by Tess Lake
Red and TJ didn’t seem to be taking it as seriously as I was though. TJ was inspecting his wounds, touching his fingers to the blood and then sniffing it.
Jay had knelt down beside him as well and was checking the wounds.
“Is this real?” Red asked them.
“What do you mean is it real? Hasn’t he been attacked by something?” I said.
“Yeah, I think I recognize this guy. I’m pretty sure he’s that one from Chicago,” TJ said.
“Still, that’s real blood and these are real wounds. Either this guy is the most intense method actor ever, or he was attacked by someone,” Jay said.
“Method actor? What’s going on?” I asked. My anxiety and confusion was making my stomach turn. Who knows, maybe that was all the alcohol and take-out.
“There is an author who likes to promote his books by putting on crazy stunts. Last time it was some a sea monster that apparently attacked somebody. The somebody in that case I’m sure being this man. But I don’t know, this does look like he was attacked,” Red explained.
I knelt down and examined at the man. The wounds on his body were very real indeed. From somewhere behind us came another howl.
I turned around with everyone else but all I saw was a dark shape up on the roof, a glint of glowing eyes, and then it was gone.
“If this is a hoax, it’s the best one I’ve ever seen,” Jay said.
The unconscious man stirred and started mumbling. “Something attacked me, something came out of the dark,” he said before lapsing back into unconsciousness.
I couldn’t help but think that he’d chosen his words precisely, despite his wounds. Not someone had attacked him.
But some thing.
Chapter Five
I awoke in the morning hung over and boiling hot with a thudding head, alone in Jack’s bed.
The bedroom door was open and I could hear him down in the kitchen, whistling softly to himself. He was cooking bacon and eggs, but this morning the sound wasn’t friendly at all. The thought of eating made me want to throw up.
I groaned as I remembered why I felt like this, bits of the night coming together and whacking me in the brain. The ambulance and police had eventually arrived. Sheriff Hardy wasn’t with them, which I was happy about. I didn’t want my brand-new uncle to see me out on the street with blood on my hands having severely over-imbibed.
That’s right, I’d had blood on my hands because when you let a girl who’s had too much to drink examine someone injured she doesn’t realize what she’s touching with her hands.
I’d had a brief interview with one of the officers and then called Jack to bring me home. Turns out I did actually have my phone with me, but inebriated Harlow didn’t realize that. The writers had gone their own way, heading back to the Hardy Arms. Jack had come to pick me up and I remembered being in his truck and then waking up sometime in the night to stand over the bathroom sink trying to convince myself not to throw up, splashing water on my face and then gulping down a glass of it. Now it was morning, and I was certainly paying for last night.
I rolled out of bed and found I was just in a T-shirt and my underwear that had little cats wearing bowties on it. I looked around for the rest of my clothes but couldn’t see them. I dragged my sorry self down to the kitchen, trying to breathe shallowly, the smell of bacon was making my stomach turn.
“Ah, there she is, aspirin’s on the counter,” Jack said, pointing a spatula at a glass of chilled water with two white tablets sitting next to it
I gulped the tablets down and swallowed the water, feeling my stomach gurgling in protest.
“What time is it?” I croaked.
“Just past seven which means you had about five and a half hours sleep,” Jack said. “Do you want any of this?”
“I never want to see food again,” I said and closed my eyes. “Wait, I was out until two in the morning?”
“It must have been some party. You’d better watch those writers, they’re trouble,” Jack said and gave me a smile.
I gave him a weak one in return and tried to cudgel my brain into thinking up a solution for my current predicament of feeling terrible. Unfortunately, my brain was feeling terrible too and so didn’t have anything apart from drink water, try to eat some food at some point, and then stay in bed until you either felt better or died. Your choice.
My stomach growled again and a wave of nausea washed across me.
“I’m going to go sit in the lounge room,” I mumbled. I started staggering in that general direction when there was a loud knock on the front door right as I was about to pass by it. For some reason (well, we know the reason, I was tired and hung over) I decided that while in my T-shirt and underwear and holding half a glass of cold water to open the front door.
I pulled the door open to find an older version of Jack looking at me with a grin on his face. The woman beside him had deep red hair and was wearing a cheerful smile, far too cheerful for this time of the morning.
“You must be Harlow, we’re Jack’s parents,” the man said.
Two things happened at that point. One, I gasped. Two, I dropped my glass of water which exploded at my feet.
“Urk,” I said and then I bolted away from his parents, away from the broken glass and water, around the corner and down the corridor into the bedroom.
I don’t know exactly what I was doing. Perhaps trying to get away. The moment I ran into the bedroom I tripped straight over Adams who must have stepped out of the darkness to speak to me, cracked my leg against the side of the bed and then toppled over it, bouncing off and landing on the floor on my back. As I lay there gasping, Adams moseyed up beside me and nuzzled at my head tickling my face with his whiskers.
“Jack’s parents are here,” he said to me.
“I know,” I gasped, trying to calm down.
“Do you think that seeing as I warned you that perhaps you could get me a little more–”
“I already met them so your warning’s too late, no food for you,” I said, not intending to be harsh but perhaps still a little shocked at what had happened.
