Grib shrugged. "No idea. It's had that name for decades. Owners have changed, but kept the name. They say it's iconic. They want to get slumming hipsters. But I don't think any amount of Pabst Blue Ribbon is going to attract hipsters there. Especially now that the Rebels are pretty much calling it home."
"When are they typically at it?" said Abby, making a note of the bar name.
"When they're not causing trouble," said Grib. "Otherwise that's their home away from home. I hope the owner and bartender are friends of theirs. If not... well, I guess they're treading lightly in their own bar and not pissing any of the Rebels off."
"So if we go see the Rebels, what do we need to know?" said Dane. "Secrets? Tricks? Insider info?"
Shelley shrugged. "Don't piss them off? They're thugs, as I said. They'll get off on being more powerful than you, and if you give them a reason to doubt that they are or that you don't believe it, they'll want to throw their weight around. Think typical male power fantasies, but even the women that are part of the Rebels are into that."
"Well, I was thinking less psychological profile and more how do I deal with them when they get all angry and hairy?" said Dane.
"Don't piss them off?" said Grib. "That's what she's saying."
"No, I mean, when they get really hairy," said Dane. "All furry - y'know, claws and teeth!"
Grib and Shelley furrowed their brows. "Just what are you talking about?"
"Interesting!" said Dane, seeing their expressions. "They hide that secret well!"
"What secret?" said Grib.
"Oh, it's not important," said Dane. "We'll manage!"
Grib looked at Abby. "Is this for one of your special investigations?"
Abby smiled. "Sure, let's go with that. This is an Authentic Avalon project."
Grib seemed relieved and relaxed. "Then I look forward to seeing the report on this and whatever secret the Rebels have."
"Is there anything else you can tell us that would help?" said Dane.
"Talk to the bartender first," said Shelley. "Whether he's a friend of the Rebels or is just scared of them, that might be a better way to get an introduction or the lay of the land. I know some bikers don't like randoms just walking up to them and talking. If the bartender says they're okay, that's different."
"Okay, got it!" said Dane. "Time to go meet some Rebels, Abby!"
"Here's my phone number," said Douglas. "If you need help, give me a call. Seriously, these are not good people. I'd go with you, but I think me going would immediately set them off."
"You'd definitely antagonize them," said Shelley with a nod. "If not your intimidating size, our club patch would annoy them. They scoff at what we do the same way we talk crap on what they do."
Dane and Abby put Douglas's number into their phones. "Even if I don't need your help on this one, perhaps you could help me another time," said Dane.
Abby and Dane said their goodbyes then walked to the front of Phil's. Using an app on her phone, Abby put in a request for one of Avalon's famous yellow cabs.
"It says about five minutes wait," said Abby. "So other than the location, did we learn anything of note?"
"We learned that Mr. Douglas is doing fantastically well!" said Dane.
"I meant about the case," said Abby.
"We know that the Rebel's secret werewolfism isn't a well known thing," said Dane.
"Which is strange, since they did it in public at Jaya's," said Abby. "If they are so gossipy, why hasn't anyone at any of the other clubs heard anything?"
"That's not altogether true," said a voice from behind them. They turned and saw Nachos, who was standing nervously on the steps, trying to block his visibility from the restaurant with the stair railing. "A few of us... not many, but a few know they're monsters."
"Werewolves?" said Dane.
Nachos shrugged. "Sure, I guess. We just know they're not human and really dangerous. Anyone who has gotten into a fight with them in private has learned that. But most who have tangled with them in private are dead. The Rebels cover that secret well. Those of us who have learned it don't tell anyone, not even our friends. We don't want to be silenced either."
"They'd do that?" said Abby. "Just kill you for knowing?"
"They've killed for less," said Nachos with a shrug. "If half of their boasting when they thought no one could hear was true, they're more dangerous than anyone thinks."
"That's terrible!" said Abby. "Are we sure we want to do this?"
