by Craig Zerf
The next afternoon The Twins came around to check on their number one source of income only to find that they were now the proud owners of a fire blackened building plot, as opposed to a swinging, money-making house of ill repute.
Needless to say, neither twin was that impressed with the protection that the Capo had promised. Actually, it would be reasonable to say that they were not impressed at all.
The only thing that was consoling them was the fact that the second most profitable part of their operation, an opium den and drug wholesaler in Fulham, was still operating at top speed and making more money than ever before.
That next morning they received the news that the opium den had been burned to the ground. The clients had been spared but the drug dealers themselves had all perished in the blaze.
The Twins decide that it was time to call the Capo.
***
Big Ben was waiting for The Twins when the escalator doors opened. Nathan had decamped into Mister Stopes’ penthouse and Ben had become his right-hand-human, go-to-man and personal slave. The huge cockney was a shadow of his former self. His thick head of hair had visibly thinned to the point that he had affected a loose comb-over. His round, stolid face was now a mass of loose skin, jowls and scowls. And his suit hung on his frame like a giants robes upon a dwarfish thief.
In short, Big Ben was now medium Ben. Working closely with the Nosferatu obviously did not become him.
‘Come in,’ he greeted. ‘The master awaits.’
The Twins walked into the main reception room, joining a group of another ten men. They recognized a few of them. Only a few short days away they were the opposition. Now they all worked under the auspices of the Capo.
Nathan strode into the room. ‘Greetings,’ he said. ‘I know why you lot are here,’ he continued, pointing at the ten men. ‘Some sort of deposition. But you two, for what do I owe the pleasure?’
‘We have a problem,’ answered Barry.
‘A few problems,’ added Larry.
‘As do we, Capo,’ interjected Jack Barlow. ‘I used to run a firm of thirty lads, east of the river. Protection and the like.’
‘So?’ Asked Nathan. ‘What’s the problem?’
‘Well as of this morning I only run a firm of fourteen. The rest are either banged up in jail, absconded due to being too scared to venture out onto the streets or, worse, dead. Even the ones I got left ain’t much use to man or boy. They hear a loud noise and start bloody whimpering.’
‘And whose fault is that, mister Barlow?’ Asked Nathan.
‘Well it’s not mine,’ argued Jack. ‘I ain’t done nothing different. It’s those things that are patrolling the streets at night.’
‘What things?’
‘I dunno,’ admitted Jack. ‘The stories that my men have told me don’t rightly make sense.’
‘What things?’ Insisted Nathan.
‘Monsters,’ said Jack. ‘Wolves the size of horses. People that aren’t actually people ‘cause they too strong and fast and I’m told that they can fly.’
‘Yeah,’ added Paul Levy. ‘And a witch. Or something.’
‘A witch?’ Questioned Nathan.
‘Apparently,’ insisted Paul. ‘She looks like a young girl but actually she’s like the worst of all of the monsters. She can be in two places at the same time and she just has to look at you and you die. Or so they say,’ he ended lamely.
‘And who are…they?’ Asked Nathan. ‘Please tell.’
‘Well, them, you know,’ said Paul. ‘The people in the know.’
Nathan smiled. ‘So,’ he said to himself. ‘Emily has come out to play. Excellent.’ Then he walked over to Jack. ‘I suspect that your discipline has become rather lax,’ he said.
Jack shook his head. ‘No,’ he denied.
Nathan hit him on the side of his face with an open hand. The sound of his jaw breaking was audible over the crack of the slap. ‘I was speaking,’ said Nathan. ‘Now, go back to your lads. I am sending one of the Nightwalkers with you. He will explain to them that there are things that are more terrifying than wolves or witches. Then they will continue to do their jobs. Now go.’
Jack staggered from the room followed by one of Nathan’s Nightwalkers.
‘Bartholomew,’ called Nathan.
‘Capo,’ answered the Nightwalker.
‘Be firm but don’t break too many of them. Maybe two. Three at most.’
Bartholomew bowed. ‘Your will, Capo.’
