The Wrath of Pan (The Inglewood Chronicles Book 2)

by Jeremy Croston

  When I got back to my apartment, I opened my fridge and found some left over pizza. The day had flown by and by the time the toaster oven dinged, I was starving. I popped open a beer and began to relax. My thoughts drifted back to Full Moon and all my friends there.

  A thought hit me! Michael Browne was staying at my old house and he’d been deeply involved in the church for years. Grabbing my phone, I dialed up the house line.

  “Victor Inglewood’s residence.”

  I started to laugh. “Michael, you don’t need to answer the phone like that.”

  “Victor!” He sounded half surprised but happy to hear my voice. “How have you been my son?”

  “I can’t complain, keeping the streets of Phoenix safe and all that.”

  From there we did the normal catching up small talk. Michael went to Billy’s grave every day and said a prayer for me. William Winchester, aka Billy the Kid, was my deputy while I was the sheriff of Full Moon. He was more than a deputy though; he was like a brother to me. He’d died during the last stand of Warren Tucker. His passing still bugged me greatly.

  “Next time you head over Michael, tell him I miss him and I hope he’s doing alright.”

  “I will my son. Now, what is it that I can do for you?”

  Part of the agreement of Michael staying at my house was that he’d act as an outside advisor for me. He was a former pastor who was very well researched. “I can’t say much, but I was curious if you are familiar with any religious artifacts or relics that might be considered dangerous?”

  “Hmmm…” He fell silent, but soon I picked up the light noise of pages turning. “There are quite a few relics I would advise you to be wary of. Can you tell me any more information that could point me in the right direction?”

  How could I word this carefully? “Something that we might find in England that would be of interest of maybe the late Warren Tucker?”

  “That maniac isn’t alive is he?”

  “No, no I didn’t mean it like that. I gave him as an example of some to think like.”

  I heard a deep breath. “Oh thank the Lord. With that context, let me see here.”

  More pages turning. I could tell Michael was deep in thought with the problem I’d brought to him. Something told me my friend the Hammer thought very much like old Warren Tucker did.

  “There is nothing that strikes me as obvious. However, I am reluctant to bring up something, but maybe it is of value.” The tone of his voice was filled with some skepticism.

  “What might that be?”

  Well,” I heard him grab another book, “this might be a fairy tale or just plain old mad ramblings, but in one of Tucker’s most recent journals, he mentions something called the Scythe of Death.”

  “You mean like the Grim Reaper?”

  “Exactly like that. As I read it, he says his master may have discovered the resting place of the Scythe; he doesn’t give a location at all, but suggests it’s not in America. The journal also says the place is blocked off by strange enchantments.”

  My mouth dropped open. “Did you say strange enchantments?”

  “If I am deciphering this correctly, then yes. It may also translate into spells, but I think enchantments are correct.” He then laughed, “But this is all nonsense, I mean next you’ll be telling me witches and warlocks are involved.”

  Michael may’ve been joking, but the facts lined up a little too nicely. “Michael, I need you to destroy that journal. Anything that talks about Death’s Scythe or strange enchantments, burn it.”

  “Victor, is everything okay?”

  “I don’t know, but I’ll certainly keep you posted. As you destroy those journals, if anything pops up that’s really weird, call me first.”

  He agreed and we parted on that note. Puzzle pieces were falling into the mystery but we were not even close to figuring out how they fit together. I left my apartment and made my way up to Liz’s office. I wondered what her take would be.

  When I got close, I heard her on the phone. That wasn’t a surprise since I have excellent hearing, but I caught my name right away.

  “Cristof, something does not feel right about this. Victor’s passport should have been here weeks ago. What is the point of having one of ours in there to speed the process along if it only ends up taking longer?”

  I leaned in closer, trying to pick up Cristof’s voice. Straining, “I know Elizabeth, this is all too suspicious. I will look farther into this and call you with a resolution.”

  “Good, I would hate to have to go myself. I am not as diplomatic as you. Now if you will excuse me, I have a very curious werewolf to deal with.”

  Busted. Oh well, what’s the point of having great powers if you don’t use them. I walked into her office as she was hanging up. “Sorry boss.”

  Her smile told me she wasn’t mad. “I take it you now know why I am so frustrated over your passport being here?”

  “I didn’t know you had people inside the government.”

  “We have been here for years!” She got out of her chair and came around the desk. After a quick kiss, “It would be quite the pain if we had to depend on humans not noticing we do not age and all that.”

  She made a fair point. “Well, with that in mind, I have some things to share.”

  “I figured as much. Normally you take a good hour or so to eat and here you are thirty minutes after we parted.”

  “I think I have some more pieces to this whole thing. I called Michael Browne on a whim.”

  Liz really liked him, so her face broke into a smile. “How is the good pastor doing these days?”

  “He’s doing well. He goes over to Billy’s for me; you know just to keep him in the loop.”

  The smile fell off. “The next time we make a trip out there, I would like to pay my respects to young William. He always made me smile.”

  I wanted to be sad, but I didn’t have time. “Have you ever heard of something called the Scythe of Death?”

