The Frenzy War (10 page)

“You don't seem to get tired of listening to her.”

“I'm just waiting for new developments.”

“Be glad there aren't any. That's the problem with people today: everyone's watching the cable news networks, waiting for new developments, so the networks have to frame trivial events to seem like new developments.”

“This isn't trivial.”

“No, it isn't.”

“You think Gabriel and Raphael will shut down the store?”

Samuel shrugged. “It's not good for the store to be in the spotlight, but something like this could turn it into a real hot spot for tourists.”

“Commerce versus survival of the species. I wonder how Angela's doing.”

“I don't know.”

“She was hot. I'd have mated with her.”

“Sure you would have. And gotten yourself a little closer to Gabriel's inner circle.”

“What's wrong with that?”

“Nothing, I guess. Too bad she mated with one of them.”

“Yeah. How do you think that happened? I mean, I know we're all the same on the outside, but it isn't natural.”

“I check out fine-looking women every day, and I think, ‘You could be a Wolf and not even know it.' It's tempting to see if I can bring it out of them. I guess that's how it happens.”

Tim yawned. “It must have been an embarrassment to Gabriel, though.”

Samuel looked out the window. “I don't think Gabriel can
be
embarrassed.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“He's too thoughtful, too willing to listen to dissenting voices. He's a peacemaker more than a leader. I wish Raphael was in charge.”

Tim sat up. “Gabriel's the eldest. That's all there is to it. Besides, he runs things the way Angus did.”

“Angus's way was fine for the previous generation. The world's changed. We need to change with it.”

“I don't want to talk politics. Tell me about some of those fine women you check out.”

“Not now. I see a van. Turn off the TV and warn Kyle.”

Angelo steered the black passenger van along the quiet residential street with Michael sitting beside him. Except for lights flickering in one or two picture windows, the houses in the neighborhood were dark inside, their exteriors illuminated by colorful, flashing Christmas decorations. As they neared their destination, Angelo killed the headlights and slowed down, allowing the van to coast.

“Right on schedule, 0336 hours,” Michael said.

Behind them, bodies shifted in the darkness. All the team members wore loose-fitting black garments beneath their long dusters, which were unbuttoned.

Michael unrolled his black mask over his head and affixed his headset. Then he pulled on his night vision goggles, and everyone but Angelo did the same. The world before him
turned bright green. Finally, he put on his black leather gloves.

“Open the door,” Michael said.

Someone did, allowing cold air to flow inside.

“Now.”

One at a time, the Torquemadans jumped out of the moving van and landed on the pavement with precision and in silence. As soon as they settled, they rushed across the Lourdes' lawn.

Michael didn't say anything to Angelo. He didn't need to; they had planned the operation together. He leapt into the air and landed on the street, then took off after the others. Security lights above the house's front door flashed on, illuminating the yard as the van proceeded down the street. Angelo would turn the van around, close the side door, and wait.

The glowing Christmas lights caused distortion in the night vision goggles, and Michael adjusted their filter. He hoped everyone else did the same. He did not intend to break radio silence early.

Two silhouettes crouched at the front door: Myles and Eun. To Michael, they resembled ninjas wearing overcoats. They all did. Myles and Eun attacked separate locks on the door with their lock-picking tools.

Michael followed Henri and Valeria around a maroon SUV and a silver compact parked in the driveway to the side of the house. Henri and Valeria pressed themselves against opposite sides of the door, and Henri removed his own lock-picking tool.

Michael glided past them to the gate of the wooden fence that surrounded the property. Rather than test the gate and risk activating an alarm before they had all assumed their
positions, he set his palms on top of the gate and vaulted over it, the Blade bumping against his leg. His boots slapped the concrete louder than he would have preferred, and he hurried to the back door. Like the others, he removed his lock-picking tool and inserted it into the door's keyhole. Hearing a click, he returned the tool to his pocket and listened for sounds inside the house. Then he pressed the Talk button on his headset and whispered, “Is everyone ready?”

