Wolf Hunt (Book 2) (21 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Precious Metal

George came very close to crapping his pants as they passed a parked police car, but it didn't pull out after them. He came even closer to crapping his pants a second time as they passed a pair of police cars that were driving in the opposite direction. But apparently Tom and Betsy had not yet reported their vehicle as stolen. Hopefully they were still hiding in the closet.

They stopped at the first place that looked remotely promising. It was called M.K.M. and the sign gave no indication of what that might stand for. But it had a skull in the logo and there was loud music blaring from inside.

The bouncer looked a bit taken aback as George walked through the door. "Hey, you okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, it's fake blood," said George. "Looks badass, huh?"

"Can I see your ID?"

George patted at his pocket. "I don't have my wallet with me. C'mon, I'm way beyond twenty-one."

"You can't drink without an armband, and I can't give you an armband without an ID."

"I wasn't going to drink. I'm just here to see a friend."

The bouncer shrugged and let George pass.

Not many people were in the tiny club. A few kids stood and nodded their heads in time to the beat of the band that was on stage, but it was clearly the opening act for the opening act and there wasn't a ton of enthusiasm.

George quickly scanned the club, hoping to find one of those kids who went absolutely berserk with the piercings, where you worried that they might accidentally get them caught on something and rip half of their faces off. There were none like that, but a couple of girls sitting at a table near the back, dressed in lacy black outfits, did seem to be wearing plenty of jewelry. They were both college-aged, so there was nothing George could do about the "creepy old man hitting on young women" vibe that he'd no doubt give off, but hopefully he could charm them enough to let him buy some of their stuff.

"Hello," he said, walking up to their table. "I promise I'm not trying to hit on you."

"Uh-huh," said one of the girls. She wore blood-red lipstick and her hair was a shade of black that didn't appear in nature, but she wasn't wearing any makeup beyond that. She took a sip of her beer and gave George a look that said that she'd really appreciate it if he would fuck off.

"I'm not, I swear. This is going to sound crazy, and that's fine, but I have to kill some werewolves tonight, and I really need to buy any silver jewelry you've got."

The other girl leaned across the table. "Are you Lou Flynn?"

"Uh, no. I'm his partner."

"George Orton? So that stuff that's on the news is true?"

"I haven't had time to watch TV today so I'm not sure what's on the news, but if they're talking about werewolves, yes, it's true."

"Oh my God! This is so cool! My boyfriend updated your Wikipedia entry a few months ago! Yeah, people have reported walking wolves, and there's this house full of dead bodies, and my mom barely let me go out tonight! So you're hunting them?"

George nodded. "Yeah. But I need silver. Rings, bracelets...whatever you've got. I've only got about two hundred bucks."

The girls began taking off their rings. "Will you do an interview with my boyfriend for his blog?"

"You bet."

The first girl stuck out her tongue, revealing a large stud. "Thith too?"

"That would be great."

* * *

After they dropped Crabs off, Robyn kind of looked like she wanted to have sex again, but that would be irresponsible. So they drove a few blocks from Melville Park, which was a decent enough park with a slide, swing set, jungle gym, and all of the other prerequisites except for playing children, and parked in the lot of a large grocery store. The parking lot wasn't very well lit and Shane figured they'd be anonymous enough. Better than taking the risk of driving past the wrong cop.

He'd released Ally from the trunk and sat with her in the back seat, while Robyn remained up front. He didn't like warning his daughter that he'd be forced to inflict physical harm upon her if she caused a commotion or tried to get away, but he really had no choice in the matter. She seemed to take the warning seriously.

He hated seeing his daughter's face all blotchy, her eyes all swollen from sobbing. Now that the high of the previous slaughter had faded, he really wished that Robyn had at least not murdered Peggy right in front of her. Lots of teenagers lost their mothers and got over it, but having her mother murdered right before her eyes was a wound that might stick around for a while.

Nothing he could do about it. Still, the next time they were alone he'd let Robyn know how badly she'd screwed up.

"We need to find out what made you change," he said. "We can't leave town as wolves if you're stuck as a human."

"I don't know what made me change," Ally insisted. It was hard to understand her while she was crying. "I can't do it."

"Yes, you can. We'll figure it out. It's a little different for everyone, but once you find the trigger, with some practice you can change whenever you want." He changed his hand. "See? When you get good enough, you can change whatever part you want."

"Why would I want to just change my hand?"

Shane glared at her. "Maybe you want to slash somebody's throat, but you don't want anybody to see you turn into a full wolf. How about that?"

Slashing a throat? He'd really said that to her? Wow. Shane felt like he should apologize, but didn't.

Ally didn't seem to catch his
faux pas
. "I'm not going to start killing people."

"Nobody said you had to. Where were you when you changed?"

"In the back of the van."

"By yourself?"

"With George."

"What was he doing?"

"He was holding me down."

Shane let out a snarl. "And how did you feel about that?"

"How do you think I felt?"

"I don't know. That's what we're trying to sort out. We've got to analyze the shades of emotion. I'm sure you weren't
happy
about it, but how exactly did you feel?"

"I was scared."

"That's a start. How did you feel when you got the drill through your foot?"

