by Karen L Mead
“Where are you going?” asked Miri, getting up to follow her.
“Work; I can’t face going home right now. If Dwight can use me, I’ll punch in.”
If she went home, instead of the freaking out any self-respecting set of parents should have been doing, Annette and Jon would just look at her with blank stares—like they’d been doing for going-on five months. Admittedly, she’d enjoyed the break from parental overprotectiveness for a while, but now, she couldn’t stand it anymore; anytime she looked at one of her parents, she felt like she was overflowing with guilt for what she’d done to them. More importantly, Hunter couldn’t stand it anymore either, and that was why it was going to end, soon.
Just one more day, then Sam will be back from his trip and we can all talk it out over dinner. One way or another, I’ll make them understand, and we won’t need the spell anymore.
Hoping it would be that simple in reality, Cassie walked into the doorway of Dwight’s office with Miri close behind. “Hey, Dwight.”
“Did you bring Dumbo with you?” asked Dwight, typing something at his computer with his back to her.
“Don’t even! Look, do you need me to punch in? I’m too wired to go home.”
“I could use another pair of hands for at least the next couple of hours.”
“Great,” said Cassie, genuinely relieved. She went back into the break room and opened her locker, where she always kept a clean apron, bobby pins, and some hand sanitizer.
“This is like some kind of Stockholm Syndrome,” Miri noted as Cassie fastened her apron around her waist.
“That’s ridiculous,” said Cassie, knotting a little bow in the front.
“Who comes into work at a retail job when they aren’t even scheduled?”
Dwight stepped out of his office and cleared his throat.
“Uh, Cassie? Been meaning to ask. You haven’t been taking any packages of whole beans home with you, have you?”
“What? No, of course not.”
He looked at Miri, who rolled her eyes at him.
“What, like I would steal your lame coffee? If I was going to steal anything, it would be the bottles of hazelnut syrup.”
“Good to know,” Dwight said, then looked back to Cassie. “I keep ending up a couple of bags short, every time I check in an order. Trying to figure out what’s going on.
“And you thought I was stealing stuff?” Cassie said, hurt. “You know I wouldn’t do that.”
“I know!” Dwight said, shrugging. “I don’t think anyone here would. That’s why it’s so weird.”
He took his sunglasses off, a rare occurrence for him when he wasn’t performing, and scratched behind his ear.
“Just, uh, just keep an eye on the coffee bags and let me know if you see anything suspicious, okay?”
“Sure.”
Dwight nodded and went back into his office.
“Maybe your elephant is also stealing the coffee,” Miri murmured. “Perhaps there are no limits to his pachyderm powers.”
“Not gonna lie, I’m impressed that you know the word ‘pachyderm,’” Cassie said as she went out to the front. She put on some latex gloves and began wiping down the counters, some of which were a little stained with cinnamon and syrup.
In less than a week, Cassie would learn the reason behind the disappearing coffee. Unfortunately, when she found out, she would be in no position to tell Dwight about it—or anyone else, for that matter.
Chapter Four
Sam followed the directions he’d been texted, only to wind up at a run-down building in one of the more decrepit neighborhoods in D.C. At first he wondered if there was a mistake, since it seemed like the kind of place where a man like Donatello Arrigio wouldn’t be caught dead, but he shrugged and went with it. After spending a few days in the nation’s capital learning how the Western Court really operated, nothing seemed that weird anymore.
It was a relief to learn that the Court didn’t have the kind of control over politics that Sam had feared, yet on the other hand…Court was so logical and organized, to a fault. Maybe a demon-run government would be an improvement?
Shaking his head at the flippancy of the thought, he walked through a graffiti-covered door. Inside, the building was devoid of furniture, but clean, with freshly painted interior walls; clearly, someone had begun restoring it. A tall man in an earpiece and an impeccable suit greeted him at the door.
“Sir Guardian: Welcome. Mr. Arrigio awaits downstairs.”
“Thank you.”
Sam walked down two long flights of concrete stairs, then found himself in a cavernous basement that was nearly as devoid of furnishings as the upstairs had been. The only difference was that about half of the scuffed concrete floor was covered with blue exercise mats, where four men and one woman were silently standing in a line. Arrigio and three suit-clad attendants were standing across from the lineup, talking quietly, when Arrigio noticed Sam’s arrival.
“Good, we’ve been waiting for you,” Arrigio said. His voice was casual, but Sam felt like something was just slightly off about the older demon’s tone.
“Come here and let me introduce you to our recruits.”
“Recruits?” I do not like the sound of this. Not that I expected to.
When Sam had taken up position next to Arrigio, the older man gestured to the lineup of people standing at attention. The “recruits” had uniformly blank expressions, which Sam recognized as barely controlled terror. They were all wearing loose, cheap clothing, the kind of clothing you wouldn’t mind destroying if you happened to do some violent shapeshifting.
“Their names are Reggie, Liz, Enrique, Tom, and Vijay.” He gestured to each recruit in turn. “All of them signed contracts, of their own free will, that they would give themselves to the Court upon payment of certain sums; all debts have been paid, all children and other family members well-provided for. We own them, legally and completely.”
