Moonshine Wizard

by Phillip Drayer Duncan

  “What’s your deal with wanting to kill Hunter?” Bert asked, too tired to argue. “And that’s not what I meant. What should we do about finding out where he got this from, or what it is exactly?”

  “Oh, well, I thought that’s what you meant, but that’s stupid, so I selected a different answer. And I’ve got no problem with Hunter. He seems like a great guy. It’s the whole ripping people’s faces off I’m not a fan of.”

  “Why?”

  “Is that a serious question?”

  “I meant the first part.”

  “Well, then, specify, ass hat. The answer is because it doesn’t matter. When he’s pulling your intestines up through your throat, I bet you won’t be wondering how he became a lycanthrope.”

  “You’re probably right, but at the moment, I have a close friend who is turning into a very powerful lycanthrope that is capable...as you put it, of pulling my intestines through my throat, and I’m going to help him find out how to control it. Knowing what it is and where it came from could help, so that’s where I’m going to start.”

  When Sharp didn’t reply, Bert called out to Uncle Tony again.

  The voice that responded wasn’t in his head. It came from inside the house. Bert turned around and went back inside, relieved to see his mentor had arrived. Tony stood with his arms crossed, looking down at Hunter. If he’d truly been in a fight, it wasn’t obvious. He wore the same thing he’d been wearing the last time Bert had seen him.

  As he walked back into the house, Tony said, “I thought you said this was an emergency.”

  Bert glanced around the wrecked the living room, as if that was answer enough. “It was a minute ago.”

  “It looks like you took care of it.”

  “He almost killed me,” Bert said, snorting. “Might’ve pulled my intestines through my throat.”

  Tony arched an eyebrow at him.

  “What?” Bert knew that look meant he’d missed something obvious.

  “And you never knew this before?”

  “No, I’ve never sensed anything different about his energy,” Bert replied, and then thinking on his toes said, “So, he must have been bitten recently.”

  Tony stared at him. “Have you spent any time investigating, or did you hope I’d do it for you?”

  “Well, I didn’t have a chance to begin the formal investigation while he was trying to eat me.”

  Tony shook his head.

  Bert was way too tired for this. “So, how exactly would I figure out when he was bitten?”

  “You could start by asking him.”

  Bert couldn’t help but smile. Uncle Tony was right. He should’ve thought of that.

  He stepped over to Hunter and knelt beside him, gently nudging him awake. Hunter’s eyes opened, groggily taking in Bert and the man beside him. Bert handed him the moonshine again. Hunter took another drink and handed it back. Bert took a swig as well.

  Giving his friend a reassuring smile, Bert said, “Hunter, this is Tony. He’s here to help me figure out what’s going on with you.”

  “All right,” Hunter replied. His eyes were fully open, but he still seemed groggy.

  Bert said, “We’re going to ask you some questions. They may seem a little weird, but–”

  “Weirder than me trying to eat you?” Hunter interrupted.

  Bert chuckled. “Probably.”

  Hunter reached for the Mason jar. “More moonshine.”

  Bert handed it to him, then took another pull himself. He started to set it down, but Tony took it from him and had a sip as well.

  Bert asked, “What do you remember about what just happened?”

  Hunter stared at him for a moment, then said, “I remember pain. Like I was exploding from the inside. Like my bones were snapping. And then I was angry and damned hungry.” He paused. “I know it doesn’t make sense.”

  “That’s all right, buddy. Do you remember chronologically what events took place?”

  “I think so. I remember feeling weird when we got home. I kept having...flashes of memories or feelings...but they weren’t mine. It was like I was an animal or something, or another person. I can’t describe it.”

  Bert listened, but it didn’t make much sense to him either. “Go on, explain it the best you can.”

  “Well, I remember at one point having a memory of fighting a bear.”

  “A bear?”

  “Yeah man...a fucking bear. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t a memory, but it felt like one. Like it was my memory. It belonged to me, but I’m pretty sure I’ve never fought a bear.”

  “I’m pretty sure you’d have mentioned it,” Bert said, grinning. “Do you know why you were fighting?”