  She raised an eyebrow. “It is an old tale, a legend that swirled around a long time ago. Why do you ask?”

  “Apparently,” I continued, “in one of Tucker’s journals, he mentions his master may have found it. It doesn’t say where, only that enchantments were blocking the way.”

  Like I had been, she seemed taken aback by that. “It seems our enemies have been busy. Call Reno and tell him to bring the witch here on the double. Time is no longer on our side.”

  Chapter 8

  Reno would have Rosette here in about twenty minutes. As I sat down on the couch in the office, it was Liz’s turn to tell me what she knew.

  “As you heard with my conversation with Cristof, something does not make sense with your passport. I have the nagging feeling that someone is purposely holding this up.”

  I scratched my scruff. “What do they gain by that?”

  “Someone does not want us to go to England. I think it is time to consider, and Cristof agrees, that we really do have a mole in the family.”

  I’d heard this before. Liz thought the same thing when Tucker was picking off werewolves and vampires. She was wrong then; it turned out to be a vampire long thought dead who wasn’t. Baron Forte was one tough son of a bitch.

  “I can see from your eyes Vic you think I am jumping to conclusions again.”

  “It just seems to me that vampires love a good conspiracy.” But she was right more than usual. “At least tell me what you’re thinking to get to that conclusion.”

  I didn’t get an answer right away. Instead my old as dirt vampire lady went back to her computer and a few clicks later, was printing off a bunch of stuff.

  “Don’t keep me waiting; what’re you doing?”

  She grabbed the papers off the printer. “These are email correspondences from Roderick over the past week or so. Each of them seems a bit more terse and agitated.”

  Taking a few from the top, I started reading. She was right, the first email was definitely friendly and from there, each one got a bit
pissier. The last one was really a bit rude, saying that it was a great disappointment we weren’t there yet and that his patience was running thin.

  “We told him we would help, but I would expect a vampire of Roderick’s age to understand that I have responsibilities in my home territory too. His tone suggests a lot more is happening there than we anticipated.”

  “What do you think?” I was no dumby, “Is it safe for us to go?”

  “Cristof also expressed concern in us going, but I still plan to. My brother is in need of my help and I am not going to turn away family.”

  “That settles it then, if you go I go.”

  We walked towards each other and embraced. “Thank you Vic, I knew I was right to place my trust with you.”

  Don’t judge me but it’d been awhile since we had a decent amount of alone time together so like a couple of kids, we started making out on the couch. I must’ve really lost track of time and my surroundings because I didn’t hear Reno come in. It was only when he cleared his voice that we jumped up.

  “Ambassador, Inspector, Rosette is here as you requested.” The damn vampire had a smirk so wide on his face that it nearly split it too.

  “Thank you Reno. That will be all for now.” Embarrassment was pouring out of poor Liz’s voice.

  With one last ‘you dog’ look, Reno left leaving us with the witch. Her expression was a mixture of curiousity and confusion.

  “The two of ye are dating? Is that even possible?” She pointed at us like some sort of zoo exhibit.

  “Our personal lives are not why we are here witch. I have learned new information since our last encounter and I need your assistance.”

  Rosette glared at Liz. “My name is Rosette; calling me a witch doesn’t make me wanna help ye.”

  This girl and my dad would’ve gotten along famously. I could see that red-hot Irish temper right under the surface. Liz cleared her throat, “I am sorry for the disrespect. I do not have fond memories of many witches.”

  “And my dealing with vampires hasn’t been walks in the park either. Let’s just get right to business.”

  “Right.” Liz sat down and both of us followed. “What do you know about an artifact called the Scythe of Death?”

  “Ye brought me down here for urban legends? I wouldn’t have thought someone of yer age would’ve been so hoodwinked.”

  “Let me rephrase the question. Do you know a man by the name of Warren Tucker?”

  She thought for a second on this one. “The name sounds oddly familiar, but I’m not a hundred percent sure.”

  “We have it on good authority that this Tucker and the man who he was working with may have found the location of the Scythe. In his notes, he remarks that the area is covered by enchantments – ones which would need a witch to break.”

  All the color left Rosette’s face. “Ye think that is why Divas was taking me to London?”

  My turn. “Yeah we do. If this thing is real, we need to know everything that you may have heard.”

  “I know what was on that note I gave ye guys. When Vincente found me, he gave me clear instructions to hide my true nature, including my heritage. He said his boss had a good use for someone with my talents and if I proved myself, would get the chance of a lifetime.”

  “I’d say finding Death’s Scythe would be the chance of a lifetime.”

  She turned her face up at me. “Old tales in my clan say the Scythe has the power to raise the dead, but the final resting spot was never determined. People would give their left arms for that kinda power, but I’m not one of them.”

  I frowned; I picked up a subtle scent I recognized with fear. “Are you sure that’s all you know?”

  Her eyes met mine. “Yer talents run deep wolf. I guess it doesn’t matter with Vincente dead if I tell you his contact in London.”

  Both Liz and I leaned in. I nodded for her to continue. “A man named Judas was to pick us up at the airport. Before we met with this T.H.J., someone going by the name of Pan was to test my abilities. I swear to ye, that’s all I know.”

