Wolf and Raven

  He nodded and opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. I eased the gunmuzzle’s pressure on his bow tie and he swallowed to make sure his throat still worked. “You can’t go in there. They’re in executive session.”

  “Always seen myself as executive material,” I barked at him. I stepped past and he tried to grab me. I heard a thump, then a sigh. I glanced back at Tiger and saw him tuck away a sap, then headed up the stairs. Tom Electric sat himself on the maitre’d’s stool and pinned the man to the ground with an AK-97.

  Zig and Zag took up positions at the top of the stairs while I led Raven deeper into the building. With a kick I splintered the lock on the board room door and boldly strode into the center of the room. I did remember the trap door and used the hall light spilling into the room to avoid its outline. All around me I saw hunched silhouettes leaning forward.

  “Sorry to be interrupting, Brothers and Sisters. I never got to thank you for your hospitality before.” I sketched a careful bow, ending it abruptly when my rib began to ache. “When I was invited to dinner I hardly expected to become the center of attention.”

  The Grandmaster’s sable unicorn kill became illuminated as he spoke. “What do you want, Mr. Kies?”

  “I’m wondering how I get a bloodlock off a chrome-dome like you.” I arched an eyebrow at him. “If I off you, do I get a chair on your board and have your ugly mug perched behind me?”

  Brother Bear took offense at my tone. “You have no right to be here. Leave at once.”

  I swung the MP-9 in his direction. The single shot I let off passed just over his head, between the wings of his chair, and exploded the bear’s head. “Damn, shooting high. That happens after you’ve had a hole blown in your chest.”

  “Your attempt at humor is not amusing, Mr. Kies.” The Grandmaster sat back in his chair. “I can understand your anger. Will fifty thousand nuyen show you we’re sorry?”

  “Fifty K is a nice sum for the first installment, but I’ll give you a break.” I shrugged easily. “One time deal: you give me the money and you stop the hunts.”

  “Policies of this club are not your concern.” The Grandmaster leaned forward. “If you are threatening us with war, you will find yourself on the losing side.”

  Raven came up on my right. “Will we?”

  The Grandmaster nodded slowly and the other silhouettes aped him in silence. “We have the weapons and the money and the power to destroy you. You are nothing. No one will notice if you die. We offer to enrich you and give you your life. Do not press your luck.”

  “Luck is not part of this equation.” Raven shook his head resolutely. He kept his voice low, but it still filled the room. “You are huntsmen and pride yourselves on having mastered the most dangerous creatures on the planet. You study your quarry. You track it and you take it.” Raven’s eyes pulsed with fire. “This time, though, you have been stupid, and all the material things you have will not afford you victory.”

  “Is that so?”

  “It is. You hunt the SINless because they are insignificant. Within the shadows of this city, life is cheap and you know it. You think this makes you invincible because no one cares about your prey.” Doc’s eyes sharpened. “You would get more of a fight to protect the rights of rats to live in a tenement than you would to defend the lives of people like Albion.”

  “You make my case for me.” The Grandmaster’s head came up. “Those people are nothing. They mean nothing. We know it, those ignoble beasts know it. Their lives are worthless.”

  I saw where Raven was headed and his nod let me pick up the fight. “You’re right, their lives are worthless. That means we can hand a gun and fifty nuyen to any of them along with your picture. See, the only thing you don’t have going for you is numbers. There are more of them than there are you, and even if your security is good enough to pick up sixty or seventy percent of their attacks, you’ll still be maggot-munchies.”

  I let out a chuckle. “And, hey, when they learn you’re going to be hunting them anyway, we won’t even have to pay them. If we offer a prize, they’ll pay us for a ticket in the martial lottery.”

  The image of a bazooka-toting biped Bambi battalion shooting back at them did not thrill the membership in the least. “Doc, do you think we can get an all-night printer to start turning out hunting permits on our way back across town?”

  “We can use the phone in the Rolls to start things going.”

  The Grandmaster sat back. “If these hunts that you allege to be occurring—but which we have never admitted taking place—were to stop . . .”

  “And a schedule of reparation payments were made to the survivors of these hunt victims,” Raven added.

