by Alana Melos
“I told you, that was a stupid name,” Rory said. I ignored the hand, but Rebekah shook it, smiling at him. “Hey, watch the road too.”
“What about… Iced Lightning?” Lee said without missing a beat. He lowered his hand and turned back forward as the car swerved on a patch of ice. I gave him a longer look and noted he wasn’t wearing any protective clothing at all. A pair of shorts, some sneakers, and a black tank top.
“I, uhm, don’t think…” Rebekah shook her head. “No, that doesn’t work.”
“Well, you’re a babe, so you don’t know what a good name is,” he scoffed. I rolled my eyes and settled back in the back seat, tuning him out as he prattled on. My shoulder hurt. My whole body did. Now that the buzz of adrenalin from escaping left me, pain settled back into my body.
“Yeah…” the Siren said. She nudged me with her elbow and said in a lower voice, “Do you know where we’re going?”
“Does it matter?” I asked.
“Back to the den,” Rory answered for her. “It’s near the crash site. No one goes there.” He waved a hand, then reached into his jacket and took out a pack of smokes.
“Wait, why doesn’t anyone go there?” she asked, straightening up in the seat. Looking at Rory anxiously, she continued, “I mean, if it’s laced with radiation or something…”
“The old Uptown engines burned clean energy,” I told her. “They’ve been stripped of anything of value, long ago. It’s overgrown now.” I frowned to myself. I seemed to remember hearing something about plans to reclaim the old Queens borough of New York it had fallen on, but nothing had come of it. The best they’d done was to clear one of the highways to the south of the crash to allow access to the Hamptons.
“I can’t say for certain, mind you, but I’ve heard that it’s haunted,” Rory said as he lit his smoke and cracked the window. After he put everything away, he scratched his chin and looked back at us. “I haven’t seen anything myself, but you hear strange noises from time to time. It’s so overgrown now, we just leave it alone.” He shrugged, “There’s a lot of empty buildings there since no one wants to be near the ‘haunted forest’, and it makes for a good hideout.”
“Haunted?” Rebekah gasped and I rolled my eyes.
“It’s just a story,” I said, “probably made by crooks like ourselves in order to keep their private lair private.”
“If you like,” Mauler said as his brown eyes shone with mirth. “You’ve never been there. I can tell.”
“Why would I go?” I replied. “It’s out of the main drag, and no one lives there. No work, no reason.”
“Wow, these streets are mondo creeptastic,” Lee said, craning his neck around. “No one’s here. Like no one. It’s too dark, man. I don’t like it.”
“We’re still setting up generators for electricity, but we don’t mind living rough,” Rory explained as I looked out the window at the darkened, snow-covered streets. Darkness coated the road, thick and heavy. You never realized how much light was in a city until it was gone. Even the reflected, ambient light from the above cloud cover didn’t do much to illuminate here. The blackness swallowed it. I shivered. The car felt cold to me, even though the heater ran on full strength.
“I have to agree,” Rebekah said. “It’s creepy.”
We fell into silence as Lee drove. He muttered to himself the whole time, sounding like a pep talk. The empty buildings loomed above us, their windows like open, staring eyes. Rory pointed the way to go and Lee followed. “Here, this is close enough,” Rory said. “Pull over here.”
“Sure thing,” the kid said and screeched to a stop in the middle of the street. “Where’s my cash?” Rory crushed out his smoke, reached into his jacket, and took out a wad of cash. He peeled off a couple thousand and handed it over. The teen pocketed it without counting, his wide grin flashing back, “Hey, cool, man. You wanna work together again sometime I--”
“I got it,” Rory said, cutting him off. “Don’t call me, I’ll call you.”
All of us got out as Lee said, “But you don't have my number….”
Mauler shut the door and shook his head. “I was going to pound that guy into paste,” he growled as he turned up his collar against the wind.
“I didn’t think he was that bad…” Rebekah said. “He seemed nice?”