Adams nuzzled against me, then walked off under the bed, vanishing into the dark.
I heard the bedroom door open and then Jack popped his head in and saw me on the floor.
“You okay? Did you cut yourself on the glass?” he said.
“I wish I was dead. That was so embarrassing,” I groaned.
Jack came into the bedroom and closed the door behind him. He came over beside me, gently stroked my face and then helped me up off the ground. The room swirled around for a moment before he sat me on the bed. He handed me a cold bottle of water he’d been carrying in his other hand.
“It’s fine. My parents have seen far worse,” he said.
Despite my shock and my hangover and my stomach I could hear the slight joke in his voice.
“Oh yeah? How many girls exactly is it that they have met in underwear at your front door?” I said, trying to make a joke.
“Twenty-six,” Jack said, matter-of-factly.
It’s a good thing I hadn’t had any water yet because I would have splurted it.
“What do you mean twenty-six?”
“Adele, Bianca, Charlize, Devon, Emma, Fiona, Georgina, Harlow, Indigo…” It took me a second to realize he was simply going through the alphabet and making up girl’s names. I punched him in the arm as he laughed and then I groaned again, tipping forward, pushing my head into his chest as he wrapped his arms around me.
“Why did I drink so much?” I moaned.
“You be fine, I’ll take them away for breakfast. You can recover and then we’ll meet up, okay?”
“No it’s fine, I should meet them,” I said protesting weakly.
Jack made some noncommittal noise and then left me alone. I went to the shower, which did help somewhat, got dressed into some clothes that were living at Jack’s house, and then made my way back to the kitchen where Jack and his parents were chatting and drinking coffee.
“Don’t throw any water glasses at us this time,” his mother joked and gave me a smile too.
“I am so sorry. You’ve met me at probably the worst time of the last year. I’m working as a PA for an author and we had a big party last night and I lost too many drinking games and I promise the next time you see me I’ll be witty and charming and not hungover,” I said.
“It’s not a problem. We thought we’d scared you with the old we’ll be there in two days trick,” Jack’s dad said.
“It’s the best trick of all,” Jack said, rolling his eyes but smiling.
“I’m Harlow, by the way,” I said.
Jack’s dad stood up from the stool. He was about the same height as Jack and his eyes were roughly the same color, hovering on that point between blue and green. He had crinkles around his eyes from smiling. He shook my hand and then hugged me. You could see where Jack and Jonas had gotten their looks from.
“I’m Jonathan but you can call me Jon,” he said.
“Jonathan, Jon, Jack, and Jonas, so you must be Julie or Jello?” I joked, smiling at Jack’s mother.
“Almost. I’m Jasmine, you can call me Jas,” she said and gave me a hug and a quick kiss.
Before we could get to talking, Jack abandoned his bacon and eggs, bustled his parents out of there, gave me a kiss, and said he’d talk to me later. I was soon left alone in his house. I opened the cupboard, took a two-second glance at a variety of cereals that my stomach decided it wanted nothing to do with, and then remembered that it was Jack who had driven me to his house in his truck last night. The rental car was still at the Hardy Arms, which was in the center of town. I groaned, grabbed another bottle of cold water from the fridge, and then stepped outside and locked the door behind me. Although it was early, the heat was rising, so I took off as fast as my hangover would allow me, heading for the center of town. It wasn’t long before I was sweating and feeling very much worse for wear.
I was about halfway in when I saw the giant figure of TJ jogging his way up the road towards me. He was wearing a bright yellow fluorescent tank top and a matching pair of shorts, plus his mirrored sunglasses. As he approached, I could see his face was red, and he was sweating so much it looked like he’d fallen into a swimming pool. He came to a stop near me and pulled off his sunglasses, looking me up and down.
“I’ve gotta say this, but you look like you’ve been dragged through a hedge backward,” he said and gave me a wink.
“I feel like that’s what happened,” I said. “What are you doing jogging, are you crazy?”
“It feels bad, but believe me, if you have a hangover, drink some water, exercise and you’ll get rid of it faster than doing nothing. I guarantee it. You should eat some fried junk food, too,” he said.
Now that he said it, I guess I was starting to feel a little better, perhaps from walking and the water. The thought of something fried and salty was actually starting to sound good.
“Have you seen anyone else this morning?” I asked.
“I think Red and Jenna went down the beach. I’m sharing a room with Jay and he’s still asleep after spending quite a bit of time in the bathroom last night,” TJ said. I groaned at the thought of it, took a sip of my water, and then I suddenly remembered TJ and Red claiming the man attacked was an actor.
“What did you say about that man last night? That he’s an actor?” I blurted out.
“Yeah, I checked it out last night online. Carl Stern. He’s the same paid guy who was in Chicago who was ‘attacked’ by a sea monster. Of course, it was all promotion for a book. I don’t know what happened last night though. Maybe he fell off the roof or something, or perhaps he did get attacked. The wounds looked real to me.”
“Who’s the author who does the stunts?” I asked.
“His name is Markus Hornby. Writes monster stories. They’re pretty good but for some reason he’s into doing these crazy promotional stunts as well. I guarantee with the howling last night and if that guy was attacked, that Markus’s next book is probably going to be about werewolves,” TJ said.
