by Mac Flynn
“Gathering power around himself,” Luke explained to me. “He positions his allies in important positions like a chess match, and when he strikes it may be check-mate for us.”
“Da, we have let him do what he wants. Now we will stop him and I am sure with such friends as we have here we can do that,” Burnbaum encouraged.
Luke’s lips pursed together, but he sat back down. “Perhaps, but we’ll need a miracle to keep alive, much less wrestle control from Lance.”
“I must go to my business. I will meet you later, and enjoy your meal,” Burnbaum insisted.
With that assurance we got comfortable and gobbled down the food. Burnbaum left to attend to his guests, and Luke insisted Alistair join us for the meal. “We don’t have much time until the train,” he pointed out. I rolled my eyes when I recalled how he’d wanted to return to bed with the excuse that we had plenty of time to have more fun.
“Is that the only way to get up to this meeting place?” I asked him. I didn’t want a repeat performance of the 1812 Overture’s cannon part.
“Other than walking, and the hike is quite grueling, even for a werewolf,” he replied. I frowned and toyed with my food. Luke noticed. “Something wrong?” he wondered. My eyes dodged over to Alistair, and Luke took the hint. “Alistair, would you mind getting the car to take us to the station?”
“Not at all, sir,” Alistair answered. He rose and left us alone.
Luke leaned over the table toward where I sat opposite him. “What’s wrong?” he asked me.
I tensed and avoided eye contact by staring at my interesting lap. “After last night I’m-well, I’m a werewolf, aren’t I?”
He nodded. “Yes, with all the benefits and drawbacks.”
“And those are what exactly?”
“An increased sense of smell-”
“So I have a powerful sniffer?”
“Exactly, along with other heightened senses and physical abilities such speed, hearing, and strength.”
“And fur,” I added.
Luke smiled. “Yes, a lot more fur, but you won’t need to shave more often.”
“So can I transform any time I want?” I asked him.
“No. That requires practice and focus, and you need a lot of both,” he commented.
I scowled at him. “I had a lot of focus trying to escape you,” I pointed out.
“And now?” he wondered. I opened my mouth to give him a biting declaration of my intent to repeat the Great Escape, but a thought struck me hard in the head. I had no idea who, or even what, I was any more. A few days ago I’d just been an office girl with a lot of party-going friends. Now I was this werewolf guy’s mate in a world I didn’t understand, but now belonged to. Luke saw the dilemma in my eyes and sighed. “Your eyes show your regrets,” he mused.
I grimaced. “And there’s no way to change back?”
“No way.”
I sighed and slumped in my chair. “Oh goody.”
Luke raised an eyebrow. “It’s not all bad, but if you won’t take my word for it then remember what Abby told you.”
“I don’t think she was forced into this,” I argued.
“No, she was born with the condition, but without lycanthropy her parents would have died in that wreck,” he pointed out.
I glanced up and blinked. “Lycan-what?”
“Lycanthropy. It’s the folk and medical term for being a werewolf,” he explained to me.
“Sounds like a horrible disease.”
“It’s not so bad. Plenty of fur to keep you warm in the winter,” he teased.
I cracked a smile. “The fleas must be murder.”
He winced and scratched his arm. “Sometimes there is that problem, especially if you keep in the wolf form for too long.”
“Like the whole night?”
“Like a few months,” he replied.
My mouth dropped open. “So werewolves can transform anytime they want for however long they want?”
“Precisely, but delve too deep into the Beast and you lose your humanity.”
“The what?”
“The Beast is the wolf instinct inside of us. It lets us transform, and helps us choose a mate.”
My eyes narrowed and I frowned at him. “I don’t like your Beast.”
He laughed. “I thought you’d say something like that.”
I glanced down at myself. “So are these changes supposed to be immediate or is there a waiting period before I can jump into the deep-end of the werewolf pool? Because right now I don’t exactly feel like She-Hulk.”
