Shadows of Humanity

by J. Armand

  “I guess you’ve heard of him before.” William glanced over at me.

  “Hasn’t everybody?”

  William and I left the mansion and walked back across the grounds to his place.

  “He’s a good person. He walks a dark path, but there is light inside him. Fame and fortune led him astray, but I know I can help him as long as he keeps doing God’s work.”

  “None of this was what I expected. I was picturing clergymen and crosses everywhere.”

  “I admit things have become less pure. Some of us are going through a crisis of faith. But it’s what’s on the inside that matters most. They’ll repent by continuing to take action against the world’s greater evils, and God will forgive them. I don’t suggest you go to the party tonight. I never attend. You’ll see things that will tempt you from your path.”

  “I’m not much of a party person anyway.”

  “I figured.” Coming from William, that sounded more like praise. I had already done battle with the forces of Hell, so I wasn’t worried about something like alcohol at the party being a negative influence. I guess William was just being overly cautious.

  “I’ve got to be honest with you. I’m not a devout Catholic like you are.” It meant so much to him and I felt his perception of me had been skewed since I’d told him I had faith back in the Outsiders’ apartment building. I also wanted to see how this would affect our friendship and if he’d be able to handle the rest of the truth. “I respect it. I think it’s great. It’s just not who I am.”

  “I see.” William’s return to abruptness didn’t give me the reassurance I was hoping for. “There were probably not many opportunities to practice on the streets. It’s the core values you live by that are important.”

  William’s residence strongly reflected his tastes. The wood paneling was darker, and there were swords, shields, crosses, and religious statuettes everywhere. This villa definitely had a more gothic medieval feel.

  “So what was Owen hunting?” I asked. “I didn’t notice any weapons on him.”

  “Wolves most likely. They’re common around here. He only fights them barehanded.”

  “Wolves?”

  “Lycanthropes. Werewolves.”

  “He fights werewolves with his fists?” I remembered Noah’s startling description of them; they were at least seven feet tall and hit like a speeding train. He was so proud when he killed a pack of them that he had a claw mark tattooed across his side.

  “Yup. He’s good at it, too. He uses a serum made from hormones in their blood. It’s like a super steroid that increases strength and reflexes without any major side effects. There’s a pharmaceutical company that makes it for him. He and another brother, Micah, are pretty big investors.”

  “I thought the Brotherhood only fights evil. I didn’t think werewolves were evil.”

  “They are abominations of nature. Man is meant to lay with woman, not a beast.”

  “Is that really how they’re made? That doesn’t sound right.”

  “It’s how they began. God cursed the first man to lay with a beast, and from their offspring lycanthropy spread.”

  “How do you know it’s a curse? Maybe it’s a blessing.”

  “God created man in his image. Those fiends are nothing like us. They feed on men and are cannibals at best. If that isn’t evil, what is?”

  “I didn’t know they ate people, or at least, no more than a bear or a lion would if you stumbled into its home. But if lycanthropes are born that way, does it make them evil if they are just trying to survive the only way they know how? Couldn’t some of them be good?”

  “You have a lot to learn.” William opened a closet in one of his bedrooms. “I don’t mean that as an insult. You’ll learn everything you need to know here and you’ll always have the Brotherhood watching your back.”

  There seemed to be a disconnect in what he believed the Brotherhood was and what their actions showed. It was like wanted them to be this pious sect of hunters, but they didn’t take him seriously. He had very specific views on the undead, some of which I knew from my experiences to be wrong. I had my doubts about his knowledge of the werewolves’ origin, too. His fervent hatred for anything supernatural, not just the undead, was making me nervous again.

  “Carter and Amy don’t seem too interested in me,” I said.