“I see,” said Sam, trying to keep his voice from betraying his disgust.
“All of them are healthy, in good shape, and have been screened for any form of magic resistance. All should make good candidates for lycanthropy, although the decision of who to turn is ultimately yours.”
That’s…that’s it?
“So, that’s…you want me to try to turn one of them into a werewolf right now? Just like that?”
“Well, I know it’s not quite that easy,” he said, turning to one of his aides. “Bring Connor in here.”
One of Arrigio’s aides went and opened a side door down at the far end of the basement, and gestured to someone on the other end. A burly man in a tank top entered, leading three large gray wolves on some kind of compound leash. The wolves sniffed the air and licked their chops, but seemed otherwise calm. The man called Enrique began to panic, and one of Arrigio’s men went and steadied him. Enrique let out a string of curses in Spanish, and the aide produced a syringe from a back pocket and stuck it in his arm. Enrique’s cursing was quickly reduced to a low whimper.
“There’s no need to be afraid; these wolves are highly trained animals, used in films. They won’t attack anyone.”
“You brought real wolves for me to use as a model?”
“Yes, that’s the idea. Of course, turning people into weres is still largely uncharted territory, so I freely admit that we may not be fully prepared here. If there are any supplies that you need, or that might simply be helpful, please let me know; we can get anything very quickly.”
So that’s it. He really expects me to turn one of these poor schlubs into a werewolf, right here. He doesn’t mess around.
Sam took a deep breath and looked at the recruits. He didn’t know what he’d been expecting, but it hadn’t been this.
“Just out of curiosity, how many of you are dentists, or work for a dentist?”
Three of the men raised their hands; Enrique didn’t, but it was possible he was just too heavily sedated to hear the question.
Sam turned to Liz. “What about you?”
“I’m an orthodontist,” she said in a quavering voice.
“Oh. You could have just said yes to the dentist question.”
“No. They are two distinct fields.”
As out of place as it was, her professional pride made Sam smile thinly. He turned to Arrigio.
“Are you sure they signed up of their own free will? Because it sounds like these are just people who you picked up at the last Court meeting…the one where the real dental convention was going on at the same time.”
Arrigio shrugged mildly. “What difference does it make? Wherever they were found, they all signed. They made fully informed decisions.”
“And I’m sure there was no element of entrapment whatsoever,” Sam said quietly.
Arrigio turned to him, piqued. “Your sarcasm is unappreciated, and I would advise you to stop pressing this point, Sam. We have all the paperwork, and as you can see, none of the candidates are requesting release. Morally, we are in the clear.”
“Oh for--!” Sam was at a loss for words for a moment. He had been planning to play along until he had figured out what he was going to do, but Arrigio’s gall had crossed a line. “You found some people with horrible debt, something like that, right? And you honestly think that makes what you’re doing acceptable?”
“What we are doing,” corrected Arrigio, “and yes. They had needs, we met those needs, and now we extract payment. I seem to recall explaining some of this to you at the Pentagon the other day; don’t make me repeat myself.”
His voice was soft, but the implied threat was clear. Sam ground his teeth, then tapped Arrigio on the arm and motioned that he should step away from the others. The Chairman indulged him, and soon the two of them were standing at the foot of the stairs, out of earshot of the recruits and Arrigio’s staff. Sam crossed his arms, aware that his body language was making him look defensive, but he didn’t care.
“Okay, fine, so let’s say I agree that this is all perfectly legitimate. Are you going to level with me about why you need a werewolf so badly?”
Arrigio paused, choosing his words carefully. “They have many potential uses. We want one to use as a kind of prototype. If we like what we see, they could eventually replace vampires.”
“And you’d go to all this trouble, for that? Do you have some bone to pick with the vampires, maybe with Eugene?”
“Absolutely not. But one of my duties, as Chairman, is to investigate any potential resources--”
“It’s funny. All week, you’ve been bringing me into the fold, showing me where the bodies are buried…literally, in some cases. But on the Lupine Project, you’re treating me like an outside contractor you don’t trust.”
“I don’t trust you,” said Arrigio. He said it flatly, like what he was saying should already be obvious. “You’re young and impulsive, you don’t know your own strength, and you’re loyal only to your witch, who is even younger and more impulsive. I don’t dislike you personally, for whatever it’s worth, and I’m still indebted to your help in Las Vegas. But I would be a fool to trust that you will act in the Court’s best interests.”
Sam was kind of taken aback; not that anything Arrigio had said had come as a shock, but his bluntness was unexpected.
“Then why even bring me here, if you can’t trust me?”
“Because we can help each other. I need someone for tasks you’re…uniquely suited for, you need some security from the Court so you and your witch—”
“Cassie.”
“—so you and Cassie, as well as her friends, can have some peace. I’m sure you don’t want to repeat the last six months of constantly fighting for both of your lives.”
“No,” Sam said quietly, looking down and away from the Chairman.
It’s true, we can’t keep living like this. But if I become the Court’s go-to guy for horrible magic like this, I’m going to lose her anyway. There has to be a better way.
Arrigio took a deep breath through his nose, then sighed. “Go home, Sam.”
“What?”