“Your body’s already accepted the chances, but the abilities don’t immediately manifest themselves.”
“So no instant butt-kicking?”
“No.”
“Damn. That would have come in handy when that guy attacked us.” Luke and I jumped up when there was a knock on our jammed door. He gestured for me to get behind him and his eyes trained on the entrance.
“Who is it?” he called out.
“Burnbaum, your lordship,” came the jolly voice.
Luke relaxed and smiled. “Come in.”
Burnbaum slipped inside, but kept the broken door open. “Alistair asked for car and I delivered. It is large enough for all of us.”
“All of us?” I repeated.
“Aye. I go and cast my vote for leader,” he replied.
“Who are the rumors saying will win?” Luke wondered.
Burnbaum shrugged. “It is hard to say. People are more worried about tensions than voting.”
“They should be worried about both,” Luke commented as he slipped on his coat.
14
Luke helped me on with my coat, and Alistair came to fetch our bags. Our little group of four walked down the halls and outside to a long, black limo. My eyes widened and my mouth split open in a smile when I realized that was our ride. “I could get used to this,” I spoke up.
Burnbaum and Luke chuckled, and we were all stowed in the luxurious leather seats for the short ride to the station. When we reached the platform the area was even more crowded than the day before. People leaned over the edge of the platform and any slight jostling caused a ripple effect through the dense crowd. We waited in the car, but Luke and Burnbaum weren’t idle. They scanned the crowd for danger, and glanced at the tracks in the direction of our destination looking for the train.
Out of boredom I followed suit and noticed a man behind the station. He wore a wide-brimmed hat and dark gloves, and beneath the cuffs I glimpsed a white bandage. I tapped Luke on the shoulder and pointed at the guy. “Isn’t that the same guy we saw yesterday?” I asked him.
Luke looked to where I pointed, and his eyes narrowed. “Yes, it is.”
Burnbaum glanced at the stranger and frowned. “Do not touch him, Luke. That is a counting man for Lance. He came to the inn when Lance come through.”
“Counting man?” I repeated.
“An accountant,” Luke told me. “The Connor clan has a large enterprise, but I’m surprised he’d use his number lackey to give us that unfriendly warning,” he mused.
“They are desperate?” Burnbaum suggested.
“Maybe it’s because nobody would suspect a bean-counter of being an assassin,” I spoke up. The three men glanced at me, and I shrugged. “I wouldn’t.”
“You may have something there, but he’s got a lot of confidence to be out in the streets without protection,” Luke pointed out. His eyes scanned the crowd, and we all noticed the sheriff walk out of the crowd and over to the accountant. “That would answer my question. He has friends in higher places.”
“Da. The sheriff hid his friend and now he protects him to Sanctuary,” Burnbaum guessed.
Luke frowned. “I’ll have to offer them a change of plans.” Before any of us could stop him, he opened the door and stepped out. Alistair, Burnbaum and I followed him and he reached the pair by the station. “Good morning, sheriff,” Luke pleasantly greeted the man.
The sheriff turned and, recognizing L
uke, scowled. “What are you wanting, boy?”
“Won’t you introduce me to your friend here? He looks familiar, but I don’t believe we’ve been formally introduced,” Luke requested.
The stranger smirked and bowed his head. “A pleasure to be formally acquainted with you, Lord Laughton. My name is Brad Alston, lead assistant to Lord Connor.” He held out his hand, but Luke crossed his arms across his chest.
“The pleasure is all yours,” Luke replied. “But I think we have some unfinished business between us.”
Alston raised an eyebrow. “I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about, my lord.”
Luke grabbed Alston’s arm and tore down the sleeve to reveal the bandages. Alston tried to tear his arm away, but Luke’s grip was so tight that the I swore I heard the man’s bones groan beneath the pressure. “This is what I’m talking about.”
Sheriff Brier pulled his gun and pressed the barrel against Luke’s temple. “You just let go of him right now, boy,” Sheriff Brier growled. Luke coolly released Alston and the man cradled his arm.
