Hair of the Wolf (17 page)

The watcher in the drain smiled—barely visible in the black was the glint of fangs. Half a block away the police were investigating a murder. The watcher knew that the six people were there for the same reason. It had taken them too long to catch up, but their time was finally at hand.

A teen boy, rocking out to his iPod, strolled by the drain cover. He paused, watching the Hackey circle, smiled, and kept walking down the reservoir. Once he had passed by, the shadow in the drain had vanished.

Pop. Pop. Pop
. Josh flicked the Hackey Sack easily from foot to foot, not really paying attention to it. Between hundreds of hours spent playing Hackey Sack, and the far superior reflexes a werewolf had, keeping the little bead-filled sack in the air was a thoughtless activity. With a deft flick of his ankle he sent it sailing over to Jenna, who was munching on a bagel while playing.

None of the Pack were here for the Hackey Sack. It was just a convenient cover for them. Something to do while they all listened to what was happening almost half a block away. Werewolves have very good hearing.

It was a hot and muggy summer day, especially down here by the Cherry Creek Reservoir, and all of them would have rather been in air conditioning or swimming in a lake somewhere … which was where most people with an iota of common sense were. No one liked being a human dartboard for well-aimed mosquitoes.

But duty had called, and there isn’t an answering machine to catch the call when a bloodsucking fiend is randomly ripping out throats of innocent bystanders in your city. Josh slapped down, squishing a mosquito. The little buggers got everywhere.

“It’s the third one this month.” Came a man's voice as the conversation down the road started back up again.

Another, slightly deeper voice replied. “So, Haskins, it looks like we have a serial killer on our hands. I was hoping they were just unrelated violence.” The speaker sighed so audibly that the Pack could almost hear his shoulders slumping and his head shaking. “I hate cases dealing with twisted pieces of work like this. What are you thinking, Rick? FBI time?”

“I’m thinking we better catch this guy fast. Let’s hope it doesn’t get to the point that we have to call in federal help. How long do you think we have before the media catches wind of this, Jack?”

Josh watched the hack get passed from Jenna to Drew. The leaner werewolf, in his early forties, was grimacing, his head tilted to one side. He had been in enough scraps and taken enough damage to his body that he had to focus a little harder to catch what was happening up the street.

A nasty looking scar ran down his right ear and halfway across his cheek, which had guaranteed that he would always have to focus to hear as well as others.

The deeper voiced detective up by the police cars spoke again. “I hope they don't. Of course, that would be too good to be true. They always find out too fast, and I'm sure someone somewhere is already getting a few bucks for tipping off someone else. Way of the world. They're vultures. I’ve been keeping the channels clear on this but haven’t actually red filed it yet. Hopefully it’ll slip through the cracks between all the other high profile cases.”

Haskins chuckled grimly. “Smart move. Let’s see if it works. Lemme know on that. Here comes Angela.”

A third voice, female, contributed to the conversation. “Sergeant, Detective. Enjoying the sun, boys? I have some of the preliminary results back. Cause of death is suffocation. Ribcage was partially crushed and both lungs collapsed. Victim was dead of asphyxiation before blood loss. Corpse was definitely moved; that one is based on the low volume of blood here at the scene. Whatever took her throat out did it post mortem, splatter patterns under the jaw indicate that it was a close second though …”

The woman shuffled through her notes. “Lesse here.…It’s an odd one, for sure. Looks like an animal wound, but no dentition marks to speak of found in the wound.…Dentition, if that’s what it is, is more human than anything else. Same weapon as the other two, whatever it is. I'll have to get her in the lab and on the slab though, if you want anything more than that.”

“All right, thanks, Jones. Haskins, I'll call you when I hear something. Thanks for coming out. Jones, bag the DOA. Coroner is on the way for transport. Let me know the second you come up with anything.”

Drew scooped the Hackey Sack out of the air and tossed it to Josh. Everyone in the circle looked over to the two women not participating. Tabitha was older, with reddish hair going silver. But her hair was the only indication that she was in her late fifties. Her muscles were strong and sleek, and her skin smooth. She wore a tie-dye shirt and jeans. She had a large book in her lap and was just looking up from it.

