by John Conroe
“You stink,” my partner said as we headed to the car. “I’ll drive and you can sit on a couple of garbage bags.”
I was covered in crud from wrestling the three filthy demon children. Awasos was clean as a whistle, a result of Changing forms. The rapid change in shape and mass left all the dirt and filth behind.
“Fine, as long as we swing through a KFC for a couple or three buckets of chicken or so. I’m hungry.”
“You’re always hungry! Worse than any were in the whole New York pack!”
She drove and I navigated, first through the nearest fried chicken emporium my smart phone could find, then to the hotel.
“Oh yeah, by the way, this necklace is for you,” I said, handing her the bear necklace I had held back.
“Wow, and you saved the biggest for me! You charmer!’ she said with a smirk.
“Yeah, since you’re hanging around me, you’ll need more protection than any of the others.”
Her smile vanished as she realized what my gift meant.
Chapter 6
Travel bag slung over one shoulder and chicken buckets stacked three high, I followed Stacia into the hotel office. The girl behind the desk—a were—was expecting us. She simply handed us two key cards and pointed us down the hall. Our rooms were on the first floor, just off the lobby. I immediately headed to the bathroom, bringing all the food with me because I didn’t trust the gleam in 'Sos’s eyes.
Fifteen minutes later, I was back out, showered, and dressed in sweats and a tee shirt. Awasos and I immediately started in on the chicken, devouring a bucket each. We left the third bucket alone, but were working our way through some of the side dishes of macaroni and cheese, mashed potatoes and gravy, as well as some biscuits when a knock on the door announced Stacia.
She smelled of shampoo and lotion, her hair wrapped in a towel. She was wearing a knee-length sleep shirt that seemed a bit demure for her. However, as she headed across the room toward the third bucket, I realized that thin cotton can cling almost as well as silk. Despite the more interesting views, I still noticed that she was wearing her new necklace. It appeared to be her only bling.
“You better have left me some chicken!”
“We haven’t touched that one, but I hope you weren’t set on getting any mashed potatoes?”
“Bastards!”
My hunger mostly abated by the earlier feeding frenzy, I climbed onto my bed and watched her attack the poultry. She might not be in same eating league as my furry pal and me, but she was no slouch, as she systematically destroyed most of the bucket by herself. 'Sos and I watched, waiting to see if she left any behind. Suddenly, in mid-bite, she stopped and threw her half-finished piece toward the beast by my feet. “Done!” she announced.
Sos snapped it out of the air and still beat me to the remaining food, but we managed to work out a division of the last three pieces without bloodshed.
“You two are something,” she laughed, watching our negotiations.
“We each burn something like ten thousand calories a day, more if we’re active. Eating is only slightly behind breathing for importance.”
She nodded, then looked thoughtful. “So—gateway to Hell?” she asked suddenly.
I paused in mid-bite. “Yeah, that’s what I think it is. Deep swirling hole, demonic voices, disappearing bodies. You know, the standard stuff.”
She didn’t say anything for a moment, instead settling on other double bed and drawing her legs up to her chin, her nightshirt pulled down to her ankles. I’ve seen other girls do that. I call it an upright fetal position and it usually (in my humble opinion) indicates uncertainty, vulnerability, and some anxiety.
Awasos seemed to get the same impression; he jumped up on the bed and curled his wolf bulk around her. The effect was immediate, as she leaned back into his mass and relaxed her arms a bit.
“So what now?”
“Tonight, not so much. We only stopped for one short meal break on the way down, drove all day to get here, and then faced down the children of doom and the FBI. So we go to bed,” I said.
She arched one eyebrow suggestively.
“Sleep! We go to sleep!” I clarified.
She laughed, enjoying my discomfort, then got serious again. “Can you close it?”
“I honestly don’t know. I’m pretty sure that there’s gotta be a way and my source for info is tied into the top, so we should be all right.”
“Tied into the top?” she asked.
I pointed up to the ceiling.
She looked up, then mouthed an oh! of realization. “I could feel it when you exorcised each of the girls. Even down on the second floor, it was very clear.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard that it’s pretty obvious,” I said.
“So you’re really God’s Chosen warrior?”
“That’s what I’m told. I don’t really talk to the Big Guy myself,” I replied.
“Why not? I mean shouldn’t you be all Bat phone from God and all that?’
I shrugged. “There’s no employee handbook. I don’t even remember an interview. Just bam, you’re now the Demon Hammer. Well, actually, first you gotta have your family hacked all up by a demon, you know, to instill the proper motivations and all,” I said, attempting glib. It came out more than a bit bitter.
“I heard something about that. I was pretty messed up over losing my Dad in Iraq. I can’t imagine hearing your family get ax...er...murdered,” she said with a shake of her head.
