Werewolf Knight 4, page 21
I elbowed a few more people out of my way, ignored the complaints from the crowd, and stormed through the doors like an avenging angel. I found myself in an industrial kitchen that looked like the inside of a submarine. Everything was polished steel that looked like it had just rolled off the assembly line.
More importantly, I spotted Barney Converse and his bodyguard by the fire door that served as the back entrance. But the door was apparently locked, which didn’t surprise me. Converse was just the kind of guy to lock the emergency exit so he could be sure his employees weren’t sneaking outside for a smoke.
“Give up, Converse,” I growled, and I heard the man’s heart rate soar as he froze in place.
“Step away, Sir,” the bodyguard said as he turned around and came toward me.
He had a shaved head and was wearing sunglasses, and Converse breathed easy for a second when the man stalked toward me. But the muscles looked like the kind you get from lifting weights in a gym, and the suit was cheap and ill-fitting. This guy looked intimidating, but his fighting skills were probably minimal.
As the guy stopped in front of me, I reached out and grabbed the t-shirt he was wearing under his polyester blazer with my left hand. His glasses flew off, and I watched his eyes widen just before I delivered a haymaker to his jaw with my right.
Bone cracked under my fist, and the man gurgled as he tried to jerk free of my grasp. But I was too strong, and I chucked him to the side like the annoying pest he was. I heard his head crack against one of the silver countertops and a tooth fall to the floor, but my eyes were locked on Converse.
“Hank,” he said as he pawed at the door. “Hank, how’s it going?”
“Why are you leaving your own party, Barney?” I growled. “Looks like the fun is just beginning.”
“O-of course,” he jabbered, and his eyes turned to focus on something behind me.
I turned around and saw that the bodyguard was starting to stagger over. This wasn’t really something I was in the mood for, so I walked over to the man, grabbed his blazer, and hit him with a haymaker that was hard enough to whip his head back. I saw the guy’s eyes roll back into his head, and when I let go of the fabric, he crumpled in a heap on the floor.
“Alright, Converse,” I snapped as I turned back to the CEO. “I’m not in the mood for this shit. Just tell me what the fuck you did and why.”
“Just… a little… intelligence gathering,” he replied. “Companies do it all the time...”
“That doesn’t make it legal,” I said. “Who was that guy in my backyard?”
“A private investigator,” he replied. “He’s usually very reliable… um, is he dead?”
“Who?” I asked and then realized Converse was staring at the body behind me. “He’s fine. He’ll just have a really bad headache when he wakes up. You might want to take him to the hospital to get checked for a concussion.”
“Oh,” Converse huffed and flapped his hands. “I don’t like hospitals.”
“Fine, then tell someone else to take him,” I snapped. “Now tell me why you sent someone to spy on me.”
“For all the reasons that someone would hire a private investigator,” the petulant CEO sputtered. “To get information about the competition.”
“And then what?” I asked. “You were going to pressure me into selling the company to you?”
He didn’t say anything right away, but the greedy look that lit up his face was confirmation enough. He seemed to be gathering his thoughts, and when he finally found what he wanted, he lifted his chin like he’d found a way to beat me.
“You keep wild creatures on your property,” he declared. “Animals that are dangerous to anyone who--”
“I live in the woods, you idiot,” I replied. “I don’t know exactly what your guy saw out there, but I’m guessing it was a bear.”
“It wasn’t--” Converse protested.
“Okay, let’s say it wasn’t,” I cut in. “If you start telling people that I’ve got giant, talking animals on my property, what the hell do you think will happen? I’m the werewolf guy, after all.”
Converse pondered that for a moment, but he wasn’t done yet.
“You also have several women who live on the property,” he said.
“So,” I said and shrugged. “They like being there, and I like having them there. They’re free to leave if they want, but as long as they want to stay, I’m more than happy to spoil them. Everyone knows that already.”
Which wasn’t entirely true, but enough people knew about the girls that it wouldn’t be a big deal if Converse decided to go public with the information.
“W-well...” he stammered as he wracked his brain.
“Let me put this in terms you’ll understand,” I said. “If you try anything like this ever again, I will sue your ass, and I will make sure you’re bankrupt by the time I’m done with you. Now, you can either leave me and mine alone and keep your company, or you can keep harassing me and lose everything.”
“I understand,” Barney Converse whispered.
“Don’t fuck with me, Converse,” I warned. “I don’t care how much money you have. You’re corrupt, and you’re a fat sack of crap. And your coffee tastes like ball sweat.”
The businessman blinked at me a few times before silently nodding.
I kind of couldn’t believe I’d said that, but I didn’t care. Their coffee was bullshit compared to mine, and I was well on my way to dominating the entire market with my moon bean brew.
“I’m sorry,” he started to say.
“Don’t,” I said and shook my head. “I know you’re full of shit. And stop sending me those saccharine emails about the joys of being part of Joe Town. They’re driving me nuts.”
“Of course,” he agreed and nodded. “I’m not a fan of those myself.”
