The Frenzy War

by Gregory Lamberson

  “You track them down, then give me their location. I’ll pass it on to Karol, who can feed it to someone we can trust.”

  “A human, you mean? You’re talking about violating one of our key laws.”

  “A human we can use, then.”

  Raphael gave him a hard look. “You’re playing a dangerous game. I won’t be a part of it.”

  Gabriel felt cornered. “You’ll do as I say. I’m the leader of the pack.”

  Raphael shook his head. “I can’t. I have to do what I think is right for the pack. I’m sorry. Me and my crew will take care of the Torquemadans.”

  “If you disobey me, there will be repercussions.”

  “So be it.”

  Stung by the betrayal, Gabriel watched Raphael leave. Then he turned to Elias, who sat looking at him. “Go with him. He’ll need your counsel.”

  Elias rose. “I’ll get my things.”

  As the Greek werewolf climbed the stairs, Gabriel slid onto the sofa. With Melissa and the boys out of the country, Arick watching after them, and now Raphael dissenting, he felt utterly alone.

  Awakening to the grinding sound of the metal door opening, Rhonda sat upright, raising both knees and covering her breasts with her arms. The stub of her right arm ached, and she instinctively moved her elbow joint.

  My arm is growing back, she thought. But would her hand grow back fully developed, with working fingers?

  A figure entered the cell, someone she had not seen before: a short female with shoulder-length black hair. Her neck and face were wrapped in bandages, with openings for her eyes and mouth. She wore a black combat outfit and brandished a sword. If she hadn’t felt in such danger, Rhonda might have laughed. For now, the woman aimed the tip of her sword at the floor.

  “Stand up, you bitch,” she said in a hoarse voice.

  Rhonda obeyed, straw falling from her flesh. She did not bother to cover her private parts, and the woman looked her over from head to toe. Rhonda saw Asian eyes between the bandages.

  The woman raised the tip of her sword at Rhonda like an extension of her arm. With her free hand, she pointed at her face. “One of your kind did this to me. One of you killed Myles.”

  “Good,” Rhonda said in an even tone. “You’ll all be dead before this is over.”

  “We’re prepared to die. Are you?” The woman took a step to her left.

  Rhonda took a slight step back. “Yes. Just not now.”

  The woman continued moving to her left, and Rhonda stepped back, keeping her movements subtle.

  Come a little closer, she thought.

  “What makes you think you have any say in the matter? You’re our prisoner, nothing but a chained animal.”

  “And what are you, except disfigured for life? I bet whoever tore your face off thought it tasted good going down.”

  The woman drew her sword into swinging position. “Maybe I’ll wear yours after I flay you alive.”

  Inching away, Rhonda threw back her shoulders. “I think I’ll eat the rest of you.”

  The woman’s upper lip curled, which caused her to wince. She seemed to take satisfaction in the pain. “Why aren’t you afraid of me? You’re in your human guise. I could kill you easily.”

  “You must think so, or you wouldn’t be here by yourself. Where’s everyone else? Did they leave you alone?”

  “I don’t need them. I don’t need anyone.”

  “That’s good, because with whatever’s under those bandages, I don’t see any intimacy in your future.”

  Unleashing a defiant war cry, the woman swung the sword over her head.

  Rhonda raised both hands to catch the blade, but the woman dropped to a crouch and swung the sword into her left leg instead. Rhonda screamed and went down on her knee.

  The woman wrenched the sword out of her thigh, producing a fountain of blood, and leapt away, drawing her sword once more.

  Whimpering with tears in her eyes, Rhonda rocked back and forth in pain. She raised her head and looked at her attacker. “You’re the bitch,” she said through growing teeth.

  Within the space in the bandage, the woman’s almond-shaped eyes widened, and Rhonda knew that her irises had expanded. She expected the woman to flee, but instead she charged at her, raising the sword above her head.

  Rhonda had only an instant to decide her next move: jump out of harm’s way or will the Change.

  Change. Change.