"You've gotten the warnings from the others, but here's mine," said Nachos. "I believe their nature is a secret, one they'll kill to keep. I wouldn't mention it. But if they mention it or show you, run. Just run."
"Maybe we can talk them out of it," said Dane.
Nachos shook his head, but Abby realized what he meant. "No, Dane. He's saying that if they transform or tell us their secret, they're intending to kill us. To keep their secret."
"Fantastic!" said Dane. "I've been waiting for this to get interesting!"
Silver
Despite Dane's excitement, Abby convinced him that they should follow up with their consultations on werewolves before actually trying to meet with the violent beasts. If they got into a dangerous situation, knowing how to fight werewolves would of course help; they didn't seem the sort of creature you fast talk, as much of Dane would try to. Abby knew Dane would be willing to head into the lion's den even if they learned nothing at all, so she continually voiced her concerns and he finally relented. He had to admit that despite the legion of weird experiences he had, he had never encountered werewolves and that deserved some begrudging patience.
The first stop was Alastair's in Old Avalon. A loft that doubled as his home and his business office, it was Alastair's inner sanctum, one he guarded well. When Dane and Abby knocked on the door, there was a long pause before there was any answer. Dane suspected that Alastair was looking through the peephole and perhaps consulting with some strange artifact to confirm their identities. Or not. Maybe Alastair was just in the bathroom.
The door finally opened, but the chain was still hooked on the door. Alastair's eyes peered out of the gap.
"Do we have to do this every time?" said Dane.
Without a word, the door closed, the chain was unlatched, and then it reopened to let them in. The inside of the loft was full of bookcases, boxes, and furniture more appropriate to a Victorian study. The bookcases contained not only old books but a variety of occult items such as skulls, candles, and sinister looking antiques. Abby looked around for Alastair's supernatural cat, but did not see it. No matter how often she visited, she would never be comfortable in this loft. Her skin crawled when she recalled her first visit and saw the shadowy cat appear and fasten onto Alastair's throat to suck his blood. She didn't want to be anywhere near that cat and the thought of it lurking around unnerved her.
While Abby searched for the offending cat, Dane gravitated toward a large crate that had been left not far from the door. The wide wooden top had already been pried off by a nearby crowbar and packing materials spilled out of it. Due to the sheer amount of packing materials, the contents were not obvious, so Dane stretched out a hand to dig through the crate.
Before Dane's hand reached the box, Alastair was in front of him. "That's private," said the occultist with a forced smile, an attempt to diffuse a possible confrontation. Dane got a better look at his gloomy ally. Pale features from having spent far too long inside, a serious set to the jaw, and a frown to his thin lipped face. His brown hair was conservative but impeccably styled close to his scalp, only a few touches of gray so far. Alastair was dressed in a dark vest and tie, something he was wearing before he even knew he would have visitors.
"Come, let's sit down and you can tell me what you want of me," he said as he lead them over to his desk. Dane took a seat on the leather couch, while Abby, still on edge looking for the cat, sat down nervously next to him. As he did almost every time, Alastair relaxed once his massive desk was in between them. He folded his hands in front of him. "So,"
said Alastair, prompting the others to start conversation.
"Werewolves," said Dane with no explanation.
"Lycanthropes," responded Alastair coyly.
"Wolf men," said Dane with a shrug.
"Loup garou," said Alastair slowly.
"Okay, I'm out of synonyms," said Dane. "What can you tell me about them?"
"There's a fair amount of lore and even a greater amount of fiction," said Alastair with a dismissive wave of his hand. "I could probably write a book of what I gleaned from other books on the supposed details of werewolves. And not one bit of it could be true. But I also know that you would interrupt me before I even got a minute into my explanation, so I'll not waste my words."
"Supposed details? So you have not dealt with any werewolves?"
"No," said Alastair. "I know of no lore or worthwhile reports of werewolves in the New Avalon area, though perhaps Linda knows of something that has escaped my notice. Of course there are eyewitness accounts in the rest of the country, but so are there for Bigfoot sightings. My contacts have suggested something like werewolves near Ravenfall, but I take all news from that strange town with a grain of salt, so who knows?"
