Wolves, Witches and Bears...Oh My!

by Nicky Charles

  He picked up the file and made his way down the hall, nodding at those he passed. Lycan Link headquarters was much like any large corporation. Beige walls, fluorescent lighting. Cubicles, computers and printers. Boringly normal unless you realized all the employees were shifters.

  After a perfunctory knock on the open door, he entered Fielding’s office. The room hadn’t changed much over the years, nor had the man sitting across the desk. Stern-faced, grizzled hair, tough as the proverbial nail; the man had more integrity than almost anyone Reno had met. He was also unfailingly loyal to Lycan Link and knew every rule and regulation that had ever been written.

  “I’d say ‘come in’ but you’re already here.” Fielding leaned back in his chair, a dour expression on his face.

  “Just thought I’d save you the effort.” Reno took a seat and plopped the file folder on the desk. “That’s what I’ve dug up on Dante so far.”

  The captain made no effort to pick it up so Reno began to relate the contents.

  “Dante went to the Academy on a scholarship. He was younger than most but his entrance scores were good. His mother died in childbirth. His father eventually drank himself to death. They’d been Omegas of the pack but Dante showed potential so he was given a chance at the Academy. He did well during his first year. His professors claimed he was highly intelligent but quiet and a loner. A few expressed doubts; he was too young and being the son of an Omega they didn’t feel he could withstand the gruelling pace.”

  “Omegas rarely have pups that rise in the pack ranks, but it isn’t unheard of.”

  Reno nodded. “True. Anyway, he proved the doubters wrong by acing his exams and ending up at top of his class. During his second year, things began to change. He seemed distracted. Rumours at the time said he’d become involved with a girl while down south during the mid-year break. Whatever the case, he stuck it out for a third year and eventually graduated. Despite being offered a coveted internship in the Intelligence Division at Lycan Link, he left and struck out on his own.”

  “Anything else?”

  “After that, things become murky. Dante pretty much dropped out of sight, not returning to his home pack nor registering with another. When he resurfaced, it was in association with fringe groups, petty crimes. Over time, he’s risen in the criminal ranks.” He paused then dropped the last bit of information. “Rumours say he’s worked for Lycan Link on more than one occasion beyond that instance last year; black ops, double agent type stuff.”

  Fielding’s grunt was the only reaction the last statement got. Instead, he leaned forward, flipped open the file, scanned the contents and then pushed it away. “Congratulations, you pass Investigation 101.”

  “I’m not here to play games, Captain. If I’m going to babysit Dante, I need to know what he’s working on.”

  “No, you don’t. You keep tabs on him and report to me. No snooping. No interference.”

  “That’s not how I operate.”

  “Too bad. I have my orders and I’m passing them on to you.”

  “Captain…”

  “Reno, I’m sorry. I wasn’t told anything. And even if I was, it would be classified information. I’m only a few years from my pension and I’m keeping my nose clean until then.”

  Reno let out a low growl and the Captain replied in kind.

  “My hands are tied, Smith. And keep your wolf in line unless you want a referral to a Lycan Link counsellor. Rogue Rehab, perhaps? I’m sure Rafe McRae could find an opening in his schedule.” The captain picked up a pen and made a show of beginning to sign papers.

  Reno knew better than to push further. The Captain didn’t make false threats and he’d be damned if he wanted to waste his time watching Rafe smirk at him for getting into trouble. Clamping his lips shut, he rose to his feet. As he reached for the door handle, Fielding cleared his throat.

  Without looking up from the forms he was supposedly signing, he spoke. “The computer security system hasn’t been tested recently. You might want to get Brad Owen to attempt hacking some of the classified files. See how far he can get before he trips an alarm.”

  Reno frowned and then slowly grinned as understanding dawned. “Of course, I’ll get him started on that right away.”

  “And, Reno?”

  “Yes?”

  “I’ll want a report outlining the systems strengths and weaknesses on my desk when the test is finished. Can’t have people hacking the system for the fun of it.”

  “You’ll have it, sir.”

  As Reno made his way to Brad’s office, he chuckled to himself. Just when the Captain seemed to have too much starch in his shorts, he showed he hadn’t completely knuckled under.

  Chapter 11

  Dante paced his room, wondering what his next move should be. Gwyneth wasn’t an easy case. She’d been suspicious of him from the very beginning and now, just when he thought he might be winning her over, she’d turned the tables on him. She’d grilled him and he’d admitted some of what he was, but was it enough to keep her intrigued? Was a bit of honesty the path to gaining her trust?

  He’d sensed some reaction in her to his touch, could scent the beginnings of desire. Hell, he’d sensed the same thing in himself as well and it wasn’t a good thing. He had no idea if she could be trusted or not. A cool head was needed, not the over-excited one in his pants.

  Somehow, he had to get Gwyneth to lead him to the Coven whether willingly or because he’d tracked her movements. According to the information Higgins had provided, the Coven’s quarterly meeting was fast approaching; all the members would be there and it was one of those members who was responsible for the mounting number of deaths.

  Finding the Coven had been his goal for the past few years. Witches weren’t open to divulging their inner workings. It was only because Lycan Link was trying to forge a unified league that the information had been shared and he now knew where to begin looking.