  “Quite. If this were to take place, then you would see no reason to take action?”

  Raven nodded. “A list of persons and amounts to be paid can be in your computer by tomorrow. If you agree to meet it, I would consider the matter closed.”

  “Done.”

  Raven looked over at me. “Is that satisfactory to you, Wolf?”

  “’Cept for one thing, yeah, very satisfactory.” I looked up at the Grandmaster. “When you next see Sister Snake, tell her we still have a date.” I jiggled the MP-9. “Tell her it’s flak-vest optional.”

  * * *

  As we wandered back down the hallway and picked up Zig and Zag at the top of the stairs, I tried to figure out how I’d find Selene Reece. With her money and the connections the club afforded her, she could be hiding literally anywhere in the world. After today she’d know I was still alive and would dig her hidey-hole a little deeper.

  And if that didn’t make things tough enough, she’d know I was after her. Given her skills as a hunter, I had no doubt I’d be facing the most dangerous prey. Oddly enough, that did not concern me as much as I thought it would. The very fact that I could make a run at her meant she wasn’t infallible.

  Stepping into a warm rain as we left the club, I turned to Raven. “I won’t make the mistake she did. When I do her, I’ll make sure she’s dead.”

  “I am certain that is what she intended to do with you, Wolf.” Raven nodded at the shadows near the Rolls. “I don’t believe she got that chance.”

  Stealth opened the Rolls’ boot and shoved a rifle-case into it. He slammed the lid down with his flesh and blood hand, then stepped up onto the sidewalk. He said nothing, a flesh and chrome monument.

  “Selene Reece is dead?”

  The Murder Machine nodded once. “I’d heard rumors of a club that hunted people for sport. I decided that discovering it needed to be more than a project of leisure.”

  I shivered at his cold, mechanical delivery. “You learned that I was going to the club last night. You found me in time to kill Selene.”

  “300 meters, .600 Nitro-express, night scope, no rest.” Zag shivered. “Impressive shot.”

  I swallowed hard. “Thanks for the freebie.”

  “Amateurs kill for free.” He popped open a compartment on his metallic left arm and tossed me a blue silk sachet tied with a lock of black hair. “I am a professional.” Through the silk I felt some coins[31] making up change from the ten nuyen I’d given him two nights before. From the second he’d seen Albion’s body, Stealth had known what would happen. That was why he’d insisted I give him the money and why I’d had a guardian angel following me, waiting. . . .

  I looked up at him. “Was I your bait?”

  “You were my patron.”

  I nodded, ignoring the growing ache in my ribs. Slipping the knot from the silk, I poured the money into my pocket. I offered Stealth back his trophy, but he shook his head. I tossed Selene’s hair into the gutter, and as the rain washed it toward the sewer I realized that no matter how much of a predator you figure yourself to be, you can always be someone else’s fair game.

  If As Beast You Don’t Succeed

  I

  When you come right down to it, there’s no easy way to tell the woman you intend to marry that you’re a werewolf. If I’d been a h
it-man for the mob or had worked clean-up for yakuza enforcers or had even been a poacher out in the Tir, I could have told her straight out. I would have taken Lynn’s hand in mine and said, “Look, there’s something you should know about me. I’ve done some bad things in my life, but that’s all ended now.”

  That would have been easy. The confession, some tears, some hugging, some kissing, and an “I’ll marry you, Wolf,” would have all followed one after the other. Not that I’d gone this route before, but I knew it would have worked. Women seem to find honesty seductive—probably because there’s so damned little of it in the courting process. Besides, I had it so bad for Lynn I couldn’t let myself even think about her rejecting me.

  But that was in the case where I confessed being a mass murderer or something just as bad. Being a werewolf, on the other hand, was much worse[32].

  Lynn would try to understand, and I knew that for her a try was as good as doing. Her parents would be decidedly more difficult to sway. In an instant I saw Lynn’s parents inviting me to dinner and the effect my little revelation might have. “That’s nice, dear,” Blanche Ingold would say politely. “Does that mean we shouldn’t use the good silver?”

