Rhonda shook her head. “Thanks for asking.”
Karol took a business card from her pocket. She had taped two keys onto its blank side. “Here.”
Rhonda took the card. “What’s this?”
“The address of your decoy apartment. It’s an attic in an apartment house on Staten Island. Memorize the address. If for any reason anyone asks, that’s where you live, but don’t go there under any circumstances.”
Rhonda turned the card over and looked at the keys. “Am I in danger again?”
“We all are. This is just a precaution.”
Rhonda swallowed. “Should I disappear?”
“If you do that now, it will only send up red flags and get me in hot water. But you might want to start thinking about where you’d like to spend the rest of your life. Good night.”
“Good night.” Still looking at the card, Rhonda closed the door.
Karol went into the bathroom and brushed her teeth, then entered her bedroom and closed the door. She set her phone on the bedside table, shed her clothes, and crawled under the bedcovers. Maybe the living situation with Rhonda would work out after all.
Carl switched on the rental car’s ignition again. He had taken to alternating between letting the engine run for heat and turning it off to save gas, but he had to let it run for longer periods of time now that the sky had blackened.
The dashboard clock taunted him with the time—7:19 pm. He had spent most of his day staking out a Korean delicatessen while most reporters in the city followed the manhunt for Gomez, and he had nothing to show for it. The thought of spending the night in his apartment while the inevitable newscasts played caused his muscles to sag. He needed dinner, and he would be damned if he was going to buy another meal from the deli after its owners had wasted his time.
The Korean man who had made his sandwich exited the deli. He wore a winter coat.
“Hello, what have we here?” Maybe the man didn’t own the deli. Maybe he was just an employee, and his shift had ended. What woman works alone at a cash operation in the Bronx at night?
The man turned to his left and headed up the sidewalk. Carl shifted the car into gear and made a U-turn for the second time that day. He followed the deli owner for half a block, then stopped and waited for the man to get farther ahead before resuming his crawl. Two long blocks later, the man turned right at an intersection. Carl cursed at the one-way street. He sped up to the next intersection, turned right, and circled the long block.
“Come on, goddamn it,” he said.
He made one more right-hand turn, slowing down only when he saw the Korean man on the left in the distance. The man turned into a driveway, and Carl pulled into a parking space and looked over his shoulder at the driveway. Two block-like residential buildings sandwiched the Grand Concourse Family Values Community Center. A black metal fence surrounded the center. A woman wearing a long black coat approached the gate, glanced around as if to make sure no one watched her, then opened it, stepped onto the property, closed the gate, and followed the driveway until she disappeared from Carl’s view.
“It must be bingo night.” Carl switched his camcorder on and set it next to the window, aiming it behind him and turning the screen toward him.
Two more people passed through the gate and walked around the building. Where the hell were these people going?
Carl looked up and down the street. A few silhouettes shuffled through the pools of light cast by streetlights. He put on a ski cap, then slid his camcorder into his coat pocket. He got out of the car, crossed the street, and opened the gate. He crept toward the corner of the building and peered around it. A tall man wearing an army jacket and a red cap stood outside the side entrance.
A sentry? Carl ducked out of sight. What the hell are they up to?
Facing the street again, he circled the front of the building to its opposite corner and peeked around it. The fence separating the building from the apartment building next door created a narrow alley. The only light in the alley came from the apartment windows above.
Carl turned on his phone’s flashlight and used it to illuminate his way. He sneaked through the darkness, searching for some sign of where the Korean man and the other people had gone. A faint murmuring reached his ears, and a sliver of pale light sliced the cracked concrete walkway before him.
Plywood covered the basement windows, but he noticed a gap in one of the windows. Crouching, he noted the voices came from inside. He pressed one eye against the edge of the plywood, but all he managed to see were shadows on a dingy green floor.
Kneeling on the cold concrete, he wrapped his fingers around the plywood and pulled. The movement created a scraping sound, and he stopped after shifting the wood just three inches. He still couldn’t see inside, but he had enough room to squeeze his camcorder through the opening. Lying on the ground, he took the camera from his pocket, flipped its screen open, and set it on the concrete window ledge with the lens aimed inside.
The screen showed about a dozen people standing in the basement meeting room, surrounded by folding chairs. Most of their heads were cropped from this angle. The sounds of traffic and wind prevented him from hearing what they said.
Carl adjusted the screen and the angle of the lens, framing the people from head to toe. He pressed Record and counted ten men and four women of mixed ethnicities. The Korean man stood in profile, speaking to a Hispanic woman. Carl zoomed in on them, then panned around the room, the automatic focus sharpening blurry figures. All were middle-aged or older. At least two men were dressed in suits and overcoats, but most wore jeans with sweaters or sweatshirts. The whole scene reminded Carl of Alcoholics Anonymous.
A tall man with black hair walked over to a podium in front of a chalkboard and spoke. Carl couldn’t make out the man’s echoing words. Except for two men who stood behind the speaker, the rest of the men and women sat on folding chairs with their backs to the camera. Carl zoomed out, then zoomed in on the speaker. Carl’s heart beat faster. He recognized the man: Gabriel Domini.
