by D. J. Bodden
Jonas realized his mouth was hanging open. It wasn’t really the story, it was the casual way in which Frank was telling it, like he was giving Jonas directions to a grocery store.
“So, by the end of the third night, Jim’s cracked — safety’s off on his brain. He doesn’t sleep or eat the whole day. Fourth night comes around, he walks out of his cell, meek as a lamb, walks up to the table and takes the knife from the vampire without fighting it, then stabs the bloodsucker through the eye. All because his mind was so twisted that the vamp couldn’t control him anymore. So the Puppeteer — laughing and stumbling around with a knife handle sticking out of its skull — says, ‘Yes, that’s it! You understand completely,’ and then turns to ash.”
Frank delivered the last bit like a punch line. When Jonas didn’t laugh, he said, “It’s funnier when Jim tells it. Anyway, Jim cuts his remaining friend loose — Terry Owens, a good man, but he doesn’t hunt anymore — and they walk out of there together. Hasn’t been a vamp since that could get into Jimmy’s head. Not without side-effects, anyway… what were we talking about, again?”
“How he manages to be so cheerful all the time,” Jonas said, feeling a little sick.
“Oh yeah. Well, after that, why not be cheerful?”
Jonas shook his head. He supposed it made sense, in a twisted sort of way. He rolled out of bed and headed for the kitchen. But before he made it out of the bedroom, Frank said, “Hey, kid?”
“What?”
“We’ve all got stories like Jimmy’s. All of us. Try to remember that when you think we’re being biased, or bigoted, or whatever it was you called me.” He rolled back over on his bedroll.
“I’m sorry. I was just—”
“Don’t mention it. Really, don’t,” Frank said, and laughed at his own joke.
Jonas walked to the living room and was greeted by the smell of cooking meat. Kieran was on the floor in front of the dining table, something Jim had cobbled together from the broken pieces, working his way through a plate of raw meat. He grabbed chunks with his hands and tore into them with his teeth. Several of the hunters watched him eat, a mixture of horror and fascination written on their faces.
“Oh, hey Jonas.” Jim said, from the kitchen. “Kieran brought venison, which is good because we were running low on food.”
“I’m not eating meat a wolf brought down,” Billy said.
Kieran shrugged. “More for me,” he said, around a mouthful of meat. A dribble of blood ran down his chin.
Jim sighed. “Kieran, did you bite this thing before you dressed it?”
“Nope. Claws only,” Kieran said, before picking up another large piece of venison.
“See, perfectly safe,” Jim said. “So how about it, Jonas? Steak and eggs?”
Jonas felt his stomach rumble. He hadn’t eaten solid food in days, and wasn’t sure he could still keep it down, but it smelled delicious. That, and he needed to find a way to bridge the gap between Kieran and the hunters. “Sure, I’m starving.”
“How do you want it?”
“Medium and over-easy, please.” Jonas sat across the table from Kieran and looked around the room. Eugene was on the couch, reading as usual. Since arriving, he’d already finished two of the three books Jonas had bought. Steve, the younger hunter, was sitting on the couch reading a gun magazine and trying very hard to look relaxed. He was the youngest person in the room, aside from Jonas and Kieran.
Jim got busy cooking, occasionally participating in conversations by throwing in a comment or a joke. Curious, Jonas tried to see if his thoughts were that different from anyone else’s, but he quickly thought better of it; just looking at Jim with his mind was uncomfortable. He felt like the man’s thoughts were actually trying to draw him in. Jim turned, gave Jonas a wink, and went back to cooking.
Billy was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, mouth tight, staring at Kieran. Frank had said they all had stories; maybe Billy’s involved werewolves. Regardless, there wasn’t much Jonas could do about it.
“Here you go, Jonas,” Jim said. “Had this one already started.” He put a plate in front of him with a half-inch steak the size of his hand, two eggs, and a sprig of parsley. It looked like something you’d see in a food magazine.
“Wow, thanks.”
