by R. E. Carr
“Did you really have to share that, Mina?” Lorcan asked.
“They would only ask. I figured, why not . . . head it off at the pass? It’s not like they don’t know, right, sister?”
The sheriff smiled blandly. “Now, as you all can see, I was treating Paige in the best possible manner I could. It isn’t as if I could announce to the world that I was making a clandestine arrangement with my sister to steal top-secret biological assets from Arthur and his allies, now could I? I really didn’t think bedside manner was going to be an issue with the amount of horse tranquilizer I had shot into that little bitch, but I guess I underestimated her. I also overestimated Antonova’s loyalty—two mistakes I shan’t repeat.”
“You knew about all this Mina and yet—”
“I’m telling you now, darling,” she said sweetly. “We keep getting interrupted from any real conversation. However, considering Paige’s condition, perhaps we should table everything until we can make sure both she and the baby are OK?”
“Why is it every time I think I know exactly who the bad guys are, I end up more confused?” Gail whispered to Steve.
“Because I’m pretty sure there are no bad guys, Pumpkin. No, I’m damn sure, we’re all the assholes. I’m starting to feel like the kids who have been rooting around in their parents’ things, and all we’ve done is make a mess of it all.”
“You are surprisingly wise, Steve,” Mina said, smiling. “What happened to you?”
Steve took Mina’s hand in his. The sheriff raised a brow yet said nothing. Steve put on his best aw-shucks face and blushed a little. “I dunno . . . got married, then ended up a widower in less than a month. That kinda thing changes a man, I guess.” He looked down sheepishly. “I’m literally not the man I used to be. I just hope in all this mess, we can find the time to catch up—maybe get some news as to what is really happening in Boston.”
“I . . .” Mina said, her eyes glazing over a little. The sheriff took the hint first.
“Sister, I am still the sheriff here, and I swear I will bring my daughter-in-law back safely. Steve needs all the help he can get. Allow Lorcan, the infant with the useful skills, and I to find your missing baby. We’ll be back before you know it. After all, I put a tracker in all my servants. It’s just a matter of time before we cut them off, and Mr. Sugar is already en route.”
“Very well,” Mina replied. “Come along, Steve. I have news about Geoffrey.”
“Oh god, I still can’t take the sight of those,” Paige whimpered as she watched Dr. Antonova peel a microchip out from under her skin. “Oh lord, it’s not aliens. You’re not being probed, Paige.”
Paige took a moment to wipe down the counter in the vet clinic they had hijacked. The Russian watched in fascination as Paige slowed her breathing and relaxed her muscles with each stroke of the paper towel.
“Is that . . . some kind of meditation?”
“Some kind,” Paige replied. “It’s what I do when I want to calm down and not change. If you’re mindful, the wolf isn’t so loud in the back of your head.”
The doctor’s eyes lit up. “It’s fascinating. I’ve never actually seen one of your kind actively fight change.”
“Yeah, it’s amazing what we are like when we aren’t in cages,” Paige growled. She eyed the bloody chip on the table. “Now, shouldn’t we get moving?”
The doctor nodded quickly. Paige took one more swipe at the table while Antonova plunked the chip into the biohazard receptacle. Paige stretched for a moment as they reached the car. She grabbed her back and marveled at her returned range of motion, even with what looked like a bowling ball strapped to her midsection. “Are you alright, volchitsa?”
Paige smiled. “Actually, I haven’t felt this good in weeks.” She cracked her knuckles—now all ten of them moved, and even her slightly smaller pair of fingers wiggled with ease. “I feel like I have energy again. What did you give me, doc?”
“Fluids, blood, and sedatives. Maybe you just needed to rest for few days to recover. It’s rather remarkable. Even for werewolf, you heal quickly. I don’t think sheriff anticipated this.”
“And here I thought the sheriff anticipated everything,” Paige muttered dryly. “Now give me the keys, and I’ll take you someplace safe to hole up.”
“You mean back to your pack?” Dr. Antonova asked. “The lab?”