"Scared."

"And it hurt, right?"

"What do you think?"

"Did George hurt you when he was holding you down?"

"No, not really."

"So, fear without pain, maybe? It could be that the intense fear makes you change, but the pain counter-balances it and prevents the change. Maybe not counter-balances it, that sounds stupid, but if the pain is stronger than the fear, that could be why you can't change. Think about how you've felt today. All day. Have you hurt more, or have you been more scared?"

"I've hurt more."

"All day? So all day, the pain has been stronger than the fear?"

Ally nodded.

"Then maybe we're on the right track."

* * *

They weren't on the right track. Ally was in a lot of pain, but even when the actual drill bit was boring through her flesh, the terror had been worse.

She hadn't been trying to examine her emotional state before the transformation, but now that Dad was trying to talk her through it, she realized the difference.

When George had held her down in the back of the van, she'd been frightened, but she'd also been more
mad
than anything else.

Since then, she'd been scared, and she'd been horrified, and she'd been devastated, yet she hadn't actually been furious, even at Robyn.

At the moment before the change: rage.

That was it. That was the secret.

What she didn't know was how to make herself angry. Or at least, more angry than scared. Because right now, she was positively terrified, and she didn't think she could turn that into fury.

She wouldn't want to change now, anyway. Not with Dad and Robyn right there. Two werewolves who knew what they were doing in their wolf form would catch her easily, and she truly believed that Dad would hurt her. Maybe he wouldn't kill her, but he'd make sure she didn't try to get away again.

Still, if she was able to lose them, for only a moment...

* * *

Crabs liked being in this tree.

Wolfmen could not climb trees. So he climbed as a human. Almost all the way to the top. From here, he could watch everything that was happening in the park.

Nothing was happening now. Maybe nothing would.

It was peaceful up here in the tree. It should have been too cold, but Crabs never felt cold. Other people would complain about the cold and Crabs would silently laugh at them.

If George actually did show up, Crabs would kill him.

He was not supposed to kill him. He was supposed to run back and let Shane know that he was here. And perhaps he would decide to do that. But for right now, his plan was to leap down from the tree. He was so good at changing that he could do it in mid-air, so that was what he would do. Leap down, change in mid-air, and then pounce on George and rip him apart.

Poor George.

If that other man was there, Crabs would kill him, too. Crabs knew he wasn't a werewolf. The man thought he could fool everybody else, but he could not fool Crabs. Crabs was the one who had told Shane that the woman in the bar was a werewolf, and if it were not for that, Shane and Robyn would never have met. Never would have fucked.

But people did not always listen to Crabs. He did not care.

He would have a lot of fun ripping strips of flesh off George's body, starting at the bottom and working his way up. Maybe he would alternate taking bites between George and the man who had had a terrible life. There were so many possibilities. Crabs wanted to hug himself.

A car approached. Crabs recognized the car. It was the car from the house. Had the other man stolen it, or was George with him?

George got out of the car.

Crabs was very happy.

* * *

The park was empty.

George hadn't expected the werewolves to be there, just waiting around for him, but he couldn't help but be a little disappointed. He was pumped with adrenaline and anger, and ready to take it out on somebody, even if he didn't survive the experience.

Eugene was hanging out a couple of blocks away, huddled in his new coat. If the werewolves saw him, they'd know that he and George had planned this together. And since this was a reckless, insanely dangerous scheme that essentially came down to beating the crap out of a supernatural beast, it was best not to get Eugene killed for revenge that wasn't his own.

If this were a real meeting with somebody who was part of a criminal empire, George would remain in the car until they arrived, instead of standing outside in the cold, looking suspicious. He didn't think the werewolves would know that, though. He didn't want to be in the vehicle if they showed up, because his weapon was a baseball bat, and you couldn't easily swing those within the confines of an affordable car owned by two elderly people who drove it once a week for church and groceries.

He strolled through the park, trying to be subtle about his bat. He didn't expect anybody to not notice that he was carrying a bat, but he didn't want them to see that it had several silver rings, a tongue stud, and other assorted pieces of jewelry, including a necklace in the shape of a coffin, super-glued to it.

He'd assured the girls that he would return their jewelry, and though it might be damaged, it would have
serious
street cred.

If his experience with Ivan was typical of the way things worked, just touching them with silver wouldn't do anything. The silver only worked from the inside. Which meant that if one was, say, wielding a baseball bat with silver rings glued to it, one needed to hit the werewolf really frickin' hard to penetrate the skin.

George thought he could handle that.

Some branches rustled.

A werewolf leapt from the trees.

Crabs landed right next to the slide, about twenty feet from George.

Instead of pouncing immediately, Crabs cracked his knuckles. If he could speak as a wolf, he obviously would have said something sinister, like "Well, well, well, what a tasty treat I have in store."

George raised the bat.

Crabs cocked his head, a bit confused.

George
could
speak, so he said, "My name is George Orton. You killed my partner. Prepare to die."

From a pure technical standpoint, it was possible to argue that the werewolves had not officially killed Lou. But in a situation where he wanted every possible speck of an advantage, he thought it made sense to have his enemy think, "Did he really just kind-of quote
The Princess Bride
?"