  “That was the weirdest part,” he said, shaking his head. “I was fighting him for a mate.”

  “A mate?”

  “Yeah, she was watching. I didn’t see her, but I remember her smell.”

  Bert was getting more lost by the moment. “Do you remember any more of these flashes?”

  “Yeah, I remember standing on a hilltop watching a battle. There were men fighting with swords and spears. I can still hear their screams. It was terrifying...and it was my memory. As if I’d lived it.”

  Bert took another sip of moonshine and handed the jar to Hunter. “So you had several flashes like this?”

  “Yeah, but most of them I can’t remember clearly.”

  “Okay, what about the events after the flashes?”

  “I don’t know. I remember thinking I was losing my mind. I looked at Allie, and…I couldn’t remember her name. Just that she was my mate. I knew her smell. Then I remember you coming in. And I was so goddamned angry, and so…hungry. I couldn’t stop myself. I wanted to kill you.”

  “Yeah, I remember that part.”

  “I’m sorry, brother,” Hunter said. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

  “I’m fine,” Bert said, waving the notion away.

  “Do you know what happened to me?”

  “I’m not positive,” Bert said, honestly enough. “Do you remember anything strange happening recently?”

  “No, not that I can recall. Is there something particular I should be thinking of?”

  “Well, do you remember anything, or anyone, biting you?”

  Hunter’s eyes met Bert’s, trying to decide if he were joking. “No, and I’m pretty sure I’d remember if anything bit me.”

  Bert handed him the moonshine and turned, looking up at Tony. “So, what do you think?”

  Tony shrugged. “I already know the answer. You can figure it out.”

  Bert fought down a groan. One thing Tony had always harped on was that being tired was never a valid excuse. His old mentor wasn’t going to tell him. And Sharp wouldn’t help him cheat. Even if he did, Bert suspected Tony would somehow know. So, without another option, he stopped feeling sorry for himself and started thinking it through.

  The were-creatures he knew were all turned into were-creatures. And he’d never heard of them having memories that weren’t their own. This was different, but why? Why had Hunter had memories of bears and some ancient battle? Where could they have come from?

  He pondered it for a few moments until it struck him like a hammer. Glancing up at Tony, he said, “Blood. That’s it, isn’t it? It’s in his bloodline?”

  Tony gave him an approving nod. “Buried in your friend’s blood is an ancient, very powerful magic.”

  “Really?” Bert asked.

  “It isn’t that surprising,” Tony said. “There are people all over the world with ancient magic lying dormant in their DNA. Most people never have a clue. Hell, kid, you don’t know what could be hiding in yours. Who does? There aren’t many true lycanthropes left. Most of the bloodlines, such as your friend’s, were targeted in ancient wars, but the magic was too strong to be destroyed. So they were sealed, imprisoning the beasts within. Most will likely never manifest again, but occasionally one gets triggered.”

  “So, what triggered Hunter’s?”

&n
bsp; Tony didn’t answer.

  “Right,” Bert said. “Figure it out for myself.”

  As far as Bert knew, no one else in Hunter’s family had previously turned into a ravenous monster, and it wasn’t like he was going to call Hunter’s parents to ask. He dropped that line of thought and focused on what Tony had said. Ancient wars. It was strange to even hear him mention them. It was rare anyone in the supernatural community spoke of the ‘wars of old.’ Sure, they’d covered them briefly in wizard school, but either the Hand didn’t have an accurate accounting, or they were intentionally vague. Either way, he didn’t have enough information to formulate a hypothesis based on history. He did wonder what the Autumn Woe must have been like. Wizards, were-creatures, and whatever else flinging around all that power. It must’ve been… Oh, he thought, I’m a moron.

  “The Autumn Woe?” he asked.

  Tony nodded. “It was already brimming on the surface, trying to break free. It may have been another hundred years, or more, before it broke the binds that held it, but, for whatever reason, the disturbance of magical energy of was the catalyst it needed. The time he’s spent around you and your friends probably loosened it up. The Autumn Woe set it free. Or did you think this was just a big coincidence?”

  “So, what does this mean for Hunter? I mean, do I need to report it to Carter or something?”