The watch on his arm beeped at him in what I thought was quite an angry manner.
“Okay, heart rate is coming down, I’ve gotta get going. I’ll see you later though,” he said. He put his sunglasses on and jogged away.
I continued into Harlot Bay. The sun was well and truly up now. I could feel it beating down upon me, the temperature rising as I scurried from shadow to shadow trying to avoid being burnt to a crisp.
Publicity stunt or not there was something strange happening with the magic last night.
The lonely howling may have come from some hidden sound source, but in my heart I knew that wasn’t true.
As I walked into town, heading for the Hardy Arms, I saw a young vampire heading down the street with a loaf of bread under his arm. I was fairly sure there was no such thing as real vampires of course. I mean, yes, there were entities that would drink blood but vampires weren’t real. But what had TJ said? He’d bet that Markus Hornby’s next book would be about werewolves. They weren’t real… were they?
I needed to talk to Aunt Cass or the moms.
I finally made it to the car, started the engine and then relaxed in the chilled air conditioning.
The first event of today was at two in the afternoon, the grand opening of Writerpalooza at the Town Hall, so I didn’t have anything to do until then except get home, maybe talk to Aunt Cass, have some food, and try to sleep. I drove home slowly, being careful on the bumpy road so I didn’t damage the car.
I parked at our end of the mansion, stepped out of the car, and then my stomach growled. I was suddenly starving. I sniffed the air and caught the scent of delicious food coming from the other end of the mansion. It was still early, and I knew the dining room would likely be crowded with guests, but I couldn’t resist. I had to get some of that food right now! I made my way as fast as I could down to the other end of the mansion and went inside to find the large dining table already filled with guests enjoying a delicious breakfast. I gave them a smile and wave and then went through into the kitchen where I found Mom frantically cooking and, surprisingly, Aunt Cass helping ferry out dishes to the guests.
“Oh Harlow, you look terrible, did Jack see like that?” Mom said.
“Yes, he did,” I said with absolutely no tone in my voice. Despite the heavy early morning judgment, Mom was already putting together a plate for me, which she passed across and then also a cup of coffee which I sipped from gratefully. She’d handed me a plate of bacon and eggs and fried tomato. There were also some slices of watermelon on the side. The coffee had a vanilla flavor through it, courtesy of the beans that the moms had been experimenting with. It was yet another side-effect from Peta taking over The Traveler Café and rebranding it to The Cozy Cat. Molly and Luce had been right about trying to make each ingredient unique. Breads baked from special flours, free range eggs, goat’s milk and things like that. Peta had dived headfirst into it and every time she got access to some great produce she shared her supply with the moms who were now incorporating it into the breakfasts out of the Torrent mansion. They were also making different breads at the bakery using the unique flours that they’d discovered.
As I thought of Peta I realized I hadn’t seen her for at least a week. Between all of us being busy and her at The Cozy Cat Café we’d only managed to catch up in brief moments. I decided on the spot that I would find some time to hang out with my girl. Maybe a dinner?
I ate my breakfast, my stomach slowly starting to feel better as Mom cooked frantically and Aunt Cass moved dishes in and out. Eventually, the flow of food slowed as the table reached capacity and all the guests had come down to eat. That was when Aunt Cass sat down across from me with a hot cup of coffee and fixed me with a look.
“Was that you last night who did that to the magic?” she asked.
“You mean when it went all gritty and sort of muddy?”
“So it was you,” Aunt Cass said.
“No, it wasn’t. I was out at a party and then we went out into the streets, and suddenly there was a man with his clothes all ripped to pieces and wounds all up and down his arms,” I said. I told Aunt Cass and Mom the story. Mom had been cleaning dishes at the beginning of it, but by the end was standing across from me with a worried look on her face.
“Do you think it could be… this feels ridiculous to say… could it be a werewolf?” I said.
“No, not possible,” Aunt Cass said.
“Not possible because werewolves don’t exist or not possible for some other reason?”
“I don’t know if they exist, Harlow. That’s not important. Something happened last night to make the magic all muddy like that and I felt it before, out on Truer Island before I had to fight that monster and there was an explosion,” Aunt Cass snapped back at me.
“If you’d felt it before, why did you ask if it was me?”
“I hoped it was you,” Aunt Cass said.
The details around exactly what Aunt Cass had fought were quite vague, not because she was being her usual secretive self but because it was difficult to explain exactly what it was. That it was magical was undeniable. Aunt Cass had said it looked wrong in our reality and she’d fought against it, casting one desperate last spell which had resulted in an explosion that excavated a hole about half a mile across and flattened the trees out on Truer Island. Aunt Cass had had to freeze herself to protect herself from it and it had taken us some time to find her stuck out there in the mud.
“So you fought a monster back then and you think this is another monster?” I asked.
“It could be. That’s why it’s good you’re here so we can go training,” Aunt Cass said.
I groaned and hung my head, but both Mom and Aunt Cass weren’t having any of it.
“You’re going to go, Harlow, because you have the morning off and you need to do it,” Mom said, quite sharply. She went back to washing some dishes, clanging the spoons and knives around.