  “They have a lot on their mind with the upkeep around here lately. Up until a couple of years ago Carter was the sole person responsible for the finances of our chapter, kind of like the patriarch of the family. He had a failed run for political office and took it hard. Micah has stepped in now that he’s finished his schooling at the university. He takes care of all the banking and investments that keep the estate where it is. I think Carter feels he is being pushed out by the younger members and resents it. I pray every night that he will find the strength to conquer those inner demons.”

  “What about Amy? She seems pretty… lively.” I stumbled trying to find a polite word to describe her. “When you said Brotherhood I wasn’t expecting there to be women. Does she hunt?”

  “Women weren’t allowed membership in the Brotherhood until the turn of the twentieth century. She used to hunt, but now just spends her time… indulging. Many of the senior members took their seat at God’s side recently and Amy doesn’t feel like fighting to keep up with the younger crowd. Instead she cemented her place as this chapter’s matriarch and handles business between the other houses in England. She also takes care of internal affairs and human resources, like hiring and managing the help.” William pulled a few shirts out of the closet he was staring into and tossed them on the bed. “This is all stuff she bought for me with the Brotherhood’s money that I never wear. She likes to shop. Don’t be surprised if you hear a lot of arguing between her and Micah when you meet him. I try to donate as much of it as I can but the closet just keeps getting refilled. Help yourself to whatever you want.”

  “These are all different sizes.” I picked through the pile of designer clothes. They still had their tags. One of these shirts could have paid a month’s rent in Manhattan.

  “She never remembers my size. I think she just gets a rush from buying things. Anyway, I’ve got some stuff I need to do, so why don’t you make yourself at home. You can take this room, but feel free to have a look around. This is your home now.”

  “Thanks, Willy.”

  “Don’t… don’t call me that,” he sighed on his way out.

  Part of me wanted to run around like a little kid and explore. The other part of me was hesitant, as though I shouldn’t have been there. I wondered if I should be stockpiling food and bottled water from the kitchen. It was going to take a while for me to get used to living comfortably again. I took a quick peek into the other rooms adjacent to mine. They were all unoccupied and decorated in more or less the same way. I would have been lonely living in such a big house by myself.

  Almost every wall had a framed photograph of a local landscape, presumably taken by William. They were all remarkable. He had some serious talent. You could tell what he’d been feeling at the time he took each picture just through his use of lighting and angles. Perspective was a powerful thing.

  As fascinated as I was with my new home, I was most interested in my king-sized bed. Maybe I’d finally be able to sleep more than a couple of hours at a time.

  Chapter Six

  The antique grandfather clock outside my room chimed twelve times. Had I really slept for seven hours without any hallucinations or night terrors? I rolled around the bed with a huge smile on my face. I hadn’t felt this alive since Japan. The bed was so large it was like I was on an island in the middle of the room.

  William was nowhere to be found. He’d said not to, but I was curious to go check out Owen’s party. I didn’t want to be rude and I couldn’t turn down an invite from Owen Blackbourne. My second shower in two days was a luxury that I still couldn’t stop smiling through. There was even deodorant and a toothbrush!

  I picked out
the most expensive-looking matching warm clothes, and ended up with a gray cashmere V-neck cardigan, a white oxford, designer jeans, and black Italian loafers. William hadn’t been kidding – there was quite possibly every size available. The waste of money was depressing, but it was to my advantage so I couldn’t complain. For once I would be dressed appropriately and not get gawked at.

  I realized I had no idea where the party was until I stepped outside to see one of the houses all lit up and a fleet of limousines parked in front. I could see my breath as I hiked across the lawn and was glad I’d be spending the night somewhere warm.

  “Your name please, sir?” An elderly man in a tuxedo greeted me at the door.

  “Um… Dorian?” I wasn’t used to a guest list at a house party – not that I had been to very many.

  “Are you not sure, sir? Because that name is not on the list, I’m afraid.”

  “Because he is family, Richard.” A platinum-blond man about my age in a well-tailored suit stepped forward. “It’s all right, let him through.”

  “Micah.” The blond man introduced himself and extended his hand. We exchanged pleasantries and walked in together.

