The Darkly Stewart Mysteries: Light and Darkly

by DG Wood

  With all the pre-show preparations accomplished, Darkly arrived early at the Cha Cha Lounge in the trendy L.A. neighborhood of Silver Lake. So, she crossed the road to The Red Lion pub. Darkly’s adopted name, Schilling, meant she’d developed a taste for schnitzel, German beer, and everything pickled. German tapas, as Darkly’s mother called it. So, she was happily surprised to learn The Red Lion was a German pub.

  Darkly walked into the Cha Cha Lounge no longer hungry and pleasantly buzzed. Toma was enjoying a pre-show drink at the bar. He wasn’t alone. The elegant, middle-aged woman she’d seen at the venue in West Hollywood was with him. It seems she wasn’t an undercover LAPD detective, after all. Unless Toma was one too? Toma leapt out of his chair and took Darkly’s arm the moment he saw her.

  “Darkly. You came.”

  “I said I would.”

  “I want you to meet my manager. Cassandra, this is Darkly Stewart.”

  Cassandra slid off a bar stool next to the tiki bar and reached out a hand with the longest fingers Darkly had ever seen. When Darkly accepted Cassandra’s gesture, she found herself in a handshake she wasn’t certain would end. Cassandra then placed her other hand over top of Darkly’s, and the trap door was set.

  “You are all Toma has spoken about today. I can see why,” Cassandra said with a British accent.

  Cassandra looked into Darkly’s eyes as though she was examining her brain for imperfections.

  Toma moved Darkly towards a whicker barstool, forcing Cassandra to let go of Darkly’s hand. Darkly took a seat, and Toma signaled the bartender with three fingers. He plopped down three beers on the bar.

  “Cassandra is our angel. There wouldn’t be a band without her,” explained Toma. “She’s funded everything from the start.”

  “I know talent when I see it,” Cassandra reassured Toma, feeding an only growing ego.

  Darkly felt there was something telling about Cassandra in the word see. She didn’t say hear. She wondered if Toma had to do something more than sing to get her to cut a cheque. That led Darkly to wonder if she was capable of simply enjoying anything, or did she need to analyze every situation, even on a forced few hours break from her job?

  “Cassandra gave the band its name,” Toma added.

  “Why Moonkill?” Darkly asked.

  Cassandra leaned in close to Darkly for the answer.

  “You know, I read somewhere that murders are more likely to take place on a full moon night. After that, the name came about naturally. Toma kills it onstage, and it’s almost always at night when he plays.”

  Cassandra laughed.

  “The truth is, Darkly, I always have had a bit of a macabre nature, and Toma didn’t have anything better up his sleeve.”

  Toma downed his beer.

  “Well, I better get up there. Stick around till the very end. I’ve got a surprise for you. The drinks are on my tab tonight.”

  Cassandra winked at Darkly.

  “By his tab, he means mine.”

  Darkly watched Toma walk under the hanging Day of the Dead décor up to the small stage and join his bandmates, who had been chilling at a booth table directly offstage.

  The first set was good by most standards. Darkly appreciated the band’s interesting takes on a couple of well-worn covers, like Helter Skelter sung as a ballad. But, it was the second set that found Darkly losing a sense of time, as she found herself sucked into a song about permanent loss. A path of perilous emotional detachment lay before the singer, with no hope for reconciliation with his own true nature. Darkly looked over at Cassandra, but the bar stool was now empty. On the bar, was a printed tab and several large bills.

  Toma thanked the crowd for showing up and announced his last song. Darkly decided she would freshen up, and walked to the back of the room, where a vending machine held every kind of oddity. There were packs of trading cards from 1980s television hits, miniature versions of The Communist Manifesto, t-shirts with the club’s skull logo on them, and candy cigarettes.

  Darkly pushed the door open to the women’s room and walked into a pentagram shaped room lined with a sink and black wooden panels. One of the wooden panels opened, and a woman with blue hair stepped out to wash her hands. Darkly pushed on another panel and found herself peering into a pink and black tiled cubicle with a toilet in the center of it. She stepped inside and locked the latch on the door.

