by Greg Hair
“Yes, but—“
Her eyebrows furrowed and she shot up in the bed.
“Oh, no, not again,” she said.
“What?”
“You’re about to tell me stay here, aren’t you?”
“Well…”
“I knew it!” she said, jumping out of bed, dressing her nude body. “I’m not staying here while everyone else goes to fight. It’s not right, it’s not fair, and you can’t tell me what to do. Just because you’re my husband, doesn’t mean you can control me.”
“Lilly, I need you here.”
“Why? To protect me?”
“That’s part of it. Of course, I don’t want you to get hurt. I don’t know how this is going to end.”
“You can’t always protect me. Besides, I can take care of myself. I think I’ve proven that multiple times.” She paused. “Wait. You said that’s part of it. What’s the other part?”
“Bianca. She can’t go. Someone has to stay here, be here with her when the babies get here. And, Liam and Mara.”
“So you thought you’d pick me. You could have picked anyone else, but you picked me. It’s not fair, Landon. Calling the shots for what’s about to happen, and because you’re Consul, doesn’t translate to being able to call the shots on what I do. Look, I love Liam, Mara, and Bianca, with all my heart, but all I’ll be is a babysitter. Everyone else will be fighting for their lives, fighting to save the world, and where will I be? Babysitting.”
Landon sat quietly.
“Please,” she said, kneeling, draping herself over his legs. “Don’t do this. It’s not like me to beg for anything. Please don’t make me stay behind. It’s not about me having to watch the kids, or take care of Bianca, you know I don’t mind doing that. But, I need to be there for you, I need to help you bring Nicholas down. You need me there just as much I need to be there.”
“I’m sorry, Lilly. You’re staying.”
“No. You’re not sorry, at all.”
She stormed out of the room, footsteps fast and heavy down the stairs. Landon rushed to the window and watched her stomp away from the building, and out of sight.
“This is bullshit!” he heard her yell from somewhere he couldn’t see.
He turned his attention to Bianca, and headed to her room.
“How you feeling?” he asked, entering her quarters, seeing her lying in bed.
“Never felt better,” she said, not even trying to hide the sarcasm. “You guys may carry me to a local church, but you can’t carry me all the way to Scotland. Have you figured out how you’re getting me there?”
“Bianca, you don’t really think you’re going, do you?”
“Uh, yeah. What the hell?”
“You’re pregnant. You can’t travel, let alone fight. Why would we take you up there? It’s way too dangerous for you, not to mention for your babies. What do you think Nicholas would do if he saw you there, pregnant? You think he wouldn’t put it together? He’d be after you in a heartbeat. No, you need to stay here, where you’re safe, and bring those babies into the world.”
“I know I’m going to give birth, but I figured by the time we got there, that will have happened, and I could fight. My friends may need me. You may need me.”
“Who’d take care of the babies? No one’s available. No one should be available, except for their mother. Your children need you. Look, you won’t be alone down here. LillyAnna’s staying, and my twins will be here, too.”
“I’m sorry, Landon, but this is ridiculous. It’s not fair.”
“I seem to be hearing that a lot, this morning. You’re about to give birth, Bianca. Think. You have to stay here. I’ll leave a couple of the Mexican vampires here with you and Lilly, to help out. That’s the way it is.”
Landon turned to walk out.
“This is bullshit,” said Bianca.
“Yeah, I’m hearing that one a lot, too,” he said, leaving the room.
One more stop, he thought.
Landon approached a closed door, and knocked.
“Come in,” came a small voice from the other side.
Landon opened the door to find Liam and Mara playing together on the old, wooden floor. He’d had Jacinda get toys for the children from toy stores in Venice.
“Daddy!” said the twins, in unison. They jumped up, running to his arms.
“Hey, my beautiful children.” He sat on the one bed the kids shared, then propped them up on either side of him. “Whatcha guys doing?”
“I’m a princess,” said Mara, “and Liam’s being a handsome prince.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. You’re just in time for the wedding. We’re getting married.”
