Fangs of Vengeance

by Aaron Henley

  Steve’s eyes went wide. “Wait. Slow down a second. Husband?”

  “That’s right. Married three years now. Not the most chatty fellow I’ll admit but he certainly makes up for it with his brains. When he talks, you better listen.” She punched his shoulder with a small fist. “Still, you didn’t have to tear into his shoulder like that. Tears me up seeing that mess you did every time I change his bandages.”

  Becca or I would definitely feel the same way if either of us got hurt. “Sorry but he didn’t give me much choice. He did kinda start it.”

  “Only because he was defending me. Think about it. Some strange werewolf suddenly appears in the building that you just broke into. Wouldn’t you think they had just sent the guard dog out after you?”

  “Can’t argue with you there. But what were you doing there in the first place?”

  She hopped up onto a three-legged stool next to the bed and met his gaze. “Tell you what. You ask a question, I answer. I ask a question. You answer. Sound fair? Anything’s on the table. Just to show you I’m a good sport, you go first and we’ll get to why each of us were somewhere we weren’t supposed to be in a bit.”

  “That’s fair I guess. I mean, I’m not going anywhere for a good while it looks like,” he said glancing at his cuffs. “Just where am I?”

  “Our home. It’s the Howling Moon tavern. We’re deep in the Chesterfield Forest about 200 miles southeast of Seattle. Okay. My turn. What’s your name?”

  “Steve Harper. And yours?”

  “Lexi Bloodtooth. Nice to meet you Steve.”

  “Nice to meet you Lexi. So I’m guessing you took your husband’s name?”

  “Kinda hard to mistake isn’t it? Though Bob Sparkgear does have a nice ring doesn’t it honey.”

  Bob grunted.

  “Tell you what, I’ll let you have another question.”

  He pointed to her black leather vest. “You guys some kind of biker club?”

  “Yep. The Dragon’s Bane. We’re kinda like Robin Hood and his Merry Men and the town of Chesterfield is our Sherwood.”

  “You rob from the rich and give to the poor?”

  “Uh-uh, that’s a second question. But I like you. No, we’re more the unofficial law around here. We mainly keep out the big rats - drugs, abusive pimps, heavy weapons. Every once in awhile someone will come to us to help deal with a problem the cops can’t or won’t. Got it?”

  Steve nodded.

  “Okay. My turn. Who’s Becca?”

  Steve went white then blushed. “How did you hear that name?”

  “You were mumbling it when I walked in. It was also about the time little Steve came to attention. So she must be someone special. So who is she?”

  Steve took a deep breath. “My fiancé. She’s gone now.”

  Lexi immediately guessed what he meant by “gone” from the way his body shook and his face teared up. “I’m sorry. Was it recent?”

  “Two weeks ago.” Lexi’s large eyes widened even further. “That’s why I’m here. Why I was at the truck depot. Lexi, Becca was murdered and I’m trying to find her killer.” He then spent the next half hour explaining everything that had happened since the wedding rehearsal. Lexi just sat there quietly. When she started to tear up, Bob knelt next to her and handed her a tissue. “So that’s what I was doing there. Trying to find a lead to hurt Lilith and maybe where she is storing Becca’s body. She’d need some kind of refrigeration equipment so maybe while I was in the depot I could have found some shipping records or purchase orders or something. I hadn’t even really thought about it then. But I ran into Bob and you know the rest.”

  Lexi wiped a tear and blew her nose. “That’s pretty damn romantic Steve if I’m honest. Moronic but romantic. I know Bob would probably do something similar if something happened to me.”

  “I hear dragon tastes like chicken.”

  She smiled sweetly at her husband. “Thanks you big green oaf.” Lexi turned back to Steve. “I don’t think you mean us any harm. I’ll talk to Kurt and Ayla. See if we can’t get you out of those cuffs and dressed. Though it is a shame,” she gave a long lingering look up and down his body, “you do look good in your boxers.” Steve blushed.

  “Hey before you go Lexi, can I ask you something pretty personal? It’s been bugging the heck out of me since you told me you were married to Bob.”

  “You want to know how we have sex?”

  “Guess you get asked that a lot huh?”

