The Darkly Stewart Mysteries: Light and Darkly

by DG Wood

  Vincetti leapt back up and slammed the door shut and locked it. He stood there in the dark for a second before turning on the light to notice blood pouring from his forehead in the mirror.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

  Vincetti grabbed some toilet paper off the roll and pressed it against his wound. It was then that the initial shock wore off and he remembered he was wearing a gun. He pulled it free of its holster and looked around him. The window was easily big enough that he could crawl out of it. He stepped into the bathtub and pushed up the window.

  Thanks to the embankment on that side of the house, the drop down from the second story was only half a story. The growl that Vincetti heard outside the door was all the inspiration he needed to wiggle out the window in about two seconds and jump to the ground, where he next heard wood splintering. He felt his pockets. Damn, his car keys were in his jacket. Vincetti didn’t look back. He just ran for the cover of woods.

  Vincetti ran for what must have been a quarter of a mile at the fastest speed he could maintain, before he collapsed out of breath. He scrambled behind a tree and covered his body with fallen leaves. Then he listened. There was the whir of a far-off semi moving down the highway, then the click-clack of a commuter train. Vincetti forced himself to quiet his breathing to silent.

  After ten minutes, he knew it was time to move again, to find his way to the road. He stood up, and it was then that a snap of a twig about a hundred feet behind him shattered the silence like a canon. Vincetti flattened himself against the tree, held his gun at the ready and waited for the next closer snap.

  He was breathing heavily. He forced himself to calm, but that had the opposite effect intended. The noise of it only seemed to increase in volume. He had to get control of himself. He would kill the creature. He would kill them all if he had to.

  But the breathing wasn’t coming from him. He looked ahead and saw movement in the darkness. A darker shade of night that shifted position swiftly. He may not be able to see it clearly, but he knew it could see and smell him. It had his scent. The beast stepped into the rays of moonlight that made it through the autumn canopies. Vincetti got a full look at the large wolf. It’s silver green eyes, it’s yellow fangs. It was moving low to the ground, deliberately with its eyes focused on Vincetti’s. Wyatt had run ahead of the sergeant and circled back to cut him off.

  Vincetti raised his shaking hand to shoot. The wolf was now only fifteen feet from the kill. Just before Vincetti was to fire, Wyatt the wolf crumpled to the ground and began crawling in a circle, like he was trying to bury himself. The wolf howled and covered its face with its paws.

  “Lower your weapon, sergeant.”

  Darkly’s voice came from behind Vincetti. Behind the tree.

  “It can’t harm you now. It’s under our control. Please, sergeant.”

  Vincetti slowly lowered his weapon, as William and Ennis jogged past him pointing their flashlights at Wyatt the wolf, who was in agony, but growing stiller. Vincetti noticed that Ennis had a small gold metal tube in his mouth, that the older man was blowing into. Darkly moved to Vincetti’s side.

  “Watch.”

  Wyatt the wolf passed out from pain and remained still.

  “What?” was all Vincetti could muster.

  “Shhh,” Darkly silenced him. “Just watch.”

  Vincetti watched. Ennis removed the metal tube from his mouth but kept it close, ready to blow into it again. It wouldn’t be necessary. The wolf appeared to melt into the ground. The hair contracted, or was it fell off the body? The man, Wyatt, whom Vincetti had met less than half an hour before was emerging from a coat of fur until all that remained was his naked body in the forest.

  Ennis walked over to Vincetti and gave him a once-over.

  “Clearly no harm done.”

  Ennis held the gold metal tube in front of Vincetti.

  “My own invention. A wolf whistle. Thanks to the man you see lying on the forest floor over there, I have tested it to perfection. They can be controlled.”

  “Shall we go back inside?” suggested William. “I’m sure the good sergeant is finally ready to ask questions.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “So, you’re telling me they want us all to become like them?” Vincetti asked, still wrapping his head around all this.

  Wyatt sat on Vincetti’s sofa, wearing a blanket and devouring a pizza.

