by Marc Daniel
Before Michael had a chance to mention that the woman had recently lost her husband, there was another knock on the door.
Chapter 8
The woman climbed the three steps leading to the apartment front door in front of three male students staring at her ass in silent admiration. She’d selected the dress for this very purpose and wasn’t surprised about its effect on the opposite sex.
Inside, a dozen men and women in their early twenties were grinding to the sound of what this generation called music. A few more were scattered across the entire apartment, chatting and laughing. Most held cups that had been filled from the keg sitting in an ice-filled plastic tub in a corner of the living room.
This bothered her a bit, but not enough to make her change her mind. She’d walked into this party with a purpose in mind and wouldn’t leave before finding what she’d come for.
Her long raven hair and flawless body turned heads wherever she went.
She walked straight to the improvised dance floor, which consisted of the living room and half of the adjacent kitchen, and started shaking her curves under the envious eyes of the male audience. It wasn’t long before she found herself sandwiched between two broad-shouldered students moving in sync to the music.
Although both held beers, one of them was noticeably more drunk than the other. She picked the sober one. She always did.
Thirty minutes later, the two of them were on the back seat of his car parked on the side of a small farm road a few miles outside Bozeman.
Straddling the man, her dress rolled up to her waist, she moved back and forth in rhythm, enjoying every moment of it. Judging by the beatific smile on the student’s face, he was having a pretty good time too.
She was getting close, she could feel it, the orgasm slowly building up. She congratulated herself on her pick. The man had lived up to her expectations in every possible way.
As she finally came, she moved her mouth closer to the man’s neck and sank her fangs into his carotid.
The flow of blood rushing through her mouth made the orgasm ten times more potent than it would have been in its absence. This was the only way to fuck in her book.
Although the blood was tainted by the presence of alcohol, it was still a very acceptable vintage.
The man’s screams only added to the fun as did his futile attempts at pushing her away. As if he stood a chance against her. Hundreds had tried before him over the centuries. None had ever succeeded.
Chapter 9
Standing in the middle of Michael’s kitchen in his usual cloak and pointy hat, Ezekiel was staring intently at his friend. “Well, it doesn’t look like you’re dying. Not today anyway.”
“Good evening, Ez. It’s nice to see you too. To what do we owe the pleasure?” said Michael.
Ignoring the question, the old wizard walked to Sheila. “Good evening, my dear. It’s a pleasure seeing you again.” He took her hand and delicately brought it to his lips.
“Good evening, Ezekiel. I’m glad to see you, too; it’s been too long. Should we move this party to the living room?” she asked Michael.
They all transitioned to what Michael called his living room: a room barely a hundred square feet with a sofa, a beat-up armchair by the fireplace and a large bookshelf bending under the weight of hundreds of volumes.
“So, what brings you here?” asked Michael again, hoping to finally get an answer from his friend.
“I came to check on your health. Obviously!”
“And how did you know there was anything wrong with me?”
“Who do you think I am? A wizard of the second circle can just sense these things.” Ezekiel’s tone was overdramatic.
“Here we go again…”
“That, and you were on the news,” added the wizard.
“I was on the news? I don’t remember seeing any camera.”
The wizard raised his eyes to the ceiling, shaking his head in disbelief. “They mentioned a ranger had jumped into a hot spring to rescue a kid. That’s all the information I needed. You’re the only one dumb enough to do something like that. And I don’t mean in the park. I mean on the planet!”
“Fair enough… But how did you know I hadn’t recovered just as I would have from any other injury?”
For a fugitive moment, the wizard seemed to hesitate before regaining his bravado. “I’ll have you know—”
“Cut the crap, Ez,” interrupted Michael. He stared at Sheila who’d suddenly turned as red as the tight sweater she was wearing: a sweater that nicely emphasized her petite figure and perfect breasts. “You called Ez? You know how to contact him?” he asked, bewildered.
“Leave the poor woman alone, Michael. No one can resist my natural charm. She never stood a chance. Luckily for you, I only use my power for good and my interest in your girlfriend was pure as snow.”
Michael shook his head in disbelief. “Thanks for clarifying.”
The wizard ignored the sarcasm and settled in the armchair with a sigh of relief. He played the old man’s part very well. Michael would have almost bought the act had he not seen Ez being just as convincing in the part of a twenty-year-old hiker a few months earlier.
“I was worried about you. I thought maybe Ez could help with your problem…” Sheila said, walking towards Michael and passing her arms around his waist.
Michael, who wasn’t big on public displays of affection, felt slightly awkward. That is, until Ez decided to comment on the situation and made him feel a lot more uncomfortable.
“Joking aside, what’s going on with these legs of yours?” asked the wizard eventually.
Michael shrugged. “Not a clue. They just won’t heal. The pain is mostly gone b—”
“In case you don’t speak Biörn, ‘mostly gone’ means a normal person would only scream at every other step,” interrupted Sheila.
“Don’t worry, Sheila, I understand,” answered Ez in a conspiratorial voice. “I’ve been studying the individual for some time. I can read between his lines. The fact he’s even mentioning pain is worrisome on its own.”
