We ended up in a middle-class neighborhood in a suburb about twenty miles north of the city. We entered a gated condo complex, and Toni parked her bike in an outside spot next to a one-car garage. She pulled a remote out of her pocket and the door of the garage opened. Inside it was another bike, a red Honda CBR1000RR.
She got off her bike, and I pulled into an empty spot a few stalls down.
“C’mon—I’ll get the keys to the Honda and you can move your car into the garage.”
I followed her into a second-floor condo. It was spotless. I was worried about even sitting down. The decorations and furnishings were modern, and the place went together like something from a magazine. I preferred the girls’ place; it was still put together, but in a lived-in sort of way. It was one of those places that you instantly felt comfortable in.
Toni set her helmet on a glass-topped table in the kitchen, went over to a row of hooks above a cordless phone base and pulled off a key chain. “Here you go. It’s got some miles on it, but runs like a champ.”
“Wow, thanks.” I took the key and put it in my pocket.
“No problem. Just bring it back in one piece. I think I have a helmet somewhere that will fit you.” She walked down a hallway, then came back a minute later with a white helmet that looked like it would work. She set it down on the table next to hers. I didn’t ask whose it was.
“Can I get you something to drink?”
I said sure, and followed her into the kitchen. Her wall calendar showed timber wolves rolling in the snow. She opened the fridge and took out a couple of bottled carbonated juice drinks, handing me one.
We sat down at the table, taking sips off our drinks. Toni leaned back in her chair and studied me for a few moments. “Jesus, Chance—you’re in deep.”
“Yeah, seems like it,” I said, thinking the same thing myself. I was really hoping Lacey had come up with something today that would get me out of this mess, or I was going to have to try something like running and trying to find a place to hide the thing, and that didn’t seem like such a good plan.
“Why not just give Powers the urn and be done with it? He’s ruthless, but I doubt he’s psychotic. I’m sure if you give it to him he’ll leave you alone. Well, pretty sure.”
“Can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because I gave my word I would destroy it, or at least make sure that no one ever finds it. It’s a job. I took payment. I don’t go back on my word.”
“Morals like that will get you killed.” She smiled. “But it’s why I like you. You’ve got balls, even if they are going to keep getting you in all sorts of trouble.” She considered something for a moment. “Tell you what—I might know someone who can help.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Maybe. But just because he could help doesn’t mean he will. We’re not exactly on the best of terms.”
“Fair enough. At this point I’m willing to consider all my options. So why are you helping me out? Not that I’m complaining, mind you.”
“What have I actually done? Let you steal my ride a couple of times? Lent you a six-year-old bike for a few days? Introduced you to an acquaintance?” She laughed. “It ain’t much, Chance.”
“Still…”
“Yeah, I know; and I don’t play coy like those vamps. I don’t have three centuries to wait for someone to get the punch line. One thing you’ll find out about me is that I tell it like it is.
“So why am I helping you?” She looked up. “One, I don’t like guys like Powers who think that just because they have some money they can do whatever they want to whoever they want. Two, it’s going to piss off the vamps.”
“What is—you helping me?”
“Yup. Trust me. For some reason they’ve, like, adopted you or something, and my helping you out will bug the hell out of them.”
I thought it best not to tell her that I only knew one vamp, and that one had intentionally kept the others from even knowing that I existed.
“Three, ‘cause you stole my bike. Twice. My new bike. The one that no one but me had ever even sat on before, let alone ridden. And I haven’t had a chance to come up with a fitting punishment.” She leaned back with her hands behind her head. I looked at her tank top and started thinking of a bunch of fitting punishments that would work. She caught me out of the corner of her eye, but just smiled. “And, four. Like I said before, I like you. Guys like you are rare.”
“Like me?”
“Yeah—the kind who does what he thinks is right despite what everyone else thinks, and looks good while doing it. “She winked at me. “So, I have to work for an hour or two, but afterward, what say we go visit that guy I know and see what he says?”
