Hair of the Wolf

by Peter J. Wacks

  “Tabitha.”

  She glanced back over her shoulder. “Mm hm?”

  “What I’m going to say, you can’t ask for more. Okay?”

  She arched an eyebrow.

  Robert laid a hand on her shoulder, she reflexively reached up and put her hand over his. “I know about the second child. I know about Andrew’s brother.”

  Confusion crossed her features. “How long have you known about m … the baby?”

  He hung his head. “Since just before we met. The man on the train with you back in nineteen seventy-seven is a relative of mine. When we met the following year, I knew who you were. And who the kids were.”

  “Then you know they are actually mine?”

  “Yes. I also know that if the Vampire had thought you had children, she would have killed you. I understand why you had to live the life you did.”

  Her face grew cold, distant. She pushed his hand off her shoulder. “Thirty years and …” She stumbled over her own words, too frustrated. “No. Just …” She stood up and walked away from him, stopping once she had put a solid distance between them.

  Robert watched her. He thought about the talisman, what it had shown him. “What tangled webs we weave, when first we practice to deceive,” he quoted to himself.

  She was, to him, beautiful. Strong and proud, she was one of the fiercest people he had ever met, despite the quiet and contemplative veneer she wore. But it was too late now. He was in his sixties, too old to do anything about it. Especially now that he had revealed that he had been hiding so much from her.

  Making her understand that the lie had been out of necessity might be beyond the scope of his capabilities now. He scratched at his forearm, waiting. Suddenly, acutely, he was aware of the aches and pains of his aging body. They added up over the years. He missed his body at age forty. Even in his late forties he had been in terrific shape. But now his body reflected his spirit. Tarnished from doing things he really shouldn’t have, from a lifetime of chasing evil and eating peyote.

  Tabitha’s shoulders straightened and she turned around, walking back to Robert. The slap was loud, and though her jaw was clenched in anger, she allowed him a moment to compose himself.

  Robert rubbed his cheek. It stung. Werewolves slapped a lot harder than the average person. “I deserved that, and more.”

  “Yes.”

  “But you understand that I couldn’t say anything?” He looked pleadingly at her, hoping for understanding.

  “You are a jackass Robert.” She shook her head. “You didn’t have to tell me that. But you didn’t tell me that you knew anything about me when we met. If you had bothered to talk with me about the fact that you knew things, you could have shared, I wouldn’t have pushed for more. I spent a lifetime wishing and praying for someone I could talk to. And the whole time you were so wrapped up in a lie …”

  “I,” he struggled for the right words, “couldn’t. I was trying to protect you. I couldn’t just tell you things without it bringing a lot of attention to you.”

  “That wasn’t your decision to make, Robert.” He noticed that her hands were curled into fists. “Whatever your reasons, you lied to me. For thirty years. That’s messed up. How can I trust anything you say?”

  “Well. Think about what I just told you. I was trying to protect you. I think you can trust that.”

  Exasperated, she crossed her arms. “Robert. Set aside the hurt and betrayal I am feeling right now. If you found the information, someone else could have, too. For thirty years the secret I thought buried was out there. Other people might know. I could have been working to protect the second child. Hiding him further. And you took that from me. Just how the hell is that protecting me? How is that helpful?”

  “The way I came across the information. Please understand, no one else could have. It was unique to me. When we met, I didn’t know who you were. I wasn’t close to you. I had information that could change the world if it was discovered. Part of that was that I needed to protect you and your pack.”

  She stood silently, watching him.

  “I couldn’t tell you.” He looked down to the ground.

  “And at what point, Robert, did you decide that instead of saying, ‘Hey, now that I’ve gotten to know you better I want to share this with you to be honest’ and instead decide to say ‘I’m going to hide this from you, despite knowing you now.’ When, Robert? And since you are finally being honest with me, what else are you hiding?! Any other little gems?”