It tasted as good as it looked. The eggs were perfect. Jonas had never had venison, but it tasted like beef with a sweet tanginess that was hard to describe. The seasoning was just right, and Jonas scarfed it down, eating only a tad slower than Kieran. “Thanks, Jim. It’s really good.”
Kieran paused and sniffed. “That smells amazing. Is that brown sugar?”
Jim gave him a wide smile. “It is. You want one?”
“Yes, please. Rare.”
“Where’d you get the steak, Jimmy? Can I get one of those?” said Frank, walking out of the bedroom.
“It’s deer. Wolf killed it, Frank,” said Billy, nodding toward Kieran.
“You bite it?” Frank asked.
“Claws,” Kieran said again, his mouth full.
“Figure it’s pretty safe then, Billy. I’ll take mine medium-well, Jim.”
“Coming right up,” Jim said cheerfully. He had several pans going already.
“Forget safe, Frank,” Billy said, unable to let it go. “Bad enough we—”
“Hey Kieran,” Jim said, interrupting. “That true, what you said about the silver nitrate?”
“Mmm hmm.”
“How’d that feel?”
Kieran swallowed, “It hurt a lot, for the first year and a half.” He leaned back, eying Jim curiously.
Jonas watched them both, wondering where Jim was going with this.
“You mind indulging my friend here, and eating with a knife and fork like a human being?” Jim said to Kieran, his eyes on Billy.
Jonas tensed.
Frank said, “Jim what are you—” Jim shook his head, and Frank frowned, but went quiet.
“Two steaks?” Kieran said.
“Two steaks,” Jim said solemnly. He brought a fork over to the table, then turned to Billy and said, “Hey Billy, lend us your knife, would you?”
“What? Are you crazy?”
“Just throw me the damn knife, Billy” Jim said, showing signs of losing his patience.
Billy shrugged and tossed a small black object to Jim.
Jim flicked his hand, and a three-inch silver blade snapped out. “Here you go, Kieran.”
CHAPTER 23
Kieran looked dubiously at the silver knife. “It still tingles a little.”
“Two steaks, and the recipe for the dry rub if we live through this,” Jim said.
Kieran smiled, and attacked the remaining piece of meat with gusto. He showed no signs of being affected by the knife — Jonas wasn’t sure if a normal werewolf would have died or just broken into hives — and finished his plate in two minutes. Jonas looked down, and realized he’d been frozen with the fork halfway to his mouth.
“Thanks, Kieran, you’re a good sport,” said Jim, and put two barely-seared steaks in front of him. He pointed a spatula at Billy and said, “Mission first, Billy.”
“Mission first,” a few of the others echoed.
Kieran turned to Billy, held up the knife, and said, “You mind if I hang on to this for a minute? Steaks are hot, don’t want to burn my hands.”
Eugene chuckled.
Billy sighed. “I’d rather you didn’t. Nothin’ personal, s’just my good knife.” He walked over, took his knife back, and sat on the floor between Kieran and Frank. “I’ll have one of those steaks, though, Jim. Small one, well-done.”
Jim nodded.
The tension left the room — not that Eugene had ever looked up from his book. After a few minutes, Billy leaned over and muttered something to Kieran.
“Don’t worry about it,” Kieran said, speaking softly. “I’d rather be treated like a wolf than a lapdog.”
♚
Phillip came by at 10 a.m. and Jonas brought him up to speed on e
verything that had happened so far, and their plan to retake the Agency. Phillip was hesitant at first, but when he found out Jonas had a specter onboard, and that Kieran was going with or without him, he agreed to help.
“We should do a test run first, though. Make sure everything’s working,” Phillip said.
I’m not a radio, Mr. Macready. You don’t need to test the transmission, Madoc replied.
“I’m not worried about you. I’m more concerned about my children working with hunters,” Phillip said.
♚
That’s how Jonas and Amelia found themselves strolling through Central Park in the late afternoon.
Jonas glanced her way. “Feels like a normal Sunday, doesn’t it?”