“You didn’t have to sit in the car with him while we waited for Timmy boy to get things set up,” Rory grumbled. He nodded his head down an alley and began walking. We followed his big broad footsteps and I took my time since I was too tired to hover above the snow like I would normally do. Slippery streets and stiletto heels didn’t mix.
“You and Septimus set this up?” I asked. “He’s a cop…”
“He was pretty upset that black haired woman called the cops,” Rory said. “When he found out afterwards. They fought about it for a couple of minutes, but the music was so loud I couldn’t hear what was said exactly.” He shrugged, “Right after she left in a huff, he came back, but he smelled like fear. When I asked what was going on, he told me.” The big man flashed a grin, glancing behind him to us, “That just wasn’t going to do.”
“But we got away from that big blue woman,” Rebekah pointed out as she trudged through the snow, making her own path. I followed in Rory’s footsteps so I could at least see what I was walking on. “We didn’t get captured until later.”
“We didn’t know that then,” Mauler said. “He said he had a plan, but it took some time to put everything in place. I found the kid to make the distraction, and he hotwired a car… by the time Timmy had contacted us, you were in the glasshouse.”
“Glasshouse?” the Siren asked.
“Jail,” I replied, though I’d never heard the term myself. “Thank you, Mauler. I… we appreciate it.” Rebekah nodded an affirmative and I glanced over at her. “Is her staying going to be a problem?”
Rory considered it as we rounded a corner to yet another empty street. This time, we saw tracks in the freshly fallen snow. People were around. I felt eyes on me as we walked, so I did a quick telepathic scan and counted more than a few presences. Most of the thoughts I scanned were in German, so I relaxed. This was Rory’s den and pack. If I wasn’t safe here, I wouldn’t be safe anywhere. At least from the police.
“I don’t think so, not unless she causes problems,” he said after the prolonged silence. “I’ll vouch for her, and you.”
“I thought I was your pack sister,” I said.
“You’re a friend of the pack, but you’re not quite pack,” he replied. “You’ve shed blood with us, but trust takes more than just being a sister in blood.”
I refrained from pointing out that I’d helped them get settled and introduce to this world when they’d first arrived. “As long as we’re not going to be hassled or sucked into some sort of weird werewolf gladiator fight,” I said.
The big man chuckled. “Not unless you want to be.”
I looked around, “I thought you were on the buddy system too.”
“I am here,” a strong feminine voice said from behind me. When I turned, I saw Adira melt out of the shadows. She’d adapted well to Earth Prime. Her long dark hair was gathered under a scarf and her clothes were all of the best cut, the most expensive materials. It had a Middle Eastern flavor to it, paying homage to what must have been her heritage. Her light brown skin almost seemed to glow in the dim light, so unlike the other vampires I had met before. Maybe it was because of her ancestry, or maybe because she was younger than Nosferatu. Either way, instead of the dead white skin he had which repelled light, she looked lovely and ethereal, as if she were a beacon to light our way.
“Long time no see,” I said. “I want to talk to you, later, if I can.”
“About what?” she asked, but Rory interrupted us.
He gestured, “We’re here.”
Chapter Eight
The werewolf stopped in front of an apartment building, which looked abandoned for all intents and purposes. It was a good place to hide, something d
ark and creepy. The whole neighborhood held that feel in the air, as if something lurked in the shadows waiting to jump you. If I wasn’t who I was, I might have been scared. My nerves pinched me a little, causing me to take notes of the entrances and exits as we walked up to the apartment building, but I did that when I walked into a new place anyway. I wasn’t afraid. Nope. Not nervous at all. Rory reached for the door, but it opened without him touching it and an unfamiliar redheaded woman poked her head out.
“You’re bringing guests now?” German accented her English, much like the Siren’s.
“Caprice and the Nacht Sirene,” Rory said. “I owe ‘em. I vouch for them.”
“They better not cause any trouble,” the woman said, giving us a dirty look.
“I vouched for them, didn’t I?” he grumbled. To us he nodded, “C’mon. Let’s go. I’m freezing my balls off out here.”