  Flinching a little at the vitriol in her voice, Robert framed his reply carefully. “I’ve never hidden anything from you except for information I’m not supposed to share. There was no point in time when I made a decision to not tell you things I could have. Even now I’m not supposed to let you know that, but I can’t see another way to get what I need.”

  “So I’m just about what you need?” She spat the words out. “And who the hell are the they that you report to. Who is giving you this information?”

  He rolled his eyes, exasperated. “You know I can’t tell you that. Look, Tabby, everything I do is done so that my grandson and your pack will survive the coming storm. I’m enigmatic by necessity, not by choice.”

  Her eyes narrowed at the words. “I’m too pissed. Give me a minute.” The two stood in silence for a few moments, struggling with their own thoughts and emotions.

  Tabitha broke the silence. “I think I know you well enough to know that you really do have our best interest at heart. My problem is that you think lying to me serves my best interest. That’s a damn fool thing to do.” She sighed and rubbed her temple, silent for a moment while a jogger passed on the trail. “So you know that the second child exists. Does that mean you know who the first one is?”

  He nodded. “Andrew.”

  She frowned. “And what he is?”

  He nodded again. “A vessel. Though not a pure one, like the younger child.”

  Taking a deep breath, she asked the million dollar question. “And do you know who and where the second child is?”

  He tensed. “I do.”

  “What is your game in all this? Besides making sure we all survive, what’s your angle?”

  He frowned. “I will not endanger the child, nor make him visible to those that wish to use the power of the vessel. What I am trying to do is engineer the circumstances that will bring about the fall of Bathory.”

  She took a step forward. “You’ll let me dig my claws into that bitch?”

  “I will.”

  “We’re not done, Robert. Not by a longshot. It’s going to take you a long time to fix this with me. But for this I am in. We will talk about it more later, once I figure out the first of the many things you are going to do to make this up to me.”

  “Thank you, Tabby.” He sighed in relief. “The detective’s name is Ian Stone. I have his address in the car.”

  The two headed out of the park.

  ***

  Robert Crowley Sr.

  “The lost child is grown, and is about to be dragged into this.” Robert moved his bishop.

  Loki picked up the eight-sided die and rolled. It came up with a one. Robert shook his head. Grandfather Coyote always turned games of strategy into ones of chance. It was just his way.

  Toying with his pawn Loki studied the board. “I suspected as much. He shouldn’t be involved in this till much later.”

  “I know. Believe me I know. But is the wolves are about to drag him in.”

  Loki grinned and shifted a pawn forward. “We are the embodiment of chaos, my old friend. Don’t be deceived by the linear progression of events. Things never being what they seem is the one thing you can count on to be exactly as it seems to be. Even if you seem to be tied into something I don’t know about, that will remain a constant.”

  Robert nodded and spent a few moments quietly studying the board. “If my grandson is to grow into the power of the family, then we must change the shape of things as they are.”

  Loki laughed. “Don�
�t forget, Robert, I am your guide, you my Scion. As much as you have a game to play, you are being played. It is the nature of what and who we are.”

  Robert, counted as wise amongst his friends, shrugged. “I don’t understand.”

  The god watched the board. “Let me make this simpler on you. You were put under a burden of secrecy back in the seventies. You were granted power from structure, from Fate. Ah, ah!” He held up a finger. “We are of chaos. I could smell the stink of Fate on you. By watching how chaos shifted around you, I could extrapolate the patterns of Fate. I just couldn’t act on them, otherwise others would be able to read the pattern off me. So I had to trust you to act in the way I would have.”

  He grinned and met Robert’s eye. “Which you have. I know you were the one who counseled the wolves to bring in the mortal before his time. It is on your word that they are about to do so. It seems such a waste, after Tabitha went to so much trouble to hide him. But it isn’t. You have done what I would have.”

  Gritting his teeth together in frustration, Robert clenched his fist. “Grandfather Coyote. Please. You told me the deal was that we guide the wolves, and Wells guides the Angel. Do you no longer trust me that you have to spy on me? It seems like you are controlling everything, on both sides.”