I just barely stopped my knees from pulling toward my chin. Men do not ever assume the upright fetal position! Against the Guy Code.
“So who do you talk to? A priest or rabbi or someone?”
“Someone,” I agreed.
She pinned me with narrowed emerald green eyes. “So what, you can’t tell me? I’m not trustworthy?”
I sighed. “No Stacia, that’s not it. It’s just that my life has gotten really crazy over the last couple years. I have a hard time processing everything. It’s just easier to go with the flow than to stop and dissect it all. So I have a hard time saying some of it out loud,” I said, then went on in a rush. “My main contact is an Angel, alright?”
She didn’t say anything for a moment, just digested that little snippet of information while studying me carefully.
“Which one? Michael?”
I shook my head. “Barbiel.”
“Oh, I remember that name. Can’t remember much else, though,” she said.
“You know of Barbiel?” I questioned, incredulous.
Her eyes flashed green fire. “What, you think I never set foot in a church?” she said, instantly offended.
“Whoa there! I’ve never met anyone other than a couple of priests that had heard that name before. I’m not judging you.”
“Yeah, right! Like you guys don’t all judge me,” she said.
“Wow, where did that come from? I tell you I get my pre-game pep talks from an angel and you think I’m judging you?”
She stared at me for a bit, still frowning, still angry.
“All my life people have judged me, mostly on my looks. They always think dumb blonde or she must be a slut because she looks like that. You and your buddy Chet think I’m some kinda slut, don’t you?”
“What have I ever done or said that would make you think that?” I said, thoroughly shocked and now more than a little offended, myself.
“You’ve been standoffish with me since we met. You always act like I’m about to ruin your virtue or something. And Chet? Well, he as much as said he thinks I sleep around.”
I studied her for moment while I fought my temper back into place.
“Did it ever occur to you that I might feel just a teensy bit guilty that you’re infected with the LV virus and I could have prevented that? That my fuck-up caused you to become a werewolf for the rest of your life? Oh, I’ll admit that I figured you know more about sex than I do, but then, I figure almost everyone knows more than I do. I mean, after all, look at the circumstances of our meetin
g. You were pretty much in the middle of a hook-up.”
She blushed at that, but I held up my hand before she could speak.
“But so what. Attractive people have more opportunities for relationships; that’s just how it is. But I never thought you were slutty or dumb. I pretty much thought you were likely the bravest person I had ever met…faced with a fucking werewolf ripping through your tent, biting your fucking leg and then listening, in pitch black, to a freak like me kill it for shits and giggles. Then you opened your mouth and pretty much everything you said was calm and intelligent. Standing naked in a thong with a bite outta your leg and you were calmer than I was. So, no Stacia, I haven’t judged you to be slutty. I never even heard of you dating any of the Pack. But men swarm about you like flies and you handle them like an orchestra director. You’re completely matter–of-fact about your body, while I’ve mostly lived like a monk. So if I come off as standoffish, you might take some of that into consideration.”
She started to come back with a comment but stopped herself, instead staring at me intensely, brow furrowed.
“You are attracted to me!” she said suddenly, like a light bulb had gone off over her head.
“Ah, earth to Stacia…come in, Stacia. This just in…everything male is attracted to you! Of course I find you attractive. What’s that got to do with anything?”
“You’ve never hit on me,” she said, uncertain. “I thought you found me repulsive or something.”
“Stacia, I’ve been with Tanya since before I met you.”
“Like that ever stopped any guy from hitting on me,” she said with a snort. I frowned at her.
She sighed, blushed a little, and then explained. “People started to compliment my looks when I was a little girl. Then, at eleven, I started to develop and males started to check me out, which was creepy as hell. Boys my own age right up through high school guys. But the grown men were the creepiest. People I had known my whole life started to stare. By the time I was sixteen, I had been approached to be a stripper three times and one guy wanted me to shoot porn movies. My uncle, the cop, took care of him. Got some other troopers to pull him over and search his car. They found lots of illegal stuff, kiddie porn, drugs, all sorts. I’ve been propositioned by married men, college guys, town officials, you name it. Almost every guy I’ve met since puberty comes on to me at least a little. Except gay guys and you. But you didn’t set off my gaydar. Then I find out that you’re God’s Chosen and I figured you thought I was a whore or something. Of course, you were dating a blood sucker, so that was hard to swallow.”
“Hunting demons has been my whole life, and I’m actually pretty damn good at it. So they go after anyone I get close to. I never had a girlfriend before Tanya. I met her when she was attacked by a demon, so there didn’t seem to be any worse damage I could do.”
