“So how are we going to get the townspeople to tell us about the Lycan pack?” I ask, settling down into my black leather seat and pulling the door closed behind me. Did I mention I love riding in limos? My stiff back from my night on the barn floor is feeling better already. “I mean, we can’t just go into that bar and start asking random people if they’ve seen any werewolves lately, can we?”
“Actually,” Jareth says thoughtfully, “that’s exactly what we’re going to do.”
“What?” I stare at him, incredulous. “But that’s stupid. They’re going to think we’re total freaks. They’ll run us out of town. Even if they do know where the pack is, why would they tell a couple of tourist types?”
“Because we’re tourists with the vampire scent.”
Ah, the vampire scent. I’d forgotten about that. Each vampire gives off pheromones that make us irresistible to opposite sex humans. Of course this can become very irritating after the novelty wears off and you’ve already gotten out of a speeding ticket or two. I mean, teacher giving you an A on a test because he’s in love with you = good. Random guy coming up off the street and licking you = not so good. So from day one we’re taught to control the vampire scent. Push it down, deep inside. And if that doesn’t work, we have these special deodorant sprays that keep it from sweating out our pores. In fact, until Jareth brought it up just now, I’d about forgotten I even possessed the vampire scent.
“You very clever, Old Master,” I quip, Kung Fu-style. “Young Grasshoppa have much to learn.”
Jareth laughs, but it sounds forced. Why am I even bothering? “Here’s what we’ll do,” he says, back to business. “You’ll go down to the pub and do one walk around the perimeter. Let everyone catch a whiff of you. Then, when you’ve got the entire bar’s attention, go to the center of the room and find a table to sit down at. If it works, you should have male company in three seconds flat. Once you’ve got their attention, tell them you’re a graduate student looking to study Lycan for your thesis and you were told there’s a pack that lives here.”
“And you think they’ll tell me?”
“Under the spell of the vampire scent they’d tell you a lot more.”
I laugh. “I don’t think I want to know more.”
“Just please, Rayne,” Jareth says, his eyes serious. “Whatever you do, don’t tell them you’re a slayer.”
“Yes, yes. I mean, duh. No kidding.”
“Well, sorry for mentioning it, but I would have assumed it was ‘duh, no kidding’ last night, too. You know, when we were surrounded by actual vampires?”
I grit my teeth. He’s so going to hold this over my head for eternity, isn’t he? “Jareth, I made a mistake. I said I was sorry, okay? Can we drop it now?”
“Rayne, you can’t just laugh your way out of this. What you did was not cute, not funny, and not not a big deal. You were representing your coven there. And international vampire relations are vitally important to our coven’s survival. Did you know they could actually vote us out of the council, just for having a slayer in our ranks? We could lose all our rights and privileges as a member of the consortium. You obviously don’t seem to grasp the seriousness of what you did.”
I feel like crying. I can’t believe how stupid I was. To let my big mouth get the best of me again. No wonder no one wants to be my friend. I’m such a loser.
“I’m sorry,” I say, choking on the words. “I didn’t know.”
Jareth shakes his head, as if he’s weary of the world. “Just forget it,” he mutters. “There’s nothing that can be done anyway. Vampires can come later. Right now we need to concentrate on the wolves.”
18
The village of Appleby is small and quaint. There’s an ancient castle in the center of town, a crumbling almshouse that’s been transformed into an old folks’ home, narrow, cobblestone streets, and plenty of pubs and little shops. It’d drive me crazy to actually live in a small town like this, but it’s really cool to visit.