  “Werewolves, yes,” said Darkly, as though the word was now a common noun in the modern lexicon. “I don’t suppose you could loan him some clothes?”

  “What? Oh, yeah, sure.”

  “Sergeant,” William broke in, “Darkly needs someone to cover for her and to open doors before she arrives. You put her back undercover, and only you know the true nature of the mission.”

  “And what do you do when you find one?” Vincetti asked the obvious.

  Darkly hadn’t contemplated the answer to Vincetti’s question before. What did she do? She wasn’t licensed to kill. She didn’t want to kill anyone. Survival wasn’t a crime. Why was she going after them? What was wrong with letting them get on with it? Eventually, there would be a tipping point, and all would find its way into the open organically. Oh, that’s right, she thought. Then panic, social and economic collapse, war between wolves and humans, with no studio left standing to make a movie about it. It would make the Salem witch trials look like a child’s slumber party.

  “Every Mountie gets her man,” Darkly said confidently. “I’ll bring them home.”

  “How are you going to do that?”

  “I’ll become their alpha.”

  Darkly met Vincetti on the ferry to Centre Island. She leaned her head over the railing and let the wind rushing across the water strike her face. It was cold. It felt good. She was heading to the land of eternal sunshine. Who knew when she would experience seasons again. Vincetti slid up next to her.

  Darkly turned to her sergeant and pulled him to her. She kissed him, sliding her tongue into his reluctant then willing mouth. A mother hurried her children past the lovers, hoping they wouldn’t call the kissers out and bring even more attention to an uncomfortable public display of affection.

  Darkly broke free of Vincetti’s lips.

  “You were being obvious,” Darkly reprimanded her superior. “We’re a couple going for a stroll on the islands. I won’t like what you’re going to tell me this afternoon, and we’ll return on separate ferries. I’ll be in tears.”

  “You’re not in L.A. yet, Darkly.”

  “Undercover is undercover. Always on. If not, mistakes happen. Covers are blown.”

  Darkly knew the lecture would disguise her true intent. She was working Vincetti. She was about to rely on him for travel papers, contacts, and possibly rescue from extreme situations. She was betting Vincetti found her more than a little fascinating upon learning of her furry heritage. A little attention thrown his way now would make him go that extra mile to ensure there was a future to see where all this goes. Even if Vincetti knew he was being played, Darkly felt confident enough in her own charms to believe he would welcome it.

  Darkly and Vincetti disembarked. The happy couple rented a pedal carriage and traversed the island under the colors of autumn. During which, Vincetti filled Darkly in on her upcoming travel. He handed over a manila envelope, which Darkly folded and slid into her large handbag.

  “I’ve arranged a US passport for you and proper identification for your friend. He’s a legal person now.”

  “Wyatt’s not my friend. He’s a killer with a lobotomy,” Darkly objected.

  “Whatever you say. There’s a contact on the LAPD. Her name’s Kathy Gutierrez. Do not contact her unless you absolutely need to. America is a bureaucracy first and foremost. Even answering the phone will require filling out a dozen forms on her part, and I’m running low on favors with her. Don’t piss her off.”

  “Got it.”

  They sat in silence for the next couple of minutes until Vincetti ended it.

  “Darkly, wars are
lost after the fact from a badly planned peace. What happens when you bring these…people home?”

  “My father and Ennis are working on that now. There’s a remote tribe in Alberta. They have the same problem as…”

  “Your people?” Vincetti asked cheekily.

  Darkly smiled.

  “Yes. A shrinking gene pool. Perhaps they can help each other out. Ennis’s people have experience with shapeshifters.”

  Vincetti stopped pedaling.

  “Enough. I don’t want to know what else is out there. I’ve got enough problems bringing drug dealers and sex traffickers to justice. You deal with that shit.”

  “Deal. Now, we should probably have our fight.”

  But, the fight did not come. The pedal carriage led to a paddle boat and then ice cream together on the ferry home. Dinner at the Beaconsfield Pub by Darkly’s house came afterwards. Dinner was followed by pints and a buzzed walk home.

