The Wolves of Third Clan Read online

  Chapter 7

  The ride back to Dallas was strange because I was looking at my new-found family members in a different light. It wasn’t one of enhanced appreciation or decreased enthusiasm, it was just different. What Detective Hallowed imparted gave me an insight into the kind of people Vampires and Werewolves were; rugged individuals with vast appetites and a non-nitpicky food preference. The detective parted ways with us at the lakeside parking lot and something was said between him and George which left me under the impression I would see him again, that he was on our side in this tug of war, but I could be wrong because what they said was out of earshot and I only got the impression because of the looks each gave the other upon finishing their little chit-chat. So I found myself once again in their presence without any real knowledge of what was to transpire or how I’d have any bearing on it.

  “Trudy?”

  “Yes, Johnny?”

  “Where are we going?”

  “To our nightclub.”

  “You have a nightclub?”

  “Yes, we have a nightclub.”

  “What’s it called?”

  “You’ll see.”

  “Come on, tell me.”

  “I’ll tell you what; if you don’t recognize which club is ours by its name I’ll buy you any drink on the house, okay?” she asked.

  I’m not normally a betting man but it seemed a pretty easy wager to win. Just sit back and say nothing as we drove up, then feign ignorance if I guessed correctly.

  Bloody Mary’s is located in Deep Elum. A small part of downtown Dallas zoned for the specific purpose of giving people a place to do what people have done since the discovery of fermentation; party too much and make fools of themselves which they later regret until the time comes to do it again. And, no, I didn’t get the free drink because I couldn’t help blurting out ‘You’ve got to be kidding’ as soon as I saw the name of the nightclub out the front windshield. It’d been converted from a warehouse to a gothic dance-club with dim lighting, techno-pop dance floor and a bar located within twenty-five feet of wherever you were located ready to serve your every desire as long as they had the ingredients and you had the cash.

  “Uh, guys?”

  “Yes, Johnny?” said Phillip.

  “Where is everyone?”

  “It’s four in the morning.”

  “Oh. Uh, guys?”

  “Yes, Johnny?” said Phillip again.

  “Why am I not tired?”

  “You’re not? Good. The stories mentioned it might happen but we really had no idea if they were true or not” said Trudy.

  “If what was true or not?”

  “Well, when you received our blood you essentially became disease proof. Everyday challenges your body had to ward off like colds and flus are no longer a concern so you don’t need to spend extra energy warding them off” she said.

  “I’m disease proof?”

  “Yes.”

  “Awesome!”

  “Yes, it is awesome” she agreed.

  “Does other stuff happen?” I asked.

  “Maybe” she replied.

  “What other stuff?”

  “You’ll stop showing age, you’ll tolerate heat and cold immensely better and you might live for an extremely long time.”

  “How long?”

  “It depends” Trudy responded.

  “On what?”

  “On whether we win this war or you’re killed by a Werewolf or Vampire.”

  “Oh. So I won’t get any older?”

  “You’ll age, you just won’t show any physical signs for quite some time.”

  “Trudy?”

  “Yes, Johnny?”

  “How old are you?”

  “Old enough to know better.”

  The inside of Bloody Mary’s was situated like any other modern nightclub. It had places for people to sit, stand, dance or stumble according to their conditional desires at the time. A main bar was located near the north entrance and there were three side bars situated on the subsequent directional compass headings. We were making our way toward the east bar and I began to take notice of the interior decoration. The floor was covered with blood-red carpet, the barstools were silver and black, the walls were black-white polka-dot and the ceiling was jet black except for the occasional recessed lighting which gave the place the aura of walking on a strange planet. I assumed we were heading to sit at the bar and talk about the day’s events but, to my surprise, we walked past the oasis of intoxicating pleasure toward a pair of swinging doors camouflaged into the walls décor so effectively I probably wouldn’t have noticed them if I’d come on my own; definitely not if I’d stopped at the pre-mentioned isle of liquid oblivion.

