by Mac Flynn
He raised an eyebrow. "What kind of something?"
My eyes slid up to him and narrowed. "Not the kind I'm going to tell you about."
"Actually, I might have that something for you." He reached beneath the bar and I readied myself for a gun, sword, or at this point, maybe even a wand. Instead, he pulled out an envelope and held it out to me. "Before Quinn left last time he told me to give this to somebody who was asking for him. He had some info for them. I figure that's you."
I took the envelope and opened the flap. Inside was a small slip of folded paper, and I pulled out the paper and read the contents.
If you want me and what I have then you'd better get down to where this all started. I'll be inside.
It was signed Quinn. My eyes flickered up to the bartender and I held the note out to him.
"Any idea what this means?" I asked him.
He took the paper, read the contents, and shook his head. "No idea," he told me as he passed the note back to me. "You have any idea?"
I shook my head and pocketed the envelope and note. "Nope, but it's the only thing I've got." I slipped off the stool and walked towards the door.
"Hey," Bill called to me. I paused at the door and turned to him. "What's really happening to you? You look like a bearded lady I saw a long time ago at the circus."
I pursed my lips and looked away. "You could say I'm going through a change."
CHAPTER 22
I slipped out the door and out onto the dark street. In my pocket was a mystery and on my body was the evidence of my freakish curse. I held up my hands and frowned. They were long, pointed, and harrier than any trucker I'd arrested.
"You've got to get this under control. . ." I murmured to myself.
That was easier said than done considering I had no idea how to start.
I sighed and dropped my hands. "Might as well start at the beginning," I told myself.
The beginning meant how I came to get this hairy. Sex, or at least sexy thoughts. I looked around the neighborhood and spotted an alley a couple of buildings down. I hurried to the opening and slipped inside. The alley was a dingy, slimy cesspool of a failing city drainage system complete with overturned garbage cans, standing water that resembled something from a nuclear waste facility plant, and enough rats to overrun a small preschool. It was filthy. It was smelly. It was perfect.
I wasn't a rocket scientist, but I did know about cause and effect. I figured the cause of my hairy consequence was the teenager hormones that Shadow got going inside me. If I wanted to reverse the affects I'd need to do the opposite. That meant go into the vilest cesspool the city had to offer and calm down my teenager hormones. Since city hall was closed at that hour I'd have to make do with an alley.
I took a seat on an overturned garbage can and took a deep breath. The stink of the place was worse than I expected. I choked and slapped my hand over my mouth and nose. The place wreaked like the city morgue after a gang shootout.
"Gang. . ." I muttered.
That brought back memories, like about all that talk about Shadow being some sort of a vigilante keeping another gang at bay. I snorted. He didn't seem like the good-guy type, my rescue aside. He'd only done that so he could keep porking me. Well, our porking days were over. He'd have to find some other girl to satiate that beast inside him. He could take her in his strong arms and press her against his hard, smooth chest. They would lock lips in a passionate kiss and their bodies would rub against each other. Their lust would to new heights and-
"Damn it," I growled. I held out my hands and saw they were sharper and longer than before.
This wasn't working. I pounded my fists into the parts of the trashcan on either side of me. My hands buried themselves a few inches into the tin can. I frowned and yanked on them. Neither of them pulled out of the indents. I gave a harder tug, but no going. Apparently I had more strength when I was mad than when I wasn't.
That made me mad.
I jumped to my feet and dragged the can behind me. The alley was filled with gray and black colors, but all I saw was red. I charged headlong across the five yards to the opposite alley wall and at the last minute spun around. The garbage can made a satisfying crunch sound as I slammed it between the brick and my back. I pulled away from the wall and my hands slid free. The garbage can dropped to the ground, and I turned and gave it a good kick for measure. The damn thing must have grown some sentience with that collision because it knocked off the wall and flew back at me. It hit me in the head. The world spun around until I dropped to my knees onto the grimy ground. I clutched my head and tried to shake it off. I hadn't felt this bad since I was attacked in that alley by those-
My head snapped up and my eyes widened. My hands fumbled in my pocket and I pulled out the note. I opened the paper and read the message.
"Where this all started. . ." I repeated aloud. I glanced over the dank alley. This whole mess started in an alley.
I stuffed the note in my pocket and stood. I had a club to visit.
Unfortunately, it wasn't easy getting to the Wolf's Den on foot. Every streetlight was my worst enemy and every car a potential underling of that rival gang Shadow told me about. I'd met my quota of kidnapping for my lifetime and didn't want to exceed my limit, or my luck. For once my little fur problem was a blessing. I was a heck of a lot faster than usual and my hearing and nose were stronger than ever. I picked up on every approaching vehicle, chattering teenager, and leaky faucet. Every smell had the potential to be a blessing or a curse.
I reached the Wolf's Den street and pulled my sheet close to my face. The place was hopping like the double-homicide never happened. That was the way of the big city. Cars drove back and forth blaring their horns. Their drivers gave each other the one-fingered salute and there was a swear in reply. The flashing red lights of the district hurt my eyes. There was a line out the door and near the opening to the infamous alley. That was my target. I slunk across the road and into the dark alley.
