Moonshine Wizard

by Phillip Drayer Duncan

  “Well, I’m a talking dog. Apparently, your friend thinks that’s pretty damn strange.”

  “Oh, get over it. You know what I meant.”

  “And you know my price.”

  Bert produced a milk bone from his pocket and tossed it to the dog. “All right, it’s time to start woofing.”

  “Really fucking funny, magic boy,” Hound said as he scarfed down the bone. “All right, here’s what I know… Nothing.”

  “Nothing? Then why the hell did you eat my bone?”

  “Because you tossed it to me, jackass.”

  “Ha!” Sharp said in his mind. “I love this guy!”

  Bert glared at the dog. “I’ve paid. Give me something better than that.”

  Hound made a very human sigh. “All right, look, I really don’t know what’s going on. Something big, apparently. There are a lot of power players moving around our area.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know.”

  “Okay, whatever this business is, it’s over your fat head.”

  “That has also been filed as shit I already know, Hound. Try again.”

  “All right, all right, may have something to do with the were-creatures. I don’t know anything for sure, but rumor has it they’re recruiting. They’re under new management. This new guy, Howard, sounds ambitious, from what I’ve heard. Taking in any lycan he can get. They still run out of the old factory.”

  Bert nodded. It wasn’t much, but it was something. “I’ll check it out.”

  “Good, now give me the rest of my payment,” the dog said, wagging his tail.

  “I’ll give you half. You choose...money or milk bone?”

  “What? You can’t jip me like that, you son of a bitch! I’ll blab to everyone about what you were here for.”

  “The half payment is for your silence. I’m not paying you for worthless information.”

  They stared at each other for a few moments, and Hound finally said, “Fine Waylon, give me the damn milk bone. Damn lazy bastard in the house will just spend the cash on beer anyway, or that poison you brew.”

  “I’ll pay you full price, plus this half, if you find me anything exceptionally useful. I’ll even throw in an extra milk bone because I know how much you hate having to get the fat man to use the phone.”

  Hound wagged his tail. “You’ve got a deal.”

  Bert tossed him the milk bone. “Pleasure doing business with you, Hound.”

  “Fuck off,” Hound replied as he tore into the milk bone.

  ***

  After leaving the farm they headed into Eureka Springs. On the way, Bert said, “It’s probably best if you stay in the car for this one.”

  “Why’s that?” Hunter asked.

  “Well, for starters, this one isn’t supernatural. This one’s completely human and doesn’t know a thing about the supernatural world.”

  “So why are you even going?”

  “He’s still a good information source. I mean, not generally the best one, but, maybe he’s got something.”

  “So, why don’t you want me to come with you?”

  “Well,” Bert said, “local cops aren’t big fans of Mills. He’s involved in some shady business. I mean... This guy basically runs the only thing in town you might actually consider a gang. Things used to be a lot worse. Mostly drugs. Thanks to Mills, though, there isn’t a major supplier anymore. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t have a hand in other shady things, but for the most part, he does his part to help the community. The local police don’t really bother him, but I just don’t think it would be a good idea to take an off-duty cop in with me.”

  “Seems reasonable. It sounds like you like the guy?”

  “Oh, we don’t get along at all. But sometimes he has information and occasionally passes me a legit job to make a few extra bucks.”

  “So, what’s the plan?”

  Bert pulled into an old parking space a block from Mills’s office. “You stay here and make sure nothing gets into my car.”

  Hunter frowned at him.

  “What? That does happen. Once there was a ninja. I’ll be back quick. Don’t worry. If you get bored, drive around. If you get hungry, hit up the funnel cake place.”

  Bert hopped out and headed down the street. Mills had a reputation for being a disreputable violent member of society, and no one really understood why he affiliated himself with the guy. His real reasons were his own and he intended to keep it that way.

  Mills’s office sat in a fairly nice Victorian building downtown. Bert strolled through, ignoring the stares of random people until he stood in front of Mills’s private office. He smiled at the receptionist. “Is he in a meeting?”

  “Um, well no, but he said he didn’t want to be disturbed.”

  Bert grinned. “Perfect.”

  Before she could stop him, he went into the office. Two scary-looking guards in business suits stood on either side of the doorway as he entered. Both glared at him with malice. He ignored them.

  The office was lavished with large leather chairs, some kind of large jungle plant in each corner, and an old oak mini bar. On the wall behind the desk hung a large painting of a tiger, as if it were crawling up the wall. It was a perfect picture to match the man.

  In the center of the room sat a giant oak desk, and behind it sat Mills. He wore an expensive pinstriped suit and had the look of a serious man, though he was only a few years older than Bert. His head was shaved and revealed a host of scars from a lifetime of fighting. His cold eyes glared at Bert.

  Bert smiled and made his way to one of the chairs in front of the desk. He plopped down and tried to look as comfy as possible. Mills’s glare hardened. Bert yawned and leaned back.

  “Did you want something? Or are you just looking for a comfortable chair?”

  Bert shrugged but didn’t respond.

  “I don’t have time for your shit. Tell me what you want or get the fuck out.”

  “Geez, I can’t just stop by and say hey?”

  “No.”

