The Judah Black Novels Box Set

by E. A. Copen

  My mouth worked, but it took me a few tries to get out what I wanted to say. “You’re not going with the pack?”

  “There will be other full moons for me.” He pulled open the front door and gestured to it with his cane. “Now, come inside. Nina wants to show you how to use the oxygen just in case.”

  Inside, Ed, Mara, and Valentino were at the kitchen table. Mara was rubbing Ed’s shoulders. Leo was on the floor behind them, banging two pillows together. Only Mara looked up when I came in, and I gestured for her to follow me into the living room. Mara, Leo and I would be staying behind while the rest went out. Well, I guessed Chanter was going to stay now, too, but it was his choice. I told myself he wasn’t staying because he had to but because he wanted to. It was easier for me to accept than thinking of him as too weak to shift.

  We went into the living room where Nina was waiting. While Chanter went to sit in the recliner, she hurried me through the basics of running the oxygen machine. It was pretty straight forward, I thought, but she made me do it once while she watched, just to make sure I understood.

  After she was satisfied with my ability to turn the knob on the tank, she nodded, crossed her arms, and addressed her father. “If you’re staying and Saloso is taking Hunter, who’s going to lead the hunt tonight?”

  Chanter ignored her obvious power play in favor of Valentino. Instead, he gave her a dismissive wave. “Get everyone together in here. We need to have a little chat.”

  Over the course of the next ten minutes or so, the living room filled up. Mara and I slid to the back of the room. No one else took the empty spaces on the sofa next to Chanter. They sat on the floor, on their knees and cross-legged, facing Chanter. Hunter came in with Sal but broke off to stand with Mara and me. Sal stepped gingerly to the front and sat down on his knees just inches away from Chanter.

  Chanter rolled his eyes over the room, each person stilling as his gaze fell on them. “I will not be going on the hunt tonight.”

  A roar of objections followed. Sal and Valentino locked eyes.

  Chanter held up a hand, quieting the room. “I wasn’t finished. We’ve long been in closed-door talks about Hunter. All of you have made your opinions known on whether or not he belongs here. I know there are a lot of personal feelings, many of them guided by past events that don’t even concern him. Tonight, you will put them aside. It’s time we made him an official prospective member of the pack. Saloso.”

  “Yes, Alpha,” came Sal’s answer.

  “You brought him to us. These past months, you’ve acted as an informal guide. Are you willing to make a formal bid as his sponsor into this pack?”

  I reached over for Hunter’s hand and tried to wrap my fingers around it. He jerked it away and folded his arms.

  Sal glanced back at us before answering. “I am.”

  Chanter nodded. “Are there any objections? Speak now or else hold your tongue.” In the crowd, Nina shifted, digging an elbow into Valentino, who shrugged her off. “Nina,” Chanter barked. “Something to say?”

  She lowered her head. “I was only wondering about the timing of this. With you staying home and Saloso going off with a prospective member, who will lead the hunt tonight? Are you sure now is the right time?”

  “Are you questioning my leadership?”

  “No, Alpha.”

  “Are you objecting to Sal’s sponsorship of the boy?”

  She shook her head.

  “Then be silent,” Chanter told his daughter with a frown before turning back to address Sal. “Very well, Saloso. His successes will be yours and yours his. His failures are now yours and yours his. Hunter, do you understand?”

  Hunter uncrossed his arms. “Yeah. I mean, I think so.”

  “Hopefully, it will be clearer after tonight. You will go with Saloso and do everything he orders of you. Your future with the Silvermoons depends on it. Everything you do, know we are watching you. Act as if we are. Do you promise to do that, boy?”

  Hunter cleared his throat. “Yes, sir.”

  “Good,” Chanter grunted. “Now, as to the matter of who leads tonight. Valentino, you seem eager to prove yourself. Take the pack out tonight. Bring back something worthy of your time.”

  Valentino lowered his head a little before answering. “Yes, Alpha.”