I kept against the wall and shuffled along the rough brick until I reached the intersection. The light over the door to my left revealed that the place was empty. I gave a sniff with my powerful new nose. No danger there except for the stink of a garbage dump. I crept up to the door and tried it. Locked. That would've been inconvenient if I didn't have my new-found strength. I grasped the knob and turned it hard. The lock in the knob cracked, but the door didn't swing open like it should have. There was a gap between the door and the frame, and I peeked into it. There was stupid chain on the other side. I tried to reach my fingers through the gap, but it was a no go.
I looked around for a solution to my problem and my eyes fell on nothing. This meant that I'd have to do it the old-fashioned way. I took a step back and slammed my foot into the door. The door flew open and hit the inner wall with a loud bang. I rushed forward and peeked my head inside. There wasn't a sign of anybody, but I didn't expect it to stay that way. I slipped inside and found myself in a rear hallway. The sound of pulsing music came to my sensitive ears, but I didn't have time to complain or write them a noise citation.
The hallway led straight ahead and to the right. I strode ahead towards the bombastic music. The only lights came from some sickly red ones high up on the walls and spaced at intervals of ten feet. The walls and floor were made of concrete and the few doors I saw were heavy and wooden.
I heard a noise ahead of me and jumped towards the nearest door on my left. I slipped inside just as I saw a pair of shadows rush down the hallway towards the back door. Their feet clamored past me and echoed down the passage. I breathed a sigh of relief and leaned my back against the door. That's when I noticed the room in which my I'd found refuge.
The room was about twenty by twenty feet wide and long. There was only a chair and a small wooden table to my left. To my right and at the back of the room was a cage. The bars reached from the floor to the ceiling, and took up half the room. Inside the space was the worst nightmare an animal control officer could dream of.
The
thing behind the bars was a snarling, drooling beast. Everything was covered in fur. Its face was stretched into a snout and had claws, but most of it was human, and male. It had a pair of arms and legs, and wore the tattered remains of street clothes. Its blue eyes stared back at me with interest.
"Who are you?" it croaked out.
"I'm Detective Selena," I replied. I pushed off from the door and carefully stepped towards the creature. "What are you?"
"A slave and prisoner here," the beast growled. It came up and wrapped its hands around the bars. "I'm kept here against my will for the entertainment of the psychopath who owns this joint."
"You mean Shadow?" I guessed.
One of his hairy eyebrows lifted. "You know about him?" the thing asked me.
I nodded. "Unfortunately. So he's the one who put you in here? Why?"
The creature dropped its hands from the bars and looked at its palms. "They force me to go through terrible experiments and, when I can't take it anymore they'll put me in the ring and make me fight to the death."
I stopped two feet from the bars and looked over the creature. "You're a werewolf, aren't you?" I guessed
The creature dropped his hands and nodded. "Yeah, that's what I am. They turned me into this because they're sick fucks." The creature tilted his head to one side and studied me. "You know, it's been a long time since I saw a normal person and it's kind of dark in here. Do you think you could come a little closer?"
I looked at the short distance between me and him, and raised an eyebrow. His claws were nature's way of telling me to stay away. "I'm not as normal as you think I am," I told him.
"You're more normal than those nuts those that keep me here," the creature insisted. He pressed his body against the bars and looked me over. "Please?
I pursed my lips, but took a step forward so I was only a foot from the bars. The creature was so fast that I barely had time to jump back before his arm reached through the bars and his sharp claws swiped at me. I stumbled out of his reach and his cackle echoed around the concrete room.
"Almost gotcha!" the fiend yelled at me. He gave another eerie, high-pitched cackle that hurt my ears. "You really fell for all that stupid shit, didn't you?
I narrowed my eyes at the creature. "What the hell's wrong with you? I only want to help you."
The werewolf pressed itself against the bars and pawed at me. "You can help me by giving me your arm. I just want a little taste of you. Just a bite," the thing pleaded.
I looked over its twisted face and bright, wild eyes. "You're in here because you're the one who's psychotic, aren't you?" I asked him.
The beast grasped the bars and happily nodded his head. "Yep. They don't like me out because I don't mind the taste of humans." His long tongue flicked out and he licked his lips. "Nothing's tastier than a fried human." I backed up to the door and fumbled for the knob. His face fell and contorted into a snarl. "Where the hell do you think you're going? I'm not done with you."
"Too bad," I replied.
I slipped through the door and out into the red-hued hallway. There wasn't any sign of trouble. I shut the door behind me and leaned my back against the wall opposite the door. I clutched my head in my hands. My hand trembled and my eyes glanced down at my hand by my side. My fingers were still long and claw-like. They looked a lot like the ones that monster inside the cell sported. I wondered if I'd end up like that. Maybe that's all Shadow wanted me for, to be used until it drove me insane.
I dropped my hand and shook my head. Whatever he wanted me for I wasn't going to go quietly, and definitely not without some answers. I proceeded down the hallway on my mission to find my informant, ignoring some side halls to my right and doors on either side of me. I didn't want to know what was behind them. The music grew louder, and for once I was happy to hear people shouting and cursing at each other. After a few turns I reached another door. Beyond that door was the Wolf's Den club.