  “Only if you want to see your friend in chains,” Tony said, shaking his head. “If you go through proper channels, there’s a good chance the wrong people will intervene and take him. Like I said, there aren’t many true lycanthropes on this planet anymore. There are plenty of assholes who’ll want to study him.”

  Hunter’s eyes popped open. “I’d rather not be studied.”

  “He didn’t ask for this,” Bert said, panicking. “There must be something else we can do.”

  “I agree,” Tony said. “That’s why I’m giving you another official assignment. Tomorrow you’re going to introduce your pal to the real world.”

  “I don’t know,” Bert said, shaking his head. “I’m not the safest person to be around right now.”

  “It’s your choice,” Tony replied. “You can either do what I ask, or report this little incident through proper channels and you say goodbye to your friend.”

  “Well, when you put it like that…” Bert said. “Of course, I’ll do it.”

  “Good,” Tony said. “I’m giving you the task of overseeing his transition into the supernatural world. It may take you a while.”

  Given his present circumstances, and enemies, Bert didn’t like the idea of being responsible for Hunter’s safety too. But he didn’t have much of a choice. “What about... I don’t know how to say this... What about his curse?”

  Tony chuckled. “Most wizards might call it a curse. I wouldn’t. And don’t worry about that part. I’ll get an expert lined up to help him. You’re just introducing him to our world. But, if you think he’s about to change, notify me immediately.”

  Feeling a little more positive Bert said, “Okay, so what’s next?”

  Tony said, “Pick your friend up and walk him to his bed.”

  Bert complied and threw an arm around Hunter and helped him to his feet. With an awkward shuffle, he managed to get his friend back to his bed.

  When he returned to the living room, the mess was gone and everything was as it was before he arrived. Dumbfounded, Bert stared at his old Mentor, then back around the room.

  Tony strolled past him. “Come on, I ain’t got all damn night.”

  Bert turned to follow and said, “Thanks Uncle, I didn’t know what I was going to do about the mess.”

  Tony grunted a reply, and Bert realized it wasn’t for his benefit so much as one of Tony’s poignant lessons… Never leave a supernatural mess behind.

  Standing over Hunter, Tony said, “I’m going to put you into a deep sleep. You won’t wake up until morning, but you’ll feel better. I know you have questions, but Bert will explain tomorrow.”

  “What about Allie and the girls?” Hunter asked, trying to rise.

  “Your house has been fixed,” Bert replied, shrugging. “You can’t tell anything happened. I’ll call her and let her know it’s safe to come back.”

  “Is it, though?” Hunter asked.

  Tony nodded. “Don’t worry. You won’t change again tonight.”

  “Okay,” Hunter said, looking extremely confused and tired.

  “Just rest, Hunter.” Bert said, patting him on the shoulder.

  “Thank you,” he replied and closed his eyes.

  With the help of Tony’s spell, Hunter was out cold and snoring in moments.

  Bert followed Tony back outside and said, “Thank you, Uncle. I really appreciate you coming.”

  “No problem, kid. Just make sure you handle your part.”

  “I will,” Bert said. “Hey, about that other thing.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “It’s gotten bigger. I was approached by a group of young wizards, The Brotherhood of the Magic Bane, and believe it or not, clowns.”

  Tony eyed him suspiciously. “Clowns? Explain.”

  “Yeah,” Bert said. “Clowns. Super magic, razor teeth, creepy as fuck, the whole bit.”

  “Better fill me in.”

  Tony maintained an impassive glare as Bert filled him in, leaving out no detail. When he was done, Tony shrugged and said, “It doesn’t change your mission. I still want you to find whatever they are after.”

  “I will,” Bert replied. “I have one more question before you go.”

  “Shoot.”

  “You said most wizards would consider Hunter’s condition a curse, but not you. What do you consider it?”

  “With as many enemies as you have stacked against you, I thought you might figure it out on your own.” Tony grinned. “One of your best friends can turn into a super-powered grizzly bear. In our line of business, having a friend like that isn’t a curse. It’s a goddamned blessing.”

