where those funds were transferred, I’ll shut down the entire operation. That’s one reason I agreed to this meeting. I want your agreement to allow me to investigate Wilson properly without interference. I’m aware of what you could do, but I’m asking you not to. I need to learn the extent of the rot before I start cutting. I don’t want a recurrence of this a few years down the line.”

  Stephen nodded thoughtfully. He could understand the need to clean house properly. William’s acknowledgement that he needed his cooperation to do that was gratifying. He had considered just killing Wilson more than once, but that really wouldn’t solve the AML problem. Perhaps mapping their various sources of funding would begin that process.

  “How far along with it are you, may I see?”

  William nodded. “Marie, the red folder on my desk if you would?”

  Marie stood and went to her father’s desk, but before she located the folder there came a crash and a shout from somewhere in the house. Startled, she looked up and took a step toward the door to investigate. Stephen reacted instinctively to shield her and bar her way. It might be nothing, but then again it might be something. In a minor dis
play of power, he was across the room and in front of the door. He held up a hand, and Marie stopped where she was in the middle of the room.

  “What’s going on?” William said, his face beginning to darken with suspicion.

  “I have no notion. Perhaps nothing, but for Marie’s sake allow me to investigate.” He opened the door and peered out, but nothing seemed amiss. He advanced.

  “Be careful!” Marie called.

  “I shall,” he said without turning. Something felt out of place, but he couldn’t quite get a sense of it. He had the distinct feeling he had forgotten something. “I’ll be back shortly.”

  He closed the office door firmly, wishing he could have locked it and stationed a guard to protect its contents. A few of his wolves would have been handy about now, or that security guard he met earlier. Yes, where was the fellow? He looked about himself but the house seemed deserted. The shout should have brought the man running, surely.

  He listened intently and thought he heard something coming from the back of the house. He headed that way opening doors and peering into rooms. There was no sign of disturbance and he began to feel a little silly. Perhaps one of the staff had dropped something and the mishap had caused him to shout in startlement. He frowned; he didn’t believe that—

  The attack came out of nowhere and he was flying off his feet, snarling in pain. His chest was on fire! Not literally, but it hurt as if flames were consuming him. He crashed to the floor on his back, his hands ripping at his shirt and the flesh beneath. He tore the silvered daggers out of his chest, vowing bloody vengeance. As soon as the hated metal left his body, the coolness he associated with healing replaced the pain. The great beyond and the coolness of the grave was a balm to his kind.

  He sprang to his feet and threw the daggers aside as his attacker arrived. It was a vampire, a young one, and his aura felt strange. He remembered Gavin’s description of O’Neal; how his aura had felt weak one moment and powerful the next. This newborn was the same. Suddenly he feared for Marie and her father. Were they still safe? He had no time to check; he was busy fighting for his life. He thought longingly of his sword and wished he’d brought it, but as with prayer, wishes did him little good. He had his strength and his fangs. They would have to be enough.