“Would you ladies prefer I leave the room, so you can chat more freely about me?”
“Does it look like you’re slowing us down?” asked Ezekiel.
Michael simply took a deep breath.
“So, this is the first time your body doesn’t heal itself within an hour or so, correct?” continued the wizard.
“Correct. At least when it hasn’t been pumped full of wolfsbane first,” added Michael, remembering his near-death experience after the Shadow Pack Alpha had shot him with darts filled with a pure extract of the plant, a potent poison to all praeternatural beings.
“Could you have been exposed to wolfsbane after your accident?” asked Ezekiel.
“No. For it to have such an effect on me, the exposure would have to be significant. I’d have noticed if this much wolfsbane had gotten into me. But I must be the first recorded case in the history of werebear soaking in a sulfuric acid bath, so there’s no telling what the effect should be.”
“If sulfuric acid turns out to be poisonous to praeternaturals, your kind will reach extinction faster than anticipated. The stuff is a lot easier to procure than wolfsbane extract.”
“I’m not too worried; my kind is well past extinction.”
“You don’t know for a fact that you’re the last werebear alive. There may be a few more out there… And I meant werebeings in general, not just werebear.”
“There really could be more werebears alive?” asked Sheila, surprised.
“It’s highly unlikely. I haven’t met one in centuries.”
“But you don’t advertise your existence yourself, Michael,” said Ez. “They could be in hiding… Anyway, show me your legs!”
“He doesn’t even buy you a drink first?” said Sheila as Michael was undressing.
“I’ve seen mummies looking better than those…” said Ez, taking a closer look. “I’m not detecting any magical energy. It doesn’t look like you were c
ursed.”
“Well, that’s a relief. I really thought that kid had somehow compelled me to jump into the hot spring to rescue her.”
“So why isn’t he healing?” asked Sheila, preemptively interrupting the escalation of sarcastic comebacks between the two friends.
“How would I know? I’m a wizard, not a vet,” said Ez, clearly proud of his joke.
“I believe they are healing, just incredibly slowly. Same thing with my nose; I feel like my sense of smell is slightly better than it was yesterday, but so slightly that it’s difficult to be certain.”
“Your nose was impacted too?”
“I think the acidic fumes fried it. But once again, I’m not sure why it hasn’t healed yet.”
“There something fishy about all this. Though I can’t figure out what exactly,” said Ez pensively. “I’m going to be traveling for the next few days, and I may not be easily accessible. But I’m glad I stopped by to have a look at you. It won’t kill you, but I wouldn’t go splashing about in another spring in the near future if I were you.”
“I’ll do my best—thanks for the advice. Where are you heading?”
“East Coast,” answered the wizard, getting out of his armchair. “A Fida’I commando is believed to have entered the country in New York a few days ago. I need to go see what this is all about.”
“Fida’I?” asked Sheila. “The Palestinian group?”
“Different ones. The Fida’I are professional assassins,” explained Michael. “Any idea about their target?”
“Not yet,” replied the wizard. But it’s bound to be a serious one for them to be involved.”
“Odd that I’ve never heard of them,” said Sheila.
“I’m not really surprised. They aren’t exactly mainstream. It’s a secret and ancient organization dating back to the Crusades. It originated in Persia, but their reach is global today.”
“All their members are handpicked amongst the most lethal praeternatural beings,” added Ezekiel.
“You mean werewolves and such?”
“I doubt werewolves would make the cut,” said Ez. “They’re usually more like werepanthers, sorcerers and the like.”
“I wonder if I really want to know everything there is about your world,” said Sheila.
“Ignorance really is bliss,” replied Ez, chuckling.
Chapter 10
Led by Helen Fletcher, the five summer interns moved at a brisk pace through the wilderness of Yellowstone National Park. They were still following a hiking trail at the moment, but three miles into the hike, they had yet to encounter another hiker. The trails found in the park’s backcountry were mostly deserted, especially when compared to the busy boardwalks and nature discovery paths spread out along the main roads.
Michael had accepted Helen’s request to tag along as the path she’d planned would bring them close to the area where their homicidal poacher had vanished a few days earlier. Michael wasn’t done with him, not by a long shot—even if he had to admit that, at the moment, he had no idea how to catch the man.
They reached a small rock formation vaguely resembling a human skull and Helen signaled for the group to stop. “This is where we’re going to go off trail. Take out your compasses and maps. It’s time to practice what you’ve learned yesterday.”
The interns dropped their backpacks and pulled out their topographic maps and navigation compasses.
“You are going to form two teams, so pick partners.”
“Should we mix the guys and girls or reenact the battle of the sexes Survivor style?” asked a brunette named Elodie who couldn’t be an inch over five foot and probably weighed less than Michael’s average breakfast. Her English was good but, from having spent much time in the country himself, Michael easily identified the light accent as being French. The pop culture reference to Survivor was completely lost on him, however.
“Let’s mix it up,” replied Raj, a twenty-two-year-old male born in India and currently studying at Penn State. “Kewanee and I will pair up,” he added, stepping closer to a woman of Native American descent answering to the name of Kewanee Bates. Raj’s eyes suggested he was more interested in finding his way to the young woman’s pants than to the rallying point. And based on the look on Kewanee’s face, the feeling wasn’t mutual.
