The Wereling 1: Wounded

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The Wereling 1: Wounded Page 14

by Stephen Cole


  Tom swung himself out of the car and followed Blood to the red front door. Six or seven locks glinted in the fuzzy glare of the streetlamp across the road.

  ‘Don’t like this,’ muttered Blood. ‘Security lights aren’t working. The place should be floodlit by now.’ He put a key to one of the locks. The door swung silently open.

  ‘Someone’s broken in,’ he murmured. He moved cautiously inside, flicked a switch.

  Tom blinked in the sudden light. The hall and the living room beyond were tastefully decked out in pale and paler blues. There didn’t seem to be an ornament in the place, and barely any furniture. ‘Looks like you’ve been cleared out,’ he said.

  ‘It’s tastefully minimalist, you cheeky young swine,’ huffed Blood, slipping back into his posh voice for a second. ‘And this wasn’t an ordinary break-in. My home office is upstairs, that’s where they’ll have made for.’

  ‘They?’ Tom echoed.

  ‘Those purebloods you pissed off, remember them?’ Blood stomped up the stairs to the landing. ‘I think they’re taking it out on me … ’ He threw open a heavy wooden door, and stopped dead. ‘That was an understatement.’

  Tom stared in dismay around the open, airy office. It had been totally trashed. Chairs and tables lay smashed or overturned. The floor was strewn with files and papers and photographs, with books and broken bric-a-brac. A computer monitor, its connecting wires ripped out, had fallen face down in the sea of debris as if unable to stare out over the wreckage any longer.

  Then Tom noticed that Blood was staring at something else across the room. He looked in the same direction. A message had been daubed in crimson over one tastefully pale cream wall.

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  JICAQUE STAYS HIDDEN IF YOU WANT GIRL TO LIVE

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  AWAIT FURTHER INSTRUCTIONS

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  WE’RE WATCHING YOU

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  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  ‘Gorgon knockers,’ breathed Blood. He stared about, taking in the damage, his brown hair flopping about frantically like it was having its own private drama. ‘Seems my subtle enquiries about the old medicine man haven’t been as subtle as I thought.’ He glanced at Tom. ‘Or else they saw you come to me and popped round to prepare a welcome.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ said Tom, ashen-faced. ‘This is my fault.’

  ‘Yeah, it is,’ Blood said sharply. Then he sighed. ‘Look, don’t give yourself a hernia. New Orleans is probably the only city on earth where insurance firms will actually cover you for “acts of werewolf”.’

  ‘They could kill Kate.’ Tom paced restlessly. ‘What are we going to do?’

  Blood looked at him warily. ‘Before we rush off into any other serious messes I think you should tell me exactly what’s going on. Like how you got involved with these bloody ’wolves – miserable, murdering, flea-ridden— ’

  ‘I’m one of them,’ said Tom.

  Blood took an instinctive jump back, skidding on an old paperback and almost falling over as he did so. ‘You’re lupine?’ He glanced out at the night sky through the window nervously, then snapped his fingers. ‘You’re the one who ran through the city … ’

  ‘That’s right. The purebloods after us are Kate’s parents. They turned me as a mate for her. She’s pureblood too but her ’wolf’s not activated yet. It’s why I need to see Jicaque. I need the cure.’

  Blood nodded, and sat down nervously on the upturned monitor. ‘Well, while we wait for “further instructions” … you’d better tell me everything.’ He sighed heavily. ‘I can tell this is going to be a very long night.’

  The dim light stayed sullenly on in Kate’s storeroom cell, the drowsy hum of the cooling systems never faltering. She wondered how long she’d been here, chained to the seat. Every time her eyes slipped shut Patience would bark at her to wake up, jolting her back into reality. Or else she’d produce the key to Kate’s chain with a cruel smile, place it on the table almost within reach, then hide it from sight in her blouse pocket.

  Now the old woman watched her from across the desk, sipping from a steaming cup of coffee. ‘Mmm, I can’t get enough of that caffeine kick,’ she murmured, setting the cup down with her twisted hand and pouring more from a thermos. ‘Can do without blood for a time if I must, but fresh ground? No way.’ She chuckled. ‘Bet you’re thirsty, right?’

  Kate nodded.

  Patience leaned forward over the desk and spat in her face. ‘Drink it all down now,’ she chuckled.