“Back to the pack, but not to the lab. We have a place that’s a little more defensible. What’s with that look? You’re the one that wanted to study werewolves, and now you get to see them in their natural habitat.”
“It’s a little different going into a den of werewolves without thousand-year-old vampire watching your back. Of course, now I have to watch my back around vampire . . . Oh lord, this is—” Her hands shook as she handed Paige the keys.
“If it makes you feel any better, we deal with pissed-off ancient vampires all the time. I even survived a party with them,” Paige said, taking the wheel. “Most of them are more afraid of us than we are of them.”
Dr. Antonova nodded. “Werewolves are ancient enemy. It’s not just all nonsense from movies, you know, volchitsa. There was time when the Roman Empire fell that vampires were genuinely afraid of being wiped out. The Dark Ages were really rather dark.”
“Did the sheriff tell you that? Did she tell you how she supposedly made us extinct? I always wondered when she did that. . . because my pack never got the memo. Also, do you know how to get to I-40 from here?”
Dr. Antonova pulled out her phone and started up a GPS. She gasped as Paige snatched it and plugged in an address. “Pay attention to road!” The werewolf looked away, shamefaced. “Seriously, you may regenerate, but I won’t. Supernatural powers are no excuse for texting and driving.”
Paige cringed a little and rubbed her belly. “Sorry, little guy,” she muttered, and spent the next few minutes being extra attentive with her eyes locked on the road. Once safely on the highway, she sneaked one side glance at the white-knuckled Dr. Antonova. “So, yeah, did our illustrious sheriff—”
“It was during your American Civil War but down south in Mexico. Lord Pendragon was stirring up trouble and unavailable, so she got six other vampires to join her to defend little village in the desert from last pack of werewolves and their allies. Many vampires died in standoff, but werewolves were ultimately defeated. I think that may be where myth about silver bullets came from. It was apparently legendary shoot-out.”
“Seven gunmen defending a small village from a rampaging horde in Mexico. Why does that sound familiar?” Paige muttered. “It does kinda match up with what I heard on my side about werewolves in the Wild West, though.”
“Do werewolves keep records? I would be interested in hearing some lore.”
“I’ll leave you in the room with Billy for a while. He loves to talk about werewolf history, precious little of it that there is. He keeps a ledger called Notable and Noble Deaths, which is pretty much the sum total of werewolf lore.”
“Yes, I’ve never heard of werewolf dying of natural causes, even in captivity,” Dr. Antonova said softly. “The change . . . eventually takes them all.”
“What do you mean?” Paige asked, gripping the wheel tighter.
“Perhaps we should wait to have this conversation—”
“Oh no, we are having it now,” Paige said as the GPS voice commanded her to exit. “There are some statements you just don’t make without following up, doc.”
“There are long-term effects of transformation. The elevated levels of hormones and distortion of the skull lead to eventual . . . psychosis. Specifically, it leads to violent outbursts, bipolar depression, and dissociative breaks from reality. Even with drugs and behavioral therapy, inevitably all with virus break down—not to mention physical toll each transformation takes on body.”
“How long?”
“The oldest living werewolf was recorded at age fifty-two, and she only transformed few times. Most active werewolves don’t make it much past thirty-five. I’m
sorry, but I thought that you knew.”
“I know a werewolf that’s a little over two thousand, so I think you might have some flawed data,” Paige growled as her eyes remained laser-focused on traffic. “And somehow, I think being constantly threatened in captivity might lead to some skewed results.”
“I’d be interested to meet my original volchitsa, my father’s crowning achievement.”
“Her name is Nadia—and I don’t think she will be as excited to meet you as you are to meet her. She’s also the one who teaches us to stay calm.”
“Well, she was first werewolf born in captivity, so it is possible that she might live longer than wild stock. Look, I am sorry to be blunt, but if you want to see my science, I think it is only fair. You should know truth about—”
“About what? That my expected lifespan is less than a decade from now? That I’m probably not going to see this little guy off to kindergarten? I’m sorry, but I know more werewolves than you do, and we aren’t dropping off anytime soon.”