Eighteen
Standing at the podium in the meeting hall, Gabriel made eye contact with the representatives of the Greater Pack of New York City. This wasn’t the first time he had called them together on short notice, but he believed it might be the last. Micah, his cabdriver, and Joe Sevin stood behind him, and George and Bennett sat in the front row.
“Everyone’s here, so let’s get started,” Gabriel said. “Thank you for coming. I assure you this is an emergency.”
Pensive eyes met his gaze.
“First, the Blades of Salvation have been destroyed. They’ll trouble us no more, and anyone seeking strength from their symbolism will be disappointed. I also want to make sure everyone knows that George Allen has replaced my brother, Raphael, at my right hand, and Bennett Jones is advising me as well. The Brotherhood of Torquemada has been defeated, but we’re in greater danger than ever.”
Carl strained to hear Gabriel’s words, which proved fruitless. He hoped the camera’s built-in microphone captured the audio.
On the screen, Gabriel and the men standing behind him—bodyguards?—looked to their right, as if distracted by a sudden noise.
Gabriel heard voices in the hallway. A moment later, Jonah, the guard in charge of security, barked like a dog. Gabriel started forward, but Micah clasped his shoulder and proceeded to the door instead, followed by the second bodyguard.
Micah opened the door, revealing Jonah within the door frame, his arms braced against it to prevent entry. Three men stood before him: Raphael, his bodyguard Eddie, and Elias Michalakis, the Greek who had turned Raphael against him.
“Let them in,” Gabriel said.
Jonah stepped away from the doorway, and Raphael led his fellows inside.
“What do you want?” Gabriel said. “Have you finally come to your senses?”
Raphael cast his gaze over the council members. “I’m here by my birthright.”
“You gave up those rights when you turned your b
ack on the pack,” Gabriel said.
“Don’t forget we were the ones who located the Brotherhood’s hiding place.” He faced the seated Wolves. “Or did you neglect to tell them that?”
“The Torquemadans are no longer a threat. We’re here tonight to deal with new issues.”
“My invitation must have been lost in the mail, Brother.”
“You and Eddie are welcome. Elias isn’t. He doesn’t represent anyone in the pack.”
“He represents me and my followers.”
Gabriel felt the council members watching him. He knew they expected him to show strength in the face of dissention, but he did not wish to argue or prolong the meeting. “Come in then.”
Raphael, Eddie, and Elias moved into the room and sat down.
Carl believed one of the three men who had just entered was Raphael Domini, Gabriel’s brother, also wanted for questioning by the police. He debated whether to call 911.
After I find out what this is all about, he thought.
“I’ve called you here tonight because our worst fears have been realized,” Gabriel said to the council. “Julian Fortier’s killing spree two years ago brought the Brotherhood here. We dealt with them. They’re finished, but their actions have raised the interest of the authorities. The police know about us. So does the FBI. That means federal scrutiny. Right now, Tony Mace’s task force has been assigned to identify as many of us as possible. I met with them and gave a hair sample for DNA testing. I did this to buy us time, but now that Gomez is following in Fortier’s footsteps, the clock is ticking.”
“What do you propose we do?” Anne Wong, a councilwoman, said.
“I’m afraid we can no longer lie low and hope the danger will pass. As much as it pains me to say this, we need to disband the pack and leave the city.”
“You’re just going to abandon Father’s dream?” Raphael said.
Here it comes, Gabriel thought. “I shared in Father’s dream of integration into human society. I took it to a higher level. We have pack members in law enforcement, education, and medicine—even lawmakers. But in joining this society, we’ve made ourselves vulnerable to exposure. Fortier created the domino effect he wanted. For the survival of this pack and our species, we need to go underground.”
Whispers and murmurs rose from the council members, and Raphael glared at Gabriel.
“Where do you expect us to go?” Cecilia Perez said.
“I don’t want to know,” Gabriel said. “And I don’t want any of you to share your destination with even your closest friends or distant family members. If you do, it will just take the capture of one of us to lead to the identification, imprisonment, and execution of others. Go where you feel safe. Canada is suitable for now. With the Brotherhood defeated, Europe is wide open. All your members have invested money in our stocks. Under my orders, we’ve been liquidating those funds in a careful manner and splitting them accordingly. But you have to make preparations now, and so do your people.”
Raphael stood. “You want us all to run.”
“I want us all to survive.”
“By running.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time.”
Raphael looked around the room. “Maybe some of us don’t want to run. Maybe none of us do. We have jobs, family.”
A few people nodded.
“We need to put the safety of the species ahead of our own human comforts.” Gabriel hoped to appeal to the Wolves in a more subtle manner than Raphael’s approach.
Raphael locked eyes with him. “So you’re stepping down as leader of the pack?”
Gabriel did not look away. “No, I retain my leadership. And as the alpha, I order the disbandment of the pack.”
“You mentioned Mace.” Raphael turned to the council members. “Did you tell everyone that he and his wife and the female FBI agent witnessed you and Karol Williams transform into Wolves to defeat the Brotherhood, and you allowed them to live?”