Dane nodded. "I get that. Lots of things could fall under 'furry and dangerous'. How would anyone know if that's really a werewolf?"
"Exactly. So while there's much said, I have no experience nor could I really tell you how correct it is. I have more precise information on demons. Anything I could tell you about lycanthropes is just lore - unverified and oft repeated. Who knows how true it is? Discussion is pointless. I suggest we not waste anymore time."
"I'm okay with pointless. What does the lore say?" said Dane.
Alastair sighed, his serious expression softening into boredom. He took a longing look past Dane and Abby at the half opened crate at the door before focusing on them again. "Have you seen a werewolf movie? Even I have seen one or two in my day. You probably know the major points continually regurgitated about lycanthropes. Those match the lore rather well. Use silver for lethal effect. Whether cursed or infected, they are beholden to the phases of the moon. These poor souls often lack self discipline due to the nature of their malady, sometimes to the point of being responsible for murderous rampages. Some believe that the werewolf myth comes from early serial killers, since before artificial lighting the full moon was the only time they could hunt other men. When together, lycanthropes form pack hierarchies, much like the canines they resemble." Alastair shrugged. "As you can tell, there's nothing shocking or original in the movies or the lore. Of course there are some accounts with outlying details that differ from the rest, but there's no real reason to suggest those are better when they contradict other lore elements. If I had to make a purchase of an occult item based on this information, I would back out and save my money."
"Nothing of use, then," said Dane. "I guess when this is all over I'll be able to tell you what's true."
"And I'll appreciate that courtesy," said Alastair. "But I believe I'm not much help for you now. Without knowing exactly what you need to find out, all we have is just a surplus of unfounded information."
"Jaya was attacked by werewolves. I'm probably going to deal with more of them."
"I hope the young lady is okay," said Alastair with genuine concern. His phrasing was odd, since he wasn't really that much older than Jaya. He simply acted like a man from some other era.
"She's fine, just banged up," said Dane. The truth was she was a little more wounded than that, but Dane often failed to convey the gravity of certain things.
"That's good to hear," said Alastair. "I will say that according to the conventional lore, she will probably recover without issue. Unless she was bitten, she is unlikely to contract the disease. If that was what you were wondering."
Dane paled. "I hadn't even thought about that. But she was only slashed! So she should be okay, right?"
"How did you not think of that?" said Abby. "That's like the most obvious things in movies. It's like not knowing a zombie bite is bad!"
"Assuming the veracity of the most common lore, a simple cut would not cause an infection or curse," said Alastair. "Other than that, I have little advice in hunting such beasts. Arm yourself with silver weapons. That seems universal advice for hurting them, though in some lore that's unnecessary and regular weapons are effective. In some accounts silver hurts them simply on touch, in others the aversion only occurs when it pierces their skin. Very old myths say wolfsbane helps... in conflicting ways. Generally as a ward against them, though."
"What is wolfsbane?" said Abby "I remember seeing it in the movies, but other than the fact that bad to wolf is right there in the name, I never knew what it was." Her voice slowed to a halt at the end of the sentence as she turned her head. She had heard something to her left. Was it the cat?
"It's a plant," said Alastair, ignoring Abby's distraction. "Also a flower and an herb, to be technically correct. It has uses in alchemical mixtures and witchcraft. I don't have any on hand, if you're wondering. Wong might - I'm never sure how extensive and far reaching his stock is. If not, I know a delightful young witch in Southend who could supply you."
"But we don't know what, if anything, it does to werewolves?" asked Abby.
"Correct," said Alastair.
"I'm going to pass then," said Dane. "As much as we'd like an edge, we're not going off on a wild goose chase for something we're not even sure helps us."
"So instead we have nothing," noted Abby, not even bothering to bring up the irony of Dane talking about wild goose chases.