‘The rest of you,’ Nathan addressed the remaining gangsters. ‘Go. From now on, bring me only good news. Any more of this unseemly whining shall be met with measures most harsh. And keep an eye out for the girl. It’s no good to me hearing half baked stories of her flying and going invisible. I want to know where she has been seen. When? By whom? At what times? Now go.’
The group left the room and filed onto the elevator, filling it to capacity.
Except for The Twins who hung back.
‘Capo,’ said Larry. ‘We need to talk.’
‘Why?’
‘Since you have taken over our family business, we have lost both the knocking shop and the drug den. To all intents and purposes – that’s eighty percent of our business. We’re as close to broke as we’ve ever been.’
Nathan shrugged. ‘Oh well, then what use are you to me? Two middle aged, talentless, unemployable men, lacking in moral fiber and looking for a handout.’
‘No one would have dared attack us when Mother was still around,’ said Barry.
‘In fact,’ interjected Larry. ‘Until you came along and ruined everything, no one was attacking anyone. Now, for some reason, you seem to have brought down the wrath of the gods on us all. What the hell is going on, Capo. I mean no disrespect but we need to know or how can we react?’
‘How can you react?’ Laughed Nathan. ‘What can you do to stand against the Pack? Don’t be pathetic, you mere mortals cannot stand against what has been unleashed. Even with my full protection you would struggle to survive. But that’s not a problem. I never did expect any of you to make it through this ordeal. But as long as the girl is in play then all is going according to plan. And now, things are afoot. So,’ continued the Capo. ‘What to do with you two pathetic peons?’
The Twins ran for the stairs at the same time.
Nathan let them get far enough to almost believe that they had a chance of making it before he struck.
They both tasted exactly the same.
Chapter 27
Nathan had collated all the info that he had on Emily but it didn’t help him much. She had been sighted in so many locations in London that he could see no pattern to her movements at all. It seemed that she simply was there whenever something was going down. And usually something that involved GBH or physical harm to someone, as opposed to a break-in or willful destruction of property.
‘So, Ben,’ said Nathan. ‘What do you make of this?’
Ben’s left eye twitched, and he flinched slightly when Nathan spoke. But he knew better than to ignore the question. When the Capo asked, you answered.
‘It’s like she knows, master.’
‘Knows what?’
‘She knows when something is happening. She never gets there before the event. She doesn’t know where our people are until they do something.’
The Capo stared at the ex-big man. Ben’s twitching increased under his master’s scrutiny and a bead of sweat rolled down his face.
Nathan smiled. ‘Very good, Ben,’ he said. ‘Very astute. So simple yet so easily overlooked. She can sense when something is happening. It’s like she has a violence radar.’
‘Or fear,’ added Ben. ‘A fear detector.’
This time Nathan laughed out loud. ‘Out of the mouths of morons,’ he commented. ‘Bloody brilliant. She’s sensing their fear. Probably a combination of both. The punter’s fear and the attacker’s elation, nerves, whatever. A unique blend.’ He leaned back in his chair. ‘I wonder how she does it.’ He asked himself.
> Then he stood and patted Ben on the head like a dog. The cockney squirmed in his seat. Thankful for the praise while, at the same time, disgusted with himself and the fear that he felt for the Capo.
‘Bartholomew,’ shouted Nathan.
The Nightwalker appeared at his side like magic. ‘Yes, Capo.’
‘Put together three teams. One Nightwalker in each and fifteen Bloodwraiths. Then tomorrow night, around midnight, I want them at three separate areas in London. Then each team needs to find a small group of people, anyone, take them into a dark and secluded place and torture them. Odds are that Emily will sense at least one of the attacks and come running. Tell the teams to take her down hard. But don’t kill her. Make sure they have chain, silver handcuffs, whatever restraints that they need. Then get her to our warehouse on the Isle of Dogs. That’s where we’ll interrogate her and find out what she has done with the Potestatum.’
‘It shall be done, Capo.’
‘And make sure that they box clever,’ instructed Nathan. ‘Lookouts on the roofs, a perimeter. This girl is dangerous and she could have help. Probably a few wolves.’