  Leaping forward, Rhonda transformed into a Wolf. The two females collided in midair, and Rhonda sank her canine fangs into the woman’s collarbone. The woman cried out, dropping her sword, and Rhonda tasted hot blood. The Blade clattered on the floor a moment before the two figures crashed beside it. Rhonda tore flesh and meat from the right side of the woman’s collarbone and gobbled it, smacking her lips.

  The woman staggered to her feet and attempted to escape the space Rhonda’s chains allowed her to reach, but Rhonda dove forward and snapped at the Achilles tendon of the woman’s left leg, bringing her down. The woman screamed, and Rhonda shredded her other Achilles tendon with her claw. The woman tried to pull herself away using her only good limb, her left arm. Rhonda snared one of her wounded ankles and dragged her closer. The woman continued to scream, her fingers clawing at the floor. Rhonda leapt onto her back, sank her teeth into her neck, and shredded her buttocks and the backs of her legs with her rear claws. The blood between her toes felt good.

  Straddling the woman, Rhonda rolled her over so they faced each other. The woman reached up to claw at Rhonda’s face, but Rhonda snapped her jaws down over her fingers. She felt her teeth chewing through flesh and bone, then felt the fingers floating in the blood pooling on her tongue. The woman pulled her arm back and gasped at what remained of her hand: a thumb and four stumps for fingers, each spewing blood.

  Rhonda spat out the severed fingers in a torrent of blood. Then she seized the woman’s head and unwrapped the bandage around it, like a child unwrapping a holiday present. The woman twisted her head away, as if trying to hide her features. Rhonda turned the head around, staring at the grisly mass that had once been a human face. One of her fellow Wolves had certainly done a number on the assassin. If her vocal cords had not Changed with the rest of her, she would have laughed to taunt the woman. Instead, she seized the woman by the throat and stood, raising her victim like a doll. She hurled her against a wall within her reach—

  For Jason!

  The woman winced and appeared to be fighting not to lose consciousness. Unable to stand with her Achilles tendons severed, she collapsed.

  Roaring through blood-slicked teeth, Rhonda threw the woman into the adjacent wall, her body making a wet smacking sound.

  For my parents!

  The woman sank to the floor. “Just kill me …”

  Leaping before the woman, Rhonda dragged her upright once more. She sank the fingers of her front claw into the glistening red wound around the woman’s collarbone, then jerked them down, tearing flesh and fabric all the way to the woman’s stomach, producing a protracted and agonized scream from the woman.

  For me, you bitch!

  Then Rhonda became violent.

  Mace entered the house, turned on the dining room lights, and tossed his keys on the table. He hung up his jacket, stepped out of his shoes, and walked into Patty’s bedroom, where the toddler slept undisturbed. He stood at the crib for a moment, listening to his daughter’s regular breathing. Hearing a footstep in the hall, he saw a shadow fall over them, and he turned to see Cheryl standing in the light, wearing a silver-blue nightgown.

  “You should be asleep,” he said.

  “Do you think I don’t worry about you the way I used to when you go out? I liked it better when you were in the K-9 Unit. I saw you on the news just now. It’s like Beirut. This whole city’s going to be in a panic.”

  Unable to discuss any details, Mace put his arms around her and held her tight.

  Looking up, she kissed him, then led him to bed.

  Michael made his way int
o the brick warehouse complex and unlocked the steel door next to the loading bay. Inside, he peeled off his cap, then his duster, and waited for Angelo and Valeria to arrive. Henri’s death weighed on his shoulders like a giant rock.

  And then there were four, he thought.

  His colleagues entered with shell-shocked expressions. Valeria’s eyes appeared watery.

  “Tudoro arrives tomorrow,” he said. “Hopefully with reinforcements. He’ll have instructions for us. Until then, let’s all get some sleep.”

  Reaching into his duster, Angelo took out Henri’s Blade of Salvation. “First, let’s hang this in Henri’s honor.”

  Michael closed and locked the door, then followed Angelo and Valeria to the freight elevator and then to the dining room on the second floor. Angelo hung Henri’s Blade on the wall under Myles’s.

  Two dead, Michael thought.

  Valeria sucked in her breath. “Oh … God.”