We check into Appleby Manor, a charming little hotel on the outskirts of town, and get ready for our wolf recon. As I change clothes in the bathroom, Jareth preps me for the thousandth time about what I need to do. About a half hour later we head down to the Tavern of the Moon. Even though it’s not quite noon, there’s a good number of men hanging out at the bar, having a few pints, watching the football game. (That’s soccer to you Americans, though it makes more sense for them to call their game football, seeing as they use their feet a heck of a lot more than American football players do …)
Jareth takes a seat at the back end of the pub and I prepare to make my grand entrance. I walk down alongside the bar, watching them watch me in the mirror on the wall. One by one they swivel in their barstools and stare at me and my sequined tube top and micromini skirt. (Jareth thought my outfit was total overkill, but by the looks on the men’s faces, he was so wrong.) I smile coyly as I turn around to face them. Several are staring with their mouths wide open. One looks like he’s literally about to drool.
“Hi, boys,” I purr. “What’s a girl gotta do around here to get a drink?”
A mad dash to be the first to buy me a pint ensues. A few men jump off their barstools and offer me their seats. I take a stool, pulling it away from the bar so I can see all the men at once. I sit down, crossing my legs. I’m very Sharon Stone, Basic Instinct, though I’m definitely wearing panties. (So not going to pull a Britney for this crowd.) One man hands me a pint of lager. I take a long sip. As a vampire I can’t really get drunk, but I bet I look impressive draining my glass in one long gulp.
“So,” I say. “I have a question.”
“We likely have an answer, ma’am,” says one of the guys.
“And if not, we can find out.”
“Yes, ask away, beautiful lady.”
“Oh, you boys are so sweet,” I coo. “Very well then. But I warn you, it may sound a bit strange.”
“It won’t, miss,” says a burly guy at the far end. “Don’t worry about that.”
“Okay,” I say, reaching into my purse and pulling out a cigarette. I slowly light the tip and take a drag. (I know, I know, I totally said I was quitting. But I’m a vampire. I can’t exactly die of lung cancer. So I think once in a while it might be okay to light up—especially when I’m doing everything I can to channel sexy, bad girl Rayne.) “I’m looking for a pack of wolves.”
The men stare at me and then at each other. Some wear complete poker faces while others start sweating a little.
”Wolves?” the tallest man says. He has shoulders the size of a linebacker’s, pads on. “I’m sure out in the woods you can find—”
“Oh, silly boy, you know I’m not talking about common, everyday wolves,” I chide him. “I mean, what do you take me for? Some stupid woman?”
Head shakes all around. No, of course they don’t. At this moment they see me as Venus herself. I should use this vampire scent thing more often.
“What I’m looking for, boys,” I say, “are Lycans.” I pause for dramatic effect. “Do you know where I can find a pack of Lycans living in this town?”
“Find ‘em?” pipes in a skinny man from the back. “You already have ‘em, missie.”
Rumbling conversation breaks out between the men. There’s obviously some argument about whether that little fact should have been revealed. I’m, of course, delighted. This was easier than I thought. As much as I hate the English vampires, they totally hooked us up with the right location.
I glance over at the men. Could they really be Lycan? The pack I’m looking for? They look so normal.
So working-class Englishman. But then the cheerleaders aren’t exactly sprouting fangs and fur on their non-full-moon days, either. “So you all are .. . ?”
A consensus seems to have been reached and a big, burly man to my right steps forward, puffing out his chest in pride. “We’re all Lycans. The lot of us.”
I smile. “How lucky for me to have stumbled upon you.”
“Indeed,”
the man says. “I am Lupine, alpha of the Order of the Gray Wolf, at your service.”
Does one shake hands with a werewolf? Or do they, I don’t know, sniff butts to get to know one another? Ew, I so don’t want to go there. I decide to try the handshake. Luckily Lupine shakes back, making no sudden move for my ass. “So you’re wolves, but you live in town as men?” I query. I’ve got to warm them up a bit before I tell them what I really want.
“Of course. Don’t believe the stories you read in horror novels, miss. Most Lycans are prominent members of their communities. We can control our shape-shift and are completely in control of our actions when in feral form.”
I think back to the cheerleaders and the havoc they wreaked on my town. Definitely not exhibiting the control thing there.
“What about during the full moon? Don’t you go all crazy then?”
The men laugh. “Only the newbies,” they explain. “And we keep them under lock and key until we can train them to control their instincts.”
