The Weapon Bearer's Son

by Steven F. Warnock

  “I prefer historical fiction, but romance pays the bills,” Mack sighed.

  “He’s lying, in church no less,” KC giggled. “He loves his romance series.”

  “Seriously?” Dwayne scoffed.

  “Don’t knock it, little brother. How do you think I won such an amazing woman as KC over? I mean, besides my stunning good looks and rocking hard body.”

  “Speaking of stunning good looks, KC, I love your new look,” Presley gushed.

  The same day that she and Mack had purchased the new 4Runner, KC had gone to a salon and gotten a new haircut and new color. In the weeks following the siege of Silver Dollar City, KC had stopped coloring her hair, letting her natural strawberry blond roots grow out. The stylist at the salon had trimmed away the excess red hair and taken KC’s blonde from strawberry to honey.

  “Thank you! I hadn’t realized just how long I’d let my hair get. My head feels so light now!”

  “Blondes do have more fun,” Presley declared, pretending to flip her own blonde hair, which was currently pulled back in a tight French braid. The color wasn’t natural since Presley was as brunette as any member of her biological family.

  “I don’t know about that. I haven’t been having any fun lately,” KC complained. “I am so glad tax season is over for this year!”

  “Guess it’s a good thing you don’t need sleep,” Liam chuckled.

  “That’s true,” KC agreed.

  “Pilar, can I ask you a question?” Dwayne spoke up.

  “Well, technically, that is a question itself, but otherwise, sure,” Pilar grinned back.

  “Mack told me that you’re like us, but I have never met a werewolf, man or woman, who is as small as you are,” Dwayne said.

  “And you’re wondering how is that possible, right?” Pilar took a bite of pastry and chewed for a moment to give herself a moment to collect her thoughts. “Okay, so, we’re not a family of dwarf werewolves, but we might as well be. I was four-foot-eight when I was fourteen. My mom, who is my werewolf parent, is five-two now, but she was four-ten at her First Change. My dad is five-five. His mother is four-six. My mom’s parents are both little. Abuelito is five-three, and Abuelita is five foot even. She says she was four-eight at her First Change. The family joke is that we’re not so much werewolves as we’re were-Chihuahuas.”

  “Werewolves and dogs have a certain, um, flexibility of genetic expression in common,” KC said. “Heck, some werewolves should just as well call themselves weredogs since their canine forms resemble large dog breeds like mastiffs and large hounds.”

  “That’s kind of my family’s shapeshifting ‘trick’,” Pilar said. “My wolf form is a small wolf, but I can change myself and look like a dog, like a Labrador or a Collie.”

  “That sounds super useful in urban settings,” Presley said. “Running around a town looking like a plus-sized wolf tends to scare the bejeezus out of the normal folks, but nobody pays attention to a stray dog.”

  “I wish I could do what Pilar does,” Mack admitted. “Doesn’t matter what I turn into, it’s always white. Wolf, eagle, stray dog, lost kitten...”

  “You can do cats now?” Dwayne gasped.

  Mack rolled his eyes. “Presley, Dwayne is still gullible.”

  “Oh, thank the Lord. That’s gonna make poker night so much more fun.”

  “I hate you both right now,” Dwayne sighed.

  Presley got an evil glint in her eye. “Oh, you don’t hate us now, but when I’m done telling Mack about your new girlfriend, then, you will hate us.”

  “Presley, don’t you dare!” Dwayne hissed.

  “Oh, it is too late now,” KC cackled. “Spill it, Presley. As many gory details as you have!”

  WITH THE LARGE NUMBER of children dining out was something of an effort on the part of the MacDuff-Monroe clan. The easiest option was, of course, McDonald’s, which was where they wound up this time, too. Fortunately, located nearby was a Wendy’s, a Burger King, a Dairy Queen, a Taco Time and a Taco John’s, a Subway and a Jersey Mikes, and a Starbucks. About half of kids were elementary school age, and the other half broke pretty evenly between teens and middle school age. The teens were allowed a greater degree of independence, but were expected to help out with the younger kids. So, even though the older kids went to get food from other places, everybody wound up at the McDonalds to eat together. The general manager of the McDonald’s was a friend, a MacDuff cousin in fact, and she had no problem with such a huge crowd filling up half the space in her store. Especially considering the amount of money they wound up spending every week.