  Moving beside her, Michael followed her gaze to the security monitor on the wall. On the left side of the screen, they saw the muscular and furry back and shoulders of Rhonda, sitting on the floor of her cell in wolf form, the straw on the floor behind her caked in blood.

  Picking up a remote control from the counter, Michael aimed it at the monitor and panned the camera in the cell left, framing the image so they saw the werewolf sitting cross-legged, her fur red with blood, chewing on a human leg that had been stripped of its skin. Organs and other body parts lay on the floor like scattered jigsaw puzzle pieces, with what appeared to be intestines piled in the corner.

  Valeria covered her mouth. “Eun …”

  The werewolf looked up at the camera, staring at them through the lens, her snout covered with blood.

  “She knows we’re watching her,” Angelo said. “She saw or heard the camera move.”

  The werewolf rose, glowering at her captors. She glanced around the cell for something, then moved out of frame. A moment later, she returned with Eun’s head dangling by its hair in her claw.

  “Mother of mercy,” Valeria said.

  The werewolf appeared to cradle Eun’s head for a moment, but she was really just repositioning it in her claw. Then she approached the camera, as close as her chains would allow her to go. Pulling back her arm, she hurled the head at the camera, dislodging it in a shower of blood. When the camera struck the floor, the image on the monitor went dark.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Shortly after 6:00 AM, Angelo steered a silver SUV into Newark Liberty International Airport. After a long and largely sleepless night spent thinking about the deaths of Henri and Eun, he had waited at the warehouse until Father Tudoro called to say his flight had landed.

  Twenty minutes later, coasting past the airport’s ground transportation area, he scanned the walkways for his mentor. An elderly priest was not hard to spot, and he saw the gray-haired man soon enough. Pulling over to the curb, he got out and walked over to the smiling man. They clasped hands and spoke in Italian.

  “It’s good to see you, Father.”

  “And you, Angelo. I’m anxious to hear the details of your work here.”

  Angelo’s heart sank. Despite his pleasure at seeing his father figure, he had hoped the Brotherhood’s apprentices would be with him. Masking his disappointment, he took the priest’s large rolling suitcase and loaded it into the hatch of the SUV, then helped Tudoro into the backseat.

  “You’ve been making headlines,” Tudoro said in a non-judgmental tone once the vehicle had started moving.

  “It’s hard not to attract attention in a city like New York, Father.”

  “Agreed. Despite what the newspapers say, we’re not terrorists. This is a war. Slow down up ahead, please.”

  Puzzled, Angelo slowed down. At a crosswalk ahead, a man with a backpack stood at the curb. He almost didn’t recognize him with his beard: Reddick, Michael’s apprentice. His spirits lifted.

  “I should have brought the passenger van.” Smiling, Angelo popped the hatch, and Reddick loaded his backpack into the hatch and climbed into the backseat.

  “Ciao,” Reddick said.

  “Ciao. I never thought I’d be so happy to see your skinny little ass.”

  “I can’t wait to fight beside you, brother.”

  Just don’t get yourself killed, Angelo thought as he shifted the SUV into gear.

  At a bus station on the outskirts of the airport, Tudoro pointed out another man, this one wearing a bandanna. Angelo recognized Colum, Henri’s French-Canadian apprentice. He pulled over to the curb and popped the hatch again, and Colum loaded his suitcase into the back and got up front.

  “Bonjour,” Colum said to the other passengers.

  “Bonjour,” Tudoro and Reddick said.

  “Now we have to switch back to English,” Angelo said. “It was nice while it lasted. Colum, Reddick, what have you heard?”

  Colum glanced at Tudoro. “Only that the Beasts killed Myles.”

  They don’t know about Henri or Eun yet.

  “We can bring everyone up to speed at your headquarters,” Tudoro said.

  Angelo nodded. “Si.”

  Mace awoke to Cheryl stroking his face. Sitting on his edge of the bed, she had already dressed and made herself up for work.

  “What time do you want to get up? Anna’s here.”

  Mace glanced at the clock—6:30 AM. It felt earlier. “How late is she working? There are labor laws, even for nannies.”

  “Her mother’s taking care of Patty tonight.”