  Darkly’s mind was suddenly racing back to chasing Marielle into the women’s room at the Achoo club. What if all wasn’t as it seemed in that women’s room? Darkly heard Toma’s voice hitting the final note of the song, as she re-emerged into the lounge.

  Darkly found a fresh drink waiting for her at the bar. She picked up the bottle of beer and found a slip of paper underneath. There was a semblance of an address written on the paper. Hollywood Sign parking, North Beachwood Drive. Meet me. You won’t be disappointed. Toma.

  Darkly looked over at Toma, packing up his gear onstage. He made eye contact with her briefly, smiled, picked up his guitar case and headed out the back of the building. So, that was it, was it? A dare? Darkly felt her courage was being challenged. She could handle a twenty-something, spoiled kid from SoCal. She’d show up, thank him for a great evening, then get back in her car, drive to the little flat in Echo Park and resume her search for Marielle the next day.

  Darkly winded her way up into the Hollywood Hills past homes that would cost a couple hundred thousand anywhere else, but were a million and above on Beachwood Drive. The road eventually dead-ended at a parking lot, over which the Hollywood sign loomed farther away than it appeared. The barrier was down, so Darkly couldn’t drive inside, the way her GPS wanted her to. But, that was no matter. Toma was leaning against the barrier, smiling.

  Darkly pulled the car over onto the side of the road and rolled down her window. Toma walked over and hung over the window, a little too close for comfort.

  “I bet you thought I was hitting on you, didn’t you? Expected to show up for a make-out session in the back of my car?”

  “Something like that,” Darkly answered.

  “Well, I guess I’m not that corny. Truth is, I’m always wired after a show. I usually go for a run. With the moon as my running partner.”

  Toma let that sink in.

  “But, I was thinking tonight, what about a hike? Everyone knows you have to do the sign at least once. It’s iconic. What do you say?”

  “It’s late, Toma.”

  Darkly thought she caught a glare in Toma’s eyes. Ever so briefly. A look that said get out of the car, bitch. But it passed.

  “You’re right,” Toma admitted defeat. “Another time. When it’s not so… dark. Good night, Darkly.”

  Toma tapped the top of Darkly’s car and walked up ahead to what Darkly assumed was his own car.

  “Goodnight, Toma. You were really great tonight,” Darkly called out.

  Toma opened the door to his car and turned to waive.

  “By the way,” Toma called back. “Marielle says hello.”

  Toma then slammed the door without getting in and jogged into the darkness at the end of the parking lot.

  Darkly was dumbstruck. This had taken an unexpected turn. Now she remembered where she had seen Toma before. In Toronto, over a year ago, on the night she met Marielle. Tom, as he called himself then. A nerdy college kid looking to pop his cherry. And along came a lady werewolf with an insatiable sexual appetite. It was quite the transformation that encounter inspired in Tom.

  “Goddammit.”

  Now Darkly had to follow him. She opened the glove compartment and pulled out her gun. She checked the cartridge for bullets out of habit.

  “Shit,” she said to herself. “They’re not silver. It will have to do, Darkly.”

  She didn’t want to kill the rock star wannabe, but she knew better to be prepared for the unexpected.”

  Darkly got out of the car and leapt into the darkness, her gun in hand.

  At the end of the parking spaces, Darkly’s eyesight had adjusted
well enough to find the trailhead that led up to the Hollywood sign. She hit the dirt running, but then slowed to pace herself. It was a hell of an incline. She’d be out of breath in less than a quarter of a mile. She was sure Toma was counting on that. For all she knew, he’d already become a wolf.

  Darkly estimated a mile to a mile and a half as the crow flies to get to the sign. But, the trail was bound to wind another mile or so. As she ascended, the lights of L.A. became a more expansive white, yellow and red glow below her. Every sound, a rustle in the brush, a twig snap, a flapping wind, an insect’s call…they were all a wolf to Darkly.

  Darkly checked her phone. She was forty-five minutes into the ascent, with about a hundred yards to go. She had no reception. She was completely alone. That’s okay, she reassured herself. She’d been in such a place before.

  On the final approach to the lit sign, Darkly sensed movement up ahead.

  “Toma? Or is it Tom? I just want to talk.”