“You and Liam are getting married? I know that a lot of royal families are connected through intermarriage, but I don’t think siblings—.” He stopped suddenly, remembering he was talking to two five-year-olds when he saw his kids looking at him with confused expressions.
“Nevermind. Look, I need to talk to you guys for a minute.” He stared off in front of him, then turned his head continuously to each child as he talked. “I have to go somewhere. Actually, almost everyone on the island has to go somewhere. But, LillyAnna, Bianca, and a couple of others are going to stay here with you. You’ll be okay.”
“Are you coming back?” asked Liam. “Mommy didn’t come back when she went away.”
Landon felt his soul, all his answers, jerk out of him. He didn’t know what to say, but knew he couldn’t sit there speechless forever.
“Mommy’s body went away, honey, but her soul, the part of her you can’t see, is still here. She’s with you all the time.”
“Is that where you’re going?” asked Mara. “To Heaven? And then you’ll watch us when we can’t see you?”
“I will be back,” he said.
The twins hugged him, and he pulled them in as tight as he could.
Now, I get it, he thought. Now I understand what being a father is all about.
Landon watched one of his tears fall on Liam’s red hair. The boy didn’t move.
Suddenly, the lyrics to a song he hadn’t heard in a long time flooded his head.
There’s too much, that I keep, to myself, and I turn my back on my faith; it’s like glass, when we break, I wish no one in my place.
Richard Butler whispered, loudly, in his mind’s ear, singing Love Spit Love’s Am I Wrong. The song stayed in his head as he left the twins’ room, and made his way outside to the waiting crowd of werewolves and vampires. The lyrics still swimming in his head, he thought carefully about what he was about to say to his troops. The population was quiet.
“I wish no one in Nicholas’ place.”
The crowd parted, cheering, as Landon walked toward the Poveglia’s dock.
Floating, waiting, around the dock, and wrapping around half the island and stretching halfway out into the lagoon, were hundreds of boats, gondolas, and water taxis.
Landon entered the first he came to, and looked back at LillyAnna, looking out their bedroom window. He watched his children run out of the Octagon, and down to the dock, jumping up and down as they waved.
In moments, he was moving across the Venice Canal, his army following behind him.
Chapter 29: Requiem
Landon and Ryker straddled up to the bar in the crowded London club that evening.
“Welcome to Twilight Zone,” said the bartender. “What’ll it be?”
“Guinness,” Landon said.
“Nothing for me,” answered Ryker.
A few minutes later, Guinness in hand, Landon looked around the club.
Red strobe lights, clinging from the black ceiling, flashed to the fast, electronic beat, spotlighting in synchronicity the dancers below, like a thousand red suns going supernova. Every dancer on the floor performed their own ritualistic maneuvers, their sexual prelude. The animalistic grinding on the dancefloor was inhibited only by the few clothes each mammal wore.
Grind partners came and went, as men and women shuffled among the opposite sex, then among their own.
Landon even noticed some partial shifting taking place, in the darkest of shadows, werewolf claws scraping the fangs of vampires, the latter drinking the few drops of blood in a sensual state of play.
Looking around the bar, he saw, at various interior intervals, stairs leading up from the dancefloor to private rooms, masked only back black curtains. Though the drapes were dark, matching the monochromatic scheme of the place, Landon could still make out the sexual interludes taking place. Sometimes, two or three from the floor would make their way up the few stairs, clearly interrupting those already using the space, yet no one exited.
Once, maybe twice, Landon noticed what appeared to be the forceful acceptance of someone’s advances, clearly a werewolf, or vampire, forcing themselves upon a mortal who found out too late the kind of bar they’d entered. He had to force himself to stay put, fighting his urge to leap to the rescue. They offender would get theirs, he’d make sure of it, but it had to wait. For just a few more moments.
“Meat markets,” Landon said, nearly yelling, over the music pumping throughout the establishment, the glass in the mirror behind the bar vibrating slightly. “That’s all these places are. I hate how things have become.”
