Duel Nature

by John Conroe

  Director Stewart frowned, looking affronted. “I think, Sir, that you’ve misjudged the quality of the people I have with me. Eric is one of the most powerful telepaths we’ve ever come across. Barb is a world class tele-kinetic, and Adine, well she’s in a class by herself.”

  My Grim side was tired of waiting. My body shifted slightly and that was all that was needed.

  Barb, who had been nervous before, even as she appeared to be gathering some power or energy, reacted to my movement. She raised her hand, shoved it in my direction and released the dark cloud I could see about her head. It moved at the speed of thought, at least her thought. It was much slower than Grim’s. My combat persona just absorbed it into my aura, soaking it up like a Bounty paper towel and a puddle of water. Then he pushed back.

  Barb was picked up and thrown back against the brick wall near the wood stove, held frozen in place, her feet suspended two feet off the ground.

  Adine came off her chair, her face starting to change shape. She managed to get her butt two inches off the chair before she came to a sudden and complete halt. My vampire was behind her, her arms wrapped in a rear choke hold around the wereverine’s neck. The speed of her movement across the room sent papers and napkins flying off the table and a sharp crack announced the displacement of air.

  Choking a were is a tricky business. The problem is that they have the option of Changing forms. When a 120 pound woman morphs into a 230 pound wolverine the drastic change in neck size will break the hold of almost anyone. Amost. Not Tanya’s though.

  Benally’s clothes burst at the seams and she kicked and thrashed, but Tanya was Posted to the floor and the very foundation of the house itself. Her arms, stronger than steel, tightened, and despite clawing the shit out of our table, Adine passed out in less than twenty seconds. Eric, clearly terrified out of his mind, reached for a gun on his hip. A low growl three feet to his right caused him to freeze. Turning his head slowly to the right, he found 1000 pounds of pissed off grizzly standing in the now open kitchen door. Awasos wasn’t happy about government people with guns at this point in time, a fact that Eric, bless his soul, picked up on real quick.

  Stewart was visibly distressed at the sight of his assistant, limp in the arms of my vampire. Adine’s partial Change had stopped and her features flowed slowly back to human.

  “You killed her?” the Director asked, his voice shaking.

  “No Director Stewart, not yet,” Tanya answered, her gaze turning back to me.

  Stewart’s head swiveled to follow her look, but he couldn’t meet Grim’s expression. Even Gramps wasn’t looking at me, but Gina was, even as she dialed her cell phone.

  “Roy? Where’s Toni?” she asked into the phone. Her husband’s response was crystal clear to me even fifteen feet away.

  “She’s right here…watching TV. Why?”

  “Because someone gave me a bad scare and implied she was in danger,” she answered, glaring at Stewart as she spoke.

  “Nope, everything’s fine here. They better hope Chris and Tanya don’t hear them suggest that,” he said, wryly.

  “Too late,” she replied.

  “Oh…Oh! Good luck with that,”

  “Yeah gotta go. Love you! Tell Toni I love her.”

  “She wants to say hi.”

  I could hear the phone fumble then a small voice spoke.

  “Hi Mommy, I ‘m watching Animal Planet,” my god daughter said. Something inside me relaxed a bit.

  “Hi baby. Is it something good?” Gina asked.

  “Wilderbeasts,” she said. Her father spoke up. “Wildebeests, Toni, not Wilder- beasts,”

  “Mommy, is Mr. Chris there?”

  “Ah, he is baby, but he’s busy,” Gina said, looking my way.

  Grim retreated, Barb fell off the wall, Tanya let go of Adine, and Awasos stopped growling.

  I reached my hand out for the phone. Gina handed it to me after a quick glance around the room. Stewart was open mouthed in disbelief.

  “Hi Toni, what are those wilder beasts doing?” I asked.

  She giggled. “Mostly running around, but a few are getting eaten by crocodiles and lions and hyenas.”

  “Can you do me a favor? Would you grab your necklace…your bear necklace and squeeze it real hard?” I asked.

  “Okay,” she said.

  “Now think of me or Tanya or Awasos,” I directed, keeping my voice too low for Stewart to hear.

  She must have done it because I immediately had a clear image of her sitting in her house in the family room, on the floor in front of the television, her white rat, Sebastian, climbing on her shoulder.

  Tanya nodded at me and Awasos woofed, shuffling from foot to foot which he does when he’s about to lick Toni’s tiny face.

  Chapter 22

  I said goodbye and handed the phone back to her mother. Gina headed into the other room, still talking with her daughter, while I looked over at Stewart and his crew.

  “Okay, Mr. Stewart,” I began, intentionally omitting his title. “What exactly did you think to accomplish by implying a threat to my goddaughter?”

  Adine came awake suddenly, jerking upright, but calming slightly at the touch of Stewart’s hand on her arm. A pale, sweaty Eric was helping his female team member to her feet.

  Adine looked around, then her expression set and her shoulders hunched. Stewart was watching her carefully and when her head fell forward in obvious self-reproach he immediately spoke.