“The full moon is an easy pull to resist, once you’ve had some training,” Lupine explains. “It’s the desire to mate that can bring out your inner wolf, even in the most disciplined among us.” He gestures to a man at the back of the bar. “For example, look at John over there. He’s starting to change right now, just from looking at you.”
I glance over at John, who’s standing behind the others. He’s sprouted some gray hair on his chest and white fur is sticking out of his ears. I watch, fascinated, as his nose seems to elongate like Pinocchio’s, right before my eyes.
His face turns crimson as he realizes we’re all staring at him. “Uh, I’ve, uh, got to go see a man about a dog,” he mutters, turning and fleeing the bar.
The men break out into laughter, slapping each other on the back.
“John’s always been a bit of a lady’s wolf,” Lupine says with a chuckle.
“So he … ?”
“Yes, lass. Basically, you see, when we get horny, we get, well, hairy!”
Um, ewh. I wonder what the womenfolk think of that. Though, I guess they’re probably in the same fuzzy boat. Of course, this would mean it’s a lot harder to hide the fact that your partner just isn’t doing it for you anymore.
Sorry, dear, I just can’t seem to get hairy tonight.
Don’t worry, dear. It happens to all wolves once in a while.
One of the men leans in to sniff me. (No, not my butt, thank goodness.) “You’re not human yourself, lass,” he proclaims. “Your blood smells funny.”
Now it’s my turn to blush. Should I tell them the truth? I guess it’s okay. After all, these guys just admitted they regularly howl at the moon. A little fang will seem like nothing to them.
“I’m a vampire,” I confess. “Just turned last spring.”
They look at me, wide-eyed and interested. “A vampire, eh?” says one. “I’ve never met a real one before.”
“Do you sleep in a coffin?”
I laugh. “No, I have a room at Appleby Manor.”
“Can you not see your own reflection?”
“Do you think my hair would look this good if I couldn’t?”
“What about crosses? Do they burn you like fire?”
“Totally. And I’m really grossed out by garlic. But I never liked that before my conversion either, so no big loss.”
“Do you die if someone stakes you through the heart?”
I groan. “Jeez, guys, give it a rest. I’m a vampire, not a freak show. And besides, you guys are werewolves. Do silver bullets work? Do you howl at the moon? Is the American Werewolf in London based on any of your kin?”
They laugh and slap me on the back. “Touché, vampire lass,” one says. “Touché.”
“So one more question,” says Lupine. “Why is a Yank vampire like you looking for Lycans in our humble bar?”
“Well, I’m glad you asked,” I say. “Do you remember a group of American girls coming this way last summer? They would have been here for some cheerleading competition.”
The men groan in sync. “Can’t forget them,” says one. “Me ears were ringin’ from the blasted noise they made for near three weeks after they left.”
I laugh. “Yup, that would be them,” I say. “Well, they’re now back in Massachusetts, of course, but they’ve… changed.”
“What do you mean?”
“Um, simply put, I think they’re werewolves.”
The men erupt in concerned murmurs. I wait patiently, lighting another cigarette.
Finally Lupine speaks. “That’s impossible,” he says.
I shrug. “Impossible or not, I’m telling you the truth. And this is the one place where they could have become infected.”
“But we haven’t turned a wolf in more than five hundred years,” Lupine says. “Bringing in new mouths to feed would be counterproductive. It would destroy the pack. The only way you can enter the Order of the Gray Wolf is to be born into it.”
I scratch my head. That doesn’t make any sense. If they don’t turn people into werewolves, how was the squad infected?
“Is there any way there could be someone outside your pack who could have done an unauthorized bite or something?”
The men talk amongst themselves again. “What about the Lone Wolf?” I hear one ask.
“The what?”
“There was a boy who challenged Lupine, our alpha,” the man explains. “He had delusions of grandeur. Decided he wanted to take over the pack. Of course he was defeated.” The men all look gratefully at Lupine, who I imagine was the one who kicked this guy’s ass. “And sent away, tail between his legs.”