I glared at him until I heard his heart rate go up again and his lip started to quiver. I wasn’t sure if the fat bastard would actually leave me alone for the rest of my life, but for the moment, we would have some peace and quiet at our Jersey home. I nodded once, glanced at the bodyguard, and then turned my back on the fat CEO.
The doors barely made a sound as I waltzed back into the party as if nothing crazy at all had happened. I mean, tackling bad guys was just another day at work for me, but that was in Lupercalia. In this world, I was just another average guy who happened to strike it rich with the world’s best coffee.
The place was even more crowded than before, and I was rapidly losing patience as I tried to muscle my way to the front door. I felt a tap on my shoulder when I was about halfway there, and I growled as I turned around.
But instead of Converse, I found a lithe, tanned girl with red hair and lots of freckles. She was wearing a purple t-shirt and flared jeans, and she smiled up at me with bright blue eyes.
“Hey,” she said. “I’m Jessa. I just wanted to say that I read your interview in the Times, and I genuinely thought it was genius. I know that this might come off as, like, a little too sincere, but I think you’re just as much of a performance artist as you are a businessman.”
For a second, I just stared at the girl before I shook my head and then flashed a smile.
“A performance artist?” I laughed. “Well, I’ve never been called that before. But thanks, Jessa.”
“No problem, Henry,” she said with a giggle. “I work in a coffee shop, and we all think your werewolf story is really fun.”
“Thanks,” I replied. “Well, if you’re ever in Jersey, stop by. Maybe I’ll even change into a werewolf for you guys. And call me Hank.”
“Okay, Hank,” she said with a smile.
My angry mood melted away, but that just made me want to get home even more. So I smiled back, and then started to push my way through the crowd again, though at least I said excuse me before I nudged someone out of the way.
The smell of hot piss and hot dog water hit my nose as soon as I stepped outside again, and I shook my head at the familiar odor. New Yorkers always said that New Jersey smelled like shit, but that had to be an absolute joke. My backyard smelled of pinecones and serenity, and even though I loved the Big Apple, it smelled like Yankee Candle, Fourth Circle of Hell edition.
“Gotta love New York,” I chuckled as I headed for the parking garage.
As I walked along the sidewalk, I thought about Jessa’s comment. I really had created not only a lucrative business, but also one of the most impressive backstories in modern business history. It seemed like I was gaining profit and notoriety for my character as well as my coffee, and if that meant that I was a performance artist, then so be it. I was not going to pass up a few extra bucks because someone thought it was just part of an act.
On the drive home I called Ava to give her an update but her phone was off and went straight to voicemail. I didn’t know when I’d get another chance to speak with her, so I pulled over and sent her a long series of text messages to explain everything that had happened to catch her up.
By the time I rolled back into my private driveway, it was well into the afternoon. The sky was clear and blue, and as I looked across my property, I felt my shoulders relax and the tension of the day fade away. The city was fun, but it didn’t even compare to all the natural beauty and space I had out here.
I parked the Jeep and gave her a little pat before I walked toward the front door of the house, which flew open before I’d made it up the first step.
“Hank!” Sybil squealed, and the witch flung herself at me.
She wrapped her arms around my neck and tightened her legs around my waist. I took her under her bottom and swung her around, which made her cute little braids fly through the air.
“Hello, you,” I murmured into her ear, and she kissed me on the cheek.
When I put the witch down, I noticed that both Tabitha and Imelda were standing in the foyer and looking a little hesitant. Imelda was shifting her weight between her two feet, and Tabitha was pacing around and shaking the can of whipped cream in her hands.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” Sybil said, and the green-eyed witch looked up at me and gave me a weak smile.
“What’s going on?” I asked. “I can feel the weird vibe all the way down here.”
Sybil led me into the house and shut the door after me. The other two girls walked up to me and took my hands in both of theirs.
“Hank,” Imelda said, and for the first time in a while she didn’t seem to be glowing at all. “Hank, there’s some very serious things we need to talk to you about.”
I looked up at Tabitha, who just nodded in agreement.
Holy shit. If Tabitha wasn’t cracking any jokes about what was going on, then I knew that I was in some pretty serious hot water.
“What is it?” I asked, and Sybil took a deep breath and stared up at me.
“It’s the notebook,” Sybil said. “We’ve managed to make a lot of progress, and that’s good, but…”
“Just prepare yourself, Hank,” Tabitha finally added in her low, husky voice. “Prepare yourself for some dark knowledge.”
Chapter 14
The girls led me upstairs, but no one spoke. It felt stifling in the house, which it never had before, so I knew then that whatever they had uncovered was something pretty fucking bad.
We turned right and went down the hall to the office, where the girls had covered the floor in a plastic tarp. There must’ve still been some of that stuff there from when we moved in, and they’d made a nice little work station with a big pot of the wasabi solution and a few paint brushes.
The solution smelled slightly of ammonia and wasabi, and it burned the back of my nose as I stepped into my office. I coughed a few times as the girls crouched down around the notebook, which had been held open with a rock.
“The wizard’s translations only went so far,” Sybil sighed. “They were very good, but he didn’t finish the work before… well, you know.”
