When Wolves Howl: A Mayhem of Magic World Story (Bedlam in Bethlehem Book 2)

by Nicole Zoltack

  He doesn’t want me to know how to kill werewolves.

  The flash of insight doesn’t make me favor him any more than I already do.

  “Fine. Then do you know of a Blake Damon?”

  Rolf exits onto my porch and calls over his shoulder, “Come to South Mountain beneath the Star at midnight.”

  And he rushes away, running faster than a man should be able to, although not as fast as a vamp.

  Dumbfounded, I close the door and lock it. Vamps. Wolves. This Amarok. Why can’t things go back to being easy? Drugs and dealers and their shootings seem so much easier than all of this.

  But I’ve saved Bethlehem from vamps. I’ll save her from Amarok and whatever else threatens her, too.

  Chapter 10

  The next morning comes way too early for me. I have coffee before I make it into the station and head straight for the break room to pour myself more.

  Angelo, surprisingly, is already here at the station, and he directs me over to his desk. Rex’s things have been cleared away, so now I have a new computer and workstation right next to my new partner.

  I’m thrilled, let me tell ya.

  For the next hour, I take my time shifting over my few knickknacks from my old desk and setting up my new area. A framed picture of my parents and myself at the park. A goofy pic of me and Sam. A world map littered with red marks for all the places I want to see but probably never will. A few figurines—Cap’n America, Darth Vader, Deadpool to name a few. And my coffee cup. There. Better.

  “We have to find this demon guy,” Angelo says.

  “Damon. Blake Damon.”

  His grin is so forced that it looks more like a grimace. “I know.” He rubs his left ring finger that still doesn’t have his ring on it.

  “I don’t know what to do. Diego and I went out yesterday to try and find him. We passed out flyers and asked at different shops if anyone had seen him, but no dice.”

  “Diego told me. Why didn’t you two invite me along?”

  “Oh, no reason.” I shrug and force myself to not look away because I just know he’s going to read into this.

  “Sure.” Angelo smirks.

  “Yeah, well, maybe we should start by calling the stores—“

  “I have my own lead,” he says, nose in the air.

  I cross my arms, not believing him for a second. “And what is it?”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll call you after Demon and I have a nice long chat.”

  “Call him Demon to his face. I’m sure he’ll love that.”

  Angelo runs a hand down his face and then rubs that spot on his finger again. “You know, I do know his name.”

  “I couldn’t tell for sure,” I say dryly.

  His grimace reveals his discomfort, and I have a feeling the sources are work and wife. Soon to be former wife?

  “All right. You work your angle. I’ll work mine. Eventually, though, we’re gonna have to work together.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Angelo jumps up and stalks away.

  “What’s your deal?” I mumble under my breath.

  Head down, I grab my phone to start calling the stores, but Angelo’s seat is occupied.

  By Diego.

  “Don’t take it personally.”

  “I take nothing personally.” Maybe not the complete truth, but good enough.

  Diego smiles wide. “Sure. Anyhow, I think he hates me, and he’s taking it out on you.”

  “Why would he hate you?”

  “His old partner is running a new department. He thinks that because I’m Hunter’s partner, that I have a leg up over you two.”

  As big as his smile is, my scowl matches, and I have difficulty keeping my voice low and my anger in check. “You don’t have a leg up on me.”

  Does he, though? If that’s the case, I’m furious. Not at him. At Rex. Because he never once made it sound like I could be partnered with him. Not that I want to be his partner, but I do want his job, and he’s the one with all the knowledge now, given all of his meetings…

  “I didn’t mean to set you off.” Diego leans forward and rubs the slight stubble on his cheek. “I just thought you might want to know that Angelo doesn’t have a problem with you.”

  “Just with you. Because the world revolves around Diego Garcia.”

  He winks as he pushes the chair back to stand. “So glad you’re realizing that.” And he walks away while whistling.

  The world doesn’t revolve around you. Or me. Maybe vamps. Or wolves.

  Maybe something else altogether.