  “How’s your search for your ‘Other Uncle’ going?” Silas asked around a mouthful of McChicken sandwich.

  Mack shrugged as he finished chewing the bite of Big Mac he’d just taken. “Slow since I’ve been distracted by other things. KC’s been doing most of the heavy lifting on that matter.”

  KC had a french fry halfway to her mouth, but paused and set it back down. “When I haven’t been helping people do their taxes, which has been most of the time, I’ve been corresponding with that law firm, asking them if they’d be willing to arrange a meeting with their client or at least pass to the client that Mack wants to make contact to confirm whether or not they’re related. I’ve laid the whole orphan angle on really thickly.”

  “And how’s that worked?” Rosalee asked.

  “It hasn’t,” KC sighed as she picked her fry back up and popped it into her mouth.

  “I’m thinking it might be about time KC and I drove on over to Delaware and started talking directly to people,” Mack grumbled.

  “You’re leaving?” Billy exclaimed unhappily.

  “Not right this minute, little partner,” Mack assured the boy, “but it will be soon.”

  “And it won’t be forever,” KC added.

  “It’s just the nature of how we live our lives,” Mack summed up.

  “Can I go with you?” Billy pleaded.

  Mack and KC looked at one another with sad expressions before shaking their heads.

  “Oh, no, honey,” KC sighed. “Busster isn’t set up for more people to live on it than us, really.”

  “Is it because I’m crippled?”

  “First of all, you are not a cripple,” KC admonished, “but Busster isn’t wheelchair accessible.”

  “Secondly, little partner, we can’t legally take you anywhere because we’re not your parents or your guardians. Ask Presley. That’s what the cops call ‘kidnapping’,” Mack added with a laugh as he ruffled Billy’s hair. “KC and me, we’re more like the cool aunt and uncle that show up and have a fun visit before going off on our next adventure.”

  “There’s also the matter of school,” KC said. “We want you to get a good education, learn to use that big brain of yours to its best advantage.”

  “Okay,” Billy sighed. “I’m gonna miss you guys.”

  KC got up from her seat so she could hug the boy. “And we’ll miss you, too.”

  “Careful there, little partner. I might get the idea you’re trying to steal my girl.”

  “Too late,” Billy grinned.

  Chapter Four

  Big Sky, Montana

  Monday, April 29, 2019

  A WEEK HAD GONE INTO preparing and planning for the trip to Dover, Delaware, where the offices of Boros, Mason, Charbonneau, & Salcedo were located. Mack & KC had come to decision to carry out this particular mission by themselves, and in the interest of stealth, they’d be leaving Busster behind and driving cross country in the new 4Runner, which still had not been named, although KC had collected a list of suggestions from family members that she was contemplating using.

  When asked why they were leaving Busster behind Mack had remarked, “Two reasons: one, a big blue school bus tends to stick out when you might be tailing somebody, and two, Busster is my home. I’ll be coming back for my home.”

  The fact that Mack and KC were leaving their bus behind seemed to comfort Billy’s anxiety at their departure. He’d bec
ome attached to Mack and KC over the past month, and they’d likewise become attached to him. They’d made their good-byes to the boy the previous night as they planned on leaving before he even got up in the morning.

  One of the problems that they had to work out was how well armed would they be. They obviously couldn’t bring along their full arsenal in the 4Runner if they wanted to maintain a relatively low profile. In the end they decided to pack along their recently acquired Program-issued field kits. They both decided to carry the highly concealable pistols that had come with the kits and pack away their usual sidearms within. Mack swapped out the Thompson Center LRR sniper rifle for his AR-10, the Hammer, and KC kept her kit more or less the same with her new HK416. Both duffels fit effortlessly in the backseat of the SUV.