“I know,” said Ryker. “What have we become? Being reduced to places like this where mortals think they’re in a regular bar, but are actually about to become food. There’s no pride anymore in being a vampire. Or, a werewolf, in your case. The hunt is gone. Where’s the glory?”
“Yeah, well, what’s the use in complaining? Nothing we can do about it.”
Suddenly, a middle-aged looking man sitting on the Ryker’s other side, leaned into the bar, looking at Landon.
“You guys sound like you’ve given up,” he said. “What you need is to be a part of something greater.”
“What are you talking about?” asked Ryker. “There is nothing greater. Our days of greatness our long passed.”
“That’s not true. My friends and I are on our way tonight to see a man, and a boy-king, about restoring both of our kinds to our former greatness.”
Landon and Ryker looked at each other, then turned to the man, both smiling.
“Really?” they said, in unison.
“Oh, hell yeah,” said the stranger. “A whole bunch of us are heading up to Scotland and, lucky for you it seems, stopped in here for a few drinks. You see, there’s this guy, Nicholas, and his son or something, Jamie, who are about to bring this whole fucking world to its knees. It’s gonna be so awesome. First, though, they gotta kill this asshole who’s trying to stop them. That’s actually why we’re going up there.”
“A whole bunch of you?” asked Landon. “How many are there?”
The stranger turned around on his barstool, facing the crowd, taking a drink of his beer.
“About a third of everyone you see here,” he said. “There’s about a hundred of us by now, I’d say. We started out small, but we’ve been gathering more and more on our way up through Europe. You guys seem pretty angry about the way things are. Come with us. There’s werewolves, like me, and vampires, too. You’d both be welcome. Man, I can’t wait to see the looks on this guy’s face when he sees what he’s up against.”
“Well,” began Landon, “why can’t we just take him out now? Why wait for Scotland? Hell, my friend and I could probably do it. What does he look like, he could be in here, right now?”
“I don’t know,” said the stranger. “I mean, there’s this video out, where that Nicholas guy is recruiting, but he never mentions what the guy looks like. All I know is, his name’s Landon Murphy. Even sounds like an asshole, to me. Besides, from what I hear, he’s probably got his own army coming.”
“Well, shit,” said Landon. “That sucks. I mean, what if he were in here, in this bar? We could kill him tonight. And you guys traveling all through Europe just to go to Scotland to find him. Hey, what if you did come across that guy? You’d be a hero, right? I mean, you’ve got all these people here with you, so it looks like it’d be pretty easy.”
“Oh, hell yeah, man,” the stranger said, taking another swig of his beer. “That’d be so cool. I bet we would be heroes.” He turned back around, facing the bar. “Ah, doesn’t matter. We wouldn’t be so lucky to have him show up here. If he did, though, you best believe, we’d kill him.”
“Is that right?” Landon said.
“Yeah.” The stranger finished his beer. “Well, what’d ya say? Are you guys in? You wanna come to Scotland and kill some idiot vampires and werewolves?”
Landon and Ryker looked at each other again.
“You know,” said Ryker, “I think we will go to Scotland and do just that.”
“First, though,” Landon began, “we got a line on some other idiot vampires and werewolves right here in London, that we need to take care of.”
“Shit, you guys need some help with that? Hey, I forgot to ask, what your names? I’m Claude.”
“I’m Ryker,” said the vampire, shaking Claude’s hand.
“I’m Landon. Landon Murphy.”
Claude exploded with laughter, now shaking Landon’s hand, then stopped, when he saw the other werewolf wasn’t returning the jest.
“A joke, right?” asked Claude. “You’re not really him.”
“Let me tell you what’s not a joke,” said Landon. “In about sixty seconds it’s going to get really ugly in here. I am Landon, and we started trailing you guys, for the last couple of hours, after we heard there was a new batch of recruits leaving France, heading for Kilchurn. Now, like you said, about a third of everyone in here is with you. The other two-thirds, however, plus some outside, are mine. And, if you’ll take a look around, they’re getting into position now.”