  “I can’t?” Bert frowned.

  “You don’t talk to me unless it’s business. I have meetings, so, tell me what you want or get the fuck out.”

  Bert glanced around the room. “Office looks nice. I like the jungle look. The guards are a bit much. They seem like good little puppies, though. You should dress them up in little jungle safari outfits so they match the furniture. Though, I still don’t think they’d fit. You should probably just do away with them.”

  Mills got the message and waved for the guards to leave. They were reluctant and glared at Bert in a silent warning. He grinned. “Oh, don’t look so glum, guys. Go order a cosmopolitan and caress each other until you feel better. Have yourselves a good cry.”

  One of the men headed for the door, but the other stopped and continued staring at Bert.

  Bert’s boyish grin grew even wider. “Don’t even think about it, sweetheart. You’re way out of your league.”

  The man’s face reddened and he looked like he was about to explode.

  Mills glanced up and said, “I thought I told you to leave.”

  Still staring at Bert, the man nodded and headed for the door.

  When it was shut behind him Mills said, “One of these days, one of my men is going to kill you.”

  Bert shrugged. “Just trying to help him build character.”

  “That man is an ex-Navy Seal killing machine. I don’t think he needs your help.”

  Again, Bert shrugged.

  Mills said, “Seriously, Waylon, I’m busy. What do you want?”

  Leaning forward in his seat Bert took a serious tone and said, “I’m working a case. I need information no one seems to have. Thought you might be able to help me out.”

  “I don’t suppose you’re working for Mack.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Don’t fucking lie to me, Waylon.”

  “I’m not.” Bert put up his hands in a show of innocence.

  “Really? Then why did m
y men just report seeing you come out of his club?”

  “Uh, probably because I just came from his club. Did they mention I waved to them?”

  “What? No. Goddamn it, Waylon!”

  “They were hiding in the bushes.”

  “You can’t be consorting with my fucking enemy and then showing up here! How do you think that looks?”

  “I hope I didn’t blow their cover, but they were a bit obvious.”

  Mills slammed his hands down on the table. “Shut the fuck up!”

  Bert acted like he was taken back. “No need to get all uppity.”

  Mills took a deep breath, his face burning red. Slowly, he said, “Waylon, I need to know you aren’t working for my enemy. It looks bad for my business.”

  “I’m not.”

  Mills shook his head. “What kind of information are you after?”

  “Heard anything about a valuable item coming into the area?”

  “Like what?”

  Bert shrugged.

  “No.”

  “Heard about anything strange going on? Anything at all?”

  “Like what? What kind of goddamned questions are these?”

  “So, I’ll take that as a no.”

  “Yes, it’s a goddamned no! I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

  “Well, thank you. You’ve been a big help.”

  He got up and started walking toward the door. Mills called after him. “Have you talked to Mom lately?”

  Bert turned around and shook his head. “Nah, you?”

  Mills shook his head. “Few days ago. She was pissed at me.”

  Bert shrugged. “Imagine that.”

  Mills continued, “You need to call her.”

  “I’ll get right on that.”

  “I’m serious.”

  “I know you are.”

  Mills glared at him. “So, when you said something strange, were you talking about that wizard shit again?”

  Bert rolled his eyes and started for the door again. Mills continued, “You are twenty-five years old. It’s time to put your make-believe fantasy bullshit to rest. You’re a hell of a worker and get shit done. You’re smart as fuck. Go to college or something. Get a real fucking job. Whatever you do, stop pretending you can do fucking magic!”

  Bert turned around again and said, “Have I ever done anything to make you lose faith in my sanity? Or do I run around in a robe with a stick?”

  In his mind, Sharp said, “You have a giant stick on your back right now. Just saying.”

  Bert ignored him and continued speaking to his brother. “I trusted you with that. Hell, I thought you’d understand. I guess I was wrong. So, go fuck yourself, big brother.”

  “All I’m saying is, this is the real world. And there’s no such thing as magic. Next thing you’re going to tell me is that Little Red Riding Hood is real.”

  Bert shrugged. “I hear she’s a real bitch.”

  Mills glared at him.

  Bert headed for the door, but before he made it he turned around one last time. “By the way, Mack wanted to let you know some power players are trying to squeeze in on your territory.”

  Mills chuckled. “I’m sure he did.”

  Chapter 20

  It was getting late, and aside from what the Hound had provided, he didn’t have any leads. He did, however, get to spend the day with Hunter. So that was something. But, with nothing else to go on, he headed for the old factory where the were-creatures liked to hang.

  It was just after dark when he eased the Beast into the back of the parking lot with his lights off. He couldn’t risk getting any closer without the engine alerting them to his presence. It wasn’t that he intended to hide, but he didn’t want them to know where he parked. Just in case. There was never any telling with were-dogs.

  He was torn about taking Hunter. On one hand, it would be cool for his friend to meet the were-dogs. To have a chance to see how comfortable they were being were-creatures. On the other hand, he didn’t want them to know what Hunter was. He didn’t know how they’d react to a true lycan. Furthermore, their leadership changed on the regular, and with it, the pack’s demeanor. Sometimes they were friendly. Other times, not so much.