“No,” Amelia said. “It feels like we’re dangling on the end of a hook. Where’s your friend? Kieran, right?”
“I thought it would be better if he kept his distance.”
“And he just does what you tell him to?”
“We talked about it, he agreed. He can get to us quickly if he needs to.” Jonas was well aware of his tenuous status as the leader of the group without Amelia reminding him. He’d had to convince Kieran that he’d be able to see everything through Madoc, and that the sight of a winter wolf would ruin any chance of the Order attacking them, like they wanted.
Amelia turned and looked back over her shoulder. “They’ve got to know this is a trap.”
“Probably. But all they know for sure is that I’m working with hunters,” Jonas said. “Besides, they’ve been following us for an hour.”
“What? Where?” Amelia said, looking back again.
“Stop looking!” Jonas said.
“I didn’t see anything, anyway,” Amelia said. “Are you just messing with me?”
Jonas considered telling her that the people following them were thralls — normal looking humans — but Amelia was freaked out enough as it was. “Can’t you just enjoy the walk? We’re perfectly safe.” It was a nice day, though a bit colder than it’d been recently. They both wore scarves with their coats.
Amelia stopped. “You’re kidding, right? I mean, you dumped me, I saw people die, there were werewolves everywhere, and vampires. Plus you’re a vampire, and you call me to go for a walk? I wasn’t planning on leaving my house again, ever!”
“You’re safer here than at home,” Jonas said.
“I know that, Jonas!” Amelia said, sighing in exasperation. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath. “You don’t have to treat me like a child. Do you think I’m stupid?”
“What? No!” Jonas said.
“Well, I’m glad you’re taking it so well, but I’m allowed to feel like cowering at home like a normal person. It’s what humans do. And I think it’s a load of crap that you’re laying on the Zen routine so thick, considering how you handled your dad’s death.”
Jonas stumbled. It felt like she’d stuck a knife between his shoulder blades. But it was true, he was expecting a lot of her, more than he would have expected of himself while coming to grips with his dad’s disappearance. And Amelia was mourning too, in a way. She’d invested two years in Jonas, and lost her comfortable, planned-out future in a single day.
“I’m sorry; that was bitchy,” Amelia said.
“It’s okay. I deserved it.”
She thought about it. “Yeah, you did, but that’s not the person I want to be.”
Jonas looked at Amelia, feeling a moment of fondness for his ex-girlfriend. It wasn’t enough to get them back together; there were practical problems, like the fact that he’d probably outlive her by several hundred years. But, even after losing the desire to see her naked, and having dodged her life-planning obsession, he’d still come to the conclusion that he liked her. Whether she liked him enough to remain his friend or not was a different story.
“What are you thinking?” she said.
“That I haven’t been a very good friend.”
They walked in silence for a minute, then she said, “So, what Kieran said about you being a vampire…”
“It’s true,” Jonas said.
Amelia licked her lips. “And you drink blood? From humans?”
Jonas smiled, remembering the first time he’d asked his mother the same question. “No, from a bag, mostly, but I hear wineglasses are nice, too.”
Amelia swallowed hard and unconsciously moved further away from him.
They’re making their move, Madoc said.
“It’s starting,” Jonas said, finding a bench to sit on. Madoc linked him into the overhead picture. There were twenty werewolves and thralls, in total, and the whole group was converging on him and Amelia’s location.
“Can you ask him to show me, too?” Amelia said.
“Are you sure you—”
“I want to see it, Jonas. You can spend the next ten years telling me I’m safe, or you can prove it.”
I’m linking her in, now be quiet unless you need something, Madoc said. And that goes for both of you.
It was as if they were hovering over the city, except the ground, the buildings, and the people, were all rendered as clear, gray glass. Twenty of the humanoid shapes were tinted red, riding in vans, in train cars beneath the streets, or jogging down the park sidewalks toward the two teenagers. Also visible, in pairs or alone, in crowds or on rooftops, were thirty-four blue shapes — Phillip’s kin, and hunters, working together. As the red shapes closed in, the blue shapes merged with them — a knife in the crowd, someone pushed into an oncoming subway, a gunshot from a balcony… one by one, in quick succession, the red shapes winked out.