  “Darn.”

  “It won’t work now” Phillip said.

  “What won’t work?”

  “Booze.”

  “What?”

  “Alcohol won’t work on you anymore.”

  “What are you saying, Phillip?”

  “You can’t get a buzz from liquor anymore, Johnny.”

  “Can you please say that again? I don’t think I heard you correctly.”

  “You can’t get wasted anymore. Johnny? Hey man, it’s not so bad, you’ll get used to it eventually.”

  “No more alcohol?”

  “No, I didn’t say that; you can drink but won’t get you drunk.”

  “Then what’s the point in drinking it?!”

  “For the flavor?”

  “The flavor? Are you kidding me? It usually took me a good stiff one just to get over the flavor. Oh my God! Is it too late to turn back?”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God,…”

  “It’s for the best, Johnny.”

  “Best is a very subjective term, Phillip.”

  The swinging doors led to the kitchen which was surprisingly large for an establishment catering to the nightlife scene of central Dallas. Now, some might be curious about that statement and I believe it’s because there seems to be a misperception about the city of Dallas. Dallas is like any other large metropolitan city which means it houses a vast amount of people in a relatively small area. When a lot of people get together there are many varying preferences. Some people like quiet places, some loud places, some fancy steakhouses, some sushi-bars, some prefer casual dining and some enjoy places where the very idea of normal is an anathema. Deep Elum is based on the idea dirty and grungy are the preferred ambiances of proper nightclubs so the notion one of their establishments contained a fully functioning restaurant-style kitchen must’ve been something the anti-code inspector missed as he drank his way through the certification process. The kitchen was awe-inspiring; grills with venting hoods lined the back walls, walk-in coolers promised fresh fruit and a working chef’s table complete with every type of frying or sautéing pan imaginable was positioned perfectly in the center so all one had to do in order to work on their culinary masterpiece was take two steps in any direction and retrieve whatever ingredient they wanted to finish their mouth-watering delicacy. I was in Heaven and I didn’t even cook. Oh yeah, I guess I wasn’t in Heaven because it’s a place where green, big-eyed, long-neck, monitor Aliens live.

  “Johnny, are you hungry?” asked George.

  “Starved” I replied.

  “What would you like?”

  “Everything. Anything. Why, what are you going to eat?”

  “A burger. You want one?”

  One? I wanted ten. I’d never been so hungry in my life and I couldn’t for the life of me figure out why. I’d eaten breakfast the previous morning and it wasn’t like I was a stranger to going without food for a day.

  “Sure” I said.

  “You’re a bit hungry aren’t you” Vivian said as she stood next to me while I watched George turn on the grill and leave to get the burgers.

  “I am utterly famished.”

  “You’ll get used to it. It’s because of your blood.”

  “Why is it always becaus
e of the blood?” I asked.

  “Because your blood is what preserves you. Nothing else carries the nutrients you need, rids the waste you don’t and delivers whatever chemicals your body desires for survival. It’s basically your transportation system which keeps everything functioning properly.”

  “So why am I so hungry?”

  “Hunger is your body’s warning signal you’re running low on sugar. Every cell in your body uses sugar as a source of energy. When you bonded with us your cells began the transformation of becoming perfect in function so, essentially, until they’ve prepared themselves to work without flaw you’ll be burning a lot of energy during the transformation.”

  “What?”

  “Sorry. Okay, example time. Let’s say you ran a marathon. Now, after the marathon your legs will be exhausted but you’ll still be able to walk because some of your leg muscles will have preserved their energy. Now, for about two days your legs will hurt while they repair themselves and restore energy. That’s how you worked as a normal person; a slow, methodical healing process which always allowed some functionability while it took place; got it?”

  “Kind of.”

  “Kind of is fine. So anyway, because you’ve bonded the process has sped up dramatically. You’ll no longer save some muscles in reserve and you’ll go all out till complete failure. Instead of waiting two days to heal and recover you’ll do it virtually instantaneously. Your cells will be functioning at their peak ability. They will be, in essence, perfect.”