Bartholomew smiled. ‘There’ll be sixteen of us in each team, Capo. Rest assured, we shall prevail.’
‘Good, call me tomorrow night when she is at the warehouse.’
The Nightwalker bowed and left.
Nathan looked at Ben for a while, his hands steepled in front of him, expression thoughtful. Finally he spoke. ‘You have done well, Benjamin,’ he said. ‘And as such I have decided to bestow the ultimate reward on you. I am going to turn you. I am going to gift you with immortality and power beyond your wildest dreams. So let it never be said that the Capo does not take care of those who serve him.’
Ben’s eye stopped twitching and a look of obvious relief washed over his face.
He smiled.
Nathan smiled back.
Then Ben pulled a revolver from his jacket pocket and placed it against his own temple. ‘I’d rather rot in hell,’ he said. ‘You evil piece of crap.’
And he pulled the trigger.
Chapter 28
‘We’ve discussed this already,’ said William.
‘Not really,’ argued Em. ‘You guys spoke at me and told me what I was going to do. If I remember correctly, I agreed to think about it. Both Sylvian and Troy have been with me the last two times and now I want to go out by myself.’
‘Look, Em,’ said Troy. ‘Tell you what, let me come with. I promise that I won’t talk or get in the way.’
Em rolled her eyes. ‘Okay, fine. Whatever.’
The two of them left via the roof. Em pushed hard and Troy managed to keep up but had to morph into Wolfman mode to do so, tearing his clothes off as he ran.
They stopped when they reached the roof of the Shaftesbury Theater. Emily didn’t comment, but she was amazed that the young werewolf had remained with her as she had pushed as hard as she could, hoping to make a point.
Troy changed back and the two of them stood together, looking out over the capital city. They were close. So close that she could feel the heat from his body.
‘You know,’ she said. ‘I still can’t get used to the way that you wolf-dudes go around naked like its normal.’
‘It is normal,’ countered Troy. ‘And once you’ve changed then you pretty much don’t have a choice. And wolves don’t wear clothes.’
‘Yeah, granted,’ conceded Em. ‘But it’s different.’
‘Suppose so.’
Em could see Troy in her peripheral vision. His sculpted muscles. The night shadows throwing his chest and abs into stark relief. He had a slight grin on his face. Almost mocking.
‘If it makes you feel any better,’ he said. ‘You can always strip down.’
‘Ha, in your dreams.’
Troy nodded. ‘True, that,’ he said.
Em blushed. ‘Damn,’ she thought. ‘All this power and I still can’t stop blushing. Bastian would laugh at me.’
Then she felt it. From many directions at once. ‘What the hell?’
‘What’s happening?’ Asked Troy as he felt the weight of Emily’s emotions reach out to him.
She pointed. ‘There,’ she said. ‘And there and there. Groups of people. Innocents. Pain. Terror. They’re hurting them on purpose. Torture. It all started at almost the same time.’ Emily grabbed her head and squeezed. ‘It’s too much.’
‘It’s orchestrated,’ said Troy. ‘Why else would it start at the same time? To what purpose though?’
‘Whatever it is, we have to stop it,’ shouted Em.
‘Slow down,’ urged Troy. ‘Think. Which incident is the closest?’
‘There,’ answered Em as she pointed. ‘South-west. The others are much further away.’
‘Tell the Pack,’ said Troy. ‘Give them the general directions. Tell them all to move. We’ll take the closest one.’
Em blasted her thoughts out to the Pack. She could sense them howling in sympathy with her pain as they ran. Scanning. Searching. Hunting for the perpetrators of the evil deeds.
Then Em and Troy both felt the overwhelming strength of the Omega. ‘Wait,’ his command echoed in their minds. ‘It’s a trap. It must be.’
‘I know,’ said Em, ‘But there’s nothing else that we can do except spring it.’
‘No,’ returned William. ‘Wait for backup.’
Emily started running, ‘Can’t wait. They’re dying.’
