Howling Dead

by M. H. Bonham

  They walked out the back. Alaric was still barefoot, but didn’t seem to notice. Jim led him to the red Corvette, and Alaric unlocked the door. “If you don’t come get me in an hour, I’ll have your name across all the radios. I need to know how she’s doing.”

  Alaric laid her gently in the passenger seat. He met Jim’s gaze with his brassy stare. “Give me your phone number—I’ll call from Megan’s if I’m delayed.” Jim handed over his card as Alaric climbed into the driver’s seat. He started the engine and pulled out as the police cars parked along the front.

  K

  Kira groaned, and Alaric glanced beside him. She had lost a lot of blood—more than he had seen most wolves lose and survive.

  Stay with me, Kira, he said to her.

  The drive to Megan’s was relatively short. Megan was in Southeast Denver, practicing in one of the old Victorian homes off of 6th Avenue. He could get there in less than fifteen minutes.

  Despite his worry, and his fear that Kira might die, Alaric wondered what her relationship with the cop was. He had known nothing about the cop, and yet Kira seemed to have told Walking Bear everything about him and the werewolves. This was dangerous, Alaric reflected. He glanced at Kira. She seemed to be on better terms with Jim than with him. The cop even had a Corvette. A Corvette! It rankled Alaric, despite himself.

  He pulled up to Megan’s, hopped out, and pounded on the door. Nothing. He looked at the time and snarled. Of course, she’d be a wolf now. It was a little past two am—Megan wouldn’t be arriving to work until sometime after six.

  Damn, damn, damn, he thought. Why in the goddess’s name did it have to be so difficult?

  “Kira,” he whispered in the wolf’s ear. “Can you become human?” Denver General was only a few blocks away—if she could change into a human, she could be treated. He’d take the consequences—whatever they were—for bringing her in. “Change, Kira, it’s the only way I can save your life.”

  Nothing.

  Suddenly he felt a presence. He turned around to see the flitting image of a werewolf in the shadows down the block. Without a second thought, he turned into a wolf and leapt after it.

  The wolf squealed in terror and began to run when it saw Alaric bearing down on it. Wait! roared Alaric. I am Alpha!

  The wolf halted and lowered his head, turning his belly toward Alaric. Forgive me, Alpha.

  Find Megan Olson now! Alaric roared at him. She must come immediately! A life is as stake!

  I obey, the wolf said and skittered off.

  Alaric raised his head and howled. Within that howl, he demanded that Megan come back. He returned to the car and transmuted back to human form, sliding his clothes back on. He sat with Kira, stroking her fur as he held her.

  Now, he had to wait.

  It was maybe fifteen minutes when he heard the pad of paws. He looked up and saw Megan approaching, still in her wolf form. It’s Kira, he said. She saved me from Cathal.

  Megan nodded once and went around back. She came out a minute later in human form, still buttoning her blouse. “Damn it, Alaric,” she said. “You scared the piss out of John back there.”

  “He should be scared,” Alaric replied. “I’d have killed him if you hadn’t come.”

  “The whole pack is in an uproar,” Megan said. “We heard you’d been captured by Animal Control, and then Cathal took over...”

  “And no one thought to bother rescuing me?” Alaric said, his eyes narrowing. “No one except Kira.”

  Megan did not meet his gaze. “None of us were strong enough to stand up to Cathal and his wolves.”

  “I may let you live if you can save her.” He opened the car door and scooped Kira into his arms.

  Megan’s face became ashen as she looked at Kira. “Damn it. She’s lost a lot of blood. Bring her in.”

  He carried her to the door and Megan unlocked and opened it. “Should I have brought her to Denver Central Vet?”

  “No, they would’ve killed her,” she said. “Dogs don’t have the same blood types as werewolves. One of the joys of having human genetics running around with the canine ones.” She flipped on the lights and led him through the waiting area and into the back room. The surgery table stood clean and empty. “Put her there. What’s your blood type?”

  “I don’t know,” he said. “Don’t you have blood available?”

  “Yeah, I do—I have werewolf donors all the time—but she may need more than what I have on stock. Go to the fridge and pull out O-negative werewolf,” she said. “I’ll type her later.”

  Alaric opened the refrigerator and found several packets of blood. “There’s O-negative human...”