  Kate wiped her cheek with her sleeve, fighting back the panic that threatened to overwhelm her. She was trapped here, surrounded by ’wolves, while her mother drew ever closer, like a gathering darkness.

  There had to be something she could do.

  ‘Laugh while you can, Patience,’ she said, as she slipped her hands in her pockets and discreetly searched their contents. Lip gloss. A wallet. ‘You’ve told Nigel – sorry, Takapa – all you know, and now you’ve been assigned guard duty to a girl who’s already chained up. It’s about all an old cripple like you can manage, right?’

  A knuckle-duster?

  ‘Shut up,’ Patience hissed.

  How can I get it on my fingers without her noticing? ‘So when they’re through with me here,’ Kate said, ‘you can betcha they’ll be through with you too.’ Two quarters. Skull ring souvenirs from the trick-or-treaters. ‘You failed, Patience. You let us go, you drew attention to your kind. And now you’ve spilled your guts, what’s to stop Takapa just eating them up? You’re of more value to him as meat than as anything else.’

  ‘That ain’t true!’ Patience yelled in anger.

  But Kate could see the dull spark of fear in her eyes.

  A loud buzzer sounded suddenly, silencing them both. The door. They stared at it in horror.

  Kate’s fingers squeezed instinctively around the skull ring in her hand. With a click it popped open against her fingers.

  Patience manoeuvred her chair around and wheeled herself slowly over to the door.

  Kate pulled out the ring. The skull part was hollow and hinged. It clipped down over a tiny, hidden container. There were two crumbling white tablets nestled inside. She tipped them out into her hand for a closer look. They could be painkillers. Or they could be something a lot more potent – for use when Pumpkin Head was safely inside some scuzzball club? For dropping in the drink of some poor unsuspecting girl at a bar?

  Kate looked up at Patience, a new fierceness inside her as a desperate plan began to form.

  ‘Who’s there?’ Patience demanded of the door.

  ‘Takapa.’

  The voice was cold and emotionless. It stabbed at Kate’s insides. She concealed the tablets under her thighs, closed up the ring and slipped it on her finger as Patience entered a four-digit code on a keypad. The door opened a fraction. The old woman skittered back in her chair.

  Nothing happened for a moment.

  Then a massive werewolf, lean and sinewy, burst into the room with a terrifying roar.

  The huge white beast went for Kate so quickly she had no time to scream. It reared up over her, glowing eyes narrowed in malice, rancid drool pouring from the massive jaws. She shut her eyes, put her hands up over her face in a futile gesture to keep it away.

  There was a rushing, eerie cracking sound, like ghosts bundling up a pile of dry sticks.

  ‘Boo.’

  At the sound of low giggling, Kate opened her eyes.

  She decided maybe she preferred the ’wolf.

  A naked man stood before her, early fifties maybe, stick-thin and covered in eczema. He looked to be half-starved: his ribs stuck out like blades through flaky skin, his stomach was sunken, his hips protruded like knucklebone handles.

  Kate swiftly looked up at the man’s face. It was deathly pale, his features bunched up together in the middle of his face. His white-blond hair was shaved back to stubble. A silver double helix dangled from the fleshy lobe of his right ear, while his left ear looked to ha
ve been chewed clean off. His skin was pockmarked with the scars of old acne, and his eyes were a watery pink, the colour of raw flesh.

  An albino lupine. Rare. Ugly.

  And from the way Patience was trembling in her chair, very, very dangerous.

  ‘Make you jump, did I?’ said Takapa, smiling childishly. His nasal voice carried a trace of accent. German perhaps. ‘You know, I could’ve gone further in my change. I can push my body all the way to wolf, so not a trace of my man-self remains.’

  ‘It’s got to be an improvement,’ Kate muttered scathingly.

  ‘Show some respect,’ Patience snapped at her. ‘It’s beautiful. And they say he passes on the talent to his chosen disciples,’ she added hopefully.

  Takapa ignored her, focusing fully on Kate. ‘Still. Why bother to impress you when I can simply make you fear?’ He bared his yellow teeth, sharpened to fine points. ‘Welcome, Marcie’s little girl.’

  ‘I’m Katherine Folan,’ Kate said, meeting his gaze. ‘And on the subject of names, you don’t seem much like a papa to me. You don’t seem to take much care of yourself, so how are your deluded “children” supposed to cope?’