“Affirmative,” Myles said.

“Affirmative,” Valeria said.

“Let's do it.”

Valeria held her breath until she heard Michael give the order. Then, exhaling, she opened the door. Henri ran in first, and she followed him and closed the door. To their left, a narrow stairway led to the basement; to their right, three steps went into the kitchen. Based on their intelligence, Michael had to do the same thing out back but alone. Myles and Eun had to pick two locks and enter the override command into the alarm keypad.

With her night vision goggles, Valeria saw Henri open the flimsy door leading into the kitchen, and as she trailed him, she heard the keening of the alarm keypad. The noise would probably awaken the house's inhabitants, but at least a police patrol would not be dispatched in response to an actual alarm.

Henri moved swift and silent, like a shadow, and she did her best to follow suit. She disliked wearing the mask, goggles, and duster, which restricted her senses and movements.
They entered the dining room, then emerged into a great room, where a figure joined them, causing her to jump. She had known Michael would be here, had expected to see him, and yet his sudden appearance had still startled her. The alarm pad in the next room stopped keening.

The three of them continued into the living room, where they saw Myles and Eun standing side by side. Framed photos on an entertainment unit showed Jason Lourdes and his parents at various events and on vacation: just a normal American family. Michael motioned to Myles and Eun, who crept up the stairs. Then he and Henri approached the banister to do the same.

Valeria heard a sound like heavy breathing. Spinning on one heel, she saw three hulking shapes rise before her in unison. She registered their pointy ears and ferocious snouts, and she noticed distinct musculature beneath their fur. The werewolves stood seven feet tall, their gleaming eyes focused on her.

They can see in the dark,
Valeria thought. “Company!”

When Samuel saw the black passenger van decelerating near the house, Tim notified Kyle, who watched the backyard from the kitchen window. The three of them ran into the basement, where they stripped off their clothes and stood naked, waiting.

When they heard the side door open and saw the male and female assassins enter, Tim nodded to his companions and all three of them Changed. Then they ascended the
stairs in dead silence and followed the pair into the great room. The humans joined another male and then a male and a female in the living room. They wore night vision goggles but carried no discernible weapons, though Tim assumed they were armed to the teeth.

The Wolves moved unnoticed along the floor until the first female turned around. Fearing she was seconds from discovering them, Tim reared up on his hind legs, startling her. He knew that Samuel and Kyle did the same behind him. When the woman called out to her comrades, Tim flexed his muscles, showing her just how magnificent a specimen he had become. It was important to keep the element of surprise on their side.

Michael turned at the sound of Valeria's panicked voice and saw three werewolves towering before her, their ears almost touching the ceiling. All three were males, which meant there had to be at least one more creature—a female— somewhere in the house.

A trap. They were expecting us!

Using one hand, he eased Valeria out of his way. “Don't let them box us in. They
want
us to go upstairs.” He drew the Blade of Salvation from his coat and wielded the heavy weapon in both hands.

The werewolves snarled at the sight of his sword but showed no fear otherwise. Upstairs, he heard the thumping of feet—paws!—and the growling of at least two more beasts.

Five on five.

Moving to his right with the stairway behind him, Michael formed a triangle with the werewolves at one point and Valeria at the other. “Take them!”

In response to his command, Valeria and Henri drew swords of their own. Silver swords. Blades of Salvation. He heard Myles and Eun draw their weapons as well.

Five strong.

The werewolves looked from human to human, their bestial countenances exhibiting equal parts confusion and rage.

Surprise!

Michael charged forward, cocking his Blade over his shoulder and swinging it deep into the first monster's neck. The werewolf howled in agony and sank to his knees. When Michael wrenched his Blade free, blood sprayed out of the gaping neck wound with such force that it splattered the ceiling. He swung his sword again, separating the monster's head from his shoulders. The head rolled across the carpet, followed by gushing blood as the carcass pitched forward.