  My smile faded slightly after I looked around at all the guests dressed in swanky formalwear.

  “I didn’t know this was a black tie affair,” I said dejectedly.

  “Nothing to worry about, the tie is the first thing to come off anyway. You clean up quite nicely, very smart. I heard from William the state he found you in. Pity. The young and beautiful should never have to go through that.”

  What a strange compliment. I didn’t think anyone should be homeless, regardless of how old or attractive they were, but I thanked him.

  The mansion was laid out in an open floor plan and had been turned into the Blackbourne’s own casino, complete with blackjack, poker, and craps, two full bars, cocktail waitresses, and live music.

  “Wow,” I whispered to myself, trying to take it all in.

  “Like it?” Micah asked, amused by my reaction.

  “Yeah, it’s really impressive!” I paused when I noticed some of the girls in the crowd of socialites walking around in matching lace lingerie and heels. “What is that about?”

  “The birds?” Micah signaled one of the waitresses to get him a drink. “A bit of entertainment for the party. ‘Companionship,’ you know? That is, if you can get one Owen hasn’t claimed.”

  “Is any of this legal?” I was a bit bewildered by the whole scene. When William had told me not to go, I figured he was being overly cautious with the homeless guy because there would be some drinks. When I’d realized at the door it was a formal gathering, I wondered if William had thought I would feel out of my class level and be drawn in by the glitz and glamor. But I saw in the first five minutes of the party blew all of that away. To my right, an older man with a cigar dangling from his mouth who’d been stuffed into his suit had a hand firmly attached to a lingerie-clad girl’s backside. His fat, sausage-shaped finger was trying to wedge itself between her cheeks while he carried on a conversation with some other guests. To my left, two younger men sat at a booth with their ties loosened and shirts unbuttoned. The scantily clad girl sandwiched between them looked to have had so many drinks she couldn’t even feel their hands groping every inch of her bare skin.

  “Does it need to be? When you’re one of us you live by your own rules. It doesn’t hurt that most of Parliament has been through here at some point.”

  I spotted Owen at a blackjack table with Carter, but Owen was too busy with the girls in lingerie on his lap and at his side to do much gambling. He dipped his finger into his drink and traced one girl’s lips with the liquid, letting her suck it off. No one at the table seemed to mind that they were in the middle of a game when he found better entertainment by making the girl on his lap giggle and squirm by burying his face in her neck. Nor did anyone bat an eye when his hand traveled so far up her inner thigh it treaded salaciously close to crossing the lace border of her undergarment. Nobody cared when he exchanged the girl for the brunette beside him and sat her on the table. There wasn’t a word of protest as his eager mouth found its way to her breasts – one patron courteously slid over and gave them some room.

  The dealer’s stoic expression indicated that this was not a rare occurrence. He maintained his professional demeanor as he collected the cards strewn about by Owen’s rising passion. What the hell had I walked into?

  “What can I get you, mate?” Micah offered and waved over another waitress. “Pick your poison, we have it all.”

  “No, it’s okay, I’m good,” I declined, sounding more nervous than I wanted to. I wasn’t much of a drinker to start with and this was the last place I felt comfortable letting my guard down.

  “You’ll have a much better time if you relax a little,” Micah insisted. “You’re in good company here, but we can’t get to know you if you’re all wound up. Wine at least?”

  “I guess,” I accepted with some apprehension.

  “The claret,” he ordered the waitress. “You know, you look familiar. Did you used to model?”

  “No.”

  “Hm. Well, you should. You’re a pretty lad. It got me through university and you’ll have to pull your weight around here.” Another shot at modeling was the last opportunity I’d expected to have here. Maybe it would be a return to normalcy amidst this group of debauched hunters. I hadn’t originally wanted to be a model, but now modeling seemed more enticing as a regular lifestyle than living on the streets or in the wilderness. It would have made my mom proud. “I’ll make some calls this week and see what I can set up for you.”