  I glanced around the room, amazed again at how everyone transformed in semi-formal situations like this. Their faces were solemn, reflective, as if they were sitting in a church and not Valentino’s living room. Chanter ceased being a friend, a father, or an uncle. He was an alpha, and each of them owed him their attention and respect.

  Chanter gave a dismissive gesture with his hand. “Judah, Mara, Leo…You’ll sit with me. The rest of you, you have your assigned tasks. I will see you at dawn.”

  The pack filed out the back door and into the fenced-in yard. It was dusk, and a good wind was blowing. The gate to the yard was undone, and the wind was blowing the handle into the hitch with a gentle, metallic tap. I followed as far as the patio, standing in silence as everyone except Sal and Hunter stripped off their clothing and started to shift.

  I used to have nightmares about the sounds and sights. When they shifted, werewolves weren’t reborn. It was more as if they crawled out of their human skins, shaking off the blood like water. They let free a beast with jaws and claws, capable of killing full-grown men. By the sounds of it, it was painful, too. The cursing and cries of anguish made me wonder why anyone would ever choose to shift as they do. As it had been explained to me, not shifting was just as dangerous. It led to all kinds of negative health effects. To hear Sal and Chanter tell it, failure to shift was a leading contributor to the high number of werewolf suicides. For them, it was either the momentary pain of shedding one skin for another or long, drawn-out emotional torment faced alone.

  I hoped the shift would do Hunter some good, help him sort out some of those negative emotions. There was no cure for teenage apathy, and I didn’t expect it to go away overnight. Still, I hoped being a part of something like the pack would get Hunter to open up more. Ever since he’d been kidnapped and nearly killed by two wendigos, he’d become even more distant. One of them had eaten the meat right off of his finger. The exterior injury had healed, but he was broken inside. I thought counseling would help, but he wouldn’t talk. Eventually, we just stopped going. Perhaps all the emotional support he needed was that of a pack. I watched him on the edge of the patio, standing next to Sal, shifting his weight from one side to the other, wondering if he was as nervous as I was about how this night would go for him.

  “What are you going to do?” I asked Sal when he came to stand next to me.

  “I’ll put him in the truck. We’ll drive out to the middle of nowhere and get a fire going. If it were Chanter, he’d spout a bunch of Indian mystic bullshit, but I don’t think the kid’s going to respond to that. I’m going to give it to him straight. He needs to pull his shit together and man up.”

  I turned to face him. “What if this doesn’t work? What if he doesn’t respond or things get worse?”

  “I’m not going to let that happen,” Sal answered firmly. “I promise you. Hunter is safe with me.”

  “I know. I trust you. It’s just…”

  “Nerves?”

  I nodded. “He’s my only son, Sal.”

  “I know,” Sal said with a small smile. “You’d go to hell and back for him. You pretty much did last summer. I’d hate to have been on the wrong side of that righteous rage.”

  He grabbed my hand and squeezed it until it hurt before bending down to try to kiss me on the cheek. I turned my head away, not even thinking about it. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to be close to Sal. I didn’t not want it, either. I just couldn’t afford it, not with my job. And he needed a clear head to make it through to Hunter. I didn’t want those lines to get blurred.

  I didn’t want things to progress beyond friendship between Sal and me, no matter how I felt. There are times when I hate my stupid feelings. By moving away,
I’d sent a loud and clear message, one I hadn’t bothered with before. I’d been leading him on all this time. It was time to stop.

  Sal stopped short and recovered awkwardly, cleared his throat, and rubbed the back of his head. “You take care of Chanter and that elf until I get back.”

  “Will do,” I said with a tight-lipped smile.

  He let me go and called to Hunter, “Come on, kid. We’ve got places to be.”

  I felt a little guilty as I watched them pull away, but I kept it to myself. My head had to be in this case if I was going to make it out alive.

  Chapter Fifteen

  A short while later, Chanter and I opened the doors to the shed. Mara had Leo in her arms, and I had the fold-up playpen. Outside, it was a warm, comfortable, and clear night with a light breeze. The moon was big and full in the sky, giving us plenty of light. Still, Chanter brought out an old oil lantern and placed it in the corner of the shed, casting shadows over Creven.