Amelia gasped. “Oh my God! Was that Frank? Did he just—?”
It’s over, Madoc said. No transmissions back to the Agency, no survivors, zero casualties on our side. Good work, everybody.
Jonas felt a wave of excitement rushing through the network of connected minds, before Madoc broke off communications.
A few minutes later, Jonas spotted Phillip and Kieran walking toward them.
“It went perfectly,” Phillip said, beaming. “Haven’t had that much fun in years.”
Kieran’s eyes were on his father, and he had a satisfied smile on his face.
“So you’ll help us fight?” Jonas asked.
Phillip waved his hand dismissively. “Of course, but we need to talk about what’s going to happen after that. Would you mind if Kieran walked your friend home?”
“What?” Amelia said.
“It’s okay, you’ll be even safer with him than you were with me,” Jonas said, smiling. “Right, Kieran?”
“Absolutely,” Kieran said, offering Amelia his arm. Jonas felt himself prickle a little at the werewolf’s newfound confidence. Don’t be an idiot, Kieran’s earned it, he thought, as they walked away.
“Heard you were with Eve now. Having second thoughts?” Phillip asked, wagging his eyebrows.
Jonas sighed. “No. Things are just moving really fast. You and Kieran seem to be getting along well. So, what did you want to talk about?”
Phillip clapped a hand on his shoulder. “You’re the new clan leader of the only winter wolf in existence, that we know of, and the other clans are going to have something to say about that. The elders will want to meet you, and…”
Jonas listened as Phillip went on about the intricacies of werewolf law and politics. It sounded like a nightmare.
“I’m just glad you’ll be there to advise me,” Jonas said.
Phillip grinned.
♚
Monday was calm. Amelia went to school, but not Jonas. He stayed home, courtesy of Mr. Edwards. He finished the first of his books and started on the second. He’d done more drills with Sam and his imaginary army. They were getting better, but Jonas was exhausted.
Eugene went to work, as did Mr. Edwards. Frank stayed with Jonas, never leaving his side, unless Kieran was in the room.
As for Kieran, he spent most of his time eating and sleeping. When Jonas asked him about it, Kieran said, “My father’s idea to create a winter w
olf was to deny a werewolf’s instincts: fighting, eating, and breeding. Of course, breeding wasn’t much of a problem; that doesn’t usually happen until after our first change, anyway. I went through Agency training to work on the fighting part.”
Kieran paused to stuff the rest of a sandwich in his mouth, chewed, and drained a glass of water. “For the last bit, I starved myself. That’s why I’m so small. My brothers and sisters thought I was too weak to fight for my own share, so they took even more. Anyway, I’ll slow down after a while. I just want to know what it feels like to be full for a few days.”
Kieran picked up his plate and walked to the fridge.
“What made your dad think of that? Denying your instincts?”
“It’s an old story,” Kieran said, and went back to eating. He wouldn’t say anything else on the subject.
Phillip told Jonas that Fangston had been calling him all night, but that he hadn’t answered. “That demon’s got to be hopping mad by now. They don’t deal well with rejection.”
Most of the hunters and werewolves were out for the day, set in ambush positions around the Agency and watching all the bridges leading out of the city. Nobody tried to get out, however, one team did intercept two werewolves in a hearse trying to sneak into the warded area. They had three Order vampires in the back.
You’re sure they’re with the Order? Jonas asked.
Yes, I heard them talking, Madoc said.
Phillip’s pack took the werewolves somewhere for safekeeping; they were juveniles like the rest. As for the vampires, Jim and Billy opened the coffins in broad daylight, then dumped the ashes in the river.
Jonas was almost bored. He wasn’t making decisions anymore, just sitting on the couch watching Fangston’s men get cut down. It made him uneasy at first, but then became a morbid kind of math — every member of the Order who died in an ambush improved the odds of a successful strike against the Agency.