Amber sat across from her, cross-legged, with the folds of her black skirt folded carefully into her lap. Her hands, showcased by a pair of leather bracers that sat oddly on her forearms, were primly placed on top of the dress. Long, naturally black hair cascaded down her back, and her lips were parted in a slight grin.

Josh softly cleared his throat. “Tabitha? Are we done here?”

She stood up, closing the book. “Yes. It’s definitely one of them. It will have gone to ground during the daylight hours. We need the cops out of here before we can pick up the trail. Unless …” Tabitha chewed her bottom lip.

Drew popped his knuckles. “Tabs, these guys don't know how to deal with this. You sure you want a Feral to be their first real hunt?”

“I don't see that we have much choice, Drew. There is a Feral in town, it’s just going to keep killing till someone takes it down. And you know as well as I do that if it’s the cops that catch up to it, a lot of people will die and it might still get away.”

Drew grunted. “Goddamned vampires, leaving messes like this for us to clean up.”

“You are both such … look. The P.I. failed. We have to get the scent while we can.” Amber, who had been sitting with Tabitha, dropped her skirt to the ground and stood stark naked in front of everyone, with that same impish grin on her lips. She darted up the hill, black hair streaming behind her, and by the time she was up at street level, she looked like a black-furred wolf.

Tabitha growled under her breath, then spun back to the pack. “Dammit, we don’t take
risks
like that. Eliot, lost dog bit.
Go!”

One of the other players from the Hackey Sack circle, a tall and darkly handsome young man, nodded curtly. Reaching over to the group's ice chest he pulled out a collar and leash, then jogged up from the reservoir.

Josh pushed his sandy blond hair out of his eyes and started to pack up the water bottles and other “hanging out” paraphernalia the group had distributed. “Jenna, could you grab Amber's clothes?”

Jenna snapped back out of whatever she had been thinking, pulled her sarong up a bit, and knelt down to collect Amber's hastily discarded outfit. Tabitha and Drew were off to the side quietly arguing. She glances back to Josh. “Yeah, sorry Josh. I was just thinking … you know ... it’s really messed up that vamps leave their cubs like that.”

Josh nodded as he picked up the ice chest. “Yeah, it is. But I was reading some of the stuff Tabitha left at our place, and it’s not all of their cubs. It’s, like, one can't cope, you know, and goes crazy. So the older ones let it go get itself killed. But, like, the ones that don't go schizoid get nurtured and stuff.”

“It’s just so … heartless. So cruel.”

“Jenna. They're vampires. They suck blood and kill to stay alive.”

“But Josh, that doesn't mean they don't have hearts, it just means they have a harder life. There's good in everything if you dig deep enough.”

“Yeah, but for vampires, they get the goodness sucked out of them at birth, you know?”

Tabitha clapped, once. “Alright kids. Go time. We can debate supernatural nature versus nurture some other time. Right now, one of our own has done something stupid, so we have to seize the opportunity while trying to protect her.”

Josh was trying not to grin. He was sure no one else was focused on listening to what was happening up the street … But what he heard was Eliot saying, “No, Amber! Bad Dog! Get off the officer's leg. I'm so sorry, sir. She gets like this during the summers. DOWN, AMBER!”

He snorted once, and choked down the laugh. “Alright. I'm like, ready and stuff.”

The remaining four hiked up the small hill to the other side of the reservoir, where Josh's VW Bus was parked, and piled into it.

The blue van, along with its dozens of Grateful Dead, Phish, and pot leaf stickers pulled out into the street and headed along Cherry Creek.

A few blocks, and fifteen minutes later, Eliot walked up to the van, leading Amber by collar and leash. The two hopped through side door, and Drew poked his head out for a second.

“All clear.” he said as he pulled his head back in and slid the door shut. “Any luck?”

Eliot grunted and nodded towards Amber as she shifted back to her human form. “Ask her.”

Amber grinned as she struggled back into her clothes, and paused for a second to tweak Drew's cheek. “Jinkies Fred! I followed the scent all the way a storm drain cover, and then it vanished underground. I think it’s a clue!”

Drew frowned at Amber. “Crap. That’s not good.”

Jenna looked back. “Why? Is it using the sewers to get around town? Are we going to have to try to track it through … oh, ewwwww …” The light dawned and she realized what they’d have to track it through.