  The elf’s cheeks were pink. His chest rose and fell with the rhythms of sleep, but he didn’t stir when we came in. An IV drip was still going, though the bag was almost empty. Chanter pulled it down and swapped it out for another while I set up the playpen.

  I watched him intently after snapping everything in place. “Everyone around here sure knows a lot about medicine. I’m not sure I could sew up wounds and change IV bags.”

  “You pick things up,” Chanter said in a flat tone. “Werewolves like to fight. That means we also have to patch ourselves up.”

  Mara couldn’t stop staring at the heavy bandages over Creven’s stomach, even after she lowered Leo into the playpen. “Holy shit. What happened to him?”

  “Impaled with iron thanks to a giant,” I said quietly.

  “A giant?” Mara whispered in a breath.

  “Yeah, and he looks better than the first few victims.”

  “Get those lawn chairs, girl,” Chanter said, pointing to some old green folding chairs. I pulled them down off the wall and handed them to Mara, who set them up at the entrance to the shed. Chanter sank into one and asked, “How many are dead now?”

  “Let’s see,” I answered, sitting next to him and leaving the one on the end for Mara. “Harry Continelli, the vampire, Annie Cox—”

  “Annie?” Mara put a hand over her mouth.

  “Did you know her?” I asked, turning to Mara.

  She nodded gravely. “I mean, sometimes I still go in there, to Aisling. I remember. She was pretty. Always asked for ID, so I had to drink virgin when she was working.” Mara directed her attention forward into the empty street. “I can’t believe someone I know is dead…”

  “More than just her now,” I added. “There were also three bodyguards and a whole company of private security. It’s got to be over a dozen people now.”

  “And you mentioned you thought it was fae,” Chanter said. “What makes you think that?”

  “He gave me three chances to stand down. He also said he was under oath to kill Kim. Took it pretty seriously. When I stood in its way after the third warning, that’s when he attacked. He was almost pleasant, except for the part where he tried to kill us.”

  “Kim,” said Chanter in a voice that told me he was deep in thought. “You mean Kim Kelley?”

  “Creven works for her,” I said, gesturing to the elf behind us. “I thought at first he was behind this considering he’s a pretty powerful practitioner and that he’s fae as well but…”

  “But why would it attack its master?” Mara asked.

  “Once some fae creatures are bound by honor to complete a task, nothing short of death can stop them,” Chanter answered. He checked the oxygen tank nearby and adjusted it before lighting a cigarette and puffing on it. “Oaths are binding in a magickal sense. There are likely consequences if he fails. The creature’s honor is on the line.” He turned to me. “You keep calling it a giant. How big was it?”

  I shrugged. “Twenty, twenty-five feet tall. What do you know about the connection between giants, supernatural cold and zombies?”

  Chanter sat back in his chair, mouth turned down in a deep frown. “Tell me everything from the beginning. Leave nothing out.”

  I told Chanter everything I knew about the case, beginning with what I had seen at Aisling. When I got to the part where it attacked us at Kim’s mansion, he sat forward, pursing his lips and resting attentively on his elbows.

  “Why Kim?” Chanter asked after I’d finished.

  “I understand about Harry,” Mara said, wrinkling her nose. “Guy sounds like he deserved what he got.”

  “Annie didn’t deserve it,” I pointed out.

  “If Kim and Harry were both targets, then it stands to reason whoever has bound the giant to his oath holds a grudge against both parties.” Chanter stroked his chin in thought.

  “Right,” I continued. “But the pool of people who knew both Harry and Kim is pretty shallow. Harry was a foreigner. Outside of Crux and Crux’s blood slave, he barely seems to have interacted with anyone outside of Aisling. That’s got to be the connection. Someone at Aisling is holding the giant’s leash.”

  “What about Robbie?” Mara asked. “You said he thought he was being cut out of a deal. If he felt like he was being cheated out of money…”

  “Robbie wouldn’t do it at Aisling. That’s too close to home. He wouldn’t wreck his business, not after he went to the Stryx to save it even after Kim wouldn’t.”