  “Adine, dear, I have failed you,” he said, patting her hand then covering it with his own. She looked up at him, startled at his words.

  “I have failed you and Eric and Barb,” he continued. “I should never have put you in this position. If I had properly listened to Mrs. Velasquez, none of this would have happened.”

  Adine started to speak, but he held up his free hand, gesturing for silence. “You see my dear, I’ve forgotten too much over these many years. I’ve forgotten that there are mysteries beyond what you and I have experienced together. The evidence was obvious, in fact, General Creek even showed me video, but somehow I’ve become arrogant – overconfident in my own knowledge and judgment.”

  Gina came back in from the other room and leaned up against the door frame to listen.

  Stewart nodded at her, then turned back to me and Tanya, who was standing next to me, but keeping a close eye on Adine. The Director’s expression was a unique mixture of sadness and chagrin.

  “When I was twenty-four. Chris, I was a very new, very wet-behind the ears recruit for a little known intelligence group attached to the U.S. Army. They had recruited me straight out of Harvard. You see, I was lucky enough to graduate with two degrees. One in political science and the other in psychology. The folks who hired me had read two papers I had written in my senior year. The first paper detailed my own analysis of Europe’s politics at that time and my conclusions apparently matched those of my employers. They were impressed. My other paper was about self-suggestive psychology in relation to supposed paranormal activity,” Stewart said, with a self-deprecating smile. “My theory on that was that people deluded themselves into believing they were seeing ghosts, meeting angels or performing magic. I was pretty full of myself with that piece of work, but what I didn’t realize was that while my bosses agreed with my political paper, they didn’t believe my psychology paper. But my skepticism made me a perfect investigator for supernatural phenomenon that they hoped was real.” The Director paused, looking at Adine as he remembered the story. Barb and Eric looked fascinated, making me think was a story they hadn’t heard before.

  “So my new bosses sent me north to Alaska to investigate a story from the interior. A trapper had come out of the bush with a crazy tale of a man-beast deep in the wilderness. Off I went with a squad of infantry for protection. In Anchorage I met my native guide, a beautiful young woman of Athabaskan descent,” he said looking at Adine and squeezing her hand. Her look back was the first unguarded expression I’d ever seen on her face. Despite the apparent
difference in years, they were obviously an item.

  Which begged a question.

  “Chris….I don’t think you need to raise your hand, just ask,” Stewart said with a small smile.

  Slightly embarrassed, I lowered my hand. “Sorry, force of habit. I just wanted to ask what year this all took place?”

  He smiled again, the sharp gleam returning a bit to his eye. “1938,” he answered.

  I did some quick math. Gramps was faster. “You were born in 1914,” my grandfather stated.

  “Yes, I am ninety-eight this year,” Stewart said.

  “So the LV virus in your leg has slowed your aging,” I said, not really surprised although he looked no older than late sixties.

  Now he was visibly surprised. “You know I have Lycanthropic Virus in my leg?”

  “Yeah, I see it in your aura. It matches Adine’s, so I’m thinking it’s the same strain, and you were both infected at the same time,” I answered.

  “You continue to astound me, young Mr. Gordon, although you have completely ruined the telling of my story,” he said, slightly admonishing.

  “Sorry, Director, please go on,” I said.

  “So, where was I? Oh yeah, headed deep into the interior wilderness with eight soldiers, one staff sergeant, and Adine. I won’t bore you with the details, except to say, that it was difficult for the hardened troops, and therefore, it almost killed me. Adine handled it the best, but then we were headed to her home, you see. Her father was shaman for the tribe of Athabascan Indians, or Na Dene, as they call themselves, whose village was our destination. It was summer, so the mosquitoes and black flies were legion, the terrain broken and rugged beyond anything I had ever encountered. To this day, the best way in to her village is by bush plane,” he said, pausing to take a drink of his milk.

  It was fresh from our farm and therefore tasted completely different from store bought milk. He seemed to relish it. Gramps refilled his glass from the pitcher on the table and Stewart nodded his thanks before continuing.

  “If I were telling this story to a different audience I would explain the difficulties in hunting a creature with the senses of a wolverine and the intelligence of a man. But you people are world class experts in hunting and destroying weres, something I will never forget again,” he said. Then he noticed the rapt expressions on Eric and Barb’s faces. “This story is not to be repeated,” he admonished them with a finger wave.

  “I will say that I had questioned my beautiful guide at great length regarding the stories of this particular beast. I was shocked to find that she had an intellect that was every bit my equal. Despite my skepticism at the validity of this story, I was captivated by her attention to detail, flavored with the rich culture of her people. She was fresh from the University of Seattle, where she had earned a degree in government studies, a feat uncommon for most women in that day, let alone one who was a Native American from a poor fishing village in Alaska.”

  He took another sip of milk, then went on.

  “I was already well on my way to being smitten, by the time we arrived at her village. The stories had described a man who could turn into a beast during the full moon and slaughter any human who was unlucky enough to encounter him. Classic werewolf story. My guide was adamant though that it wasn’t a wolf, but Naltsiis, the Dene term for wolverine.