“Work?”
“Yeah, you know—it’s this annoying thing people do in exchange for money. Like the detective, I have to earn a living.”
“Yeah, sure; of course.” I guess not all of the monsters lurking in the city were as well off as Megan and Lacey. “Crap. It’s Monday, isn’t it.”
“All day. I had cleared most of the appointments I had this afternoon when I got your e-mail, but I have a customer call I can’t get out of. Like I said, it should only take an hour or two. I can do it in my bedroom. You can watch TV out here.”
“Oh, hey.” She pulled out a cell phone. “Before I forget, what’s your number?” She turned the phone so its back pointed at me as I told her, and I was pretty sure a picture of me just ended up on her phone.
“What do you do?” I asked.
“Sales rep for a pharmaceutical company out of Atlanta. I get to work from home, have somewhat flexible hours, and I get to take free trips to my customers in places like Fresno and Bakersfield. What’s not to love? Remote’s on the coffee table.” She walked down the hall to her room.
I looked at the off-white couch with some trepidation, but my clothes were clean. I hadn’t even had the opportunity to wash them, just pulled off the tags this morning and put them on.
I sat down and took out my own phone, calling Game Shack to tell them I wouldn’t be able to come in for a couple of days. I had built up enough goodwill with the manager to get away with it. Then I called my mom and got her voice mail. I remembered Lacey had put her number in my phone, so I called her, hoping she had heard something.
She answered with, “Chance, where are you?” She sounded worried.
“I told you I was going to get my car back.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“Um, yeah, I did.”
“Oh, I must not have heard you. So did you get it?”
“Not exactly.”
“You gonna be back for lunch?” I was pretty sure she had already eaten and was angling for me to bring her seconds.
“Nah, I just ate. I’m going to follow up on a lead for getting rid of the urn.”
“A lead? You need any help?”
“No, I should be all right; thanks, though. How about you—any luck?”
“No. Other than I’m now positive it’s one of Solomon’s urns.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah. I found a couple of descriptions in some books I borrowed, and they fit. I even came across a picture of it, if you can believe it. It’s an old drawing, not a high-res photo or anything, but it’s good enough. Of course, I guess it could be just a clever forgery. Something that’s old, but not Solomon-old, you know?”
“All right. Well, call me if you find out anything.”
“’K, see ya later. Oh—Chance?”
“Yeah?”
“You might want to be home before Megan wakes up.”
“Will do.” I hung up and watched the news until Toni finished with her call. The commercials in California weren’t any better than the ones in Texas.
Chapter 15
We put my car in the garage, and I followed Toni on the CBR. It wasn’t as fast as the V-Max, but it was lighter, and handled like a dream.
I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t a large Gothic-looking Catholic church in a questio
nable part of downtown. It was in one of those areas real estate agents liked to describe as “up and coming.” There weren’t many cars parked out on the street, and we were able to pull up and park the bikes right in front of the building. I took my helmet off and set it down on the seat.
“A church?” I said, looking up at the stone structure. It had two square towers in front and a large dome to the rear. It was pretty ornate. It looked like a miniature of one of the great European cathedrals. I was skeptical, to say the least.
“Where else would you go for an exorcism?” she asked.
“Exorcism?”
“Didn’t you tell me you had a jar full of demons?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, okay then.” She walked up the steps to the pair of large wooden doors. It was so quiet out here that, for some reason, I had expected to find the church closed and its doors locked. They opened, however, with not even a squeak. We entered the church. It was large inside, and on this Monday afternoon, as quiet as a tomb. The whole thing was like an old-style European Gothic church, its grey stone walls somber, broken by the occasional brilliant stained-glass window. Two rows of wooden pews ran up to a raised dais, which sat just under a huge dome. There were additional rows of pews to the left and right of the dais and, to the rear, steps led up to a large podium.