  ‘You’ve got spirit,’ said Takapa mildly. ‘I like that.’

  ‘That makes my day,’ Kate muttered. ‘So you’d just love it if I said, “Let me out of here, you freakish son of a bitch”?’

  Takapa giggled again.

  Much to Kate’s relief he scooped up the robe he must’ve discarded just outside the door, and slipped it on. It clung to his anorexic form like wet silk on a scarecrow. ‘Let you out? But you’ve only just arrived. I’m so glad you’ve come to me. You and your little wereling.’

  Kate shifted uneasily in her chair. ‘Tom, you mean? He’s nothing. Just some silverblood Marcie fished out of the river.’

  Takapa walked up to the chair and crouched down in front of her. She squirmed as he leaned in close to her. ‘Good. You’ll soon forget him then.’

  Abruptly he got up, walked over to one of the crates on the nearby rack and prised off the lid. He scooped out a mass of crimson slush ice and pushed it greedily into his mouth like it was Ben & Jerry’s or something. ‘Mmm.’ He shut his eyes and sighed dreamily. ‘Love it when you get a clot.’

  He held some under Kate’s nose. ‘Slush pop? It’s blood, liver and chilli sauce, my own recipe.’

  ‘You sick animal.’ Kate turned away. She saw Patience looking hungrily at the gruesome snack on offer.

  Tapaka threw some at the old woman like a snowball. It hit her on the chest, and he sniggered as she desperately lapped it up from her baggy blouse.

  Kate’s stomach heaved. She closed her eyes. She wanted to hide away inside herself and never come out again. But Takapa grabbed hold of her hair with slushy fingers and yanked her head back. She gasped, and flinched as he leaned in on her, as she smelled his rank breath.

  ‘I’m being kind to you, sweetheart,’ he said. ‘Retribution’s coming for you. You should be grateful that Takapa wants to treat you kindly.’ He relaxed his grip on her hair and ran his fingers through it. ‘But then, I suppose you have brought me a gift, haven’t you? Your reluctant ’wolf friend.’ A dreamy smile fleshed itself out on Takapa’s scarred face. ‘A new wereling prefigures the coming of Wolf Time. He shall devour his dominant humanity, give himself over to the wolf forever. A first sacrifice that will turn all the world over to our kind.’

  Kate glowered up at him. ‘Even assuming your stupid myths were true, Tom isn’t that person.’

  ‘So, you don’t believe the old stories?’ Takapa steepled his fingers, and began to circle her with slow, deliberate steps. ‘Humans just aren’t superstitious any more, have you noticed? Their world is so scientific.’ He laughed. ‘But science works for ’wolves too. We can use their technologies against them.’ He gestured round at the crates and boxes lining his chilled storeroom. ‘A process I’ve already begun.’

  Kate glanced nervously round the walls. The generator hum seemed to grow louder, a dark energy straining to be free. ‘I take it this place is more than just a fridge full of snacks. What’s in these boxes?’

  ‘Experiments … research … our future.’ Takapa tapped the side of his nose. ‘Did you know, they used to tell a man’s future from the entrails of a chicken?’ he said wistfully, as if recalling the good old days. ‘But his own entrails will do – if you study them on a genetic level.’ He giggled, pink eyes shining. ‘Yes, I’m sure we can foretell the future for your brave little wereling.’

  Kate vowed she wouldn’t give this creep the satisfaction of knowing how petrified she felt. ‘You know, science also gave us concealer sticks and coloured contact lenses. If you used those human technologies, you might not look like such a freak.’

  ‘I don’t hide what I am,’ Takapa said simply, and something in his cold tone made her glad he hadn’t risen to her bait. ‘Not like you. She-wolf.’ He sniffed the air in front of her, thoughtfully. ‘No, you’re not quite ripened yet, are you, girl? But soon the ’wolf that paces inside you shall call to be drawn out.’

  Kate cringed as he licked her face.

  Takapa’s cherry eyes were bright and hungry. ‘And I’ll be waiting. With your little wereling out of the picture, your mama will need to find you another mate.’

  ‘No.’ Kate couldn’t keep the quiver from her voice.