  “It’s all right. A gnome and an orc aren’t a usual couple in our world. The short answer is carefully and we make it work. The long answer I’ll tell you when you’re older. Now let’s see if we can get you off that bed and into the shower. I don’t know about Bob’s sense of smell but mine is just about gone from sitting her so long.” She hopped down and started heading for the doorway. On the way out, she slapped Bob’s rear and as he looked down she said, “Better eat double at dinner babe. I’m feeling frisky.” Waving her hand through her pixie cut pink hair, she fixed him with her gaze. Bob grinned and Lexi strode out the door. Steve half expected the orc’s face to shatter from the effort.

  Chapter 11

  “Stupid Cub. He’s more likely to get himself killed than anything. He’s read way too many comic books. Heroics like that only lead one place - the county morgue.” Kurt Parker said to the tall woman laying next to him. It was later that night. Steve had been released and, after a shower and hot meal that didn’t come from a paper wrapper, he immediately turned in. He was staying in the same room he had been held prisoner in but the house only had the one guest room so he could take it or leave it. He still hadn’t found out the reason the group had been at the depot but just then he was too tired to care.

  True to Lexi’s word, she and Bob had just spent the last hour or so having sex and were now talking quietly to each other. It didn’t bother Kurt of Ayla any as they had long since gotten used to it and it wasn’t the first time either couple had used the sounds coming from the thin dividing wall between them to get themselves in the mood. If it embarrassed the Cub, then he’d just have to put on his big boy pants and grow up. The twins, Mark and Michelle Stonebreaker, a pair of dwarves, had their own place under the large hill about a stone’s throw from the Howling Moon’s parking lot. Most people accepted the story of it being a smokehouse to explain away the chimney and door sticking out of one side.

  “You’re right. All he is going to end up doing is end up in a pine box. If he’s lucky that is. Still, you got to admit that it takes guts to even attempt something like that even knowing how unprepared he is.”

  Kurt ran a hand up her left cheek, through her hair, over her ear and started rubbing the pointed tip at the end between his thumb and fingers. “Don’t be getting any ideas. We’ve got our own problems to deal with.” Ayla started breathing heavy as he kept rubbing one of her favorite hot spots. “Thanks to that Cub, we weren’t able to get the entire download. We can’t keep hitting every truck that comes through Chesterfield. They’re either going to wise up and move the route or use another depot entirely. You saw what they’re carrying. You know we won’t let that stand. No one traffics people, let alone scared teenage girls through my town. No one.” He growled.

  Ayla began tracing her fingers over his chest, running her fingers over the hard muscle. “We’ll have to try again. Unfortunately, they’ll have beefed up the security. There’s going to be a lot more than some guards armed with nightsticks and cameras next time.”

  Kurt shifted a little and started massaging Ayla’s other ear. She knew he was just planning and not really paying attention to her. He always rubbed things when he thought. It was one of the countless things she loved about him. She just made it a rule that if they were in bed and he started planning, she had better be the thing he rubbed. Eventually, he’d settle on his course of action, all the major details at least sketched out and then he’d thank her for her patience in all the right ways. Finally, he leaned down and kissed her forehead. “We’re going to n
eed someone on the inside to do some reconnaissance. It’s the only way to see what we’re going to deal with. The downside is that it’ll have to be at least a month, maybe two before we can though. The heat is too high right now. They’ll be jumping at their own shadow for awhile. Damn it. Stupid Cub. Richard should have kept a closer watch on him. He has no idea how things work in the real world. We can’t even risk a hijack. God forgive me for those who are going to get through while we wait. I swear I’ll find them. I just hope there’s someone left when we do.” He said softly.

  Ayla pushed herself up and kissed him. Her brown eyes smoldering as she looked into matching ones. “A wise man once said, “Sometimes you lose a battle, it sucks. When it happens, you better make sure to win the damn war then.”

  “Now where did you hear that Ms. Shadowmoon?” Kurt asked as he ran a hand down the elf’s bare thigh. “Almost sounds poetic.” His hand dipped to her inner thigh, massaging it gently, the top of his fingers gently brushed her outer lips.