  Phil would have a use for the silver and probably wouldn’t have that difficult a time finding the bullet molds or a gunsmith to do the trick for him. I liked Phil, and he liked me, but he’d still be at the door with a gun to keep me away from Lynn. I couldn’t blame him, really. No man wants to think about having to paper-train his grandchildren.

  My telecom beeped, rescuing me from the nihilistic and depressing spiral my thoughts had spun into over the last two hours. I swore when I saw it was only a piece of email from Raven. I’d have wanted him to stay on-line so we could discuss the message I’d sent him earlier. I decrypted his message by hitting two keys and read it as the words scrolled up the screen.

  Wolf,

  Kid Stealth, Tom Electric, Tark, and I are taking Valerie Valkyrie and heading up to Oak Harbor to probe a bit more deeply into Mr. Sampson’s background. Uncertain when we will return. I would heartily encourage you continue to see Lynn Ingold as we would not want another attempt to abduct her.

  We will discuss the matter of your message upon my return. I am glad you are happy, my friend.

  —Raven

  As I read the message I found myself of two minds, the two at war with each other. I was a bit piqued that Raven hadn’t asked me to go with him on the investigation. I am, after all, his longest surviving aide and I’ve got talents that all the cybernetics built into Kid Stealth and Tom Electric combined can’t equal.

  More important, I’d brought the Sampson matter to his attention in the first place. The Halloweeners, a street gang that controlled what had once been my old neighborhood, were never much of a threat to anyone beside themselves. This proved especially true after the Night of Fire a couple of years ago when the Weenies had been taken down, hard. It took them over a year to get back up to strength and then they had to fight to reclaim their turf.

  That fight had been going poorly, which was no great surprise because Charles the Red was still in charge of the Weenies. Then this huge guy, with long blond hair and arrogance dense enough to stop bullets, showed up and started giving orders. Chuckles accepted his demotion graciously and, after getting out of the hospital, started backing Mr. Sampson in his effort to retake Weenie turf.

  I’d never been on good terms with the Halloweeners, and Charles the Red thought of me as the person responsible for destroying the gang. I knew that wasn’t the whole truth, but letting Charles imagine it was kept him away from the others who’d broken the Weenies. I had Raven backing me, which meant Charles growled a lot, but didn’t bite.

  Then Sampson showed up and the Weenies started being a lot more aggressive. Raven decided to see what he could do to discourage them, and thus had begun the investigation of Mr. Sampson. Apparently something had turned up to link Sampson to Oak Harbor and I was glad Raven was following up on the lead. Still, getting left behind made me feel like I was being punished when I hadn’t done anything.

  I stopped for a second. Wolf, sending Raven that message this morning can hardly be considered nothing.

  The message had said that I’d decided to ask Lynn to marry me and, for that reason, I felt I had to sever my connections with Raven and his crew.

  I smiled as I reread Doc’s suggestion that I continue to see Lynn. Short of having me trussed up and hauled down to the southwestern deserts that had spawned him, Raven knew he couldn’t have kept me away from her. It pleased me to see that he took real joy in seeing that I’d found the happiness he denied himself.

  The alarm on the telecom went off, and I realized I was going to be late if I didn’t get moving. With the stroke of one button, I zapped the message, then retreated to my bedroom. I stood there, staring at the clothes hanging in my closet, and shook my head in dismay. If haute couture ever discovers kevlar, I’ll be doing turns on Paris runways. But though I was amply supplied for playing the well-heeled soldier of fortune, I had virtually nothing to wear that could be described as normal.

  I shook my head again. That’s because you ARE a soldier of fortune, Wolfgang Kies. For the past eight years you’ve worked with Raven in his battle to keep the chaos of the Awakening from swallowing up what’s left of humanity. You and the others have helped hold the line that keeps normal people safe from magical monsters and technological monstrosities. There’s nothing wrong with being a warrior, and your clothes have allowed you to survive dressing for the part. . .