"Well, I had hoped to learn something useful," said Dane. "But I've worked with less! I often don't know what I need until right when I need it."
"Often? That's almost always," said Abby. "But maybe we want to grab silver daggers from... I don't know, a Silver Dagger Supply Store."
"They're more intended for ritual purposes, but I do have some knives made of actual silver on hand..." suggested Alastair. "My price would be fair. They're not just plated silver as you might find in some cheap thrift store or the like."
Dane shook his head. "At this point, I just want something as an emergency so we could neutralize them. I have no reason to resort to lethal or dangerous force, whether with silver or something else. As always, I'd prefer to wait until mortal peril is unavoidable before I start trying to stab the strange and wonderful mysteries of the world we live in."
"An admirable sentiment, but you forget that some of those mysteries would just as easily stab or bite you," said Alastair. "This world has a darkness underneath it that is dangerous for the unprepared."
"Point taken," said Dane, "but ignored! We'll get back to you on those daggers if I have a more specific need or if I need you to tell me what the lore says on something a little more specific."
"I wouldn't mind having a silver dagger just in case..." said Abby, but no notice was taken of her words.
"One last thing," said Dane. "What do you know about the Thousand Hands of Fire?"
Alastair didn't answer immediately. Instead he drummed his fingers on the desk for a moment before answering. "I'm ashamed to say that the name doesn't ring a bell. I've heard extravagant names like it and I might have heard it mentioned once, but I have not a single thought in my head as to its nature. It definitely sounds occult, but it also sounds like it could be nearly anything. So since you have me at an disadvantage, you can answer my own question in return. What is it?"
"It's an Eastern organization, Chinese, I think, so more of Wong's thing, really. I just thought you might know something, since it is kind of occult."
"Now I am intrigued," said Alastair with genuine interest. "While the Eastern mysteries have always felt closed to me, I would be remiss if I did not keep myself informed of their own occult organizations. If you give me some time, I shall learn what I can."
Dane waved him off. "Don't worry about it. It's a Wong thing. Maybe he doesn't want you looking there."
"True, but other people's restrictions
have never stopped me in the pursuit of knowledge," said Alastair in a casually ominous tone he seemed to have perfected over the years.
"And sometimes that worries me about you," said Dane. "But that's all we wanted to ask. We'll get back to you if we have more specific werewolf questions. Are you actually going to answer the phone if we call, or do we have to haul our butts back here just to ask you one question?"
Alastair looked over to his phone. It was an old landline phone that thankfully wasn't rotary. It looked older than it did due to a retro red color and design. Dane couldn't tell if it was anxiety or revulsion on his face when Alastair looked at the device.
"Perhaps," said Alastair finally.
Abby rolled her eyes. "You should join our century at some point."
Alastair gave a wan smile. "Now why would I do that? The previous ones were far more interesting."
"I guess we'll be going then," said Dane while getting out of his chair.
"There is... perhaps one other thing," said Alastair.
"Oh?" said Dane.
Alastair rung his hands for a moment, unsure what to say. "It might be nothing. Perhaps not even of note. But you had said you wanted me to let you know, even if it is on the... computer."
"What is it?" said Dane.
"The Living in Qlip blog is active again," said Alastair.
Dane paused for a moment, Abby noticing a pensive frown cross his face. "What does it say?" he said finally.
"Nothing of note, in my opinion," said Alastair. "At this moment, just occult theory. No personal details, no specifics of life itself. Just theory, as one might find in a book on the subject. Beyond the occult topic, it could be anyone's writing. It may even be copied out of a book. It's not provocative in any way. Had it been any other blog, I would have just ignored it. I just thought that since you wanted to know..."
Dane nodded. "Thanks for telling me. Of course, this is between us. Definitely do not tell her."
Alastair nodded in agreement. "Of course, I have no reason to, but I will be sure not to."
"Thanks," said Dane. "Let's go, Abby."
Burning Monday: (Dane Monday 2) Page 11