“Remember that pain,” Luke warned him. “The next time I promise I won’t return your arm.”
The sheriff narrowed his eyes and kept the gun against Luke’s head. “Are you threatening my friend here?”
Luke smiled and brushed away the barrel as though it was a toy. “Not at all, sheriff. I was just giving a friendly warning.” I got a chill from it.
“One more time and I’ll have a bullet with yer name on it,” the sheriff threatened.
The tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a knife, and me without the utensil. We were saved from a worse situation by the sound of a whistle in the distance. Everyone glanced up the tracks and saw the train head toward the station. Alston stretched out his arm and smirked at us. “I believe that’s my train,” he spoke up. He turned to the sheriff. “If you would escort me to the train.”
“My pleasure,” Sheriff Brier agreed. He sneered at us, and the pair of them walked over to the platform. The train stopped at the station and the crowd herded themselves into the cars.
Luke scowled at their retreating back and he looked to want to follow them, but Burnbaum set his hand on Luke’s shoulder. “Do not look for trouble,” he advised Luke.
“Mr. Burnbaum is correct, sir,” Alistair chimed in. “If you create a scene you will be inviting the sheriff to attack us.”
Luke sighed and nodded. “Unfortunately, you’re both right. That show with Alston out in the open might have been a trap to invite just that trouble.” The train whistle blew and by then the platform was nearly empty.
“Let us go to my car. It is at the head,” Burnbaum invited us.
I glanced over to the train and watched our target climbed aboard a private car and the curtains were drawn. “Isn’t there something we can do?” I insisted.
“Not while the sheriff vouches for his integrity,” Luke explained to me. He hustled me to a car toward the lead engine and we all climbed aboard one of the front cars. This, too, was a private suite, at least judging by Burnbaum’s name embossed on the pillows and he referring to it as his own.
“So he’s just going to get away?” I persisted.
“For now, but he won’t have much chance at attacking us at Sanctuary. The Protectors are a more reliable bunch than the sheriff here,” Luke replied.
“What’s this Sanctuary place about, anyway?” I asked them.
Luke turned to Alistair. “You’re more familiar with the history than I am. You want to tell her it?” he offered.
Alistair bowed his head and cleared his throat. “The founding of Sanctuary occurred about three centuries before as a place for werewolves to keep their existence a secret, and to keep safe from the human persecution that came with exposure. It was chosen specifically for its inaccessibility and the bounty of its natural resources which provided the werewolves with all the necessities they needed to survive. Eventually they risked exposure and allowed a train rail to be built so they could export those abundant resources. The town of Wolverton, from which we are about to depart, sprang up along the last bit of hospitable track and filled with werewolves and those humans who were vetted for tolerance. Sanctuary, as the oldest structure built by werewolves, has held the seat of government during its entire existence, though there have been recent calls to move it for greater convenience. The main disagreement is in which region to move the seat, as all have vied for approval.”
“So who’s region is this in?” I wondered.
“It’s its own territory to keep the seat of government in a politically and culturally neutral position,” Alistair replied. “A lord is jointly elected by the people in Sanctuary and Wolverton to represent them in government affairs. The current lord’s name is John Farber.”
My head spun with all these names, positions and places. “How many lords are there?”
“Seven in all, counting the one here, and from one of them is elected a High Lord who officiates over governmental affairs and manages the bureaucracy,” Luke explained to me.
“Too much of that now, this bureaucracy. Bad for business,” Burnbaum quipped.
Luke smiled. “There’s a lot of it, but I don’t know about too much.”
“Much more,” our former host insisted. “I pay taxes to feed their mouths and they do nothing.”
Luke leaned in toward me and lowered his voice to a whisper. “Burnbaum is very vocal about his political leanings.”
“I hear you and still stand by what I say,” Burnbaum insisted.