  “Some wolf I know.” She reached up to bring his lips to hers and the two enjoyed a long deep kiss. After they broke apart, they pressed their foreheads together. After a few heartbeats, Ayla spoke in a soft voice dripping with sensuality, “Now, are you going to do something with that hand or will I have to take care of it myself?”

  “Yes ma’am.”

  ***

  He was enjoying his dinner. There was Pops telling some story of him when he was a baby running around the house naked to try to get a rise out of him. It worked as he suddenly choked on a piece of lettuce. He looked over the table at Becca knowing he was blushing furiously. She smiled that little grin of hers that stopped his heart every time he saw it. She reached out to pat his hand and he looked down at it. He gasped in shock. Instead of the soft warm flesh touching him, he watched as her hand rotted away. The skin graying and flaking to reveal the muscle underneath which started coming undone into tattered ribbons before it too turned to dust. All that was left were the bones which quickly started to fall the table into a pile. He looked up at Becca, his mouth wide open. Her face was quickly repeating what happened to her hand only much more gruesomely. Her auburn hair fell out in large clumps, her ears and button nose shriveled and fell to the table, her eyes dissolving into lumps of goo that ran down her cheeks. Only the bottom half of her face was untouched. That smile he loved still on the ghastly remains of her face. “Sweetheart, why didn’t you save me?” He woke up screaming.

  He sat up in the bed with his hands pressed to his face. He was soaked in a cold sweat. The droplets poured off his bowed head to splash against the light gray comforter. He could feel his wolf pacing around nervously. He was looking for a threat that didn’t exist and he didn’t like it. He heard someone knock on the door. “May I come in?”

  It took Steve a moment to find his voice. “S-sure,” he answered shakily. The door opened and Ayla walked in. She wore a simple white blouse and a pair of tan shorts. Her hair tied in a ponytail. She handed him a glass of water that he accepted and gulped down greedily. She sat on the stool. Steve handed her the empty glass. “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome. That must have been some nightmare. I heard your scream clear out in the kitchen.”

  “Considering the bedrooms are furthest from there, it must have been something. Sorry about that.”

  “Don’t be. These ears of mine pick up quite a bit you know.” She pointed to the long tip of her left ear poking out of the thick brown hair. They stood out a good six inches away from her skull tapering into a slender tip.

  “I guess so.” Steve slowly smiled. “They have to be murder on hats though.”

  The elf smiled. “Oh, they quite flexible. It’s not as difficult as you might think. I couldn’t wear a helmet if they weren’t. Plus we have a few ways to handle our---eccentricities you might say. Otherwise, Bob wouldn’t be able to go anywhere. Kind of hard to imagine our Green Giant walking down Main Street without raising a fuss isn’t it?”

  “Yeah.” Steve took a deep breath. “I just can’t believe that all that elves, dwarves, orcs, and gnomes are a thing. I thought us werewolves were the only uh…”unusual” race out there. I feel like I just walked into some Tolkien novel.”

  Her slender eyebrow arched. “Where do you think he got the ideas from? Though the orcs aren’t really big fans of his. They’re not quite as bloodthirsty and savage as he made them out to be. Also, no orc women? Really? Some even had the crazy idea of filing a discrimination suit against his estate. When they realized just what would be made public, they quickly abandoned it.”

  Steve whistled at that while Ayla laughed.

  She looked him over carefully and met his eyes. “She must have been someone special,” she said softly.

  “Yeah. She is --- was --- my whole world. I owe it to her and her parents to bring her home.”

  “Some would call that crazy.”

  “You do crazy things when you’re in love.”

  Ayla smiled softly but it almost seemed sad to Richard. “You do at that. You do at that.” She stood up. “The shower’s free right now. I think you could use one. After that, head on downstairs. I’ll tell Charlie to fix you whatever you want.”

  “Charlie?”

  “The best short order cook in the state bar none. Only the best here at the Howling Moon.” Smiling, she left the room.