  “Your drink, sir.” The waitress returned with a smile. Suddenly I felt like a million bucks. Micah led us to a table to continue our chat. Owen glanced up from his guest’s chest to acknowledge me with a friendly nod as we passed, but Carter made sure not to look our way.

  “Do you want in on this, Dorian?” Owen yelled to me over the din. I couldn’t believe he actually remembered my name. Hearing him say it in his English accent gave me chills. It took me a few seconds to realize what he was asking as he stood up to leave with his shirt untucked and his arms around the girls.

  “No, no… no. I’ll, uh, pass. They already look pretty warmed up to you.”

  “Suit yourself, mate. More for me.”

  “Smart choice,” Micah said as we sat down. “Tag teaming with Owen can be tiring if you’re trying to keep up. He’s broken a few hips and even more headboards.”

  I kept my head down and stared wide-eyed into my glass of wine.

  “This is a lot different than the impression William gave me.”

  “I imagine so,” Micah rolled his eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re a good ol’ altar boy. I don’t take you as the type. You have too much style. William can’t even match a tracksuit.”

  “I’m not. I don’t see how he – what’s the word – fits in here. This is more of a high-society frat house than a holy Brotherhood.”

  “Jesus died for our sins and all that. We’re just making sure his sacrifice doesn’t go in vain. You’re not wrong though. Willy’s on his own quest.” Micah rolled his eyes again.

  “You’re all out to fight evil, though.”

  Another waitress stopped by to replace Micah’s drink. I had barely taken more than a few sips of mine.

  “Evil?” Micah smirked. “Sure, why not? We give it a go once in a while.”

  “What about the blessed armor? That amulet of his that hurts evil beings? What do you hunt?”

  “Whatever’s fun. It’s all about the thrill, the rush you get when it’s your life or theirs. The bigger the game, the greater the rush. Did Willy happen to leave out how our little family got its start?”

  I shook my head. I wasn’t sure if this was good or not. On one hand I was relieved that the whole Brotherhood wasn’t fixated on destroying anything different than them on the grounds that different meant evil. On the other hand, killing innocent people for sport was just as bad.
Thinking about it made my stomach hurt.

  “The founders were highborn men from across England who vacationed in Bath for the summer. There wasn’t much fun to be had back in the early 1400s I suppose, so the men would gather in hunting parties. Their presence disturbed the sanctity of the woods and they were chased out by packs of wolves that attacked their summer homes each night. The men thought to put the wolves down while they slept during the day and ventured into the woods to find their den. But what they found were no ordinary wolves. Most of the men were torn apart by the enraged werewolves they blundered into, but four of the men made it out alive and with the body of a lycanthrope to prove it.

  “They didn’t know that after a lycanthrope dies, it reverts to its human form. Their ‘proof’ turned out to be evidence they were murderers and the fact that most of their hunting party was dead didn’t look good either. Being rich and powerful has its perks; they covered up the deaths and rallied a new party to go back in again and again for revenge until every last one of the beasts was slain. Most of the men died, but the handful that survived had become addicted to bloodlust and secrecy. This house was built on the site of the first hunting lodge created by our founders.”

  “So the werewolves aren’t evil?”

  “No more than any other animal,” Micah shrugged “They’re quite a bit more entertaining to hunt, though.”

  “But if they have a human side to them and they aren’t evil, you are murderers.”

  “If you find one that wants to join us for tea sometime to talk about it instead of tearing off your bloody face, I should be glad to invite it over.”

  Micah and I looked over at a man causing a ruckus at the poker table.

  “Tch, the Prime Minister is always sore when he loses. Amy threw a drink in his face once for accusing her of cheating.”

  “Was she?” I watched as security tried defusing the situation – the “situation” being the Prime Minister trying to flip over the poker table.

  “Of course she was. She was only offended because he called her an amateur.”