  The Coven was a group of thirteen witches lead by the Magissa, the most powerful and learned member. They met four times a year during equinoxes and solstices, the location changing each time. Once the meeting was over, the host city would continue to house the Magissa and her headquarters until the next quarterly meeting required everything to be relocated.

  It was fortuitous that Gwyneth had a seat on the council. She resided in an area he knew well and Club Mystique gave him an easy way to meet her. Plus, there were rumours of her temper. It was a chink in her armour. A passionate person was more likely to make a mistake, to reveal something useful in the heat of the moment.

  “The question is how to stir her passions enough that she drops her guard but doesn’t hex us. We can’t afford to be saddled with another curse, can we?”

  His wolf made a non-committal sound. Curses were too nebulous for it to waste its time on.

  “If she turns us into a toad, then you’ll be worried.” He teased the animal good-naturedly before continuing to consider his next step.

  Witches and their magic. It was damned complicated. There were types and levels of ability, categories of spells from the mundane to the dark. It was the latter he was interested in. At least one individual in the Universal Coven was using it and leaving a trail of dead bodies in their wake. After years of chasing leads, he was finally nearing the end of his quest.

  It had taken a toll on him. Perhaps not so much in his appearance—a few lines around his eyes were to be expected—but inside… He shook his head. Who was he when he wasn’t playing a role? Damned if he knew. Had he become the bastard he pretended to be? Could he ever live a normal life? What would it be like not to be surrounded by the scum of the earth? To not premeditate every relationship with the goal of using the person? To actually form friendships?

  “If we live through this, what will we do with ourselves when it’s all over, buddy?”

  His wolf rubbed against him. We’ll have each other.

  “Right.” He sat on the end of the bed, elbows on his knees, hands clasped. “You and me against t
he world. Remember how we used to dream about the day we’d finally be free?”

  No longer the Omegas but rather the Alphas we knew we were. His wolf nodded. We were going to strike out on our own.

  “The curse wasn’t going to hold us back.” A hint of a smile curled his lips. “Before he died, I remember my father speaking of how our lineage had ‘fallen from grace’. As a pup, I used to daydream about restoring the family name.”

  We’d planned on working for Intelligence at Lycan Link. Starting a family. Finding a new pack or making our own.

  He sighed. “I thought we had it all within our grasp with Carlotta.”

  The animal nodded. We should have left the Academy sooner.

  “I know. It was pride that kept me there. I wanted to show I could handle it despite what they said. Get the highest grades, fast track through the courses.”

  The others mocked us. Said we didn’t belong.

  “We proved them wrong.”

  But at a cost… The wolf shook its head.

  “Yeah.” A wave of sadness washed over him as he remembered the girl he’d once loved.

  The animal, always in tune with his mood, attempted to cheer him. Even if we’d been there it might not have been enough. Black magic is beyond the experience of most.

  “Maybe. But I’ve always felt I failed her.”

  At least we saved the pup. He’s done well.

  “The curse has touched him though. Will continue to plague his life just as it has ours.”

  We can warn him. It might be enough.

  “Perhaps. Or maybe it will destroy him, as it has everyone else in the lineage.”

  We’ve survived this long, the wolf pointed out.

  “True. But we’re luckier than most.”

  Or more skilled. The beast raised its chin. We’ve worked hard, meeting each challenge, constantly improving.

  “There’s that.” He chuckled softly at the pride in the animal’s voice.

  He stood and wandered to the window, staring at the street below. The cars looked like toys, the people appearing as mere ants bustling about on the sidewalks. So busy with their lives, unaware of the danger swirling about them. He’d been like them once. Thinking he controlled his life, planning his future, caught up in the mundane. That had ended with Carlotta’s disappearance and subsequent murder. He constantly relived the days surrounding her death. The frantic search for her, the shock of learning he had become a father, the dark danger he’d sensed swelling around him. He’d done the best he could at the time, but looking back, his efforts had been pathetic. Not any more though.

  Now his name was spoken in hushed tones, the stories of his deeds having taken on a life of their own. The myth of Dante preceded him, fear and awe giving him access to people and places others could never even hope to see. Anything, that is, except the one thing he wanted most.

  Soon though. Soon he’d find the malefic witch and once he did, he’d finally avenge Carlotta’s death.

  Abandoning the view, he sat down and flicked on the TV to distract himself. The local news was on and he watched with mild interest. A report on a new medical discovery, political posturing over raising taxes, a murder with possible cult connections…

  He frowned and grabbed the remote control to increase the volume then leaned closer to the screen. A chill washed over him as he took in the details.

  “Jessica Strandt here, reporting for Live Action News. Today would appear to be a beautiful day for a stroll but that wasn’t the case for a man out walking his dog. The two strayed from their usual path and came upon the gruesome sight of a partially decomposed body. The man immediately called 911 and, as you can see behind me, a police unit was dispatched to the scene.”

  The reporter glanced down at her notes before continuing. “The coroner has confirmed that the body has likely been here for over a month.”