  We met her father, the shaman for her village and several others. He warned us that the creature would consider the village his personal territory and would take our presence as a hostile invasion. I thanked him, then promptly ignored his words as I had absolute faith in my personal theories, backed by the weapons of my soldiers. Plus it was a good four days till the next full moon, so we had plenty of time…or so I thought. Sergeant Price set up camp efficiently and posted a rotating guard. Turns out it’s not hard to find wereverines at all. All you need do is trespass on their territory with armed men and you’ll bring them right in. I also learned that weres are not bound by the full moon.

  The wereverine attacked the first night, slaughtered the guards and half the men before we were aware he was among us. It wasn’t even late or very dark, this being Alaska in the summer, when the days are exceedingly long. Adine and I were at my tent, discussing the absence of this kind of creature from their legends. Our first clue that something was wrong was when Private Scott’s head landed on my map table, followed two shotgun blasts.

  An astounding number of events came together to allow the two of us to survive. The first was Sergeant Price. He was a veteran of World War I and a firm believer in modern firepower. Subsequently, we were well armed with two Browning Automatic Rifles, three Thompson submachine guns, a bunch of Springfield rifles and several pump shotguns. Price had posted two guards on four hour shifts. The beast killed both guards and three soldiers in one of the tents before anyone got off a shot. Corporal Izzo was coming back from the latrine, saw the monster tear apart poor Scott and shot it twice with the shotgun that Sergeant Price insisted that everyone take with them to the jakes. It was his standing order in bear country.

  Those two blasts of double ought buckshot saved us. Didn’t save Izzo, who was disemboweled almost instantly. But the buckshot wounded the were and slowed it enough for Price and Private Nelson to open up with Thompsons. Even wounded it was still fast enough to avoid most of the rounds, run through my tent, wound Adine and I, and kill one more soldier. I don’t recall his name,” he said, brow furrowed as he tried to remember.

  “O’Connor…Private O’Connor was his name, Nathan,” Adine said in a soft voice, not looking up from the table.

  “Yes, my dear, you are correct. It was O’Connor who died last. Sergeant Price grabbed his BAR, which was his pride and joy. A custom job, shortened and lightened. He killed the wereverine, emptied a full magazine into its skull and chest,” he said.

  “That would do it,” my grandfather agreed.

  “Yes, Mr. Gordon, a most impressive weapon the BAR,” Stewart said. “One day on site and the expedition was a shambles. Seven dead soldiers and two wounded. My leg had taken a bite,” he said, patting his left calf. “But Adine was really badly wounded, with bites and claw wounds everywhere. The gunfire was heard in the village and Adine’s father arrived with some of the village men. They helped Price and Nelson bury the dead and burn the wereverine. I had, of course taken tissue samples, not realizing that Adine and I were carrying the virus in our bodies. Adine’s father knew though, what with him being a shaman and all. He helped treat our wounds, applying certain herbs that in my case stopped the virus from spreading and changing me. He couldn’t do anything to slow the LV in his daughter though.”

  Stewart paused and gazed into Adine’s eyes fondly.

  “A truly remarkable man Mr. Benally was. By all rights he should have murdered us. The chances of Adine retaining her sanity were exceedingly slim, you see. Wereverines are exceptionally rare, almost all of them are born to the species. Bitten wereverines are left on their own and almost without exception go crazy at their first change. Wolverines are not pack animals like wolves, they don’t hang around to help the newly Changed. But Adine’s father used his skills to link us, so that I could help Adine through her first Change. It worked and here we are.”

  He looked around at the silent audience, all of us fascinated by his story. Sipping his milk, he turned back to me.

  “I’ve haven’t told that story in thirty or forty years. But after my monumental error in judgment, I can at least give you some idea of what we’re about. Since that trip, Adine and I have traveled the world seeking out knowledge and individuals of the supernatural world. We have used that knowledge to help every President since that day. The unique and truly gifted group of people we’ve been able to recruit have done as much for this country as Seal Team Six, but with even less fanfare.”

  “So you’re here to recruit us?” I asked.

  “Oh, Chris, I would dearly love to recruit you and your lovely bride, but I realize you have conflicts, especially given her apparent posit
ion in the society of vampires as I understand it,” he said. “It’s those very conflicts that bring me here.”

  “Conflicts with what?” I asked.

  “Ms. Demidova is, from what we understand, highly ranked in the hierarchy of the Coven. Which is odd, seeing as she has a birth certificate proving she is, actually only twenty-five. But perhaps it has to do with her being born into the species and all? But I digress.

  You have what has been described as an ‘incredibly intense’ relationship with a high ranking member of what we understand is a worldwide society of vampires. A nation as it were. And your loyalty to the nation of your birth is very much in question,” he said.

  “Excuse me? When have I shown myself to be disloyal to the United States. I pretty much removed a threat to the country by myself,” I said.