  After work, I crash and sleep for several hours. After I wake up, I have a light snack, lift some weights, have a protein shake, shower, and then make a late dinner. The weights and the shower are therapeutic. Doesn’t matter. My sleeping schedule is so far off balance right now that I doubt it’ll ever get back on track.

  By now, it’s nearly the witching hour, so I hop into my car and drive to South Mountain. The Star in Bethlehem is always a wonderful sight. Back in 1741, Moravian founders named the city Bethlehem. Ever since the Star has been up for decades and decades now, Bethlehem, PA has been known as the Christmas City, USA. We take Christmas serious here, between Christkindlmarkt and Christmas City Village. Yeah, it might be early November, but here, it’s never too early to start thinking about Christmas.

  But I’m not here for the magic and the wonder of Christmas, even if it feels cold enough to start snowing heavily at any moment. Actually, I’m not entirely certain what I’m here for.

  A little confused and frustrated with myself, I park and climb out of my car. I tilt my head to the side. When I realize I’m waiting to hear a howl, I wince and sigh. My anxiety is almost reaching med levels.

  Wait, what was that?

  Perplexed, I duck down and make my way through the trees. Picking my way quietly but eagerly, I hurry forward until I reach a clearing. Ten men and women stare at the couple in the middle of their circle, Rolf one of them.

  His pack. Well, not his, since he’s not the alpha, but the pack he belongs to.

  Their voices are low. Maybe it’s only my overactive imagination, but I almost can swear that there’s an animalistic nature to the hums coming to me. The words aren’t audible, but I refrain from moving closer. If Rolf wants me to do more than observe, then he can come and fetch me. Otherwise, I’m staying put, thank you very much.

  So observe I do. The alpha is a towering man, powerful and threatening. He sure looks the part with his bodybuilder physique, no neck, huge head, thin lips, and thick eyebrows. His head is worn in a military-style, and the tattoo of an angry wolf almost glows on his bicep. It’s not literally glowing. Geez, next I’ll start believing in magic and witches. There’s a fire I hadn’t noticed before, a small one without a wisp of smoke, the flames eager but tiny.

  The woman beside him—the alpha female if there is such a thing, or maybe she’s just his wife… mate?—looks like an Amazon. Tons of muscles, thin, exotic with sleek black hair, wide, flashing eyes, olive skin. Her makeup is far thicker than I’ll ever wear. It serves to make her exquisite with slashes of orange along her prominent cheekbones, bronzer beneath to highlight them even more. Green and purple color her eyelids, her top lip purple, the bottom green.

  Her hair reaches to her bottom as it sways in the slight breeze. The strands are twisted into four beaded braids, a green ribbon threaded through two, orange for the others. Her boots look Army-issued, and I think I see the glint of a weapon handle jutting out of the one. The alpha male wears jeans and boots. No shirt or coat for him. The female wears a floral wraparound dress, almost too simple compared to the rest of her. The sleeveless design shows off her feminine but ripped arms, and a gold band coils around her one bicep four times. Man, I sure hope that’s fitted loose because if she flexes, that’s gonna cause her a lot of pain.

  The others in the assembly are too far to see for the most part, either their backs to me or the alphas blocking my view. Rolf seems much more at ease here. Why? Because he spoke with me?
Somehow believes I can handle all of his worries for him? I really don’t see how I, by myself, can take down the mighty, powerful, possibly immortal Amarok. Maybe if I had the backing of twelve werewolves…

  Or maybe with the help of a vamp…

  No. No way. I would never ever side with a vamp. Besides, that’s not an option. I’m hoping that all the vamps are gone, either killed or moved away. I’m praying that Bethlehem is free from their tyranny and reign of terror.

  Deep down, though, I’m far too uneasy and apprehensive to dare believe that I’ve seen the last of the vamps.

  The alpha has said his piece. I’m shocked to see Rolf and not the female is the next one to talk. Everyone, even the alphas, listen to him, paying him respect, even as much reverence as they showed the alpha.

  Don’t wolves have hierarchies? More than just the alpha? There’s alpha, omega… and beta. Is Rolf the alpha’s second? His beta? Is that how it works?