  With nothing else better to do, Steve took her advice. He spent a good while in the shower; letting the hot water burn the chill out of his bones. He returned to his room and found the clothes he had in his backpack washed and folded in neat piles. Gotta find some way to pay these guys back. Grabbing a solid black T-shirt and a pair of jeans, he quickly dressed and went downstairs. The stairwell led to a hallway that stretched the length of the building. He could see an office on either side and a large door leading to the tavern. He opened it and saw the large black sign with the word “Private” in white inscribed letters screwed to the tavern-facing side of the door. He walked through it into the main dining room. Most of the open space was dominated with square tables in neat rows, upturned chairs stacked neatly on them. He turned left and headed to the bar that took up a good three quarters of the wall with a pair of swinging doors taking the other quarter. There was a serving window cut into the wall for the bartender to grab orders and allow customers to see Charlie at work. He saw Michelle polishing the bar with her brother Mark washing glasses and dusting the bottles of liquor nestled neatly on shelves between the window and doors. As he took sat down on one of the green upholstered stools, he could see Michelle standing on a little box and Mark was using a stepladder to reach the higher shelves.

  “So you’re up and and about eh,” the blonde dwarven woman said. “It’s about time. You’ve spent half the morning dozing in bed while the rest of us are working. Ayla said you were going to have breakfast. That’s fine but afterwards, you’re going to work for your room and board. Got it?”

  “Got it. Could I have some eggs, toast, and a slab of bacon?”

  “Sure.” She turned her head slightly to the window. “Yo Charlie! Eggs, bacon, and toast. Kurt-sized.

  “No problem ‘Elle my dear.” The large tan man spoke with a cajun accent. “Comin’ right up.”

  “Want some coffee,” Michelle asked.

  “Sure.” As Michelle poured him a cup, Steve asked. “So you guys aren’t exactly what I picture when I think “Biker Gang”.”

  She shrugged and Mark, his back to Steve, scoffed. “Bikers are just like everyone else. There’s good ones and bad ones. Chesterfield had a few bad ones. We chased them out when we rode in. Turned their old clubhouse into the Moon here. Not a bad deal. There’s a problem in town that can’t be handled, you talk to Kurt. If he’s feeling generous, he may help. We cleaned out a lot of the riff-raff in town so the cops leave us alone. All in all, it’s not a bad life.”

  “Sounds like a pretty good one to me.” Michelle kept polishing as Steve sipped his coffee. Mark hopped off the stool, placed it into a
slot under the bar, and went into the kitchen. Pretty soon, Steve could hear the sounds of water running and dishes clanking. Michelle topped off his cup when Charlie called out, “Order up!” and placed two large plates loaded with about a half dozen eggs, a full package of bacon, and six slices of toast.

  Steve grinned. “Looks like you know how to feed a werewolf.”

  Michelle shrugged. “We should. Kurt’s one.”

  As Steve started digging into the eggs, he asked, “Which pack is he from?”

  “None. He’s a rogue.”

  “What? A rogue? Really? Huh.”

  Michelle’s right blonde eyebrow quirked up. “That doesn’t bother you? Really? Most werewolves would be storming out the door trying to put their claws into his throat right about now.”

  Steve swallowed. “He let me crash for a night. Plus---” he bit a chunk of bacon in half. “I’m not about to let this get cold.”

  Michelle grinned and returned to her polishing.

  After Steve finished everything, he stacked the plates and handed them to her. She handed him a broom and dustpan in return. “Start with the dining room then head out to the porch. There’s a trash can behind the bar and one outside. Once you’re done, change the bags. Dumpster’s out back behind us. After you finish sweeping, you’re mopping. I’ll have the mop and bucket ready for you. Just put the broom in that corner there,” she pointed to the corner behind the bar. “If you finish that, I’ll find something else for you to do. Sound good?”

  “Sounds good.”

  Steve spent the rest of the morning doing his chores. He welcomed the monotony of it. It helped keep his mind off everything. For the first time since the night of the attack, he started feeling like himself again. He finished right around lunch. After a really nicely spiced chicken sandwich, Michelle placed a bundle of clean rags on the bar and handed him a large bottle of wood polish. “Start with the chairs, then the table. Do it one table at a time or you’re never going to get done before we open. I’ll take the left side, you do the right. You miss a spot and it’s coming out of your hide.”