“So is this Sanctuary place very pretty?” I asked them to change the subject. If anything, I was tired of this Political Science lesson and was afraid there’d be a test at the end.
Luke wrapped an arm around me and grinned. “I don’t think you’ll regret coming here,” he assured me. I had my doubts.
15
Within a few minutes the final whistle of the train blew and it chugged down the tracks. Resigning myself to an existence as a werewolf, I let myself enjoy the view more than the other times I’d been in a train car. We slipped past the town and entered a thick forest of trees with massive trunks that were as wide as my arms if I stretched them out on either side of me. There were no roads, but I did notice a lot of footpaths that crossed the tracks. They looked like animal trails, but knowing Wolverton and Sanctuary were full of werewolves saying they were animal was not quite accurate.
“How far is Sanctuary?” I asked Luke.
“Twenty miles up a steep incline and set on a mountain outcropping,” he replied.
“Sounds friendly.”
“It’s very good at keeping out unfriendly and unwanted visitors.”
“This train’s already carrying a few,” I pointed out.
“For us, but I don’t doubt Lance is eagerly awaiting Alston,” he countered.
I returned my gaze to the window and watched the view slip by. The degree of angle of the tracks gradually increased until I sat flat against the back of the cushioned seat. To say I was worried would be an understatement. One stick of butter on the track and we would be doomed. “Is it always like this?” I wondered.
“Unfortunately, yes. There’s been plans to increase the slope to make this part of the trek less gravity-defying, but it’s stuck in committee,” Luke told me.
“I guess the committee doesn’t have to ride this train, otherwise it’d pass unanimously,” I quipped.
“We’ll plateau soon and then you’ll get your first view of the station and Sanctuary,” he assured me. His prediction came true, and a few minutes later gravity pulled my feet down instead of my chest.
I spotted something ahead and leaned my face against the window for my first glimpse of the Sanctuary station. It was a small wooden platform hewn from the local trees and stretched to a length of fifty yards to accommodate the long train. There was a wide roof with wooden shingles that covered the platform from tip to rear.
I glanced up from the small station, and my eyes traveled
along a stone path with thick wood railings on either side and wildflowers beyond those. The seat of government stood at the top and was a large villa hewn from the stone and trees that surrounded it. The building stretched for a mile along the mountainside with a depth of forty yards, and was five stories tall. Such a massive building created a small colony unto itself with two wings on either side of the large entrance doors. A large deck on the ground floor jutted out into the air and gave magnificent views of the valley below, and large windows were placed everywhere along the front to take in the scenery. There were also balconies outside the rooms that faced the declining side of the mountain. The roof was slanted down at the same level as the mountain, and the back of the roof matched perfectly with the level of the dirt and rocks so snow would cleanly slip off the ground and onto the roof. There were dozens of sturdy skylights to allow light into the halls that didn’t have exterior-facing walls.
Around the building were many forest trails both planned and random, and they led into the woods for miles and miles. Some connected to the tracks lower down and others disappeared up the slope to the very peaks of the wild and rugged mountains. I hoped I wouldn’t need a map to find my room.
We pulled into the station and disembarked. The station was a madhouse as people, or should I say werewolves in human clothing, walked down the path to greet old friends and family. Through all the chaos I noticed a strange man in a bright red silk robe with wolf imprints all over the cloth. I tapped Luke on the shoulder and pointed at the strange guy. “Who’s that?” I asked him.
“That’s John Farber, the lord of Sanctuary,” he explained to me.
“Why’s he dressed in a moo moo?” I wondered.
Luke snorted but quickly put back on his stoic expression. “That’s the traditional robe of the lord of Sanctuary. As the current lord he’s the only one with the right to wear it.”
“And the responsibility not to,” I quipped.
Farber worked through the first throngs of newcomers and spotted us. He hurried over and grasped Luke’s hand in a warm, wild handshake. “I’m glad you could make it, Luke! I heard about the troubles on the western train, and was horrified when I learned you were aboard.”