Gabriel felt his temperature rising. “Killing police officers would have only made matters worse.”
“And yet now you say we have to fear the very agencies they work for.”
“The Torquemadans blew up cars and buildings. They killed policemen in order to assassinate Wolves, and now they’re dead. The fact that our existence hasn’t been made public yet is due to Mace’s loyalty to us.”
“I warned you to kill them.”
“I told you then and I tell you now that I make the laws, and I say the Maces and Norton are to be left alone.”
Raphael spread his arms for emphasis. “You took a chance in letting them live. You risked our safety for their sake, and now you’re telling us to upend our lives like criminals and abandon everything we’ve built.”
More people nodded.
“I say you’re unfit for leadership,” Raphael said.
Gabriel looked at Elias, who hadn’t spoken a word. “It saddens me that you’ve let an outsider come between us.”
“Elias led a cell of freedom fighters in Greece. He knows how to counter human violence.”
“All his people are dead. That’s some leadership.”
Elias’s features tightened, but he remained silent.
“They were killed by the Brotherhood, just like so many of our kind were,” Raphael said. “Now the Brotherhood is finished; you said so yourself. We have to stand our ground, not run like rabbits.”
Gabriel chuckled.
“It’s a mistake to laugh at me.”
“Then don’t make preposterous statements. What would you have us do? Fight the government of the United States of America? We’re outnumbered by millions. And this isn’t the dark ages, Brother. Modern man possesses technology our ancestors never had to worry about. Satellites. Heat sensors. Drones. Once they know who we are, they can wipe us out without setting boots on the ground. Our hunters have never been so sophisticated. Any aggressive action taken by us will result in our genocide.”
Raphael narrowed his eyes and softened his voice. “You’re quick to blame Fortier, the Brotherhood, and Gomez, but your own actions may have brought this scrutiny upon us. Your proposal to disband the pack proves you’re unfit to sit at the head of the table.”
Gabriel gestured at the council members. “Look around you. Do you see soldiers in this room? Freedom fighters? These are working-class men and women with children to raise. They’re not going to fight some insane war that we can’t possibly win.”
“I’m not asking them to; that would be foolish. But I am asking them to stay put, to live their lives among their own kind.”
“And who will lead them? You?”
Raphael waited only one second before answering. “Yes.”
“You never used to be so ambitious.”
“It’s the right of anyone in the pack to challenge your leadership.”
“You lost that right when you left the pack. Now you’re a rogue like Fortier and Gomez. You have no more say in what we do from this point on than Elias does, and I remind everyone in this room that Elias indoctrinated Fortier into his cell and sent him here in the first place. As political advisors go, he leaves a lot to be desired.”
Raphael moved closer to Gabriel. “This isn’t about Elias. It’s about you and your inability to lead.”
“Don’t do this, Raphael,” George said.
“Shut up, old man.”
“If your father was alive, this would break his heart.”
“Don’t use sentimentality against me.”
“This is bullshit,” Micah said. “You don’t get to break from the pack and then try to take over it.”
Raphael gave Micah a dismissive snort. “I do if I win this challenge.”
“There hasn’t been a challenge to leadership since the Greater Pack was united,” Bennett said. “No one will follow you just because you picked a schoolyard fight. That’s no way to lead in this day and age.”
Raphael sneered at Bennett. “Don’t be so sure, grocer. I’ve already reached out to several people
in this room. I have supporters.”
Gabriel glanced at the council members and wondered which ones considered betraying him.
“I’m calling you out,” Raphael said. “If I win, my right to lead will be legitimate.”
Micah crossed his arms. “If you beat him, I’ll challenge you.”
Raphael smiled. “I’ll enjoy that . . . in one month’s time, as stipulated by the law of succession.” He turned back to Gabriel. “I always follow the law.”
Gabriel saw there was no dissuading his brother. “I have no intention of fighting you.”
“Then you forfeit?”
“Never.”
Raphael slapped Gabriel. “I challenge you for leadership.”
Gabriel’s lips parted, and his teeth grew longer. Raphael dove at him, and the two men crashed into the chalkboard.
The council members jumped to their feet and rushed forward.
Carl zoomed in on the action inside the meeting room. He had no idea what was going on or why Raphael Domini had struck his brother, but the clandestine fight had gained his full attention. The people who rose from their seats blocked his view of the brothers. He couldn’t tell if they cheered the fighters on, but none of them tried to stop the contest.
The brothers reappeared, clawing at each other, and went out of focus. Blurred, they tumbled into the hallway beyond Carl’s view.
“Damn it,” Carl hissed.
Ten seconds that felt longer passed.
Two battling figures staggered into camera range, and Carl blinked twice. They wore human clothing, but they didn’t belong to the human race. Each stood seven feet tall, his head and claws covered with black fur, jaws opening to reveal long teeth. The creatures snarled at each other, their pointy ears pinned back.
Werewolves, Carl thought. Fucking werewolves!
In his excitement, he bumped the plywood that covered the window, and the plywood tipped over, its crash on the cement echoing in the alley. Holding his breath, Carl froze.
The Frenzy Wolves Page 13