  Loki held up his hands to placate Robert. “Allow me to explain. What you have said is true. I do not accuse you of lying to me. You never said that you didn’t give that advice. You only made me aware that a move was being made. But make no mistake. I am trying to survive, and I am trying to destroy those who would destroy us. I may seem to be a harmless and friendly person, but I am the embodiment of trickiness. I must play my games, by my nature, and so must you, because you are of my bloodline. I understand this. We move to thwart the vampires, and their allies … all those unbound by Fate who seek to steal our power for themselves.”

  The two stared at each other. Communication was always tricky between them, saying a thousand things that couldn’t be spoken with words. The game continued.

  Loki finally broke the silence. “I have only hinted at what is going on. Much you have learned yourself. Elizabeth Bathory and Vladimyr Tepes are trying to destroy us all. The gods, the werewolves, you and our family line, the Archangel. But that is only the tip of the iceberg. I know that Kaine, the first murderer, the first vampire, is behind them. What I don’t know, is who is behind him. He is not the penultimate power. If I can draw that power out, expose it, I will have won. That is the end to which I fight.”

  Robert seemed to regain his composure. “That is … that’s … asinine.”

  Loki looked at his great-great-great-grandson and sighed, allowing a moment of seriousness. “Robert. You are my Kin. I’m not like the other gods, I care about my family. But look. Things are about to change in a way you cannot see coming. Tell the others you talk to I said that. Gain what weapons you can. There will be a time I can no longer help you, or you me. It may seem asinine to you, but it doesn’t have to make sense.”

  “But, as yo—”

  Loki held up a hand, cutting him off. “I can’t say more. Oh, and checkmate.” He slid a piece forward; the last move of the game. “You’ll understand soon enough.”

  ***

  Ian Stone

  Ian wiped at the ice-cold water pouring down his face. He shook his head then tossed the towel aside.

  “Time to work.” He mumbled.

  Shuffling through the desk drawers, he pulled out a digital recorder and began speaking into it. “New case file. The case of the manipulative woman who walked into my office …”

  ***

  My name is Ian Stone. I am a Private Detective—a P.I. I work hard to cultivate a certain film noir image of the hard-boiled, tough-guy gumshoe, with my black fedora, Burberry trench coat, and rugged good looks. I also wear matching emerald green Converse plus an emerald silk tie.

  It was a gorgeous morning, which just goes to show you that you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, or a day by its weather. Normally, I’d do putzing around stuff. I’m a slow starter when I have the luxury to be, the kind of guy that slowly works through some coffee while making sure all my business for the day is set up, you know? But today, something was under my skin, and I wanted to get out and about to take advantage of the day. So I decided to go ahead and start off with a work errand.

  I had gotten hired a few days ago by a Stepford wife who was afraid she had a cheating husband. I grabbed the stack of photos from their resting spot on my desk. Sadly for her, she was right, and he had been unfaithful. Normally, I’d just pop these bad boy shots in the mail and be done, but since I was feeling good that day, I decided to hand deliver the photos.

  I swept up my trench coat and threw it over my shoulders. I know, nice day, why the coat right? It’s an image thing, so stop hassling me. Where was I? Oh, yeah. So the moment I’m ready to head out, right as I’m reaching towards the door of my office, the handle turns and my door swings open.

  In walked the most gorgeous bombshell I’ve ever seen. She was in her mid-twenties with silky long black hair, the type of sensual curves that a 1950s model could only dream of, and deep brown eyes that a man could lose himself in for a lifetime. Her lips slowly and sensually curved up into a smile as she saw me standing in front of her, and that smile … just wow. Girls this classy never walk into your life without bringing a world of trouble with them, though. And even if it is a bit cliché, I swear I could smell the trouble on her.