  “All right, Hunter,” Bert said finally. “I think it’s probably best if you wait here.”

  Hunter nodded slowly. “Okay, I trust your judgment. But I was kind of hoping to meet these guys.”

  “I know,” he replied. “I’ve given it a lot of thought, and if the Hound was right, and he generally is, then they’re recruiting. Which means they may be hostile. I haven’t met this new leader yet, so I don’t know what he’s about. The pack follows the whims of the Alpha, and the Alpha changes on the regular. It might be dangerous.”

  “If that’s the case, wouldn’t you prefer some back up?” he asked, tapping the gun on his hip.

  “If we had a third person, then yes,” Bert replied, glancing at the old warehouse. “But, if things go south, I can protect myself with a magic shield. What I’ll really need is a getaway driver. If I can determine this new leader is a decent guy, then we’ll come back later.”

  “Fair enough,” Hunter said, “I can wait in the truck.”

  Bert gathered his gear and threw on his hoodie and jacket. He nodded to Hunter and headed toward the factory. It wasn’t just one large metal building, but a series of them. He didn’t know what it had originally been but like many supernatural hangouts, it sat alone, out in the middle of nowhere and as far from civilization as possible. A perfect place for a congregation of were-creatures.

  Bert approached the old entrance door and knocked.

  A moment later a voice from the other side said, “Password?”

  Bert replied, “Lycanthropes Anonymous?”

  There was no response.

  “Were-kittens are the cutest?”

  No response.

  Bert sighed. “Open the damn door.”

  The voice replied, “You must say the password.”

  “No, your were-buddies must say the password,” Bert replied, crossing his arms. “I must come in. And you must open the door or I must break it down.”

  There were a few seconds of silence before a new voice asked, “Who are you?”

  “Waylon Drake,” he replied. “And I’m getting rather impatient.”

  “Hold on! We’re getting the boss!”

  A minute or so later, the door finally opened. Bert found himself standing before a middle-aged man with long sandy blonde hair and a full beard, not unlike the Dude. He smiled and said, “Please come in.”

  Not waiting for a reply, the man turned back inside and Bert followed. As they passed old pallets and dead machinery, the man introduced himself. “It’s an honor to meet you, Waylon. I’ve heard a lot about you from the pack. I’m Howard, the current Alpha and proud leader of our little family.” He smiled. “At least for the moment. You know how things go around here.”

  “Indeed,” Bert replied.

  “I’m doing my best, though. Hoping to hold onto the mantle for a while. The pack needs a strong leader.”

  “They’ve always seemed to get by well enough,” Bert said. “Though, some stability couldn’t hurt.”

  “I absolutely agree,” Howard said, his grin broadening. “It’s difficult for our kind. We need stability. Especially for a group like ours that still believes in the rule of might.”

  “You don’t agree with that policy?” Bert asked, trying to hide his skepticism.

  “I don’t,” Howard said, pausing. “Constant leadership changes limit our ability to grow. We lose the opportunity to establish positive relationships and secure our future. Historically, this pack has been little more than a social club. I’d like to see it become more of a sanctuary for our kind. Like what Mack has done for vampires.”

  “That’s commendable,” Bert said as they started forward again. “Is that why you’re recruiting?”

  Howard chuckled. “I wouldn’t call it recruiting. We’re no
t building an army or anything, but there’s lots of were-creatures out there on their own. I want them to know they have a home. A place they can feel safe.”

  “Fair enough. But I do have one question.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Why are you sharing all of this with me?” Bert asked, meeting his gaze. “We just met.”

  Howard laughed again. “I may be a stranger to you, Waylon, but among my pack, you are well known. You are a practicing freelance wizard, a former bounty hunter, and the man who killed the dark wizard Senechal. And I know in the past some of your interactions with us haven’t been pleasant. I aim to change that. I want to be allies.”

  “Fair enough,” Bert said, though he wasn’t ready to take him at his word. But, if Howard really wanted to be allies, or at least wanted Bert to think that, then perhaps he’d be useful. “Well, I don’t see any reason we can’t be friends. Actually, that’s why I’m here. I was hoping you might be able to help me out.”

  “Of course,” Howard said, still smiling. “Anything we can do.”

  “Careful, I don’t trust this flea bag,” Sharp said. “Never trust a man who smiles that much.”

  “I don’t trust him,” Bert replied. “But it’s the only card we’ve got to play.”

  Out loud, Bert said, “I’ve heard there may be a unique item in our area. Know anything?”

  Howard stared at him for a few seconds before finally nodding. “I may know of what you speak... But you must understand I can’t freely give out such information. My people will see it as a sign of weakness.”

  “Okay, so what do you need from me?”

  “I hate to ask this of you,” Howard said, and his false sincerity made Bert want to vomit. “But we do have a lot of new members. Many aren’t familiar with you. Before I can share our knowledge, they need to see that you respect our pack. That you’re truly here as an ally. The only way to do that...is to prove yourself in the circle.”

  Bert sighed.

  Chapter 21

  When Howard said he’d have to prove himself in the circle, Bert hadn’t taken it to literally mean he’d have to fight in a steel cage match against a giant. Yet, there he was.