  “No, she’s a wolf—she needs werewolf blood...”

  Alaric searched. In the back, he found a couple of pints marked O – Were. He held it out. “This it?”

  “Yeah,” she said. “She’s going to need more than that. Get on the phone and call up Jim Smith—he’s my O-neg donor.”

  Alaric handed her the plastic pints and looked around the phone for an address book.

  “Damn! I wish Mike were here!” Megan snapped. “Turn on the computer and look in Outlook Contacts. Call Mike Fowlkes on his cell phone and tell him I need him now. Then call Jim Smith.”

  Alaric felt helpless as he dialed the phone and barked orders to the werewolves’ voicemail. He then came over to watch as Megan began stitching Kira’s wounds. “How is she?” he asked tentatively when Megan offered no information.

  “She’s make it,” Megan said. “I don’t know how that asshole missed her jugular, but he did. He missed the carotid too.” She shook her head. “Lucky, lucky girl.” She finished sewing up the wound and pulled out a syringe. “You know if she’s allergic to penicillin?”

  He shook his head.

  “Dare not chance it then—we’ll go with something else,” she said. She smeared a slide against some of the blood and went over to the microscope. “Well, she’s lucky. Your girlfriend’s were-transformation is complete. If she were just a Normal, she’d be dead.”

  “Girlfriend?” Alaric said sharply.

  Megan turned and grinned. “Don’t play coy, Alaric. She wouldn’t have come after you if she hadn’t some feelings for you.”

  Alaric turned to gaze on Kira’s face. “I guess not.” He paused. “How long before she regains consciousness?”

  “Might be a while,” Megan said. “She’s lost a lot of blood and needs to rebuild. I need to type her—and you—to see if there’s a match. If there is, you can donate blood—assuming you’re up to it. Otherwise, we’ll use some of the blood in the fridge and let her body make up for the rest. I don’t think Jim’s coming any time soon—I hear he’s dating a cute bitch in Englewood. Mike won’t check his messages until the morning either.” She paused. “Have you ever thought of setting up a kind of 9-1-1 for werewolves?”

  Alaric cocked his head. “No, I hadn’t.”

  “We need one,” she said. “Mike and I have been working on the plans. He wants to set one up for Montana, too.” She paused. “Nice Corvette, by the way. Whose car did you take? That wasn’t yours.”

  “Damn!’ Alaric pulled the business card from his pocket. “A cop named Walking Bear—he’s going to be angry if I don’t call.” He dialed the phone, uncertain what he would say when the cop answered.

  CHAPTER 40

  While he waited for backup, Jim tried to clean up the evidence as well as he could. It was almost impossible. Alaric’s fingerprints would be on the gun with Cathal’s. Cathal’s blood would be mixed with Alaric’s and Kira’s. Jim knew he’d have some explaining to do.

  But the truth was too weird even for him. He wondered if werewolf blood looked like wolf blood under the microscope. Probably not, he suspected. The only thing he had going for him was the fact that there weren’t any human bodies. Otherwise, there’d be a full-blown investigation.

  “Police!” shouted an officer.

  “Kevin?” Jim shouted back, hardly believing his good fortune. It was
his partner. “It’s me, Jim. Coast clear.”

  Kevin opened the door tentatively and holstered his gun as he saw the blood and the dead wolf. Kevin O’Dell was a big man with red hair and freckles. He had been Jim’s partner for three years. “Shit, what happened?”

  Jim shrugged. “I got an anonymous tip that someone was going to try to let that wolf out. You know, from the attacks?”

  “Shit,” said Kevin. He picked up the gun that lay by Cathal with a gloved hand. “Shot the pooch before he could get it out?”

  “Yeah, something like that. He shot at me,” said Jim. “Nice guy.”

  “Did you hit him?”

  Jim shook his head. “I don’t think so. He fled on foot.”

  While the investigative team looked for clues, Jim spent the time filling out paperwork. There were going to be discrepancies in the report and the evidence, but it couldn’t be helped. The truth was just too bizarre. He’d deal with it when the time arose. If they were lucky, they’d only get a good set of prints from Cathal’s hand. If not, Alaric would be a suspect too. But it served him right—Alaric had murdered a man.