  “Talking wasn’t what I had in mind,” responded the disembodied voice.

  Darkly jumped out of her skin. She whirled around. Toma’s voice sounded like a whisper in her ear. There was nothing there. The next thing she heard was a woman’s laughter. She recognized it immediately. It was Cassandra. Great. Two wolves.

  Hope dashed into Darkly’s brain in the form of Ennis’s wolf whistle. She felt the breast pocket of her jacket and traced the outline of the whistle with her fingers. She pulled it out and popped it into her mouth and blew.

  The hillside around her erupted in yelping and whining, and a fist slammed into her jaw, causing the whistle to go flying.

  “That wasn’t very nice,” complained Toma in a theatrical voice. Then he was gone again.

  Darkly fell to the ground and felt around frantically for the whistle. It was Cassandra who served the next volley.

  “Darkly Stewart. The little Mountie girl who wishes she was wolf. We know all about you.”

  The next thing Darkly knew, Cassandra’s impossibly long fingers were tangled up in her hair and dragging her to her feet. Darkly hit out, as she was trained, and Cassandra blocked the move. Strike and parry followed again and again. Darkly was dealing with no amateur. Someone who at the very least had the money to hire a fight instructor.

  Darkly and Cassandra took a step back from one another. Toma stepped out of the brush to join Cassandra. He was naked.

  “They’re luxury labels. No point in ruining them,” said Toma, off Darkly’s look.

  The brush around Darkly shook with movement. She pulled her gun from her belt and pointed it into the dark, then at Cassandra and Toma.

  “Don’t worry, darling. They’re not going to kill you,” Cassandra assured Darkly.

  “I am,” Toma added.

  “His first kill. Hand-picked by me.”

  That explained why Darkly had not tasted murder in her mouth when she became reacquainted with Tom. Now, she was damn curious.

  “Who killed the scoutmaster? Marielle?” Darkly finally spoke.

  “His band. I’ve indoctrinated them all,” Cassandra explained. “But, I knew it needed to be someone special for my special pet.”

  Toma’s band circled the small party in wolf form. Cassandra reached out to grab Toma’s hard cock.

  “Look how excited he is. He can’t wait.”

  Then Toma began to change. Darkly watched in horror as his face elongated, his back snapped, and a hump thrust out of his back.

  “When Marielle spilled the beans,” Cassandra continued, “I knew we’d found his ideal prey. The poor little wolf girl, Darkly. Only, she’s not a wolf at all. She’s defective. A reject.”

  Toma collapsed to the dirt on all fours, his face now more wolf than human. He looked up at Darkly, hunger in his eyes.

  “Almost there,” Cassandra said with glee. “Get ready, get set. Go!”

  Toma, now almost all wolf except for a couple of ears that looked like they belonged on one of Santa’s demented elves, inched forward.

  At that very moment, a shrill croak filled the air, and a raven plunged down between Toma and Darkly. It pecked at the dirt on the trail and flung Darkly’s lost whistle, now found, up into the air with its beak. Darkly raced forward, diving for the whistle, as Toma leapt into the air to snap his jaws at the raven, that was now escaping into the black night from whence it appeared. Missing its target, Toma landed a foot from Darkly, as she raised the whistle to her mouth. She could feel his hot breath on her face.

  Darkly blew into the metal hole and released the longest breath she had ever inhaled. The result was as though Toma had slammed into a brick wall. He turned his head to bury his snout under his paws. Darkly leveled her gun at Cassandra and fired. Cassandra dove for the brush the second she saw Darkly point the gun at her. The gunshots echoed across the hills, and dogs everywhere began barking.

  As for Toma and his band of wolves, they turned in circles and howled in agony. When Darkly took a breath, Toma and the other wolves recovered and leapt for her. Toma’s claw ripped through her shoe and dug into her flesh, as she blew the whistle again with all her might. At that point, each wolf turned tail and ran down the hill, instinctually knowing only distance could silence the pain.

  Darkly turned in circles, leveling her gun at every imagined attack. Cassandra was still out there. The wolves would come back. Think, Darkly, think, she thought. It was half an hour minimum down the hill. What was above her? There’s a radio tower and a bunker of some sort. Maybe there was someone on duty. If she was lucky, there was someone. Maybe that raven would return and carry her out of this place. How crazy was that bird?

