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Chapter 16

  It wasn’t the hero’s welcome Ryan had been half-expecting. In fact, as Dr. Webster was so quick to point out, their jaunt at the docks hadn’t been all that heroic: they had saved their own lives after being the ones to put them in danger. Still, Ryan would have liked a little congratulation on not getting ripped to pieces, but he supposed a completely intact, blood-filled body was its own reward. Webster, on the other hand, was less content.

  “What were you thinking?!” He demanded of Evelyn. Ryan stood off to the side and tried to make himself as invisible as possible while Ruby tended to his cuts and scrapes with a strange-smelling ointment.

  Dr. Webster continued. “You don’t run off and pull a job half-cocked, with zero useable intel, and you certainly don’t do it without taking back-up or without telling anyone!”

  Ryan could see that the words were cutting into Evelyn like razor blades, but she remained defiant. “I had intel and I had to move. The shipment was coming in tonight, I couldn’t wait around to get the Robert Webster seal of approval. You’re barely ever around anymore. I took Ryan because I knew he could handle it. And you know what? He did. We both did. We both made it back. No harm, no foul.”

  Dr. Webster scoffed. “No harm? Two men are dead because of what you did. You torched civilian docks. Who’s going to pay for that? And you didn’t learn anything! You didn’t even manage to get the crate open. But worst of all, you tipped our hand. Hess knows we’re onto him now. He’s going to stop using the docks and he’s going to be taking even more precautions. You blew our shot at learning everything and in the process you learned nothing.”

  Evelyn’s voice dropped. “He could still think it was Renart…maybe Renart hit him to try and disrupt his production. He doesn’t know for sure it was us…”

  The doctor gave no quarter. “Even if we are that lucky, it doesn’t change anything. He’s still going to be looking over his shoulder twice as often now, and that means we have to work twice as hard to gather intelligence. I can’t sugar-coat this: you screwed up.” His tone was harsh, but there was a fatherly quality in it.

  Evelyn stared at the doctor with her chin jutting out. She opened her mouth slightly as if to give an angry retort, but then closed it again. Instead, she turned without saying a word and stormed back into the open garage. She punched the button for the external door and swung a leg over the gleaming red sport bike. The motorcycle whined, then roared to life and Evelyn rocketed out of the garage and off into the night without a second look back.

  Ryan watched her go and fought the urge to jump in the Cherokee and give chase. Everything Dr. Webster had said was true, but Ryan felt for Evelyn nonetheless. She revered and respected the doctor, both for the man he was and for the things he had done for her. He knew it couldn’t have been easy to endure such a reprimand.

  Dr. Webster shook his head and pushed the button to lower the garage door. He trudged off to the infirmary.

  “Don’t you think on it.” Ruby said as she wrapped the vampire bite on Ryan’s forearm. “She’ll come back. She always does.”

  “But didn’t that seem a little harsh to you?” Ryan asked.

  Ruby thought for a moment. “Maybe a touch. But the Doc has made it his job to keep Ev safe. He always gets a mite cranky when she puts herself in danger.”

  “That happen a lot?”

  Ruby laughed. “Just about as often as she can. She’s a wild one, no debatin’ that.”

  Before Ryan could ask anything more, Tom stepped through the exterior wall at the same time as Daniel strode through the normal entrance. Dr. Webster emerged from the infirmary to greet them, and they all gathered around the lounge area in the middle.

  “Tell me it’s not as bad as all that.” The doctor pleaded.

  “Where is Evelyn? I know you think she made a mistake, but her instincts were correct. We would not have known about the crate without her.” Daniel asked.

  “Evelyn’s out.” Dr. Webster said coldly. “What did you find?”

  “It’s as bad as all that.” Tom replied. “Hess had his people on it before we even got there. And we’re fast. Whatever was in that crate, it’s important.”

  “But you couldn’t tell what it was?” Ryan asked. He felt like he had a stake in this, like that crate had become his personal responsibility.

  Daniel shook his head. “They were taking it away just as we arrived. We know nothing more about its contents than you do. However, we have more immediate concerns.” He looked Ryan right in the eye, his purple irises deadly serious. “Grayle was at the docks overseeing the recovery. We heard him speaking to one of the others and…”

  “And what?” Ryan demanded.