Troy morphed into Wolfman mode and followed, stumbling slightly as his body refused to disobey his Omega. But then William released him from his thrall and commanded him to protect Emily.
The two of them were a blur in the night. Moving so fast they looked as though they were actually flying.
‘There,’ said Emily. ‘At the end of that alley. Looks like an old print shop. They’re inside. I reckon at east ten vamps.’
‘There’s more,’ growled Troy. ‘I can smell them. In the rooftops. Another three, maybe four. We can’t do this. It’s a definite ambush.’
Em shook her head. ‘We can’t not do it. They’ve already killed at least one innocent. Watch my back. I’m going in through the front. Shock and awe.’
***
Andy Vine had started the London Ghost Walk company back in 1992 and was considered to be one of the foremost Midnight Ghost Entertainers on the circuit. For ten Pounds per person he would regale a group of up to eight people with stories of terror while he guided them around the hidden areas of London.
He advertised his walking tours as ‘A Night of Terror that you shall Never Forget.’ It was a good bit of fun and many of his customers were repeats or were there via recommendations from their friends or colleagues.
Tonight it was a private tour organized by a Canadian businessman. It consisted of the businessman himself, his six top sales people and the secretary that he was having an affair with.
They were all experiencing a night of terror that they would never forget. Ever. Except perhaps for Bob Townsend, head of sales (Edmonton Division). And that was because Bob was already dead. His dismembered body lay in a small pile of assorted limbs, torso and body parts in the middle of the small warehouse.
The remaining seven tour members and the guide, Andy Vine, sat in a circle around the gory pile. Behind each stood a Bloodwraith. At the far end of the room stood a Nightwalker named Carl. Beside him the remaining three Bloodwraiths.
The Bloodwraiths in the circle were playing a game. Each took a turn to damage the person in front of them in such a way as to bring about the most pain, fear or damage without actually killing them. Because they knew, the more emotion they elicited from the victims the more chance they had of attracting Emily.
Already all the victims were bleeding profusely from numerous cuts and bites. One of the Bloodwraiths leaned down, ripped the secretary’s ear off and spun it across the room like a miniature Frisbee.
The other vamps laughed and there was a smattering of applause.
‘I wonder if you can do that with a
nose?’ Asked one of the vamps as he grasped the tour guides head and tilted it back. He reached down…
And the front door exploded.
There was a blur of movement and a spray of blood as the nose-threatening vampire was smashed against the far wall some twenty feet away, turning his head into a pulpy mash.
Deathwalker the axe appeared in Em’s right hand and a tornado of wind started up as she spun around the circle, hacking and cutting.
But these were no ordinary vamps. These were Bloodwraiths. The best of the best. And where Deathwalker would have beheaded a normal vamp, a Bloodwraith had already moved, so instead of a killing blow the axe delivered a heavy injury. Arms were lopped off, ribs sliced open and jaws hacked off faces.
Troy Wolfman leaped over the circle of death and attacked the Nightwalker and his three bodyguards, dispatching two of the Bloodwraiths in under half a second. Then the Nightwalker and the remaining Bloodwraith were on him, hacking and slashing with their extended talons. Troy kept moving, remembering Bastian’s training. Dancing, leaping and rolling constantly.
But these two were good and Troy was taking big hits. Blood streamed from multiple deep gashes in his flesh. His left wrist was broken and his ribs shone dully through the deep rents in his torso. But as he fought he rejuvenated. Flesh and bone knitting back together. However, it was taking its toll, pushing the Wolfman to the very edge of his limits. Exhausting him utterly.
He managed to get behind the Bloodwraith and, with a savage twist of his neck, he tore his head off. Then the Daywalker struck him. Troy flew through the air and crashed into the wall. Loose bricks and mortar fell down on him as he slumped to the floor. Never before had he fought anything so powerful. So fast. So unbelievably strong.
But he was Alpha. He was Pack. Troy threw back his head and howled. I am Pack. This is my territory. Beware.
Troy changed from his Wolfman mode and went full wolf. Atavistic and primal. An animal protecting his own. Primitive, pure and unique. The essence of the Pack.