  They also packed a minimal amount of clothing, veering away from their usual 5.11 Tactical gear into more ordinary blue jeans, tee shirts, and sneakers. They replaced their field jackets with more ordinary windbreakers. With the addition of a few accessories, they looked for all the world like a couple of young camping enthusiasts. To add to that appearance, Silas loaned them a tent, a couple of sleeping bags, and a cooler to carry food in.

  An hour or so before sunrise, Mack and KC left the Double M ranch. Their goal for the first day of travel was a small town called Murdo, South Dakota. Including rest stops and a meal break, they would be on the road for roughly twelve hours. Even with their superhuman stamina, neither of them would be any good without a few hours rest after that long of a drive.

  MURDO, SOUTH DAKOTA

  Tuesday, April 30, 2019

  MACK AND KC DIDN’T often stay in hotels, but the Best Western in Murdo was conveniently located near the interstate. Instead of leaving right away, they waited for the breakfast room to be opened and ate a hearty breakfast before checking out. The second leg of their journey wasn’t nearly as long because they were going to Kansas City, Missouri, next where they would spend the night with KC’s parents. They were on the road again by 8 am.

  KANSAS CITY, MISSOURI

  Wednesday, May 1, 2019

  MACK AND KC HAD ARRIVED at the MacMurray house between five and six in the evening. KC’s mom, Karol Ardelean, wasn’t much of a cook. She had been capable of keeping her husband and daughters fed, of course, but nobody bragged on her cooking, not even herself. Her skills, though, were in knowing which local restaurants had the best take-out and how to get last minute reservations at the better establishments in the city. So, Dr. Bob and Karol treated Mack and KC to KC’s favorite barbecue restaurant, Smokebox BBQ. Karol had joked afterwards that the both of them would need a shower to wash off all the barbecue sauce that had gotten onto their faces and hands.

  An evening spent with his in-laws was very refreshing to Mack’s spirits. He’d explained the situation to Dr. Bob and Karol, the purpose of their mission, and his in-laws had expressed their support and offered advice on how to proceed once they made contact with the lawyers in person. Much like the morning before, Mack and KC had breakfast before getting on the road again. Their next goal was a small town called Richmond on the Indiana/Ohio state line.

  DOVER, DELAWARE

  Thursday, May 2, 2019

  SINCE THE BEST WESTERN in Murdo had been a good place to stay, Mack and KC decided to stay in the Best Western Classic Inn on the eastern outskirts of Richmond, Indiana, for the night. The hotel was close to the state line, which they hoped would make the last leg of their trip that much shorter. Again, they partook of the free breakfast before heading out.

  They arrived in Dover that evening near the end of the business day, which they had planned for. Boros, Mason, Charbonneau, & Salcedo had what KC considered an extremely helpful website, which included the names, pictures, and brief bios of all the lawyers who worked for the firm. Using that little bit of information, KC had done a deep dive into the backgrounds of several of those people, targeting the ones who worked in wills, trusts, and estate planning, the division most likely to be handling the angel donor’s business.

  In addition to their monster bounty hunting, Mac & Mac Enterprises also engaged in more traditional forms of bounty hunting. Granted the skips that they traced tended to be paranormals themselves. Using her access to tax records through her accounting work with TurboTax, KC had developed a knack for garnering a lot of private information on people. That private information, in turn, allowed her to use the Paraweb and the Dark Web to suss out the dirty little secrets those people wanted kept from the light of day.

  The offices of Boros, Mason, Charbonneau, & Salcedo were located in downtown Dover not far from the state capitol complex. In fact, a veritable plethora of lawyers of every conceivable specialty had offices within metaphorical spitting distance of the legislature.

  “Good thing your mom suggested we bring along some business wear,” Mack mused.

  Their 4Runner was parked on the street half a block from the law firm’s building. Before leaving Kansas City, Karol had put together an outfit for each of them. Karol loved clothes and fashion, something she and KC shared, and Karol loved shopping for her sons-in-law. KC’s sisters’ husbands actually got to wear what she bought for them, but with Mack and KC on the road nearly year-round, Karol stored the outfits she bought for Mack away in KC’s old room. The suits she’d sent along for him and KC were in a garment bag laid across the back seat.