  She flashed that smile again, reminding me of nothing so much as a mix of Marilyn Monroe and some woodland predator that knew it had just caught you alone. Being the manly man that I am, I managed to find control of my legs and back up, allowing her the space to walk into my office.

  “Mr. Stone, I presume?” Her voice was rich and heady, and, man, did it make me want to hear it more.

  She hip-swayed into the office, and brother, that sway would have foundered the Titanic! It was just too much. Did this woman never stop? Was there anything about that wasn’t going to scream ‘come hither’ at me?

  Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a post-pubescent sex-crazed kid or anything. My lifestyle just doesn’t allow me to maintain relationships all that well … it had been a couple of years since there had been a woman in my life. So imagine a starving man stumbling into a five-star restaurant. It’s kind of like that when I find a masterpiece of a woman who so obviously knows what she is, and uses it to her advantage, staring me down.

  “Yes?” I know, so pithy. Master of eloquence, that’s me. At least I managed to back up another couple of steps and slide out the client chair on the business end of my desk.

  She smiled and stepped towards the chair, flicking that silky black hair over her shoulder with an absentminded gesture as she took the seat. The act of sitting down accentuated her LBD (little black dress for those of you that are less familiar with the deadly array of fashion weaponry that some women choose to wield). It slid up her thigh as she sat, exposing the perfect amount of leg.

  I think that was what broke me out of the glamour she was casting over me. It was just way too calculated of a gesture. See, a woman hits you with a full dose of come hither, and she wants something—which was a safe bet as she had come to my office.

  But the show I was getting wasn’t standard for someone who just wanted to hire me. And since this gal didn’t know me other than as a name listed under Private Detectives in the phone book, it had to mean that whatever she wanted wasn’t good for me.

  So, I managed to get over my raging hormones. In their place I found myself more than a little suspicious of her. But a case was a case, and even though I had just wrapped one up, P.I.’s are always short on cash, so what could it hurt to hear her out, right?

  Ha. I should have known better.

  Get your head in the game, Stone. “How can I help you, Ms. …?” I left a bit of a questioning tone in my voice, prompting her to give me her name and start her story.

  She drew a deep breath and glanced dow
n, smoothing out her dress. “Amber, Mr. Stone. You can just call me Amber. I am here because two weeks ago my cousin Travis Blake was out partying and he vanished. I would like you to find him.”

  I blinked. I took a deep breath. Missing persons cases were rare as all get out, at least the usual types were. Most ‘missing’ people I had gotten as cases were just skip traces—meaning that a bail bondsman or credit company was looking for someone who didn’t want to be found. Most skip tracing is done on the computer, just sifting through data and refining it until you have a good idea where the person is.

  I stared across my desk for a moment, thinking about how I wanted to handle this. First things first. “Well, Amber, it’s very unusual for me to be handling a missing persons case. Normally that is something the police would deal with. You are well past the forty-eight hour rule. Has your family filed a missing persons report?”

  “Yes, we have. I’m well aware that this should be a police matter, Mr. Stone. We filed the report two weeks ago when he went missing. His truck was found three days later on Thirteenth and Logan. We had to tow it back to his mother’s house in Aurora. My family believes that he was abducted from a dance club.”

  Something about this didn’t feel right to me. “Okay, Amber. And you don’t feel the police are doing a good job of trying to track him down and find him for you?” This is a trick question, by the way. I was probing for information I normally wouldn’t ask for unless I had already agreed to take the case.

  She sighed, flicking a stray lock of her hair back over her shoulder in that same unconscious gesture I had noticed a moment ago. “No, frankly we don’t. It’s been two weeks and no one knows where he is.”

  “They haven’t made any progress?” Of course, I knew the answer to that.

  Thirteenth and Logan was in District 6 of the Denver Police Department. District 6 is known as being a living Hell on Earth. See, its right on the junction between the capitol building and lower downtown. Probably the heaviest trafficked pedestrian area in all of Denver, with plenty of cars, too.