by John Conroe
The manager intercepted them at the door, filling them in on my various transgressions, then angrily leading them to our table.
“Sir you can’t have that…Holy shit is that a horse?” the male cop said, eyes wide as he got a good look at Awasos. “You got tags for that elephant?” he asked.
I reached down and rotated ‘Sos’s collar so he could see the tags. If anyone ran the numbers they would come up legit courtesy of the Coven.
“Listen, Officer – Connell,” I said, reading his tag. His partner’s nametag said ‘Tran’ on it.
“That would have been fine if Shane here had told me that before we sat down to a $400 dinner. He led us right to this table and never said a word. Then he called me a liar when I pointed that out. But would he look at the security tapes? No, ‘cause he knows he’s wrong. Now he just wants my money and then for me to get the hell out.”
Shane sputtered and turned a really great shade of splotchy red.
“Why did you seat him and the pony here if the animal was a problem?” the cop asked.
“I never did!” Shane yelled.
“No? Than why did you wait till I got my second entrée before complaining?” I shot back.
The cop scratched his head, while his rookie companion stood in a parade rest stance that she hoped looked tough while trying not to laugh at the situation. Awasos had been lying on the ground, now he decided to sit up. His head came well above the tabletop. Everyone backed up and the cops put their hands on their guns.
“If he causes a problem, I’ll shoot him,” Officer Connell promised me. I must have frowned because he frowned back.
“He doesn’t like being shot and if you’re gonna shoot him with those,” I said, pointing at his Glock 9mm, “ – you’re just gonna piss him off.”
“Sir, I need to see some ID,” the tiny lady cop said suddenly. Connell frowned at her but let it go. My wallet was sitting on the table, waiting for my Coven issued credit card to come back. I handed her my license.
This should be…interesting.
This mini cop scanned my license with some kind of tablet unit and handed it back. Then she frowned at the almost immediate results.
“It says ‘File Five’?” she said to her partner. File five is a term that police dispatchers use to let an on scene officer know that the suspect in front of them needs further explanation without said suspect hearing. It’s a code word to get the officer to call dispatch and receive more information. It could be that the suspect is highly dangerous, or maybe a deep cover cop or just requires special handling.
“What?” he looked at her display then turned sideways to me so he could keep an eye on me as he walked twenty feet away, pulling out an iPhone as he did. The phone rang before he could turn it on.
“Connell,” he answered. I listened in.
“Connell, this is Dispatch. Did you or your partner just run a license for a ‘Chris Gordon’?”
“Yeah, what’s up?”
“All hell broke loose. This guy must be mega important to the feds ‘cause Homeland Security is on the other line. They want whoever ran the ID to back the hell off and leave him alone.”
“I’m not sure I can do that Dispatch. Public safety may be involved,” Connell said with a glance at Awasos. He didn’t sound all that set on the safety thing, just curious and fishing for info.
“Okay, now I got the Commissioner’s Assistant on the other phone with my boss and Homeland wants to be patched through to you directly. The heat level is high on this one so I’m patching them through.”
“Wait..Dispatch..”
“Officer Connell? This is Special Agent Forbes with Homeland Security. Are you in contact with a Christian Gordon?”
“Ah yes..I was just responding to a call about a disturbance at a restaurant,”
“Has Mr. Gordon killed or injured anyone?”
“Ere, nooo,” Connell trailed off, looking at me from across the room, his brow completely furrowed.
“What was the nature of the disturbance?”
“He’s eating dinner and has a horse-sized dog..wolf..dog with him, and he wouldn’t leave till he finished his steak.”
A new figure entered the steakhouse, catching the attention of everyone in the room. It probably happened wherever she went. Tall, lithe and platinum blonde she was beautiful by Manhattan standards. She was dressed in dark, painted-on skinny jeans tucked into black high-heeled knee boots, with a light blue loose fitted V-neck blouse that still managed to cling to her rather amazing chest. An oversized white faux python print purse was slung over one shoulder and she breezed into the room like she owned it. She flashed a dazzling smile at the cops and manager Shane as she breezed by them.
“Don’t worry, I got this,” she assured them as she walked up to my table, patted ‘Sos on the head and sat down.
‘Hi Stacia. You look great!” I managed to say as she leaned over, grabbed my mug of beer and sipped it. The view down her shirt distracted both me and the married guy to my right. The waiter two tables over poured water all over the table he was servicing.
“Hi Chris, you look a bit…down,” she said, focusing her brilliant green eyes on me and forgetting the rest of the room.
“It’s been a tough day,” I said.