  Tom took over. “Hess has taken this as a preemptive strike against their operation, and thanks to Evelyn’s rather distinct calling card, he knows it was us. He’s moved up his timetable…for the crate, for everything, and he’s let Grayle off the leash to-”

  “To kill me.” Ryan finished

  “Bingo.” Tom replied.

  Silence fell and Ryan felt a prickle on the back of his neck. He didn’t like the thought of hundreds of vampires and who knows what else lurking out there and waiting for him, but he really didn’t like the thought of one of the most deadly monsters and prolific killers in the country out for his blood. Ryan knew this day would come, but he thought he had time, he thought he’d have mastered the wolf. He thought he’d be ready.

  Dr. Webster chewed his lip. “Ryan, how are you coming with the transformation?”

  Ryan shook his head. “I’m not. I can’t do…anything. It’s like I’ve hit a wall and I don’t know how to get over it.”

  “Alright.” He replied. “Not ideal, but we can work with it. Daniel, set him up with a couple mags of the silver rounds. Ruby…we’ve got to hide him from both Hess’ psychics and Grayle.”

  Ruby smiled. “I think I can conjure up something.”

  “Good.” Webster replied. “I’ll call in Miles and we’ll see if we can’t figure out where that crate was headed. If you’re alright with it Tom, I’m going to need you abroad for a while. Go back to the docks and stow away on the next of Hess’ ships leaving the pier. We don’t know what was in that crate, but if we keep a very close eye on his shipping lines, we might be able to get some intel we can actually use. I’m sorry to send you away like this on such short notice, but-”

  Tom nodded his incorporeal head. “We need it. I understand. And it has been a long time since I’ve been to Africa. I guess I’ll see you all in a month or two.”

  They said their goodbyes to Tom and he turned and walked back through the wall.

  The doctor turned to Ryan. “Ryan, this is vitally important: Grayle knows you survived and he knows you’re with us, but as far as we can tell, that’s all the information he has. With Ruby’s help, it’ll stay that way. We have no reason to believe he knows where you live or go to school or who your friends are, but he does know about this place so it’s the first place he’ll check. Stay away. Go to your family, go to your friends, but do not come back here until we call you, okay?”

  Ryan nodded. The group dispersed to fulfill their assigned duties and Daniel motioned for Ryan to follow him. They crossed the ground floor of the warehouse and climbed the steps to the room above the infirmary. Daniel pushed open the door and Ryan gasped.

  Packed into the tiny room were weapons, dozens upon dozens of them hanging in rows from floor to ceiling. One wall held nothing but handguns of every imaginable shape and size, along with neatly stacked, loaded magazines. The other wall held dozens of automatics, ranging from the small submachine guns like Evelyn had used, all the way up to massive assault rifles. The far wall was split into two sections: one held an array of shotguns with everything from black tactical pump-actions to sawed-off double-barreleds with wooden stocks. The second section displayed countless knives and bladed weapons of various length and shape.

  Daniel rifled through the magazines of ammunition on the pistol side and foun
d the one he was looking for. He held out his hand.

  “The 1911.” Daniel said.

  Ryan produced the Colt from his pocket and handed it to Daniel. The giant of a man pulled out the unused bullets from the gun and replaced them with the ones from the other magazine, silver-tipped and shining.

  “So werewolves are killed by silver. I guess Universal Studios got something right after all.”

  Daniel nodded. “Silver is a powerful substance. Many creatures of the occult are vulnerable to it. You are no exception. You can still be harmed, and indeed, killed, by conventional weapons or ammunition, but any silver that breaks the skin will cause you unimaginable pain and, if the wound is enough, take your life. Silver also inflicts the only wounds that do not heal when you turn back to human.”

  “What you’re saying is don’t sleep with this thing under my pillow or in my kennel.” Ryan asked, gesturing to the Colt.

  “That is precisely what I am saying. I will not lie to you, Ryan, your chances of successfully fighting Grayle while you are still in human form are slim indeed. It is likely you will not even hear him coming. However, the doctor wishes you to be prepared, and I agree.” He handed the gun back to Ryan.