The walls of the church and ceiling of the dome were decorated with paintings depicting Biblical scenes. At the top of the dome was a large blue stained-glass window. There were several alcoves set into the walls with statues of saints.
We looked around, but it wasn’t long before we figured out that the Father wasn’t in the cathedral. We found him next door, in a series of buildings that served as a community center and church offices. He was sitting at a desk, a computer to one side, talking to an elderly lady seated in front of him. They were discussing an upcoming fundraiser to pay for refinishing the basketball court and buying new playground equipment.
He looked familiar. It took me a second, because he definitely wasn’t dressed like I remembered him, but I placed him at the Deli a couple of days before. He was one of the ones that rode a hog. He had been sitting at the table with two members from each gang.
He saw us enter and smiled over at us. “Ah, Miss Caswell, it looks like my next appointment is here. I’m afraid we’ll have to chat about where to position the table for the bake sale some other time.”
“I just think it should be toward the front, where people will see it when they walk in,” she said. “I don’t see why we can’t put the silent auction tables behind us.”
“Yes, yes, we’ll make sure the table gets plenty of visibility.”
Miss Caswell left, but it was clear that the discussion wasn’t over. She would be back, energized and ready for the next round.
“This is Father Allen,” Toni supplied.
“So, it seems that you two have made up.” He raised his eyebrows, smiling, and got up, walking around his desk and extending his hand to me.
“Chance,” I said, and he shook my hand.
“Well, what brings you two here? I had expected maybe Toni, but I thought it would be in the confessional, perhaps to ask forgiveness for the murder of a would-be motorcycle thief?”
Toni smiled. “Sorry, Padre—I’m not the religious type.”
“Never too late to start. Still, the boy is alive and apparently well, so you must have decided not to kill him. Which, considering what he did, surprises me.” He motioned to the chairs in front of his desk, then suddenly looked caught somewhere between surprise and horror. “Oh, Lord, you’re not getting married, are you?”
I shook my head, and Toni said, “Not just yet. We thought we would hold off on the wedding until after a little problem we have is fixed.”
He sighed. “I’m a Catholic priest. I cannot condone the taking of a child’s life even if—”
“Jesus, Father, you know I wouldn’t get pregnant!”
He sighed. “I don’t know much of anything these days. Take a seat; tell me your problem. I assume if it is personal, then it has something to do with that big fellow who was chasing after Chance here?”
I guess I was staring, because Father Allen said, “Yes?”
“Sorry, it’s just…you’re a biker.”
“I ride a bike, yes. I find being on a bike, riding down the open roads, brings me a lot closer to God than traveling in a steel cage. Plus, I just like bikes.”
“And you’re a werewolf.” I could smell the faint wet-dog smell from him mingling with the similar and familiar scent of Toni.
He laughed, a short bark, and looked around, maybe to assure himself we were the only ones in the small office. “Direct, isn’t he? Now I see why you keep him around, Toni—you’re kindred spirits.”
He was smiling, but I could see the tension in his eyes as he looked at her. There was definitely some hostility between them. I didn’t know if it was personal, or just the ingrained animosity between the two gangs. He looked back at me, and it was gone. “Yes, I’m a biker, a werewolf, and a priest. So tell me, is it one in particular that you have come to see?”
“Is there a difference?” I asked.
“No, not really; I’m just curious why Toni brought you here. Our packs have had our differences, especially lately. So there must be something that warranted her coming over here to see me. Behind enemy lines, so to speak.”
“Packs?” Oh, I got it. “Seriously, packs?” Really, gangs sounded cooler, but at the looks they both shot me, I decided to keep that observation to myself. “Yeah, right. So, packs. Makes sense, I guess.”
“Chance needs you to perform an exorcism,” Toni said.
Now it was Father Allen’s turn to look like he just heard something pretty silly. “An exorcism? Sorry, Toni—I’m afraid if you bit him then he’s out of luck. An exorcism won’t work on what we have; they only work on demons.” Then he looked at me, almost as if in warning. “Our disease is incurable, I’m afraid. Trust me. I’ve tried it.”