Across the room Officer Connell was looking on wide-eyed and open mouthed. His partner looked suddenly uncertain, an effect that Stacia Reynolds has on many women.
“Officer Connell, what’s the current situation?” Agent Forbes asked on the phone.
“Ah, a beautiful woman just came in and sat down with the suspect,” Connell said without taking his eyes off Stacia.
“Black hair, blue eyes?” Forbes asked urgently.
“No blonde and I didn’t get the eye color,” Connell said. Officer Tran piped up. “Green.”
“Green Agent Forbes,” Connell said into the phone.
“Hmm, don’t know who that is. Here’s the deal Connell and it’s pretty much a career deciding one for you. We need you to back the hell off Mr. Gordon and leave him right alone.”
“Just leave?” Connell asked.
“Leave him like he’s poisonous! Got it?”
“Yeah, no problem Agent,” Connell said. He looked like the kind of guy who just wanted to get through his twenty years and start collecting a pension. His phone rang again as soon as he hung up.
“Hello?”
“Connell, this is Lt. Snyder, Assistant to the Commissioner. You have a Chris Gordon in sight?”
“Yeah, but I’m just leaving. Homeland wants me away from him. File Five and all that.”
“No! The Commissioner needs you to give him a message and my number. Ask him to call me whenever it’s convenient but as soon as possible! Got it?”
Connell looked even more puzzled as the Lieutenant rattled off a cell number which he wrote on the back of a card pulled from his shirt pocket.
Stacia smiled at me as all this went down, the both of us listening in on the calls.
“You’re growing your hair out,” I said, pretty much at a loss as to why she was there.
She flounced her platinum white hair and loosed a brilliant smile. “You noticed!”
Not noticing something about Stacia would be more unlikely. She had been beautiful when I met her on a dark campground in Vermont, wearing nothing but a thong with blood streaming down her perfect leg. But the LV virus she had contracted that night had taken her a level or two higher. The extra health and vitality that the virus lent its hosts shown in her skin, hair and eyes.
“So why are you here?” I asked. Connell was done writing and now making his way over to us.
“Oh, well, you see Brock and Afina have some work for you if you’re interested. Seeing as how you’re not dwelling underground anymore,” she said with a smile.
“News travels fast,” I commented.
“One of your chilly, pale friends called Afina, worried about you,” she said.
“Tanya?” I asked, absurdly eager.
&nb
sp; She frowned at me and shook her head. “The little one I think. Lydia?”
I nodded. That fit.
“Mr. Gordon, everything seems okay, but the Commissioner’s office would like you to give them a call. Here’s the number.”
“Thanks,” I said, puzzled by the Commissioner’s interest.
“Hey what about the wolf?” Shane asked, outraged.
Connell looked at me a bit helpless.
“He’s a service wolf,” I said.
“There, see, service wolf. You gotta let him in, it’s the law.”
“We’re leaving anyway,” Stacia said, smiling. Both men forgot the conversation and probably their names.
“What’s the job?” I asked her as we walked out.
“Demons problems at another pack. North Carolina, I think.”
“How come you’re the one to always deliver messages to me?” I asked.
“Because I’m the only one who can always find you,” she said mysteriously as she sauntered out the door.
As if I didn’t have enough strange mysteries to think about.
I followed the beautiful blonde out the door, thinking of a beautiful brunette and wondered where my strange life would take me. In front of me, Awasos turned his giant head and glanced at me. His normally brown eyes flashed lava red and his big tongue lolled out of his mouth. He was laughing at me. Figures.
Epilogue
The Volvo Cross Country wagon might not have been as roomy as the Tahoe or the Suburban I was used to, but it handled a whole lot better, even with a huge wolf in back.
I was on a section of I-95 South that wasn’t too busy, so when my cell rang I could answer it without being too distracted.
“Dude, you really know how to make an exit!”
“Hey Chet! What’s happening?” I asked. There had been no contact from Tanya, Lydia or any of my other friends in the Coven so I had left town completely in the dark.
“Where to start? Well, Mausya won the title of Elder. She was a shoo-in after you demonstrated you could kill ancient vampires by simply farting in their direction,” Chet said.
“I did not fart!” I said.
“Yeah, right, that would probably destroy Manhattan. Anyway she got the spot but all she does is frown and tilt her head sideways. Especially when looking at Tanya.”
“How is Tanya…she hasn’t called me back.”
“She’s…fierce. Chewed out the entire Coven, Elders and all. Right after you left, the Patrons got all up in arms, you know ‘kill the evil mutant and stuff’. Anyway, everyone was in the Conclave amphitheater, Mausya was officially an Elder and T climbs up on an unused dais and rips into them. Asked them how it felt to be part of the pitchfork and torch group for a change. Suggested that by all means they should keep pressuring you because that’s worked out so very well for Loki Spawn and the government.”