  ***

  Exhausted, and a little beat to hell, Bert tried to sneak into his room without waking Lilith. He set his sword and staff in the corner, ensuring the ward was active to keep them hidden. Then he dropped his clothes to the floor in an unceremonious pile and crept into bed.

  “Is your friend okay?” Lilith asked in a quiet voice.

  “Yeah, he’s fine,” Bert replied. “Sorry if I woke you.”

  “You didn’t,” she said, then added, “I felt bad for not going with you.”

  “No worries,” he replied, grateful she hadn’t. “It wasn’t a big deal. He just wasn’t…feeling well.”

  “Oh, was he, like, sick?”

  Bert wasn’t sure how to answer. On the way home, he’d tried to come up with a decent lie, but he was too tired to weave anything imaginative. So, he said, “I think he’s been having a tough time at work. It isn’t easy being a cop these days, you know? They deal with the worst of society with little thanks. I think he just needed someone to talk to, and he might’ve had a few too many drinks. He’s a big boy. When he gets to stumbling things tend to break. Makes Allie nervous. That’s all.”

  “So, he’s okay now?”

  “Yeah, he’s all right. I told him I’d take him to work with me tomorrow. Get some time away.”

  “Oh, well, why haven’t you invited me to work with you?”

  “My work is dangerous. Hunter packs heat. You don’t.”

  “Oh, and just how sure are you of that? I’m a big girl, Waylon. I can handle myself.”

  “You’re right,” he said, shrugging. “But I’ll never stop looking out for your wellbeing, Miss Attitude.”

  She chuckled and said, “You must be tired. Want me to relocate to the couch?”

  “No,” he replied, perhaps a little too quickly. “You can stay here.”

  She snuggled up next to him and whispered, “That’s what I was hoping you’d say.”

  Bert’s throat caught in his chest. Was she insinuating something?

  Bef
ore he had a chance to ponder further she said, “Because I really didn’t want to get up.”

  Wondering if he’d just missed another opportunity, Bert closed his eyes, and in a few moments fell asleep.

  Chapter 17

  Bert hated mornings, so when Hunter called at the butt crack of dawn he refused to get up. When Hunter tried again a few hours later, Bert complied, but only because he knew his friend needed answers. Leaving Lilith asleep in his bed, he crept out of his room and headed for the kitchen. He wasn’t known for keeping a well-stocked fridge, but managed to find an old slice of pizza. Scarfing it down, he headed back to his room to get his gear.

  The game had changed and things were getting serious; more serious than any time in his life. Sneaking around the room, he collected an assortment of gear he only broke out for the worst of occasions. The way things were shaping up, he’d need every advantage he could find.

  From his closet, he pulled out his black Carhartt jacket. It wasn’t biker tough or rich tit nice, but rather plain. The kind of jacket a mechanic or farmer wore. It didn’t stand out, which allowed him to blend in with a crowd. He grabbed a black zip-up hoodie as well. It wasn’t particularly sexy either, but the combination would keep him warm.

  Next, he made his way over to his gun cabinet, secretly hoping he’d find a larger assortment of firearms than he remembered owning. Alas, it was the same collection as always. It wasn’t just the fact his magic would zap modern guns, but also, he was too poor to buy new toys. Within he had a .357 Magnum revolver, a sawed off single shot .410, an old Winchester lever action 30-30 which Hunter had restored, and his spare magic staff. He didn’t need the staff, and the 30-30 would be a pain to carry.

  He pulled out the shotgun. It had been the first gun he’d carried as a bounty hunter. It was a single shot break action, limiting its usefulness in a gun fight, but the mechanics were so simple his magical energy never posed a concern. There was a dwarf in Eureka who worked as a gun smith. Unbeknownst to the public, he specialized in supernatural ‘friendly’ firearms. He’d sawed the barrel down, reinforced the metal, and chopped off the stock at the hand curve. He also supplied ammunition for a variety of supernatural entities; shotgun shells filled with garlic pellets for vampires, others with iron for fae-like beings, and even good ole fashioned explosive rounds. Even without special ammo, it was devastating at close range, especially as a club. He decided to keep it in his vehicle.