  “A foreigner…” Chanter said, still in thought. “From where?”

  “Well, Crux is from Italy. But I don’t think he lives there anymore.”

  “And this blood slave of his, where is he from?”

  “I’m not sure it matters,” I answered. “Crux has him under his thumb so tight, he’d barely talk to me. And when he did, Crux beat him for it.”

  I found myself clenching my fists at the memory of it. Sven had such fear in his eyes. I’d seen people like him before, victims of years of mental and physical abuse, so broken they ceased to have their own identity or will. He was a slave in every sense of the word now.

  “The more and more I hear you talk,” said Chanter, shifting in his seat. “The more and more I hear about Sven and Crux. Sounds like you’ll need to talk to them again, Judah.”

  “Have you ever heard of anything like this, Chanter?”

  He puffed on his cigarette in thought. His answer was a thoughtful grunt.

  Mara pulled out her phone and started furiously typing into it. “So, you think these undead things are actually, what? Some kind of super zombie?”

  “I guess,” I said with a shrug. “Why?”

  Just then, a loud howl pierced the night followed closely by a chorus of more. I couldn’t tell where the voices were coming from, but I could guess what they meant. The werewolves had caught the scent of something. The hunt was on.

  Chanter stood, tucked his hands into his pockets, and paced a few feet forward without the use of his cane, his figure haloed by the full moon. “The internet will not have the answers you seek, child,” he said, kicking some discarded sidewalk chalk.

  Mara lowered her phone.

  “Do you know what this is?” I asked him.

  “Many people around the world spoke of giants that inhabited the Earth in the time before men. But there is only one I know of that spoke of what you describe.”

  “Well, what is it?” asked Mara on the edge of her seat.

  He knelt and began to draw with the chalk. I rose from my seat and went to watch him write. When he was finished, he took a step back and looked at me.

  I paused as I leaned over the letters he’d drawn. Not all of them were letters still in use today. Had I been anything other than a linguistics major in college, I wouldn’t have been able to pronounce it at all. Even with my background, though, I stumbled through the unusual letters and their strange combinations. The name felt awkward in my mouth. “Hrimthursar? What’s that?”

  “A creature from the Icelandic sagas. The revenants you are deal
ing with sound like draugr,” said Chanter, looking down at me.

  “But it is fae, right?”

  “Old fae,” he answered gravely. “Powerful fae with terrible magick.” He looked at me and added, “You’re going to need more than iron to deal with this one.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chanter knelt and scratched the name out with more chalk, working at it until the big piece was just a powdery stub. His wrinkled and leathery shoulders shook with effort as he lifted himself back up. I didn’t know exactly how old or powerful Chanter was. My only source was what I could observe in his aura. When I first met the man, I took a peek and found he was surrounded by the swirling, pulsating power of an aura that rivaled any I had ever seen.

  Yet, he wouldn’t speak the creature’s name, nor would he allow it to remain on the sidewalk for fear it would draw its attention. He was afraid. After what I had seen at the Kelley mansion, I didn’t blame him.

  “Chanter,” I said, my voice barely a whisper on the light breeze. “What is this thing?”

  “I can’t be sure that’s what it is. There are still pieces that don’t fit. The energy I felt infecting your ankle, for example. It was definitely fae but not like I have ever known.”

  He started for his chair and then paused, coughing so hard he doubled over. I rushed to Chanter’s side, holding him up and helping him back to his chair. In a shaky rush, I worked to get the oxygen tank running while he kept on coughing and gasping. Leo began to stir in his playpen and, against the low whine of an angry one-year-old, Chanter spat a mouthful of blood onto the pavement. I paused in getting the oxygen tank up and running, deciding whether this fit warranted further medical treatment. He would refuse it, I knew, so I just finished prepping the oxygen and helped him slip the tubing over his face and ears.

  It took him several minutes to recover but, when he did, he tossed his cigarette out on the driveway to smolder. Then he leaned over toward Mara and said, “And that, dear girl, is why you shouldn’t smoke.”