  “Business suits do seem to be popular with the corporate and government crowds,” KC agreed. “We should be able to blend in.” She glanced at the time displayed on the SUV’s console touch screen. “Our girl is working late today.”

  During her research, KC had gotten an intuition to focus on one lawyer at the firm in particular: Athena Duchen. KC’s intuitions were the mildest form of her prophetic visions, so whenever she felt an intuitive inspiration, she paid attention, and those intuitions often paid off for her. In this particular case KC had identified the one and only paranormal employed by Boros, Mason, Charbonneau, & Salcedo, although the senior partners had no idea about Athena Duchen’s true nature. Delaware’s minuscule paranormal community on the Paraweb had recommended her as the go-to lawyer in Delaware purely on the basis that she was the best option of the three paranormal lawyers not working for the government in that state.

  For all of her professional adherence to ethical practices, Athena’s personal ethics were somewhat more questionable. Rather, on her personal time the most trusted paranormal lawyer in Delaware was somewhat amoral, bordering on immoral. Athena was a frequent user of a site on the Paraweb that could best be described as the paranormal version of Ashley Madison. KC had hacked into Athena’s profile and studied the other woman’s dating history. Athena described herself as “omnisexual,” and her history was proof of it. The lawyer had hooked up with both men and women. Furthermore, Athena had not limited herself to the “passes easily for human” side of the site. Among her “contacts” were ogres, satyrs, minotaurs, even a female centaur. Mack and KC had spent hours on their drive across the country trying to figure out the mechanics of that particular sexual encounter.

  Personal perversions aside, Athena Duchen was the most likely person to be handling the angel donor’s business with the Double M Ranch group home. The plan was to talk to Athena in person and persuade her with both logic and emotional appeals to arrange a meeting with the angel donor. Failing that, Athena’s diverse sexual appetites would be used as blackmail material. Although one’s sexual choices were one’s personal right, not all of Athena’s encounters were, strictly speaking, legal. Some of her lovers, like the lady centaur, actually fell under the laws against bestiality. The threat of exposure carried dire consequences for Athena legally and professionally.

  “This is creepy,” Mack stated.

  “What is?”

  “Sitting here, staking out this Duchen woman when we’ve got a legitimate meeting with her tomorrow morning.”

  “Stalking is a hazard of our profession, you know. We are professional stalkers.”

  “Yeah, but
we usually stalk, you know, monsters. Athena Duchen is not a monster.”

  “She has monstrous sexual appetites.”

  “She cannot be a happy person.”

  “Have you considered that she may not be able to help it?”

  “Oh? How so?”

  “Well, let’s take dhamphir, for example. We were created using the demonic energies of ghouls and incubi and succubi.”

  “I see where you’re going with this because incubi and succubi are sex demons.”

  “And we both know I have a very healthy libido.”

  “Of which I am pleasantly aware.”

  “And I am grateful for the fact that you can keep up with my needs.”

  “Well, it’s mostly aggressive cuddling, so...”

  “Smart ass. What I am getting at is that if a person like me didn’t have a person like you, I’m thinking monogamy would be easier said than done. Magnify my particular problems by something like, say, the blood of a fertility god, and you can get an over amped omnisexual sex drive.”

  “Fertility god?”

  “Yeah, okay, so when you’re asleep, and I don’t have any actual work to do, I might be surfing the Paraweb, satisfying my curiosity, which as we both know rivals my libido for size and energy needs.”

  “Oddly gross yet titillating. Tell me more.”

  “Yeah, so, about a decade or so ago this rumor started going around on some of the boards about this ancient fertility god that had bonded and merged with an Ard Sidhe, one of the ones left over from the Demon Wars, and the resultant... I guess you’d call it a demigod, got it into his head that he wanted to resume being a full god again or something like that. Anyway, part of the ritual of, um, re-becoming a god involved creating another demigod like himself to serve as his heavenly queen. So, he set about a one-man program of breeding himself the perfect host for a new goddess.”