  And now Jim was an accomplice in the murder. But was it a murder if you killed a werewolf in wolf form? Or wasn’t it? Alaric was one of them, and he seemed to not think so. He could arrest Alaric on charges of killing Cathal Murphy—but it had been self-defense right up until Alaric had double-tapped Cathal in the heart with silver bullets. Cathal probably wouldn’t have lived anyway, though, and even if he had, he would’ve most likely gotten the lethal injection that had been meant for Alaric.

  “Hey Jim, you know this wolf has been bitten?” Kevin was kneeling by Cathal’s body.

  “Really?” Jim said casually.

  “Yeah. It was grabbed by the throat—I thought you said there was only one wolf.”

  “That’s all I saw, but I came in late,” Jim said. “Maybe we should get the Animal Control officers to check the other cages out. Maybe there’s more than one wolf that’s missing.”

  Martha came in the door. Her brown hair was disheveled and she looked as if she had just woken up. She halted when she saw the blood and the dead wolf. “Oh my God,” she whispered, her face turning pale. “What happened?”

  “Jim got an anonymous tip that someone was going to try to free the wolf.” Kevin said. “He came down and caught the suspect in the act.”

  “The perp shot the wolf,” Jim said. “We exchanged fire.”

  “Did you hit the son of a bitch?” Martha asked.

  “No.”

  “Damn,” she said. “I would’ve recommended you for a metal.”

  “We need you to check the other dogs,” Kevin said. “There are bite marks on it.”

  Martha’s eyes widened and she turned and went to the clipboard hanging on the wall. Pulling it off the wall, she started going through the cages to see which dogs were missing.

  Jim’s cell phone rang. “Walking Bear,” he said.

  “Yeah, this is Alaric. I’m at Megan’s,” Alaric’s voice came through the receiver.

  Jim’s stomach knotted. “How is she?” he whispered, turning his back to the others and walking a few paces away.

  “She’s getting transfusions. Doctor says she’ll make it.”

  “When can you pick me up?”

  “After Ms. Vampire siphons a few pints of blood from me for her.” There was an uncomfortable pause. “I’ll be there as soon as Megan says it’s okay to drive.”

  Jim frowned as he hung up the phone. By the sound of things, it could be an hour or more, or all night.

  He was in the front office working on the paperwork with Kevin when the Corvette passed by outside, turned the corner and parked in the back. Jim excused himself and went around back to find Alaric sitting in the car. Alaric got out and handed him the keys.

  “How is she?” Jim asked.

  Alaric shrugged. “Megan says she’s lost a lot of blood, but Cathal didn’t hit anything vital. She should be awake and around by tomorrow.”

  “You’re kidding?” Jim said. “After all that?”

  “Werewolf,” Alaric said. “We heal faster than normal humans.”

  “Even though she was bit?”

  “Even though,” Alaric said. “You know where Megan’s is?”

  “Yeah, on Sixth Avenue. I’m going. You want a ride?”

  Alaric nodded and walked around to the passenger seat. Jim got in, started the car and pulled out of the alleyway. Both men were quiet for some time as Jim drove.

  “You know, I didn’t thank you,” Alaric said when the silence became uncomfortable.

  “Actually it was Kira’s idea,” Jim said, without glancing at the lycanthrope. “I didn’t believe her when she said you were human.”

  “Not quite human,” Alaric said with a sharp laugh. “None of us really are.”

  “Kira seems human to me,” Jim said.

  “That’ll change over time,” Alaric said. “Each day she’ll become more and more werewolf.”

  “That’s not very comforting,” Jim said.

  “It is reality. Many have tried to reverse the process. No one has been successful.”

  “What if you weren’t born one, but bitten?”

  Alaric shook his head. “The result is the same. You become one of us. And nothing in heaven or on earth can change that.”

  CHAPTER 41

  Kira found herself standing in a silent forest of lodge pole pines. It was dark and cold here—the trees grew together so densely that she couldn’t see the sky or anything beyond the forest. Nothing grew in the shade of the ominous pines. Only a scattering of evergreen needles and pinecones coated the forest floor.

  Kira was in wolf form. She padded silently through the darkened woods, looking for something. What it was, she wasn’t quite sure. When she tried to concentrate, her head and neck began to hurt. She tried to paw her neck with a foreleg and pain shot through her. Strong, invisible hands gripped her legs.