  “I’ll get up now. Technically, I’m supposed to work a swing shift, but after last night—and since I’m leaving early to be at your interview …”

  Cheryl kissed him. “Last night was wonderful. Thank you.” Standing, she walked to the doorway.

  “You look great,” he said. “I’ll see you later.”

  Smiling, she left.

  Mace got out of bed and stretched his arms, legs, and lower back.

  Sniper came into the room, wagging his tail.

  “No running today, buddy.” He rotated his bad arm in its socket. My broken-down body is holding up pretty well so far.

  He had taken a shower after making love to Cheryl only a few hours earlier, so all he did now was splash water over his hair before dressing in a navy-blue suit.

  Anna spoon-fed Patty when he came into the dining area.

  “Good morning, Anna.”

  “Good morning, Captain. It’s a big night for Mrs. Mace!” With an exaggerated frown, Mace kissed Patty on the forehead. “Do you hear that? Mama has a big night.”

  “Mama!”

  “Thank you and your mother both for the long day.”

  Anna smiled. “It’s no problem. We love her. She’s an angel.”

  “Have a good day.” He tapped the tip of Patty’s nose. “Be a good girl.”

  While waiting at a light on the drive into Manhattan, he experienced déjà vu. At least a dozen military vehicles rolled into the street ahead of him: jeeps, Humvees, and troop transport trucks. The National Guard. His cell phone rang in its hands-free cradle, and he pressed it. Jim Mint’s name flashed on the display.

  “Well, well, if it isn’t the keeper of the brass ring.”

  “Tony, please tell me you’re making progress.”

  “Yesterday was only our first full day. What do you expect, a miracle? Give me a break.”

  “I’m under a lot of pressure here. That explosion last night turned the department upside down. A lot of other agencies and departments are breathing down my neck, and none of them are producing results. You’re the only ace I have up my sleeve.”

  “That’s kind of you to say. I see the governor’s made a few calls.”

  “They’re all over the city. The last thing we need is for these bastards to turn and run like everyone thinks the Manhattan Werewolf did.”

  “I don’t know what they’re going to do. But when you pull out guns this big, guys with swords are bound to consider their options.”

  “Have
you got anything at all?”

  “Give me until lunch for an update, okay?”

  “What time do you eat?”

  “One o’clock.”

  “Make it noon.” The line went dead.

  Angelo drove the SUV into the warehouse complex parking lot.

  “Are all of these vehicles ours?” Tudoro said.

  “Yes. They were paid for with cash, using aliases.” Angelo switched off the engine and got out.

  Colum and Reddick helped Tudoro out, and Angelo led them to the door by the loading bay.

  Colum looked at the darkened windows around them. “Are these other buildings empty?”

  “Yes. There are plenty of complexes like this around here, thanks to the economy.” Angelo unlocked the door and took them inside.

  “This place is huge,” Reddick said. “And cold.”

  “It would cost a fortune to heat the whole building. We use space heaters on the second floor.”

  They boarded the freight elevator, and Angelo threw the lever. As they ascended to the second floor, Angelo felt Tudoro avoiding his eyes. When they reached their destination, Angelo pulled the gate up and led his colleagues into the complex. In the dining room, he found Michael and Valeria sitting with a tall man with thinning hair.

  “Loreti!” Angelo could not help but smile at the sight of his own apprentice.

  The Argentinean rose and embraced his teacher. “I’m glad to find you well.”

  Angelo made a noncommittal expression. “These are difficult times.”

  Michael and Valeria stood and approached Tudoro.

  “Welcome, Father.” Michael shook his hand.

  Valeria hugged the old man. “It’s good to see you.”

  Watching Tudoro pat Valeria’s back, Angelo felt a twinge of jealousy, which caused guilt to well up inside him. Discounting the apprentices, Valeria was the youngest member of the group, and he knew the priest felt protective of her.

  Michael shook hands with Reddick and Colum.

  “I’m keeping Scioli in Rome,” Tudoro said. “He and I have a great deal of work to do as soon as I get back. I’m flying out again in two days.”

  “You’re leaving so soon?” Valeria said.