Tabitha grimaced also. “No. It’s living down there, not traveling through it. It'll be fairly close to the entrance, too. It won’t want to stray far from food.”

“What's the problem then?” Josh glanced at the rear-view mirror to see everyone else. “We just, like, pop down now. Nail it while it’s asleep. Easy fight.”

“Eager to die today, Josh?”

“What do you mean, Drew?”

Tabitha
hmphed
and spoke up. “Hush boys. What Drew is trying to say is that going in there right now is a very dangerous idea. It probably won’t be asleep. It’s dark enough that the Vampire is safe.”

Eliot's brows wrinkled in confusion, but it was Josh that spoke up. “Wait. I thought all vamps, you know, like, passed out during the day.”

Tabitha shook her head. “No more than werewolves have to wait till a full moon to change. Why should vampires be stuck to folklore rules when we aren't?”

Jenna shook her head. “But wait. We have to study and practice to get that type of control. You mean vampires don't?”

Amber grinned, “You mean you guys have to study, slowpokes.” She stuck out her tongue and waggled her fingers in her ears, but no one seemed to notice. They were all used to getting sassed by her.

This time it was Drew who answered. “Not for a feral. A normal vamp, yeah, but ferals are different. The Beast controls them, and there’s barely anything left to call human. Ferals can do things that most vamps can't do for the first couple years or decades of their lives.” He paused for a moment, thinking the situation through. "We have to hit during the day, though. If we wait till tonight, it might move to a different hidey hole, then we have to wait for another killing.”

Tabitha nodded. “Good instincts, Drew. At least it’s in the dark and the kids will be able to change.”

The pack was silent for the next couple moments, as they finished the drive to Josh's apartment. As they swung off Hampden Avenue and into Josh's condo complex, the pack seemed to come to an unspoken agreement. This needed to be done, and there was no one else to do it.

Quietly, they walked to into Josh’s. Amber tugged at her hair as she leaned against a wall, then looked to her pack mother. “Tabitha, I have to ask you something. We all know that your pack was killed by vampires … and you told us when we were kids about our packs … but you've never told us the whole story. And since we're about to fight one of these things … I kind of want to know if this is a vengeance kick for you or what?”

“It doesn't matter,” broke in Drew.

Tabitha frowned. “No, it’s a valid question.” She sighed and motioned to the various beanbags and ergonomic chairs around the room. “Go ahead and pull up seats. Amber is right, my motivation is important. It’s part of what I'm trying to teach you guys. At your center, you have to be calm. Be the eye of the storm. It’s like being at the middle of a seesaw. On either side things moving, while you sit at that pivot point. If I am going into this bent on vengeance, it will endanger all of you. So, I'm going to tell you a story, and let you decide.”

Eliot walked over to the fridge, grabbing a beer, while everyone else settled in to listen. “It was back in 1973. I was nineteen years old. My pack … they were fierce warriors. Fiercer than you can imagine. We numbered eleven strong, all trained warriors, when we came across the Vampire. It was … a continuation of an older fight. In retrospect, I suppose I should start with that first fight; at the beginning of the story as I know it.

“Our bloodlines come from Europe. During the late sixteenth century there was a war between Austria and the Ottoman Empire. Our families lived in the middle of that war, we were a part of it. Caught up in that, we … missed things we shouldn’t have. The wolves of the time found a woman who they thought was a vampire. At the time there was an uneasy peace between the races, so they could not act upon the depravities she was committing. People were being slaughtered by the dozens, she was a torturer. She even bathed in the blood of her victims.”

“Wait.” Jenna interrupted. “You mean Eli—”

“Do not say the name! To do so can draw her attention. But yes. You have the right person. Our families called her the Bloody Countess. Our families were wrong. She wasn’t a vampire. She was just a killer. We persecuted her though, and used our connections to have her entombed in her own home. It didn’t stay that way. She was rescued by the Vlad the Impaler and turned into a vampire. That was how we learned we were wrong.”

“Why can we say his name and not hers?” Josh asked.

“The Bloody Countess has been in each of our minds. Well, all of us but Drew. Speaking her name, it echoes. There is a personal tie. She can sense it. Vlad has not done the same to us, so he cannot.”