  Over a month? Dante frowned. If it was six weeks, that probably put the death back to the night of a full moon. Two weeks ago the malefic witch had struck down south, then the month previous here in Chicago… He clenched his jaw and fixed his focus on the news report again.

  “I’ve spoken to some of those gathered and one individual, who wishes to remain anonymous, said he overheard police speculating there were possible cult connections. Unconfirmed rumours state that the victim’s heart has been removed. As well, there are signs of scorch marks in the shape of a circle around the corpse at some point.” She paused and the camera zoomed in to show the scorched ground, then flipped back to the reporter.

  He ignored the woman in the foreground and concentrated on what was going on behind her. Yellow tape cordoned off the area and he could see the investigation team in the background wearing the typical disposable coveralls to avoid contaminating the scene. The victim, encased in a body bag, was already on a stretcher being wheeled towards a waiting van. His hand slowly clenched into a fist, cracking the case of the remote he held.

  He turned off the TV and grabbed his coat. He’d check out the murder site. The scent of evil would be gone but there might be something to be learned there. Maybe he’d even make a stop by the morgue. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d broken into one of those places. Great place to spend the evening.

  Yeah, right.

  “I’m displeased.” The autocratic tones of Camille, Magissa of the Universal Coven, jolted Gwyn from her rest.

  She scowled and sat up, pushing her hair from her face. “What the bloody hell are you doing here, Camille?”

  “More to the point, what are you doing here?” The woman smirked and gestured with her hands to encompass the space around her.

  Gwyn looked around and began to curse. White walls and marble pillars, seats forming two semi-circles, a raised dais holding a throne-like chair. The other witch had spirited her bed out of the apartment and plunked it down in the middle of the room that was being prepared for the Universal Coven’s court. At least none of the other Coven members were present, though it wouldn’t have surprised her if they had been. Camille liked nothing better than putting on a display of her abilities, especially if it could make Gwyneth look bad.

  Knowing her temper was about to boil over, Gwyn channelled it into movement, swinging her legs out of bed and donning the dressing gown that was conveniently lying at the foot of the mattress. It would delight Camille no end to see her ranting, so Gwyn pasted a smile on her face instead of the scowl that wanted out.

  The other woman was lounging in the governing chair wearing the ceremonial clothing she favoured; a long grey silk gown with a jewelled empire waistband and flowing sleeves. Her makeup was flawless, her black and silver streaked hair styled into short spikes.

  Knowing she, herself, wasn’t looking her best and the other woman was thoroughly enjoying it, Gwyn couldn’t resist taking a verbal jab. “You look divine as always, Camille. What is that new hairstyle called? Mad hedgehog, perhaps?”

  Camille’s smirk fell from her face before she managed to school her features again. “You’re so droll, Gwyneth. Of course, that red hair of yours does lend itself to you playing the role of a clown.”

  Resisting the urge to finger-comb her bed-head hair, Gwyn nodded graciously. “Well, you set such a good example for the rest of us. All your silly tricks like transporting my bed here. But, oh dear!” She made a tutting sound. “Didn’t you accidentally break the laws of conservation of magical energy we set last quarter? Wasn’t there a clause about reckless or unnecessary conjuring?”

  The grin slipped from Camille’s face once again. “You know that law applies to ordinary witches only. I’m the Magissa and am allowed to summon anyone I want.”

  “Really? I don’t recall reading that you were absolved from following the rules. Perhaps I’ll suggest everyone on council revisit the issue so we can agree on the interpretation.”

  Camille studied her, fingers tapping on the arm of the chair. Eventually she stood and descended the steps from the dais. “Enough with the pleasantries. I summoned you for a r
eason. You’ve ignored all my attempts to communicate with you.”

  “I’ve no time for parading around at your incessant parties.”

  “You’d have time if you gave up your little project.”

  “Club Mystique is not a project. It’s my job.”

  “As if you need a job. We both know you’ve invested wisely over the years. Why you cling to the façade of being an ordinary witch, I’ll never understand.”

  “Not all of us enjoy grandstanding like you.”

  “Grandstanding? A certain image is required. I am the Magissa of all our people, after all.”

  “More like a puffed-up peacock, if you ask me.” Gwyn folded her arms.

  Camille pursed her lips. For long minutes the two witches glared at each other, the chill of the marble room barely counteracting the heat of their combined tempers.

  Eventually Camille tossed her head. “Enough. We don’t like each other. We never have and we never will.”

  “Finally, something we agree on.” She didn’t mention that they’d once been friends. It was so long ago that she could hardly recall what they’d ever had in common.

  “If it wasn’t necessary to speak to you I’d have left you alone in that hovel you call home. But when you failed to attend the full moon gathering and then skipped my party, I had no other option than to arrange a private meeting.”

  “I can’t imagine what we need to discuss that couldn’t have waited until the quarterly Coven court is held.”

  “Can’t you?” Camille paused a few feet from her. “I want to know your intentions.”

  “Intentions for what?”

  “Towards the chair. Do you hope to take over the duties of the Magissa?”

  “Not likely. Why?”

  Camille shrugged. “I’ve held the chair for a long time.”

  “You woke me up because you’re worried about your job?” Gwyn didn’t even try to keep the incredulous tone out of her voice.