“And I can speak the vampire language,” Imelda said. “So I can translate some of it more accurately.”
“I’m not sure I like where this is going,” I said.
“Hank, this is going to change everything,” Tabitha said and patted the tarp next to her. “Sit down with us.”
I crouched down and joined the girls on the floor so that we were all gathered around the notebook. Once I was seated, Sybil carefully removed the rock from the pages and flipped through until she found another, slightly more dry page that had been smothered with the green goo.
“Here,” she said. “Take a look at this.”
She passed me the book, but it was hard to ignore the fumes that stung the back of my nose. Since the girls didn’t seem so affected by the wasabi paste, I assumed it was because of my wolf senses.
“Jeez,” I muttered as I wiped away a tear.
“Sorry about the smell,” Sybil murmured. “But we haven’t found a less… stinky way to reveal the ink.”
“See?” Tabitha teased. “Melchior’s version was barely noticeable, but her potion smells just as bad as she does. Obviously, the cipher was more clever than our witch.”
“You got me there, Tabitha,” Sybil said and rolled her eyes.
The girls giggled, but it all sounded very forced. There was nothing light or funny about their interaction, and Imelda was biting her lip like she was waiting for something bad to happen.
“So what am I looking at?” I mumbled as I focused on the page.
The paper was covered in several of the scientific diagrams that Wenderoth had drawn, and after a few moments, I realized that it seemed to be about the angles and phases of the moon.
“This is about the moon, right?” I asked. “I guess that’s not a surprise, since the vampires consider the Goddess to be their enemy.”
“Imelda?” Sybil whispered, and the dark-haired witch looked up at the ex-vampire. “Maybe you should explain it.”
“Of course,” Imelda said and took a deep breath as she picked up several sheets of printer paper that she’d written on. “These are diagrams of the moon and the placement of its axis as you guessed. It’s said that the power to shift is determined by the specific axis of the moon. Even though the power has been passed down through families, this diagram is basically saying that there was one original angle which started the foundations of Lupercalian culture.”
I looked at the illustration, which showed the moon in various states of being tilted. Even though I knew Wenderoth had created the notebook, I had to at least admire his craftsmanship when it came to drawing. The illustrations were so detailed, and it struck me as odd that an evil creature in another world could’ve been so meticulous. The moon looked exactly like it did in our world.
“So it’s like a kind of genesis story,” I said. “This was how the shifters were created.”
“I’ve heard similar theories in the Lupercalian castle,” Tabitha added. “So it checks out. It’s not just complete… you know… speculation.”
“You can call it horseshit,” I said with a smile.
“Horseshit, then,” Tabitha declared.
“It’s also backed up by religious doctrine,” Imelda added. “The Moon Goddess is an active participant in Lupercalian society, so we usually turn to her word rather than scientific theories.”
“But the two match?” I asked. “There isn’t much difference?”
“It’s not about difference,” Imelda explained. “It’s just comparable. Most of the origins of our culture are kept through visual depictions, archival accounts, and oral history. It’s not like there’s a written text that outlines how the Moon Goddess wants us to live. It’s a very social society.”
The religious attitude was vastly different to anything I’d heard in my childhood. My parents weren’t super devout Christians, but we went to church on the important holidays like Easter and Christmas, and my parents always emphasized that we should lead a good, Christian life, though that wasn’t always so easy to define.
The idea that there was an actual, present Goddess who communicated with her people would’ve been completely wild to me before my first trip to Lupercalia. After all, the God I’d grown up with required belief in place of face-to-face communication. I thought about all the religious texts and interpretations that people fought over because all they had to go on were a few texts, and it made sense that the followers of the Moon Goddess were such a cohesive group of people since they could talk to her.
“You seem lost, Hank,” Tabitha said as she prodded me.
“Oh,” I murmured and shook my head. “Yeah, yeah. Sorry, I just got lost in thought.”
“Well, this is the beginning,” Imelda said as she gestured to the diagrams. “Wenderoth had to get to the beginning of the blue blood lifeline…”
“So that he could get to the end,” Sybil sighed, and she flipped the page.
This page was full of more diagrams of blue bloods. There were more illustrations that had been hidden under the original writing, and it showed the results of the dissection of both a werewolf and a vampire. I looked at the two images side by side and shuddered at the gruesome depictions of their insides.
“Being a vampire changes your entire physical composition,” Imelda murmured, and her bright blue eyes glowed as she swept some hair out of her face. “That’s why it’s impossible to change back… well, without divine intervention, anyway.”
“And as the only known vampire to change back, I’d say she was an authority on that,” Tabitha said.
“So that’s what this was for?” I asked.
Wenderoth had decorated the diagram of a vampire with several arrows that pointed to various body parts of interest. It reminded me of something I’d seen in one of my high school science courses, and after a moment, I realized it was similar to the drawings of how blood circulated through the human body. And if that was what Wenderoth had drawn, then it looked like blood traveled differently around a vampire body than it did around a human or werewolf body. In a vampire, it was pushed straight from the neck into different nerves and veins, and the general motion was down instead of around, with almost none going to the brain.