  I finally settled on a pair of jeans Lynn had cajoled me into buying on our last outing—so I’d have some that had more fabric than holes, she said. The gray t-shirt I selected had two advantages: it was clean and it was woven of kevlar. Though I didn’t expect trouble, I’d not become Raven’s longest-living aide by being completely stupid. Lastly I chose my black leather jacket to wear over it, even though it had a red and black raven patch on the left shoulder.

  Having solved that problem, I hit the shower for a quick, somewhat bracing scrub-down. I had a devil of a time trying to wash my back and actually gave up after not too much effort. As long as I was going to be confessing things to Lynn, I figured I could add in needing help with that little job and see if she’d offer assistance.

  That tactic had worked before.

  I toweled myself dry and found myself standing before the mirror, doing the obligatory, Double-X chromosomally challenged person’s flexing and posturing. I’m not as tall as some men, but taller than most. I have a lean, muscular build that had prompted a few folks—the aforementioned Charles the Red being one—to think of me as easy pickings until we tangled. Brown hair covered my torso front and back, yet it couldn’t hide the myriad scars that crisscrossed my flesh. Each one reminded me of some adventure I’d had with Dr. Raven—and even a few from before I hooked up with him.

  A fairly recent scar, a puckered, pink dot with a line bisecting it right beneath my left nipple, stood out because the chest hair around it hadn’t fully grown back in yet. I’d gotten that scar from a bullet shot at me by a big-time hunter who wanted to bag a human. She’d gone from hunter to hunted—if one can say that maggots actively hunt—and her compatriots curtailed their poaching of human targets in one of my most recent adventures with Raven.

  Scars. They meant I’d survived. No one could say that I hadn’t given better than I got in all these adventures, but something inside of me was weary of it all.

  There’ll come a point when you don’t live long enough to scar.

  I forcibly turned my mind away from maudlin thoughts. I dressed quickly and headed out of the apartment. At the door I hesitated and almost tucked the Beretta Viper[33] in my waistband, but I knew Lynn would hate it. Not wanting to give her any reason to be even slightly displeased with me, I left the gun on the foyer table and went out into the cool autumn afternoon air.

  I set off at a leisurely pace and tried to keep my mind clear of any matters vexing or bother
some, but that wasn’t as simple as it might seem. I tried to think of Lynn—which was easy—but my thoughts quickly veered off into the vortex from which Raven’s message had diverted me.

  “Maybe I could ease into it. . . . The next time we go shopping I’ll just pick up some dog biscuits or flea and tick shampoo ...” I laughed aloud at that thought, but a sinister thought followed close behind.

  Dr. Raven knew my secret—he’d helped me conquer the darker, savage, wolf side of myself before I could cause too much damage. Through Raven I learned of the Wolf spirit dwelling within me and because of Raven I was able to use the wolf’s strength and speed as other warriors used cybernetics to enhance their abilities in combat. In enabling me to gain control, Raven had very definitely saved my life, sanity, and soul.

  Valerie Valkyrie, Raven’s newest aide, knew nothing of my affliction, nor did Tom Electric or Plutarch Graogrim, even though the three of us had worked together for the last several years. Kid Stealth probably did have some idea that there was something special about me from the time when he was stalking Raven’s crew, but he’d never mentioned it. Jimmy Mackelroy had a vague idea about me being different, but I knew his secret, so we were even and, even more in his favor, he wasn’t really inquisitive about my peculiarities.

  The others who had learned the truth about me were the real reason I wanted to find a way to leave Lynn in the dark. The Silicon Wasp, Robin Carter, and Mr. Stilts were all members of Doc’s entourage who’d known my secret. Each one had taken the secret to his grave, and there were simsense starlets whose careers had lasted longer than my friends did once they knew. I knew it was only coincidence, but learning that secret seemed about as safe as drinking a plutonium cocktail. Though I should have taken heart in the fact that Raven had survived the longest of all, somehow I harbored the fear that knowing the truth had killed the others.

  As much as I wanted to share my secret with Lynn, as much as I wanted to share my life with her, I didn’t want to add any more pain to her life. I’d sooner have shot myself than cause her any hurt. And, of course, being male and in love meant I knew there was a solution to the problem somewhere. All I had to do was find it and use it to keep Lynn safe.