  This time I believed her. Unfortunately for us, this connected our current problems back to the situation that we were called upon to help with a few months ago. Vincente Divas and Peter Pan were connected, but we had no idea how.

  Liz picked up the intercom. “Reno, you may come in and escort Rosette to one of the downstairs apartments for the evening.”

  “Wait, you’re going to kick me out without telling me what’s going on?”

  Liz stood up. “Miss O’Byrne, you have given us all we need. If I feel that you need more information, I will give it to you. Until then, this is classified and I do not trust you fully.”

  Rosette was about to protest, but Reno walked in. Seeing that she was not in a winning situation, she stormed out of the room. Reno, the poor guy, gave chase.

  Back to just being the two of us in her office, Liz fell back into her seat. “I have a feeling we are being played.”

  “By who though?”

  She left my question hang. If she had any idea, she wasn’t about to share it, at least not yet. The only thing to do from here was to get my passport situation straightened out so we could jump from the frying pan into the fryer. Before all this, I wasn’t really looking forward to my first international trip. Now, I just hoped we’d survive whatever hell was waiting for us over there.

  Chapter 9

  **Warren Tucker**

  Pan’s hideout was below London, in tunnels even deeper than the wretched sewer system this city had. Time didn’t mean as much down here, but if I were to guess, a few weeks have passed since my joining the daemon army. I had a better control over my bloodlust, but every few nights, I had to go out and hunt.

  Pan and his Lost Boys are ruthless. In my human life, I’d thought I’d seen the worst that the shadows had offered, but I was wrong. Even their names were a complete blasphemy; Peter Pan with Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. They took pleasure in my discomfort at their chosen pseudo names.

  After Pan, the worst was there werewolf he’d found. I don’t know his real name, but soon after his arrival he took the name Judas. That told me he was a traitor, to someone anyway, and his personality did nothing to dispel that. Where we fed on the blood of our victims, Judas fed on the flesh.

  “Tucker, get out here! Pan needs the translations to this book!”

  I had no idea which Boy called me, but I knew my role. My knowledge of Latin was necessary and the main reason I had been brought into this world. “Calm down, I’m coming.”

  I left my den and walked out into the common area. Two of the Boys were sitting on the couch, both with bloodlust and questionable sanity across their face. “It’s about time Tucker. We’d hate to tell Pan that you were lagging behind.”

  “That will not be necessary. Now quiet and leave me to my work.”

  With one last look of disdain, the two of them left. I turned to the page I had left off and continued my translation. The text was most interesting, telling me of a location of a very powerful artifact and what needed to be done to access it. As I wrote my translations down, I began to wonder about the possibilities if Pan and his mysterious benefactor got their hands on it.

  The one thing that stumped me was the name of this artifact. I believe Pan knew the name, but where the rest of the script was in Latin, I believe the artifact’s name was in ancient Greek. Before I made any decisions, I needed to know what I was dealing with.

  **Vic**

  Airports are not my favorite place. First, I had no weapons on me, everything securely packed in my luggage. Hell, it took Liz’s vampire charm to convince the men there was nothing odd about our bags.

  Second, every sense I had was overwhelmed. The smells, noises, and even the taste in the air were awful. I had to beg Liz to go over to a secluded area near our gate to get away from it all.

  “Will you be okay dear?”

  The concern in her voice was appreciated, but even Liz couldn’t understand what I was going th
rough. “Yeah, just pretend I’m seasick or something. I think I’d feel better if I puked.”

  She gave me a look. “I do not think you would do well in the bathroom. If you think it is bad out here, trust me that you do not want to go in there.”

  I nodded and closed my eyes. Trying to use my meditation and the lessons my granddad taught me, I’d survive until the flight.

  By the time I’d calmed myself down, we were getting the go ahead to start boarding. Since we were traveling first class, Liz and I were in the second group to board after the mothers and folks in wheelchairs. Taking my seat, I breathed in relief that the plane wasn’t as overwhelming as the terminal.

  Liz plopped down beside me. “I do just love a good flight.”

  “I’m glad one of us does. The fact we got to fly from here to New York and then do this all over again to London is a bit much. I think I overestimated how tough I’d be about all this.”

  She put her hand on mine. “It will not be so bad, just try to sit back and relax.”

  I took her advice and did my best. She’s one tough girl because I did my best to squeeze her hand into pieces during the takeoff and she just smiled. Once we were in the air and at the cruising altitude, I started to relax.

  By the time we got to New York, my anxiety had passed. Between the free food and beers the flight attendants kept bringing me, I was actually kinda upset I hadn’t flown before.

  Liz was amused with my antics. “Most flights are not like this. This only happens in first class.”

  “Well that sucks because something tells me my inspector’s salary wouldn’t be affording this.”

  “Come now, we do not have time to dally. We must catch our connecting flight.”

  Fortunately for me, the airport in New York was huge and we didn’t have time to stay in one place for long to get overwhelmed by everything. In fact, it was all I could do to keep up with the little vampire in five inch heels. When we got to our terminal, first class was already boarding.

  I dropped to my seat, exhausted from the sprint. “Damn, that was pretty intense.”