  ‘Oh, yes.’ Takapa nodded, then strutted over to the door. ‘Your mother could prove very useful to me. And a blood tie … ’ He chuckled, rubbed his hands. ‘That would assure me of real status. A rightful presence among the Old Name elite.’

  ‘You think my mother would let a nameless freak like you piss in the family gene pool?’ Kate spat at him. ‘And you think I wouldn’t kill myself before I went with some ugly, anorexic white thing like you?’

  Takapa’s gruesome fangs poked through his thin-lipped smile. ‘You’re going to be a beautiful bride.’ He turned to go.

  ‘What would you have me do, Papa?’ Patience grovelled, before he could leave. She made a pathetic figure, blouse stained and wet, hunched up in the chair with all her stitches and bruising.

  ‘I already told you what to do,’ Takapa said quietly, though he kept his eyes on Kate. ‘Watch her. See she behaves. Don’t let her hurt herself before her mother has the chance.’

  ‘That’s soon, right?’ Patience nodded. ‘But what then? I mean, I ain’t got no home I can go to, and … ’ She trailed off as Takapa simply turned and left. The door clicked shut behind him.

  ‘Looks like you don’t figure highly in his plans, Patience.’ Kate tutted. ‘Wonder what’ll happen to you when my mother comes.’

  Patience glared at her and took a swig from the coffee. ‘You’d do better to worry about yourself, Miss.’

  ‘Me?’ Kate gave her a big, wide-eyed and innocent smile, sat on her hands and began quietly grinding the tablets she’d hidden there against the edge of the chair. She felt them crumbling to a lumpy powder.

  Just how paranoid are you, Patience? she wondered, knowing now she had just one chance to get out of here alive.

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  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Tom was woken by the sound of fingers tapping out an erratic rhythm over a keyboard. Rubbing his eyes, he saw Adam Blood dressed in a black silk kimono. He was sitting on a slashed footstool, a laptop perched awkwardly on his knees. A modem lead snaked through the chaos covering the floor to where a phone socket must be hidden.

  ‘Good, you’re awake,’ Blood snapped without looking up.

  ‘Why?’ Tom asked, rubbing his neck, stiff from a night on the unyielding leather couch.

  ‘Because I need coffee. Kitchen. Downstairs. Now.’

  Tom stretched noisily. ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘The note says we can’t find Jicaque.’ Blood looked up, the ghost of a smile playing over his lips. ‘It doesn’t say the same about Kate, does it? And Marcie Folan’s not the only one who can “put out the word”.’

  ‘You’ve go
t your friends on the case!’ Tom grinned.

  ‘Better yet,’ Blood told him, ‘your sob story of last night persuaded me to swallow my pride, find the number in my little black book and contact my late, lamented ex, Lydia.’

  Tom’s face fell. ‘The woman who was turned?’

  Blood nodded. ‘That’s the one.’

  ‘But she’s one of them!’ Tom snapped, appalled. ‘What if she knows Takapa and tells him you’ve been snooping—’

  ‘Hello? Earth calling Tom and telling him to shut the frig up!’ Blood gave him a dark look. ‘I didn’t have to do any snooping, all right? I just called her late last night and made out I was worried the ’wolf rampaging through the Central Business District yesterday was her. That it had made me realise I still cared about her, remembered the good times and blah de blah de blah. You know, women love all that crap.’

  Tom folded his arms. ‘And?’

  ‘And Lydia was knocked out! She’s single, as it happens! Split from the ’wolf boyfriend, ages back!’ He punched the air. ‘I knew it wouldn’t last!’

  Tom stared at Blood in disbelief. ‘Why so happy? You’d actually date someone you knew was lupine?’

  ‘Not necessarily date them. But like I told you, Tom, I’m no hero. I do what’s practical.’ He gestured around his ruined office. ‘And after this little warning, I want a friend in the lupine camp. Someone who can help me out if things get tricky.’ He gestured at the gory message on the wall. ‘If they are watching me and they see me with someone on their side, so much the better.’

  Tom could see how Blood was turning the situation to his advantage. ‘So how does Kate figure in all this?’ he demanded, beginning to lose patience.

  ‘Lydia told me how yesterday’s events had caused a real ruckus in the local lupine community. Apparently, this bloke Takapa is going to address a gathering of ’wolves at noon today, at a conference centre downtown.’

  ‘Why?’ Tom wondered. ‘What for?’

 

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