As a group, we entered the crumbling building. The unknown woman closed the door and fell into step behind the Siren. “We’re watching you,” she said. When I looked, I noted Adira had disappeared and I checked a sigh. I couldn’t wait to ask her about the vampire blood. It been so long; it should have been done with by now.
“Downstairs,” Rory said. “We set up shop in a few buildings, cleaned ‘em out, but it still warmest down in the basement. At least until we can get the furnaces running right.” He and Rebekah saw just fine--he with his enhanced sight and she with her goggles--but I had to bring out my phone and turn on the flashlight app so I didn’t stumble my way down the steps. Once we hit the bottom, a pleasant orange glow greeted us. I put my phone away and let my eyes adjust to the low light. It came from a hooded central fire pit, which channeled the majority of the smoke out through a window. It wasn’t terribly warm, but it wasn’t freezing either. Perhaps a half dozen people were here lying about relaxing and a couple were on guard with assault rifles. They weren’t taking any chances.
I and the Siren got a couple of looks, but Rory assented he had vouched for us once again and led us towards the back of the open communal area. They had cleaned it up pretty well. Instead of a bare cement floor, they had thrown rugs down so the surface was padded. The various storage areas of the large basement had been split up into living quarters, complete with brand new doors for privacy. While the windows were covered for the most part, other decorations hung on the walls--movie posters mainly from what I could see--which gave the open area a welcoming feel. They’d put in couches and chairs too and if it weren’t a basement of an abandoned apartment building, it could be anyone’s suburban living room.
“I thought you might want to get cleaned up,” Rory said. “This is my room. I’ll grab you a basin of clean water.”
“I wanted to speak with Adira,” I said quickly, looking around. “I don’t see her… can you tell her that?”
“Of course,” the big wolf replied. “Just make yourself comfortable, and I’ll be back in two shakes.”
When I opened the door to Rory’s room, I didn’t know what to expect, but I thought it’d be something messy. What I found was something ordered. He had a large bed in the center of the room which didn’t leave much space to move around in. A chest of drawers was up against one side of the wall and a footlocker sat at the foot of his bed. A couple of night stands flanked the bed, both with candles. I fumbled around in my pocket and brought out a lighter to light them before closing the bedroom door to give us some privacy.
“I don’t think it’s going to be OK that I’m here,” Rebekah said softly, whispering the words. All of the supernatural creatures in the building had heightened senses. “I know they don’t like me. But it’s not my fault.”
“That’s not our major problem,” I replied looking over the neat room. There wasn’t even a pair of socks on the rug. It was as if a military recruit lived here. So wild and free, Rory ran with the wolves and I supposed I expected him to live like one. All the movies about werewolves told me they were supposed to be bestial. As I picked up a book on the nightstand and read the title, ‘Catcher in the Rye’, I knew they had over simplified and I’d fallen into the trap of believing the trope. I put the book back. “Richter… I think he’s the one taking down the wolves.”
“Why do you think that?” Rebekah asked, sitting on the bed. “We don’t have any proof.”
“Call it a hunch,” I shrugged. “A crazy mage type comes from the dimension you all escaped from and some wolves start to go missing? It can’t be a coincidence.”
“What can’t be a coincidence?” Mauler asked as he opened the door. True to his word, he carried a basin of water along with a couple of washcloths and towels. He set those down on top of the drawers and looked at me, raising his brows expectantly.
“We had a run in with someone from the Reich,” I said, then explained the whole encounter to him, keeping my voice hushed so as not to be overheard by the others outside and start a panic… or a rage induced rave. Either would be bad right now.
When I’d finished, Rory bobbed his head. “I don’t know an Oberst Richter, but I was just a soldier too. Here, come and talk to Freyja.” He held his hand out for Rebekah, “You know this Oberst best, and I know she’ll have questions.”
“I don’t get to clean up?” she squeaked as she glanced fretfully from me to him and back to me again.