“Your disease?” I asked.
“Lycanthropy,” Toni explained. “It’s a communicable disease. Spread with fluid exchange, like saliva or blood. Fortunately, it’s not too contagious, and it really only seems to spread if the fluids are exchanged while we’re changed. He hasn’t been bitten, Padre; it’s demons that we need exorcised.”
“Well done, my boy! Possession? It’s certainly a unique excuse to explain why you stole her bike. I’m just surprised she actually bought it.”
“Not me. I’m not the one possessed. It’s an urn.”
He looked at me, then lowered his forehead into his palm and began to slowly rub it. “Look. It’s been a long week.” He looked up and his eyes were almost pleading. “I’m trying to organize a carnival fundraiser. Do you have any idea how politically charged something like that can be? And then we had a meet between the two pa—” He stopped himself, smiling at me. “Groups of werewolves of the area, which, I might add, didn’t go as well as it could have, and now you come asking that I help you with possessed pottery? Seriously?”
I just shrugged. What could I say? I decided to change the topic. “So how many packs of you guys are there around here?”
“Just two,” said Toni.
“And frankly, that’s one too many,” said Father Allen. “Now, before I start asking uncomfortable questions, like why a regular Joe even knows we exist, please either explain yourself or get out of my office. I have work to do.”
So I told him basically the same story I had told Toni. I cut out Megan and Lacey because, if Toni was any indication, I didn’t think it would have been too smart to tell him about the company I keep. Priest or not, he gave me an uneasy feeling, like it was taking a lot of his will to keep something in check.
When I stopped, he looked at me and said, “A possessed urn, huh? I’ll have to talk to Rodriguez.”
“Why bring him into it?” said Toni.
“Because he’s Pack Alpha, and if I go get involved in something like this
without telling him first, it will be my hide.”
“Alpha?”
Allen sighed. “Toni, if you’re going to keep this cub around, please give him an education. I am a forgiving man, but others aren’t. The fact that he knows the things he does is dangerous for everyone. The fact that he asks uneducated questions which make it even more obvious is going to cut short his life span.”
He looked at me. “Son, at least try to play off that you aren’t in way over your head.”
“Last couple of days have been tough—my world’s been tweaked a bit on its axis—but I’ll do what I can.” I didn’t tell him the tweaking wasn’t because I just found out that monsters existed, but because I just found out that not all of them might be monsters.
“I’m sorry, it’s not your fault. I understand what you’re going through. Like I said, it’s just been a trying week. Look, each pack has an Alpha, a leader. If there is something that could endanger everyone, like crossing Jonathan Powers, the alpha needs to make the decision.”
“So, if this Rodriguez says it’s okay, then you’ll do it? Exorcise the urn?”
“Son, if it’s only one demon, then I know I could do it. I’ve done it before. I might even be able to do it if there’s three or four in there, but seventy-two? If we hit the mother lode, then I don’t have a clue. I guess that’s up to Him. But if Rodriguez says it’s okay then I will try. Because I certainly don’t want someone letting them loose on this earth.”
Chapter 16
Father Allen assured us he would ask Rodriguez for permission tonight. I left him my number, and we exited the office to see a group of elderly ladies conspiring near the steps. Toni suggested that we grab a beer, and I was way too thirsty to argue. Commute traffic was just starting, but she took us on a route that seemed to avoid the worst of it.
We ended up at a Mexican restaurant in a nice area, with a big outdoor patio and lots of tables with umbrellas. We grabbed a table outside and ordered a couple of beers. The waitress knew Toni by name. No Newcastle, so I made do with a Dos Equis and Toni had the same. The salsa was blissfully hot. I hated the mild stuff some of the places tried to pass off. If it didn’t set your moth on fire, what was the point?
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