“No way. What did Senka do?” I asked.
“She stood there and took it like the others, but secretly I think she was proud of T. Anyway, Tanya explained that so far you just get more dangerous when pressed and if they wanted to tackle you then go ahead, but she was out of it and could she have their stuff when you killed them all off. Dude, she was freaking brilliant! But since then she’s been pretty grim, pardon the pun. Been beating the bejesus outta Hosokawa in the gym.”
“Why won’t she call me back?”
“Cause, Dude, there are still whole groups of vamps that want to kill your ass. They watch her every move and I’m supposed to track your movements with your cell and credit card. That’s why I’m calling…to tell you to ditch both. Seeing as you’re headed out of town and all I figured it was safe to do it now.”
My companion in the passenger seat had been painting her toenails and must have made a mistake because she suddenly swore. It was quiet but still loud enough for Chet to hear.
“Who’s that?”
“Stacia, my Pack liaison to the Asheville Pack,” I replied, trying not to glance sideways at the long tan legs stretched out in front of her on the dashboard. How do chicks do that anyway?
“The super blonde? Oh shit! That’s not gonna go over well. And I gotta be the one to tell Tanya! You must freaking hate me!”
“Chet, it’s a business trip. Nothing more.”
“Oh yeah, right! Like dudes on business trips with superhot blondes never got into trouble before.”
Stacia, whose werewolf hearing let her listen into my entire conversation turned sideways and grinned.
“Tell him thanks for saying I’m hot,” she said.
Chet heard her without me repeating.
“I said ‘superhot’!” he said.
Stacia laughed and wiggled her freshly painted toes. She was an incredibly low maintenance travel companion. I guess it made sense, as she grew up poor in Vermont. But she had taken to the New York fashion scene with such verve that I had expected problems when the Alphas of the New York Pack insisted that I take her with me. Instead, she was easygoing, not particularly fussy and pretty funny. The hard part was that she didn’t seem to own any clothes that fit. The cutoff Daisy Dukes she was currently painted into were par for the course and her tee shirt appeared to be a size or so too small. It was losing the fight to contain her…assets. Distracting to say the least.
“Where you headed anyway?” Chet asked.
“Asheville, North Carolina.”
“What’s the gig?”
“The local pack down there is having some kind of problem that includes both demons and murder. Brock and Afina think I’m perfect for the job. Stacia is supposed to liase with them and get experience.”
“Oh I bet she’s got experience!”
Stacia’s head snapped around and glared at the phone.
“Look, Chris, I gotta go. Already pushing the boundaries with this call, if you know what I mean?”
“Tell Tanya that I love her.”
“Before or after I explain you’re traveling with a blonde bombshell?”
“Just do it, please?” I asked.
“You got it, boss,” he said and hung up.
I powered down the window and threw the phone out. I’d rip up the card at the next stop.
“You really love her don’t you?” Stacia asked.
“Oh yeah!” I answered.
“But if she loves you why did she make you leave?”
“You heard my call – the vampires would have tried to kill me. She needed to stay and calm them down.”
“So, the old ‘if you love something let it go’ thing huh?”
“Maybe partly. She knows how I feel, we are bonded.”
“Well she’s bonded. You not so much,” Stacia said, looking straight ahead.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Chris, everyone knows that vampire bonds only truly work both ways when both partners are actually vampires. You’re not! You can break the bond if you want. She can’t.”
“I’m close enough!” I insisted.
“Really? Are you sure?” she said, then ended the conversation by putting her ear buds in and turning on her iPod.
I was sure though… wasn’t I? But deep down part of me wondered at that. The road stretched out in front of us and we were only halfway there. I sighed as I realized just how much time I had to dwell on her words. I wasn’t Darkkin, in fact I had no desire to be one, but I did want to be Tanya’s Chosen. So I had to find a way to reassure the older vampires and try to figure out Senka. She had been too self-satisfied for my taste. Sorting out demons for a were pack would be a nice distraction.
The current radio advertisement ended and a retro program came on. The first song up….’Werewolves of London’. Perfect.
The End.
Acknowledgements
As usual, writing this book has been a great learning experience. I need to thank my writing and martial arts mentors, Joe, Jim and Jesse Bruchac, particularly for details on Cheenos.
Marty Munson continues to be an outstanding proof reader and of course
I have to thank my wife and daughters. Allison provided fashion details that I will never fathom and Emilee continues to find me the perfect writing music. My wife, bless her heart, continues to be my support.