“This is too important,” he replied. With a heavy sigh, Rebekah got up and took his hand. “It’ll be OK,” he said, giving her a too wide smile. “If you don’t have anything to do with it, you’ll be fine.”
“Hah ha… of course I don’t,” she replied weakly, giving me another look which I couldn’t decipher.
“You’ll be fine,” I encouraged.
When they left, I shook my head. I didn’t blame her for being nervous here among the wolves in their den, but I was getting tired of the big sister routine. I stripped off my jacket and hung it up, making sure my sword hilt was sticking out for an easy grab. After that, my shirt went. After dipping a cloth into the basin of cold water, I wrung it out and started wiping some of the various gook and blood I’d accumulated tonight. It wasn’t that much, but it did give me a chance to wash out the wound on my shoulder again and check my ribs. The water felt cool and refreshing, but I couldn’t relax. I should have asked Septimus if the cops were behind Ger’s disappearance while I had the chance. They could be… but I had my doubts. If they were, wouldn’t they still be in his apartment gathering evidence? Wouldn’t there have been police tape or something? Instead, the door had been left open.
On the other hand, I knew it wasn’t Richter, though he was looking for Gerard. He wouldn’t have asked if he had him. That left… oh about a thousand possibilities. It had to be someone with power and connections. His new identity didn’t exactly match his old one, his face was completely different, and his height and weight as well, so that meant someone had to have a surefire way to identify him, which took money. Or the right connections. A single party couldn’t have done it unless they had a way to neutralize his powers and to hide from a telepath. Rebekah could have done it, but she was a one in a million combination of power and skill. Granted, she did still hurt him tonight, which may have helped the potential abductors, but they’d still have to sneak up on him, and he never let his telepathic guard down.
To me, it screamed of a strike team of unknown origin. Could be government based, could be a mercenary group on behalf of some unknown benefactor. Although I couldn’t think of anyone off the top of my head who could pull it off, there were people who did have that information at the tips of their fingers.
Just as I finished freshening up, the door opened. Rory walked in and gave me a gentle leer at my shirtless self before closing the door. “She OK?” I asked.
“Yeah, she’s fine,” he said as he sat down heavily on his bed next to me. “I think she’s too afraid of us. After the initial shock, yeah… we were angry… but it’s not her fault. It was the Reich’s, and this Richter.”
“If she’s fine, then where is she?”
I asked, frowning.
“She wanted to crash, and I wasn’t sure if you were done or sleeping or what,” he said.
“Yet you barged in just fine,” I observed with a wry smile.
“Well, it is my room,” Rory replied stretching out on the bed next to me. He had taken off his jacket from earlier and wore his jeans with a not quite big enough tee shirt for him with a logo for a popular movie ‘Fangs’ on it.
“I was just admiring your taste in literature,” I said, nodding towards the nightstand. “A novel that’s over a hundred years old didn’t seem like your speed.”
At that, he looked hurt. “How do you know?” he asked, the undertone of a growl in the question. “It was written after World War II… which means it was never written in my dimension.” He sat up and loomed over me, but considering he was so tall it was pretty easy to loom without meaning to. At least it had better be unintentional. “It’s a book about mourning… about loss… about being an outsider and full of anger.” He shook his head, “Easy enough to read, but there are a lot of messages there. That one speaks to me.”
“That one?” I asked. “How many more books have you read?”
“A couple dozen,” he answered. “And movies. We’re trying to catch up on movies too.” There, he flashed a quick grin, looking more like the jovial and feral Rory I knew. “We didn’t have much like that in Axis. Nothing that didn’t support the Fatherland, that was. Even if it wasn’t about the Reich, it still was, y’know?”
I nodded. “What about the stuff written before the war?”
A slight shrug, “Some survived, and some was edited, but most was burned in the early days.” He gave a wistful sigh. “I’ve read a few pieces here and there from before, but they were pretty rare and we didn’t have much time for anything but war.”
As he talked, I canted my head to the side listening. I’d never thought about what a culture shock it must have been for them. “So… you’re a book wolf, eh?” I said, trying to joke a little.