  Darkly stood with Vincetti at her door, the key in its hole.

  “That was quite the prolonged break-up,” Vincetti joked.

  “I’m afraid this isn’t working for me. I can’t see you again.”

  Darkly smiled and disappeared inside. Vincetti turned to leave, but before he could take a step, Darkly had opened the door and reached out for his arm. She pulled him inside and pushed him up against the closed door. She leapt into his arms, wrapped her legs around his waist and grabbed his tongue between her lips.

  “Now time for the break-up sex.”

  Vincetti carried Darkly to her sofa and threw her down. He quickly peeled her jeans off her and buried his face between her legs. Darkly had not been with a man since her first visit to Wolf Woods, and it didn’t take long for her succumb to her sergeant’s talents.

  Darkly pulled Vincetti up on top of her and kissed him deeply while she undid his belt. Just grabbing hold of him made her feel a wave of pleasure.

  But, as she was about to guide him into her - she hoped repeatedly through the night - another thought crept into her mind. The cure. Since removing the medallion that saved her from the curse, her senses had become more acute. Other changes, too, had occurred. Animalistic tendencies. She had even found herself resisting the urge to hunt. She had followed a young office worker from downtown to the suburbs one night, overcome by the desire to taste him. As in bite him. She withdrew at the last minute, stopping herself from pounding on his front door and settling for rare calf’s liver and onions.

  “Stop!” she shouted.

  With the changes occurring within her, did that mean she could now spread the curse? She pushed Vincetti off her, and he toppled over onto the floor.

  “Seriously, Darkly?”

  “You need to leave.”

  “What the hell?”

  Darkly pulled her jeans back on and pulled Vincetti up off the floor. He stood there, naked from the waist down. She wanted what she saw, but she had the public good to think about. It took precedence even over primal instincts.

  “Be grateful you aren’t any bigger. Another half inch, and you might have found me chaining you up in the basement each full moon. We can’t take a chance.”

  With Vincetti fully dressed, sexually frustrated, and in an uber headed home, Darkly spent what she assumed would be the last night in her apartment for a long time. What did her in-between state mean for her love life? If she slept with a mere human, she risked spreading the disease. If she slept with a wolf, she risked catching a disease she sometimes thought she desired and other times didn’t. There are condoms. But condoms are never one hundred percent effective. This was getting complicated.

  Darkly’s father saw her off at the airport. He handed her the wolf whistle Ennis had designed. She wasn’t going to rely on that alone.

  William sat next to Darkly, while she waited for her flight to board. Being a distinguished, retired RCMP constable had its privileges, like passing through security without a boarding pass and both father and daughter moving through the airport’s US Customs with little more than a nod. Dealing with such formalities on the Canadian side of the border made Darkly’s and every other traveler’s journey a hell of a lot easier.

  “Your mother is planning a Victorian Christmas this year.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Extra work for me.”

  Darkly knew her father was planning their next meeting like a self-fulfilling prophecy. She gave him what he was fishing for.

  “I’ll be there.”

  “Good.”

  The pre-boarding announcement for Darkly’s flight to L.A. broke the moment of family bonding.

  “Darkly.”

  “Dad.”

  William took the hand of the only daughter he had ever known.

  “From my time in the arctic, I learned that those we fear are sometimes the ones who need protecting the most.”

  William watched his daughter board the plane and then left, certain Darkly’s task would not be completed before Christmas.

  Darkly had been to Los Angeles in the past for an international law enforcement conference. She had not found it to be the odd mix of ambition and delusion she had read about. To her, it was Americana at its purest. Suburban neighborhoods, swimming pools, dream factories and eternal sunshine. It was the movies come to life.

  Vincetti’s reach extended to L.A., and he had arranged for her first guardian angel to meet her. Darkly stepped into the line at the Starbucks in Terminal 7 of LAX. She spotted the nametag of the young African-American preparing what looked like a cappuccino. She walked past the cash register and leaned on the counter to speak with Xander.