CHAPTER 23
The Wolf's Den was one gigantic dance floor with a stage at the far corner of the room. The line outside hadn't been lying The place was as crowded as a free beer night at a bar. People gyrated against each other to the beat of the painfully loud music. Their twisting bodies were like dark shadows on a night with a full moon. The room was lit by flashing strobe lights that hung twenty feet above the floor.
The outer walls of the room were filled with booths. I scanned them for my target and found him in the corner closest to me. Quinn sat alone in the darkest booth. I grasped my sheet tightly in my hand and wound my way through the tightly packed crowd. In a few moments I slipped into the plush seat opposite him.
"Quinn," I whispered.
"Good evening, detective. Trying out a new look?" he asked me.
"What the hell do you mean meeting me here?" I questioned him.
He grinned and shrugged. "I thought you'd be glad to meet at a familiar place," he countered.
I glanced around the room and pursed my lips together. "Anywhere but here. . ." I mumbled.
Quinn leaned forward and cradled his ever-present phone in one hand. "So what took you, anyway?"
"You're not an easy guy to find," I pointed out.
"It's good policy in my business to be hard to find," he countered.
"Not for your clients, and speaking of not being easy to find, did you know anything about that trap back at the bar?" I questioned him.
He frowned and tapped on the screen of his phone. I noticed he scrolled through pictures. They were of the interior of the Rusty Knife and taken at the time of my attack. "I'd heard rumors the place was getting hot, so I got out before I got burned."
"Hot for me?" I guessed.
"It was you they wanted, but they might've been glad to get a hold of me," Quinn admitted.
I raised an eyebrow. "Why you?"
"Let's just say I've had some business with them in the past and they were on the losing side," he replied.
"Speaking of business, what have you got for me?" I asked him.
He rummaged in his worn shirt and pulled out a disk. "This. It's everything I could find on that hair sample you sent me." I reached out for it, but he pulled it back. "First, you give me what I want."
"The location of the moonstone?" I guessed.
He shook his head. "No, my price has changed. What I want is for you to do a little job for me."
I frowned. "What kind of job?"
He pulled out an envelope and slid it over to me. "This kind."
I picked up the envelope and pulled out a couple of pieces of paper with a photo. The black-and-white photo showed a man of about forty with dark hair. He wore a dark suit and was flanked by two rough-looking guys on either side of him. I tossed down the photo.
"Who the hell is this?" I asked him.
"He goes by the name of Night," Quinn told me
I snorted. "Just what I need. Another mystery-man pretending to be darkness."
"This mystery man isn't like Shadow. He wouldn't bother with a detective," Quinn countered.
My eyes narrowed. "How do you know about Shadow? I never told you about him."
He grinned and waved the disk that was still in his hand. "I know a lot about him, but if you want to know more than you'll have to take the case."
I shuffled through the papers. "I don't even know what you want me to do. This is just a bunch of specs for a house."
"Look on the last page. There's a certain something in that house I want," he told me.
I flipped to the last page where there was a sketch of a vial. "Seriously? You want me to get into this guy's house and steal something?"
"No, I want you to ingratiate yourself with the owner and get that vial," he corrected me. "It's kept in his study on one of the shelves."
"That sounds pretty stupid," I commented.
"He's not a man to worry about burglars," Quinn returned.
I nodded the photo of the suit. "And this Night guy's the owner?" I guessed.
"Astute as ever, detective. He's holding a
party tomorrow night. It's an invitation-only event, and mine got lost in the mail," he explained.
I snorted. "So did mine."
He grinned and shook his head. "No, you're just the type they would let in, but if you have any trouble at the door you can always find a nice second-floor window to slip through."
I stuffed the paperwork back into the envelope and tossed it at him. "No-go. I'm not ruining the rest of my life just to grab a vial for you. I've got enough problems as it is." I pulled back my sleeve and showed him my hair hand.
Quinn scanned my hand and frowned. "You're going to have to deal with that before the party."
"This isn't some quick-grow hair problem, you asshole," I growled as I covered my hand. I nodded at the disk. "I've got some sort of curse on me and the only solution to my problem is on that disk."
"You'll have to take care of that problem before tomorrow night," he agreed as he stuffed the disk back into his suit. "But you're not getting the info on this disk before I get my-"
I whipped my hand out and snatched his wrist of the hand that held the disk. "Listen, Quinn. I've had a hell of a day and I'm not in the-"
"Watch yourself," he warned me in a low voice. His eyes flickered to his left, and I followed where he looked.
A group of suited men congregated near the front door. They wore dark glasses and scanned the tables and dance floor. Their ears sported small receivers and microphones.
"How are they?" I whispered to Quinn.
"Trouble. Let's move," he ordered me.
He grabbed my wrist and pulled me to my feet. My cloak slipped off my head and a girl nearby turned to me. Her eyes widened and she opened her mouth. The woman's piercing scream drilled into my head. I wanted to knock off her head to knock off that screaming. It wasn't like she was using it.
The woman's stupid screaming caught the attention of the dark men at the door. Their sunglasses-covered eyes fell on us and they dove into the crowd towards us.