“I can see you’re not mentally prepared to do this today, and we’ve finished our itinerary here, otherwise. Go back home to your sandwich shop—”
“Coffee shop.
“—Whatever it is. Go back home to your coffee shop, see all your little friends, and think.”
Arrigio took a step closer to Sam, so their faces were practically touching. Sam wasn’t really afraid of the other demon, but he still had to stop himself from backing up instinctively.
“Think about how it’s your job, as Guardian, to protect everyone. Think about how you’d feel if these arbitrary morals of yours stopped you from doing that, and a great evil went unchecked. Think about never seeing Cassie again, knowing it was your stubbornness that killed her. Because that’s what’s going to happen if we don’t all work together, I guarantee it.”
Arrigio motioned to his attendants, who began walking the recruits out of the basement; the man handling the wolves nodded at some unseen signal and began to lead the animals back to where they had come, and Arrigio himself turned to leave. Sam just looked at Arrigio’s retreating back, dumbstruck.
“You think you can just say something like that, and walk away? Don, tell me what’s really happening!”
He took a step toward the other demon, planning to spin him around to face him, but two of Arrigio’s men grabbed his shoulders and held him back. For a fraction of a second, Sam was tempted to kill them, but realized it wouldn’t accomplish anything. As usual.
“You are dismissed, Sir Guardian,” said the Chairman. “Have a pleasant flight home.”
Chapter Five
When she went up to bed, Cassie noticed that her mother was sitting on the couch in the living room, reading a magazine. Annette looked up.
“Hi, baby. Ready for bed?”
Cassie took a deep breath.
“Mom, the SATs are in less than two weeks and I’m afraid this elephant is going to crash the test. Like, I’ll just be sitting there, with my pencil case, and this magic baby elephant will run through the school, and the test will be cancelled, and I’ll be all over the internet again.”
Annette yawned and looked back down at her copy of Cooking Spicy.
“That’s nice, dear. Don’t forget to brush your teeth.”
Cassie sighed and went upstairs. She was beyond sick of keeping her parents in this magically-induced zombie state, and it was past time she did something about it. But she couldn’t do anything until Sam got back, and in the meantime she’d just have to continue dealing with the guilt. She knew it was safer for her parents if they didn’t know what was going on with her, but lately, it didn’t feel like it was worth it.
She slept fitfully that night. She kept thinking of Teddy, and how sad he’d looked when she tried to pull away from him. When she could get her mind off of the elephant, she wondered what Sam was doing down in Washington, D.C., and if the lack of contact from him on this trip was a good or bad sign. She wondered how many views the video of her online would get until the whole thing died down.
She eventually fell asleep, after much tossing and turning, but would later wish that she hadn’t.
She was having some ordinary, nonsensical dream at first—something about playing hopscotch as a child in the school courtyard with Jay, as well as some of the characters from a TV drama she occasionally watched—then the familiar environment of her old elementary school melted away. She was sunning herself on a rock, as her ancestor had done in the time of the Great Flood, listening to the sound of the ocean currents. She was dipping her feet in the salt water, shivering slightly in delight as tiny fish nibbled at her toes.
Everything was beautiful, all golden sunlight gleaming off the waves and cloudless, powder-blue skies, except something about it wasn’t quite right. When she breathed in, her eyes snapped open immediately in alarm. Where the air should have been salty and bracing, instead there was an overwhelming chemical smell.
This isn’t really the o
cean, this is a prison. They just made it look this way to try to trick me. And why does it smell like chlorine?
She jumped to her feet, although there wasn’t much room to stand on the rock. As she did, many figures rose from the water, making tiny waves as they did so. She couldn’t quite make out their features—they were too blurry and indistinct to be recognizable as anything but large, gaunt figures with long, cadaverous limbs and strange shapes where their heads should be. Their incomplete being seemed especially odd in contrast to the vivid blue sea and sky that surrounded them, an environment perfect in every aspect, save for the noxious smell of the air.
Oddly, one of the figures turned and seemed to be looking over its shoulder, as though it sensed something behind it. A moment later, it turned back around, as though deciding that there really wasn’t anything back there after all.
Cassie gulped as they surrounded her; she had never seen so many at once. She couldn’t count them, not here, but it felt like there were dozens of them.
“Nice visual,” she said finally, gesturing to the water that surrounded her. “But it’s a lie. I know where we are.”
Where is where we are?
They were speaking as a group; not quite in unison, but close enough.
“Tartarus. Helen told me. I looked it up; it’s a place where God sends Angels who have disobeyed.”
We have disobeyed?
“You have. You’re the Watchers: you had children with the daughters of men—with humans—and you weren’t supposed to. Then your children turned into huge monsters, and all the good Angels had to slaughter them.”
Not all of them.
“No, not all of them,” said Cassie, bracing herself. She jumped in, then gasped as the frigid water hit her bare skin, but still, she felt better; she didn’t want to be any closer to these things than she had to, but right now, it felt safer to be in the water. She blew bubbles underwater for about thirty seconds, where the Watchers weren’t visible, then surfaced again. When she opened her eyes, there seemed to be twice as many of the things, circling her. There was no sign of the rock she had been standing on a moment ago.