  Only after another steps forward to speak does the level of reverence fade away, but the respect remains high. They are so close knit. They are a family. No. It’s something even beyond family.

  It’s irrational and stupid and ridiculous, but a stab of jealousy overwhelms me. I’ve never had someone other than my parents look at me somewhat similarly to how the wolves look at each other. Not even Travis, my longtime friend and partner for years. Not even Samantha, my best friend. Not one of the few guys I’ve dated.

  Yeah, I’m jealous. Jealous of people who can change shape into wolves, but not because of their ability, because of the bond they have. That closeness is even more impressive than their inner wolves.

  Inner wolves. Is that their true form—the wolf and not the human? Do they maintain their human mind while in their wolf? What about Amarok? Is he evil to the core? Does his mind have any shred of humanity left? Maybe these wolves are more human and Amarok less than… Or maybe these wolves are the ones I need to watch.

  The man Amarok turned into isn’t here. Believe me. Despite the haze from the fire and the dim light from the moon, and thanks to the circle shifting some, I’ve stared down each and every one of the males and can’t find him. Him being gone doesn’t mean these wolves are any better. Rolf might say so, but for all I know, these wolves and Amarok might have a feud going. Who knows? Maybe Xandrie and Frank Ivy were wolves from this pack or even a different one.

  The fact is, I don’t know enough about them. Trust is something that is exceptionally hard for a cop to give, and I’m the rule in this instance, not the exception.

  They hug and kiss cheeks or do chest bumps or touch knuckles. “Bump!” is the only phrase I clearly hear. It’s clear to me they’re parting ways for the night.

  I stick by my tree, hiding, and none come my way. Good. I’ll make my way back to my car and—

  A hand touches my shoulder.

  I almost jump out of my skin in surprise. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

  In the poor light, it’s hard to see Rolf’s face clearly. He’s anything but carefree, more uptight but not quite anxious. Like his nerves are settled, but something remains off.

  “What do you want?” I demand.

  “To let you know we will bring you weapons to take on Amarok.”

  Agitation seeps into me like a slow drip from an IV. I cross my eyes and glower at him, angry and frustrated. “Why not use them on him yourself?” I demand. “Why special weapons? Why not just a gun? A regular slug or a silver bullet? I thought you said you don’t know how to kill him. Was that a lie? Or will these weapons not kill him?”

  “You wish to keep Bethlehem safe, correct? That’s why you became a cop.”

  “You have no right,” I declare, poking him with my index finger hard in the chest, “to act as if you know me.”

  “You aren’t like other cops. You care.”

  “Plenty of cops care!” I protest.

  “There are degrees of caring. Rookies care, sure, until they see more of the world and realize how many terrible people live in it.”

  “Terrible people?” I mutter. “Or terrible wolves?”

  He ignores me. “Older cops, they become jaded. Sometimes it’s despite themselves, and sometimes they embrace it.”

  “Just how do you think you know the inner workings of cops so well?”

  Man, if I could be Scott Summers, I’d be so tempted to lift my visor and blast him with beams of energy. How dare he act like he knows me and my friends!

  “I was only trying to compliment you. Remind me not to do that again.”

  “I don’t want compliments.” My frustration is climbing to a devastating eight on the Richter scale. “I want to know more about Amarok, more about these weapons, and most of all, why you all can’t go after him yourselves. It’s not fair to—“

  “It’s not fair that he’s here. That he’s trying to stake our land and drive us out. Look, I understand you don’t trust us.” He rubs his forearms, but I don’t get the impression that it’s from the cold. “I don’t blame you for that. It’s just… We’ve driven other things away from Bethlehem over the years. We’re watching out for her, too. But we can’t… We can’t go after him.”

  “Why not?” If you can’t give me a good reason why—“

  “Because he won’t just slaughter our pack if we try. He’ll hunt and kill us all if one of us goes against him. And then he’ll find other nearby wolf packs and slaughter them, too. I’m not just saying this. It’s history. It’s been repeated three times already. The first time was back in the 300s. He was said to have killed no less than fifty wolves. Not terrible, right? Could’ve been worse.”