  Darkly ran for the sign and climbed the steep incline behind it. She needed to slip her gun under her belt, as it took both hands to climb. She thrust her nails into the dirt and scrambled up the hill as fast as she may have done on two legs. Maybe she was suited to a life on all fours, after all. The whistle remained in Darkly’s mouth, and every exhale emitted the silent torture. In this instance, it was better than a firearm.

  Twenty minutes later, Darkly pulled herself up over the top and returned to her feet to jog towards a bunker under a red and white radio tower. She propelled herself onto the chain link fence that encircled the bunker, climbed to the top and dropped down on the other side. There was a pickup truck parked outside the door to the bunker. She raced past it to bang on the door. No answer. Her ears picked up the sound of automobile shocks squeaking. The noise a truck makes bouncing down a bumpy road. Darkly looked back to see the truck shaking slightly.

  She walked up to the truck and peered through the fogged-up driver’s side window. A naked foot hit the window and smudged the condensation. Then came the unmistakable accelerated moans of finishing the job. The truck stopped moving, and Darkly knocked on the window. Commotion replaced ecstasy in the cab.

  “What the fuck?” a man’s voice yelled.

  The window rolled down as fast as a hand-cranked window could go. A pudgy nondescript sort of guy glared back at her, pulling on his shirt.

  “Where did you come from?” He asked angrily.

  Darkly looked past the guy to the naked girl sinking into the other corner of the cab. It was Marielle. Darkly grabbed the handle to the driver’s door and yanked it open. The guy grabbed the inside of the door and tried to pull it shut again. But, Marielle took advantage of the opportunity to kick the guy in the head and push him out of the door.

  Darkly broke his fall, taking all his weight. In the time it took her to push him off, Marielle had slid behind the wheel and started the engine. She threw the gearshift into reverse and gunned the accelerator. Marielle backed the truck at full speed through the chain link gate and undertook a three-point turn, during which time Darkly managed to catch up with the truck. She leapt into the bed of the pickup, as Marielle sped off, now facing the right direction.

  Darkly looked behind her to see a pack of wolves entering the now unprotected compound. She watched in horror as Marielle’s john ran for the door to the compound. H
e felt his naked ass, where his pockets should have been. The situation was hopeless. Darkly blew on the whistle that was firmly clenched in her teeth, but Marielle had put too much distance between the wolves and them for it to be anything more than an annoyance. She pulled her gun and took aim, as two wolves latched on to the man’s arms. They were going to literally rip him apart. He was going to face the worst possible death imaginable.

  The truck jolted and swerved. Darkly understood that Marielle was trying to throw her out of the truck. She only had the opportunity to take one shot before the line of shot would disappear, as they careened down the Hollywood Hills. She took it. The bullet hit the guy who was in the wrong place at the wrong time square between the eyes. He wouldn’t feel any more pain. The beauty of it, of course, is that he would wake up in the morgue ready to tackle a brave new chapter in his life. Thanks to Marielle. The gunshot also scattered the attacking wolves.

  Darkly looked back at the woman she had been hunting. What she saw instead of a human form was a wolf leaping out of the passenger window. The truck was driverless and drifted off to the right. The vehicle hit the earth ridge at the side of the dirt road and was airborne. Darkly knew it would come crashing down on the forty-five-degree angle of the hill and begin a tumble that would result in her broken neck at best. She wasn’t willing to bet that she would wake up in the morgue fully repaired. So, she leapt out of the bed of the truck, hit the ground and rolled.

  She got up as quickly as a paratrooper and ran down the road that led back to civilization. Five seconds later, she heard the truck explode. Ten seconds after that, she heard the first police siren. It was then Darkly realized she had lost the whistle for good.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Darkly poured herself a shot of tequila from the bottle she found in the freezer of her new home. There were so many questions she needed answers to. Who was Cassandra, really? Did that raven follow here thousands of miles, or were all ravens her personal protectors now? How did Marielle fit into all of this? And where the hell was Buck?