  “Have you ever killed a werewolf?” Ryan asked.

  “Yes.” Daniel replied.

  “How did you do it?”

  “With much difficulty.” He said gravely. “Now I believe Ruby needs to speak with you.”

  Ruby’s workspace was on the second level, past the workout equipment and clothing storage. It looked more like a smaller lounge area, with its three squashy armchairs and worn wooden coffee table. The armchairs were surrounded on three sides by two gigantic, over-laden bookcases and a large armoire full of bizarre and exotic ingredients. The remaining, open side looked out onto the ground floor of the warehouse.

  She was busy at work when Ryan arrived, and her wreath of pouches and jewelry swung slowly from her neck as she measured and combined ingredients.

  “Have a seat.” Ruby said kindly. “I’ve still got some mojo to work yet.”

  “What is all of this?” Ryan asked.

  “Your basics: graveyard dirt, lodestone, Spanish moss, blood of a sacrificial lamb, Jim Beam Black.”

  “That’s for a spell?” Ryan asked incredulous, as he looked at the bottle of bourbon.

  “Not directly.” She replied. “But let’s just say it gives my magic the little kick in the pants it sometimes needs.” Ruby took a swig from the bottle.

  “Don’t you need a spellbook? Or do you have them all memorized?”

  She shook her head and her wiry gray hair stuck out at even wilder angles. “The first thing you gotta understand about magic is that there ain’t no spells anymore, leastwise no incantations. The spoken spells were used for the heavy-duty stuff, and that knowledge has been gone for centuries. This magic, the magic my mama taught me, it ain’t quite so flashy, but it gets the job done. It’s mostly just mixin’ the right ingredients and knowin’ the right symbols.”

  “If all it takes is the right knowledge, how come more people don’t do it?” Ryan asked.

  “If I gave you the recipe and all the ingredients to make me a soufflé, could you do it?”

  “Probably not.” He replied.

  “How come?”

  “Because soufflés are hard. They’re complicated and if you make one mistake, the thing is ruined.”

  “Exactly. Difference is, you burn a soufflé, you’re out a dessert. You make a mistake with magic, you’re out an appendage or two. You want to tussle with the forces of the natural world, you gotta either be brilliant or crazy.”

  “Which one are you?”

  She winked again. “Depends on which one of my ex-husbands you ask.”

  Ryan smiled.

  “Now this one here,” Ruby said as she produced a bracelet of thin, tightly woven fibers, “this’ll do to conceal you. Old Tony Hess’ got an army of psychics and sorcerers usin’ all manner o’ mojo to track you down, and this little doodad ought to hide you from whatever he’s usin’. Just don’t get it near an open flame…unless of course you want your first-born to come out with horns and claws.”

  “That doesn’t sound so bad.” Ryan joked.

  “Cept it wouldn’t be coming outta your sweetheart, it’d be coming outta you.”

  “Yikes.”

  “Now, this bracelet ain’t gonna last forever. I swear I had some devil’s claw root somewhere, but now I can’t find it, so I had to cut a few corners with the ingredients. Lucky for you I’m just brilliant enough to have done it. It’s gonna start frayin’ and comin’ apart after a few days, but I reckon we’ll have this sorted long before that happens. And this one,” she continued as she pulled the leather drawstrings on a small cloth pouch she had just added ingredients to, “should mask your scent from any werewolves. That’s the fastest way they can track you, by smell, so you keep this ‘round your neck and stay far away from this place, you should be alright.”

  “Thank you so much, really.” Ryan said as he slipped the tiny pouch around his neck and dropped it down the front of his shirt.

  Ruby waived her hand dismissively. “It’s my job. I don’t want to see that handsome face of yours get ripped to shreds any more’n you do. Same as I told you when we first met: ‘round here we protect our own. Now get outta here and don’t you come back.”

  “Thanks again.” Ryan said as he rose from the chair and turned to leave. “One more thing, do you have any idea where Evelyn might have gone?”

  Ruby gave a sly smile and began to scoop her potion ingredients back into their small glass bottles. “Matter of fact, I do.”