  Actually, fifty sounded like a terrible number, but I hold my tongue.

  “Then again during the Crusades. One hundred and fifty wolves he slaughtered.”

  “And the next time One thousand and fifty wolves?” I venture timidly.

  Rolf shook his head. “During the French Revolution, he hunted and slew ten thousand. We, as a species, have never quite recovered from that blow. Now we number about twenty thousand spread throughout the world.”

  “And you’re afraid that he will kill all twenty thousand of you if only one of you goes up against him,” I say quietly.

  “Yes.”

  A long silence spreads between us, cold and oppressive, frightening and demanding.

  “Why me?” I finally venture, staring at the ground. It’s terrifying to think of the chaos and sheer annihilation Amarok has wrought, and Rolf wants me to take him on by myself? As if I have a hope and a prayer! “When I took down those vamps, I… I wanted to do it alone, but my friends came as backup anyhow.”

  “You have friends, yes, but you also have no one.”

  My head snaps up at that. “Excuse me?”

  “Your lieutenant is married. Your old partner is a newlywed. Your new partner is separated, but he has several siblings. Your direct boss has parents. His partner has a huge family. Your—“

  “I get it. I’m alone. I’m a human without a pack, right?” I narrow my eyes and fight the urge to punch him. I’m so furious that I want to whip out my gun and wave it around, but I would never do that. You don’t point a gun unless you’re willing to pull the trigger. I’m livid, but I’m not that far gone that I would shoot him. “I’m expendable. That’s it, right? It doesn’t matter if I die. Yeah, a few friends will be sad and weep at my funeral, but who cares? No one, right?”

  “Do you know what it is like to have hundreds and thousands of your brothers and sisters wiped out by a monster?” Rolf demands. He finally is showing a little bit of spine, getting angry himself, but I’m so far gone in my rage that I can’t care.

  “I don’t know. How many humans has Amarok killed over the centuries? What exactly is he, this spirit of the wolf? How did he come to be? What created him? What made him want to drink blood?”

  Rolf’s breathing heavily. His eyes are wild… feral. His lips part but only a slight howl escapes.

  “You aren’t gonna go all wolfy o
n me, are you? Attack me? Kill me? Drink my blood?” I jab his shoulder. Maybe it’s unwise to provoke him, but he’s pushed one of my hot buttons, and I’m seeing red.

  “We don’t—“ he starts to protest.

  “I’m just supposed to take everything you say at your word. Just trust you. Believe you. Because you can change into an animal.”

  His scowl is vicious. “Not just an animal,” he hisses. “A wolf.”

  As if that makes all the difference in the world.

  “Wolf, serpent…” I hold up my hands as if leveling and then unbalancing a scale. “No difference.”

  “A big difference. I’m not a liar.”

  “Not a liar, maybe, but you are willing to sacrifice me.”

  “You took down the vamps—“

  “I never killed one. I captured them. With help. You want me to go against some kind of super freak of a supernatural spirit wolf guy who has slaughtered thousands, tens of thousands. Who knows? With how long he’s been alive for, maybe his kill count has reached the million mark. Well, I know you don’t want to be kill number one million and one, and neither do I.” I pivot around.

  Before I can walk away, he calls out, “Better you than the entire city.”

  Provoked and dismayed, I whip around, but he’s already gone.

  Chapter 11

  “What an arrogant, cocky, self-serving jerk of a freak. Part wolf, part man, what does that make him? Not my keeper and he has no say in what I do, how I live my life, how I go out. Not that I want to die, but I definitely don’t want to be a feast for some spirit of the wolf,” I mumble as I stomp back to my car. I yank open the door and jerk my body awkwardly as I get in, too fuming to be able to treat my body kindly. If that Rolf was around yet, I’d wring his neck.

  A glance over my shoulder to make sure I can pull out, and I freeze. Twin red orbs stare at me. I jerk my body again to get a better look, but the red orbs are gone.

  Vamp eyes? Something else altogether? Nothing at all and my mind is playing tricks on me?