She fingered the soapstone bear around her neck. “You’re worried about drawing demons to everyone you meet?”
I nodded.
“Why didn’t you give me a wolf necklace? The wolf would fit me better,” she observed, changing the topic.
“But the bear is my totem animal,” I replied.
“Oh! So this bear dude hanging around my neck is a proxy for you?” she asked, eyes gleaming.
Suddenly nervous, for no apparent reason, I tried to clarify. “Sorta. It’s probably mental imagery or something, but it helps me to pack more power in some fetishes than others,” I said.
“Fetishes? I kinda like the sound of that,” she smirked.
“Not that kind of fetish, Stacia,” I said in a hurry.
“So my little bear fetish is you?” she asked, voice suggestive as she looked me in the eye. She was holding the bear between two fingers and now she pulled her night shirt open (a bit farther than strictly necessary) and dropped the bear down between her unencumbered breasts.
I found my throat was suddenly dry and the room was stuffy and hot.
“Well, long day tomorrow. We should get some shuteye,” I said, heading for the door.
My hand was already on the knob when I remembered that we were in my room, not hers. Embarrassed, I turned back to her smirking face. She was now lying back against the wolf with her legs stretched out in front of her, the thin cotton clinging and emphasizing when it was supposed to be covering and hiding. She smiled at me, obviously enjoying my discomfort. Climbing smoothly to her feet, she patted Awasos on his head then padded across the room, brushing by me as she got to the door.
“Good talk, hero. Let’s continue this at breakfast. I’ve got lots of questions.”
She slipped out the door, holding my eyes with hers as she gently closed it behind her.
I breathed out a huge breath, suddenly aware that I had been holding it.
Awasos watched me as I picked up the empty chicken buckets and put them outside the door.
“What?”
He just put his head down on his paws and closed his eyes.
I turned out the lights and climbed into my bed, but it took much longer than normal to fall asleep.
Chapter 7
“Slide over.”
“Good morning to you, too, Stacia,” I said, getting a glare in response as I shifted one chair over. Stacia wasn’t her best early in the morning. Ned Granger’s eyebrows rose in an amused expression as he watched our little byplay.
I poured her a cup of coffee from the pot on the table, then passed the cream and sugar, both of which she applied liberally.
“Ned was just about to tell me about the murders,” I said around a bite of sausage.
“About a month and a half ago, Simon Masten, the other Alpha at the bar last night, called me. His pack was based in Kentucky. He asked permission to visit my territory with some of his pack: three females and three males. I agreed,” Granger explained.
We were in a private conference room in the hotel. It had several tables laid out for breakfast, but we only occupied one. The three of us looked as one to the door that was suddenly shoved open by a massive arm. Jep held it for the teenage waitress who was serving us. She came through with a tray bigger than she was, loaded with breakfast plates. Jep’s other arm held a similar tray, this one with extra platters of bacon, sausage, scrambled eggs, hash browns, and toast.
The redheaded girl quickly placed heavily loaded plates in front of Ned and myself. I also got a smile to go with my food. “Thank you, Jetta,” Ned said to the girl, who nodded and grabbed two more plates of food, one of which she set in front of Stacia with a tight-lipped smile, the other on the floor in front of the furry ottoman by my side. ‘Sos got a pat on the head, then the young human was setting additional food on a table next to ours so we could easily reach it. Jep settled in next to Granger with a huge platter for himself.
“Ya need anything else, Mr. Granger?” the girl asked with a soft Southern accent. She was cute, young, and wore too much perfume. Her hair was a deep red, long and wavy.
“I think we’re good for the moment, Jetta, but maybe check back in a few minutes,” he answered glancing with amusement at the extra food I was piling on first my plate and then Awasos’s.
The girl left, and Granger continued to speak.
“I’ve known Simon for about ten years, ever since he took over the Kentucky pack. We got along fine, but he bore watching. Anyway, he shows up here a few days after we spoke but only has two males with him. Then I find out the third was murdered a day after he called. Not only that, but the two he has with him are his last male weres. The others have all been killed off, one at a time.”
“How were they killed, Ned?" I asked, reaching for a third piece of ham but getting my hand batted down by Stacia, who snagged it for herself with a slight growl.
“Gunshot wounds to the head.”
“Silver bullets?” I asked.
“Well, no not really. Sorta,” he said unhelpfully. I raised eyebrows at him but kept eating.
“.38 caliber lead bullets, but they were hard cast and the lead alloy had some silver in it. The bu
llets were delivered to the brain stem from real close and there was enough silver to count.”
Stacia turned to me. “Silver in lead?”
“Some companies cast lead bullets for reloading cartridges. They sometimes have trace amounts of silver for extra hardness,” I answered.