Claude looked around the club as the crowd suddenly shifted, an innumerable amount of werewolves and vampires casually taking various vantage points, encircling his people who continued to dance and drink, completely unaware of their impending doom.
Landon watched Claude turn back toward him.
“Now, you’ve got two options,” said Landon. “You can let this happen, quietly, and not take it outside, spilling into the streets. That’s actually the one I prefer. Or, you can try to get out of this, actually believing you can beat us.” Landon waited a few seconds, watching Claude stare at the floor. “Which is it?”
Then, Claude looked up.
“That one, huh?” Landon asked. “Okay.”
Chapter 30: Requiem
Claude shifted, springing from his barstool, alerting the werewolves and vampires in his cadre. Landon’s forces moved quickly, having already encircled their intended victims. Within seconds, blood showered the interior of the Twilight Zone nightclub, changing the motif from black to dark red.
Golden Earring’s song, Twilight Zone, the club’s namesake, thumped in all directions. Lights flashed and pulsated to the beat, creating a strobe effect as the creatures below tangoed to their dance of death.
Landon changed and charged, the powerful, red-furred werewolf giving chase to Claude, as the latter scaled the red-dotted dark walls, climbing toward the shadows of the ceiling. Landon didn’t bother to climb.
The great werewolf used the potent muscles in his massive legs to rocket himself to the highest point in the club, clawing his way into, and clinging to, the interior’s cap. He met Claude in the dark shadows.
Claude swiped at Landon and missed. His back feet dug deep into the ceiling, Landon grabbed Claude’s head with one arm, crushing it into the ceiling, as he took his other arm and, horizontally, sliced clean through his enemy’s back.
Landon dropped Claude’s upper torso to the dancefloor below, his lower-half still clinging to, dangling from, the dark, enclosed sky above.
The red werewolf looked down from the ceiling, watching Ryker use his significantly high-level telekinesis to pull the hearts out of his enemies without touc
hing them. Those unlucky enough to be touched, quickly had their throats slashed, heads ripped away from their necks, or eviscerated at the mid-section.
The Venetian Army, as Landon now like to refer to them, the majority not having seen a battle in decades, fought viciously to contain the onslaught within the building.
A large number of the enemy, however, fought their way past the youngest of Landon’s troops, making it out the door, and spilling into the streets of London.
Landon picked out a small group exiting the building and, dropping to the floor below, followed them out the door. Reaching the outside, he found the carnage flowed into the London streets like a flooded River Thames. Werewolves and vampires were fighting, killing, and dying, everywhere he looked. The screams of the dying mingled with those of mortal passers-by.
Still in werewolf form, he quickly gathered his thoughts, and trailed his group of five to a small, nearby movie theater in Knightsbridge. The marquee read An American Werewolf in London. The real werewolf bared his teeth, grinning at the irony, then refocused, entering the theater to flush out his prey.
The stench of popcorn, weighed down with gobs of butter, candy, and soda, nearly made him sick. Even in human form, he hated the smell of popcorn.
Moving swiftly to the screen room showing the movie, he realized that his group, the werewolves in it, had shifted, blending in with the patrons. It occurred to him that the theatergoers had been so busy watching the film, that no one had noticed a couple of nude people fill some seats. He had no choice.
Landon, on all fours, let out an earth-shaking roar, startling the mortals who at first believed it to be a gimmick, related to the movie, and didn’t flee. He then stood, and removed a seat bolted to the floor with one swipe. The people ran.
He spotted one nude male, who shifted immediately, as the other four escaped out the rear fire exits. Landon lunged at the werewolf, both crashing through the movie screen. As the projected panic played on the streets of London on the ripped screen, and on the actual streets outside, Landon slaughtered his enemy.
Jumping out the nearest exit, he picked up the scent again, and tracked the remaining four, east. Running down the road with increasing speed, he found one, a vampire, using a young couple, and their pet Yorkie, as a shield in front of Buckingham Palace. The Palace guards ran when they saw the werewolf approach.