  Don’t let her scratch it, a familiar woman’s voice said.

  Kira looked up, and the canopy of trees melted before a brightly glowing ball of light. A whine escaped her lips as the ball grew and expanded, blotting out the forest in a blinding flare...

  K

  Kira opened her eyes. Her neck throbbed unmercifully as she lay on a blanket in the Very Bright Place. Two men were sitting beside her: one whose scent was powerful and wild; the other, warm and earthy. Both scents were familiar and remarkably comforting.

  “Is she coming around?” one voice spoke. It was masculine, and very familiar.

  “I think so,” said another male voice. Again, there was a familiarity she couldn’t place.

  The light was bright and intense. Kira wanted to close her eyes and wish the entire scene away. The wolf within wanted to return to the dark, cool pines. And yet something was pulling her back to the bright light and the pain. And the world of the living.

  Her mouth was dry and her throat hurt too much to be able to speak, even if she could have spoken as a wolf. The stale metallic taste of blood still burned in her mouth. She felt weak and as she moved a bit, she could feel the prickle of the IV tubes that snaked their way down into her veins.

  “Kira?” came a voice. “It’s Alaric.”

  Alaric. The name floated in her barely-conscious mind. Alaric? The vision of the handsome black wolf appeared in her mind. Then the fight with Cathal came rushing back to her and her neck ached. Cathal had nearly killed her.

  “It’s okay, it’s over,” Jim said. “Cathal is dead—he won’t be attacking anyone again.”

  She raised her head. It can’t be, Kira said. I was attacked by a gray wolf, not a black one. The wolf who attacked the transient was the same, I’m sure of it.

  Kira’s eyesight began to fade. The dark forest was returning, cool and inviting.

  “Kira! Kira!” Alaric said. “Stay with me. Are you sure it wasn’t Cathal?”

  But Kira was already running free in the cool darkness beneath the lodg
e pole pines.

  K

  Alaric watched as Kira sank back into unconsciousness. His jaw tightened—he hadn’t expected Kira to tell them that he had killed the wrong wolf. Not that killing Cathal had been wrong. Cathal had been a thorn in Alaric’s paw for far too long, and proved his disloyalty by attempting to murder Alaric and Kira. Cathal might not have been the wolf who attacked Kira and killed her friend, but he had been sure that Cathal was one of the rogue wolves. But Alaric still had another wolf to find.

  “What did she say?” Jim asked.

  Alaric met the cop’s steady gaze. “She says it wasn’t Murphy.”

  Jim glanced at the sleeping wolf and then back at Alaric. “Are you sure?”

  “She says that the wolf who attacked her was gray. It attacked a homeless guy too.”

  “Then you killed an innocent man,” Jim said.

  Alaric laughed.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Cathal was many things,” Alaric said, “but he was not innocent. He was involved in this somehow, I am certain. He may not have killed Kira’s friend, but he probably gave the orders to do so. Even if he didn’t, he would’ve killed me and he would’ve killed Kira, and your ‘law’ and justice system would not have been able to hold him. It’s best that he’s dead.”

  “Werewolf justice?”

  Alaric shrugged. “Call it what you like—it’s effective.”

  Megan entered the room. “You two still here? My patients will be arriving soon and I’ve got to get this place cleaned up.”

  Jim stood up and checked his watch—it was almost 4 am. “Do you need a ride back to...” His voice trailed off.

  “To wherever werewolves go?” Alaric remarked. “No, I don’t. I’ll be returning to The Grey Wolf.” He paused and eyed Jim suspiciously. “So, what are you saying in your report?”

  “I already wrote it up,” Jim said. “A crazy man shot the wolf and escaped. Not exactly a lie by my reckoning.”

  Alaric chuckled and nodded. Despite himself, he liked the cop—even if he could tell the man had designs on his future mate. That would change; it always did once the Normal had enough of the werewolf lifestyle. He bent down and ran his fingers through Kira’s fur. “Rest, little one. Megan will take good care of you,” he whispered. Beloved. He looked up at Jim. “If you need me, come to The Grey Wolf in LoDo. You know where that is?”