“It’s madness that gets you,” Dr. Antonova said, barely above a whisper. “It starts with feeling of invincibility. Soon you feel more powerful than any mere human. You might fancy yourself. . . protector even. The laws of right and wrong begin to hold less meaning. You start to question if you are animal, or if you just become them. You lash out, and you attack those you see as enemies—”
“Yeah, maybe we should table this until I’m not driving,” Paige said quickly. “Why don’t we talk about something else?”
“Like what?”
“I dunno, about you and your little gang with the sheriff. She seems to have quite a few bondsmen and even human servants.”
“Lung family has great deal of support staff, same as any noble family. We just had to hide better when we weren’t in Hong Kong. Lung family lent me to sheriff. Now, I’ve learned that Lady Lung only lent me to herself. It is rather remarkable when you think about it— vampire with shifting abilities is quite similar to someone with berserker virus.”
“Yeah, except we turn into big-ass dogs, and she can turn into anyone.”
“But that’s not true. There are berserkers that can turn into other animals—more bear-like or feline; but in actuality, only rare few can fully transform. Oh my—can you fully transform?” Paige rolled her eyes. The doctor practically bounced in her seat. “Oh, and tail! Now I understand—”
“Let’s lay off talking about me until we’re back at the lair. I want to hear about you, OK?”
“Yes, yes of course. I am scientist and doctor, and I fell into this life.”
“But you’re a bondsman. That doesn’t just happen—”
“Have you ever heard of Paroxysmal Nocturnal Hemoglobinuria?” Antonova asked.
“Um, no, sorry.”
“Do not worry, most people haven’t. It runs in my family, so we’ve had some interested benefactors for many generations. My father, he hoped that he could one day modify the berserker virus to keep my blood cells from decaying, without. . . other side effects; but in the end, there was only one affordable treatment. Lung family saved me and funded our research. As strange as it sounds, other servants became like family to me, especially after my father’s untimely passing. He was killed in terrible accident. What can I say? Soviet safety standards were not quite what you have today.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Ahh, accidents happen. When you work in top-secret lab full of werewolves next to munitions factory, it is recipe for disaster.”
“Oh . . . dear,” was all Paige could mutter in reply. “I really am sorry.”
“Not to be stereotypical, but I am Russian. These sorts of things, well, they are what they are, and I can’t change past. I think you can understand about finding new family when you don’t have much of your own. Sheriff may be cold, but she is fair, and rest of us have bonded over years of being on run from those who wanted us dead.”
“Now that I can relate to.” She drove in silence for a bit before looking over at the pensive Dr. Antonova. “So, if they are like your family—?”
“My life’s work has been studying werewolves. Sheriff knew this, but all she cared about was baby, even if it meant sacrificing you, Paige.”
“She wouldn’t . . .” Paige trailed off. Dr. Antonova choked up a little. Paige shook her head rapidly. “No. She wouldn’t do anything to me. Lorcan would never forgive her, and she needs his help to defeat Arthur.”
Paige pulled into a gas station. She licked her lips, tasting fear in the air. “What aren’t you telling me, doc? You said you wanted to help, right? You’re already in this pretty deep, so please don’t start being cagey now.”
Dr. Antonova gave a defeated sigh. “Only one mother ever survived giving birth to half-vampire, sheriff has records to back that up. Only reason you are still alive is because you are werewolf and receiving transfusions. She wanted an accident, ideally, with no intervention that could be traced back to her, and with baby intact.”
“Lorcan would—”
“Lorcan would be beside himself and full of rage—easy to manipulate, especially now that she is working with Lady Harker. It would be easy to convince man who had lost everything—”
“To go on a suicide mission to fight his father? I dunno, it seems both terrifyingly logical, and utterly ridiculous. She could—”
“She keeps talking about bringing back Mordred, bringing back killer. She wants revenge for someone named Beast or something like that. I’m sorry, but I don’t get all details. I just know that she wanted baby hidden, and you gone. Apparently, you are great deal of trouble to her . . . something about killing vampire.”