“But as he left, he vowed revenge. Said he would start his own pack and eventually destroy us.”
“Perhaps he found your girls and decided to make them his mates.”
Lupine squeezes his hands into fists. “I knew I should not have let him leave alive.”
I’m beginning to get a sick, excited feeling in my stomach. “That’s got to be it. He must have somehow bitten all the cheerleaders while they were here for their tournament.”
“Kiss ‘em is all he’d have to do,” explains a bearded guy in the front. “Lycanthropy is spread through saliva.”
I remember Shantel talking about the party they all went to. How they got so drunk they didn’t remember how they got home.
“But why wouldn’t he keep them here in England? Why let them go back to America?”
“He’s weak. Not born to be an alpha. He may have not been able to stop them. But you can be sure he’s sending them telepathic messages. And once he gains more strength, he will call to them. And they will come.”
“The situation is grave indeed,” says Lupine, his yellowish eyes squinting in worry. “Untrained wolves running around. They could cause serious problems when the moon is full.”
“Yeah, they already are. That’s why I’m here. We have to figure out a way to cure them. Is there one?” I cross my fingers, praying for an affirmative answer.
Luckily Lupine nods. “There is an antidote,” he says. “When our cubs reach maturity we give them the choice. Stay with the pack or live the rest of their days as a human. Those who choose humanity are doused with antidote and sent out into the world, never to return.”
Hope sparks inside me. “Great! I was hoping you’d say that!” I exclaim. “Do you have any to spare that I can take back to America?”
“We can make some up for you, not a problem. Just takes a little of the old secret ingredient,” Lupine says. The men all chuckle and I wonder what joke I’m missing out on.
“Secret ingredient?”
“Alpha wolf piss,” explains Lupine.
I stare at him. “Urn, ew?”
The men laugh.
“Don’t worry, luv,” says Lupine. “We distill it and by the time it’s in antidote form it’s only one part of a million. You won’t even be able to smell it.”
“Oh-kay. I trust you,” I say. Actually it’s a bit amusing to imagine feeding the cheerl
eaders wolf piss. “So how’s it administered?”
“Topically. Just let it seep through the skin.”
“That sounds easy enough.”
“Not really. You see, it can only be applied when they’re in wolf form.”
“Oh.” Yes, I can see where that would be a bit more challenging. What am I supposed to do? Wait ‘til homecoming and then try to trap them all in the same room? Get out the old Super Soaker and blast them all with it once they start growing claws and teeth? If it doesn’t work right away I’ll have some pretty angry, deadly wolves on my ass.
I shake my head. I’ll think of something. The important thing now is to get the antidote.
“So when can you have it made?” I ask,
“Give us ‘til tomorrow morning,” says Lupine. “We’ll have it for you by then.”
“Great!” I exclaim. “Thank you, guys. You’re really helpful.”
“Not a problem. We’re sorry this happened to your friends. When we find Lone Wolf we will definitely take him out so this does not happen again.”
“One more question,” I say. “A few of our football players have been missing since the whole incident. Do you think it’s possible they were … eaten?”
The men look at one another, then shake their heads. “Unlikely,” they say. “Are these boys attractive to the bitches?”
I know he means female dogs, but I kinda like the innuendo. “Sure. In fact, one of them is the boyfriend of the cheerleader.”
“Then it’s doubtful they ate them. More likely they’re presenting them as a gift to Lone Wolf, their alpha. Subservient males to put under his control. A rogue wolf like him would like weak, human males because it will not challenge his dominance.”
“I see,” I say. Hmm, I wonder how I can find out where they stashed the boys. “Thanks, guys. You were really helpful. I’ll come back in the a.m. to get the antidote.”
“Not a problem, vampire,” says Lupine. “Perhaps someday our kinds will meet again. You are always welcome to howl with us.”
I grin. I’m so not going to turn away from this chance. “Arrroooooo!”