Olivia must have noticed the woman’s discomfort as well because she chimed in, “Kewanee and I are already together, Raj.”
The statement brought visible relief to Kewanee’s face and disappointment to Raj’s. Michael also felt a vague relief for reasons he couldn’t quite identify. Kewanee reminded him of Wawetseka. The young woman had been about Kewanee’s age when she’d died all these centuries ago.
Aside from Olivia who’d entered the intern program on Michael’s reference only, Kewanee was the only student who’d not applied to the program via the normal channel.
Helen had been unable to get in touch with one of the original applicants they had selected, and before she could reach out to one of those on the waiting list, Kewanee had walked into her office and asked for a job. She appeared very qualified for the position, so Helen had bent the rules and agreed to hire her for the summer.
“You can tag along with me, Raj. I’m not as hot as Kewanee but neither are you, and beggars can’t be choosers,” said the French intern. The woman wasn’t stunning but she was attractive in her own way. Fit and toned, she looked like someone who worked out without overdoing it.
“Alex, you can pick whichever group you’d like,” said Helen.
Alex, the Russian intern, elected to go with Kewanee and Olivia.
“Good! Now, here are your roadmaps,” said Helen, handing each group a legal-sized photocopy of a topographic map marked with red crosses. “Each team will need to go to the three locations indicated on their respective maps and take a picture of the landmark located at each point. You’ll then come back here for debriefing and we’ll all get back to basecamp together. Any questions?”
“Is this a race?” asked Raj.
“It’s not a race, but if you guys aren’t back in three hours, you’re on your own…” replied Helen, who didn’t appear to be joking.
The two teams studied their maps and headed to their first landmark.
“I think I’ll follow the Indian kid’s group,” said Michael once they were all out of sight.
Helen nodded. “I’ll follow the others. Let’s give them a ten-minute head start so they don’t know they’re being followed. I don’t want them to think they aren’t on their own.”
“I’ll take advantage of the opportunity to have another look at the area where the bastard disappeared since it’s on the path the kids are following.”
“Let’s just say that my choosing of the landmarks the teams are to connect wasn’t completely random…” said Helen, looking at Michael knowingly. She was scratching her burnt arm through the opera-length glove she constantly wore. “How are your legs doing?”
“Better.”
“Have you been using the treatment I brought you the other day?”
Michael hesitated a second too long.
“I’ll take that as a no,” she said, laughing. “Well, since we have a few minutes to spare…”
She pulled a small plastic jar out of her backpack and peeled off her glove. Her hand and forearm looked rough, but Michael’s face remained perfectly neutral. His legs weren’t looking much better anyway.
Helen started applying the ointment to her burnt arm. “It really feels great. I don’t know what they put in it, but it instantly soothes the pain.”
“It sure does stink at any rate,” joked Michael, wrinkling his nose. He was maybe imagining things, but his sense of smell appeared slightly more sensitive today than it had been yesterday.
“Don’t laugh. You’re next!” she said, pointing at his legs. “Remove your pant legs, it will only take a minute.”
Michael sighed heavily but obliged; he wasn’t in a mood to argue. He was wearing hiking pants of the kind one
converts into shorts by simply unzipping the legs.
“That looks familiar,” said Helen, staring at his disfigured legs. “But I think you got off easily. Your legs don’t look worse than my arm, which was only in the water for a split second.”
She squatted in front of him, jar in hand, but got back up right away, blushing. “Maybe you should do that yourself,” she said, handing him the jar and wiping her ointment-coated fingers on her own scars.
Unsure of what had just happened, Michael grabbed the jar and started applying the ointment on his right leg. Within seconds the constant burning was fading away in the area where he’d applied the medicated cream. Not completely, of course, but it was still a big improvement.
“That stuff’s good!” he said. “But I suspect garlic is one of the main components… Gosh, it stinks!”
“It really does, but the smell goes away quickly, and the soothing effect will last a couple hours, so it’s worth it.”
Michael agreed; he’d never had to use any type of prescription in the past, so he had no reference, but this stuff was amazing.
“We’d better get going,” he said, zipping his pant legs back onto his shorts.
*****
Michael had hoped to be able to detect the scent of the two kids he was in charge of chaperoning, but his hopes had been in vain. They’d walked this very path a few minutes earlier, but his nose was unable to detect any trace of them. Even the ointment’s garlicky smell had vanished. Though this was probably normal based on what Helen had said.
He started heading towards the first landmark at a leisurely pace, looking out for any details the poacher might have left behind. But without his nose to steer him in the right direction, it was just about hopeless. After all, he hadn’t noticed the strong mountain lion smell that had been following the group earlier and was following him now.
Chapter 11
A.D. 1659
Sitting outside his cabin overlooking Lake Michigan, Michael stared at the quiet surface of the water. His eyes often drifted to the four-year-old toddler playing on the beach a hundred feet away, but the little Wawetseka didn’t need supervising. The water was quiet, and she knew how to swim.