“Like she cares about the laws,” Paige said bitterly. “She wants Lorcan to kill his father, so I doubt she is really broken up about a few dead bloodsuckers who were making a mess and drawing attention to her operations.”
“You really did kill vampires?” Dr. Antonova asked. “Does your husband know?”
“Yes, he knows. Hell, he was there for one of them,” Paige blurted out. “And maybe it’s the monster in me or whatever you want to call it, but I don’t feel bad. Ping-Pong Lung was going to kill me and all my friends . . . and Silas? Well, he was a drug-dealing asshole who killed innocent women. You got a problem with that?”
Dr. Antonova gulped. “No, I guess now I understand more why sheriff would have to get rid of you. If it were ever to get out that she protected vampire killer, she could be stripped of her title if she didn’t take care of you. I don’t know much, but I do know that sheriff puts her own interests first. It is perfect scenario, tragic and perfectly plausible death, but it’s not going to happen now. We have taken care of that.”
“Yeah, we have. Can I use your phone? I think Lorcan might want to hear this little complication in his relationship with his mother.”
“Why don’t we get to lair first? If we tip off sheriff—”
“Good point,” Paige said as she started driving again. She banged her fist a few times as she seethed and snarled. “Damn it! She is so going to pay for this.”
“You’re not going to kill her too, are you?” Dr. Antonova asked meekly.
“I’ll wait until she tries to kill me again, then we’ll see.” Paige swung wide into a parking spot and smiled to Dr. Antonova as they arrived at a rather unassuming brick facade.
“This is your defensible position?” Antonova asked incredulously.
Paige ran straight to the kitchen door of DeMarco’s Spicy Balls. Her mother squealed and dropped the knife she was holding as she saw her only daughter running into the kitchen barefoot and very pregnant. “Oh my god, Paige!” Maria exclaimed. “Why are you in a hospital gown in my kitchen?”
“How long have I been missing?”
Maria cocked her head. “You called and said you were getting some girl time in. You’ve been so distracted lately, I thought it would be good for you. Let me guess—”
“Shapeshifting vampire can do crank calls too, Mom,” Paige replied. Both De
Marco women turned to see a tall Russian woman with frosted tips peek into the kitchen. “Mom, this is Dr. Antonova. Doc, this is my mom, Maria DeMarco.”
“Zenya,” Dr. Antonova said, extending her right hand. “I am specialist for, um—”
“Werewolves?” Maria asked with a sigh. She immediately turned back to Paige. “I know you don’t like telling me everything, but what the hell is going on?”
“Who is on guard duty today at the restaurant? Is Nadia around?”
“I thought you were off having girl time. Grizzly Adams and the Gentle Giant are here. I had them unpacking the walk-in, so I wouldn’t have to hear them argue about who would win in a battle between Aquaman and those creatures from The Abyss. Seriously, they argued for thirty minutes straight.”
“Oh my god, Paige. Why are you in a hospital gown in the kitchen?” a new voice asked as a blonde with a severe case of resting-bitch face peeked around a stack of pans with dough on her fingers. “Weren’t you off with all the real werewolf girls, while Cinderella was left making cannoli?”
“Tina, I wasn’t blowing you off, I was kidnapped,” Paige fired right back. Her old friend’s face immediately softened.
“Oh my god, you said that without a touch of irony.”
“Told you she wasn’t ditching you, Tina,” Maria said. The elder DeMarco wasted no time walking towards the office in the back. “Just tell me, kiddo, do I need to grab my gun or the bottle of good chianti at this point?”
“You got a gun here, Mom?” Before Paige could say any more, the other door in the back of the kitchen opened and two hairy, odiferous werewolves burst into the room, talking animatedly about Joel Schumacher classics.
“I don’t care what you say, The Lost Boys is the finest example of American bloodsucker cinema,” the bigger guy, Williams, said with flushed cheeks and wild eyes.