  “Do you know what a double-double is?” she asked him.

  Darkly’s code words for announcing her arrival were commonplace where she was from. But in America, two sugars and two creams were just that and nothing shorter.

  Xander looked up and said without hesitation, “Lady, are you hitting on me?”

  Darkly covered her jaw with her hand, as the sensation of a toothbrush made with bristles of steel wool spread across the roof of her mouth. She forced a smile for the killer standing in front of her and regained her composure.

  “Never mind,” Darkly replied and walked away.

  Darkly ended up at one of the baggage carousels and waited for a bag that wasn’t coming. After five minutes of standing, she spotted several seats at the last exit on the arrivals level and parked herself.

  As the last person on her flight left with their luggage, Xander appeared, holding a small brown paper bag with the iconic Starbucks mermaid on it. He dropped the bag in the garbage can next to the row of seats Darkly was planted on, then walked out the exit without looking at her.

  Darkly took another look around, got up and with the speed of a toddler on sugar, yanked the bag out of the garbage and opened it to remove a croissant. She bit into the bread and glanced up at the security camera that hovered over that part of the airport, then followed the licensed killer out the exit. This was an easy assignment for him, Darkly thought, as Xander stopped to light a cigarette. Darkly walked past him, holding the croissant for him to clearly see, but not making eye contact. She parted the heavy airport traffic at a crosswalk and headed for the parking structure directly across from arrivals.

  Once Darkly was in the elevator, she tore the croissant apart to remove an automobile key fob. The elevator beeped at the second level, and Darkly got off. She walked down the aisles of cars, pressing the red alarm button on the key fob. Nothing. On the third level, Darkly struck gold and climbed into a blue Toyota Prius.

  With the doors locked, Darkly opened the glove compartment and removed a small handgun, which she dropped into her oversized handbag full of toiletries and clean panties. Also in the glove compartment, was an iPhone and a wad of fifty dollar bills.

  Darkly plugged the phone into the console and opened the navigation app. She tapped the only entry in the history and started the engine.

  Paul Nabor loved being a scoutmaster. It was something normal and who
lesome in a town that dreaded the usual. He had risen all the way to Eagle Scout himself back in Indiana, and he was determined to stay involved in the organization whether his girlfriend and he ended up having kids or not. Paul discovered that many of his friends remembered their Boy Scout days fondly, and were eager to turn their sons over to Paul’s care once a week. A Good Nabor, they called him.

  Paul’s yearly night hike through Griffith Park had become legendary. On its fifth anniversary, a local news crew accompanied the kids, and then everyone wanted to put their son in Paul’s troop. He now had a waiting list.

  On this autumn night, Paul led the troop up one of the wide trails that would eventually bring them to the base of Griffith Observatory. The canyon trail was noisy with coyote and insect calls. Upon setting off, Paul had encouraged the boys to only think of the flashlight as a tool to stop them from tripping on a root. The real experience would come through their ears. Without the distraction of too much sight, the world of the night would open itself up to the boys, and they would understand that the second largest city in the country was full of wild things.

  They had no idea how wild things could get.

  Darkly followed the GPS to a flat above Echo Lake Reservoir. It took her a further twenty minutes driving around the neighborhood to find a parking spot. But, three hours after sundown, Darkly found herself at a front door with an electronic keypad above the keyhole. She opened the notes app on her phone and found the only note, which was six numbers, each divided by a space.

  Darkly punched the numbers into the keypad, and the whir of a tumbler turning told her the apartment was hers. She turned the doorknob and walked into a comfortable one-bedroom with all the amenities of home. Darkly even found a full fridge. She inspected a cold bottle of bubble tea. There was little she found quite so upsetting as opaque drinks. Darkly’s tastes were definite and unaccommodating.

  Darkly gave herself a tour of the living and sleeping areas. Xander, or another agent from a service Darkly knew better than to question, had put fresh sheets on the bed and stocked the bathroom with anything an undercover cop might need on assignment, including boxes of hair color of every possible shade.