  “So, why am I hungry?”

  “Because those cells are sucking up sugar as fast as you can eat it.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yay! Here comes George with the burgers.”

  I almost cried when I saw the mounds of ground beef on the tray. They were piled up so high you would’ve thought a cow suddenly imploded and it was a glorious sight to behold.

  Waiting for those chopped meat-muscles to cook was excruciating because the aroma had me salivating like an English bulldog waiting for, well, waiting for hamburger patties to finish cooking. Once they were finally done George yelled ‘Let’s eat’ and I must say there had to be something about what Vivian said because I beat everyone to the dining table which was set up next to the east-bar still holding many of my favorite liquors enticing me to prove Phillip wrong.

  “Dig in!” George yelled and I felt a slight twinge of embarrassment because I already had a burger in hand with a bite taken out and a handful of fries.

  “Okay, where do we stand?” began George.

  “I think we should go over what transpired. Maybe we missed something which will give us a clue” said Vivian.

  “Okay, let’s start at the beginning. How did the meeting get set up?” replied George.

  “Peter said he got a good lead on a new product line which would knock ten percent off our chemical costs” said Trudy.

  “Who’d he hear it from?” asked Phillip.

  “He didn’t say” Trudy responded.

  “Did he meet with anyone prior, maybe another supplier who gave him the information?” asked George.

  “I don’t know, he was pretty secretive at the time.”

  “Did he say anything which would’ve given you the impression he was doing something on the outside?”

  There was a low growl coming from Phillip and I got the impression he wasn’t happy with George asking Trudy questions.

  “Phillip!” Trudy said sternly.

  “Yes, Mistress” he responded.

  “Back down!”

  “Yes, Mistress.”

  “I’m sorry, George, go on” Trudy said.

  “Did he give you the impression he had anything going on outside the company?”

  “Well, yes, but he gave us all that impression, didn’t he?”

  The four of them nodded their assent and became introspective. It was downright quiet around the table except for the lip-smacking and I got a little uncomfortable so I spoke up.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “We’re talking about how Peter was before he wasn’t” said George.

  “How he was before he wasn’t?”

  “Yes, how he was acting before he got killed.”

  “How was he acting?”

  “Secretive.”

  “Secretive?”

  “My God man, do you always repeat what people say?”

  “Sorry, it’s a thing I do. Okay, so he was secretive. What does that mean?”

  The look the four of them gave each other spoke volumes. Unfortunately, I didn’t speak volume so I had to ask…

  “What?”

  “We think he was having an affair?” said Vivian.

  “An affair?”

  “Really, Johnny? Every time?”

  “Sorry, I’ll try and stop. So, who thinks he was having an affair? Come on, let’s see a show of hands.”

  All four raised their hands so I guess it was proof positive dead Peter was having an affair but there was one problem.

  “Who was he having an affair with?”

  Everyone shook their head in the universal acknowledgement of ‘I don’t know’.

  “Okay, who was he having an affair on?”

  Alright, admittedly it was an awkward question because, quite frankly, I don’t know if ‘affair’ is a verb or noun. If you’re having something doesn’t it imply what you’re having is a noun?

  I THINK SO.

  But the act itself leads one to believe it’s a verb because it’s doing something.

  TRUE.

  I don’t think we’ve got the whole ‘diction’ thing down. But anyways, there was another reason the question was awkward, namely, ‘Who was the jilted party?’”

  “Stephanie” they said in unison.

  “Stephanie? Who’s Stephanie?”

  “Stephanie’s our Matriarch” said Trudy.

  “Your matriarch?”

  “Johnny, seriously, if you keep repeating everything everyone says I’m going to rip your tongue out” said Phillip in as polite a manner as possible considering the subject matter.

  “Go for it you big…”

  But I couldn’t get the rest of the words out because the lummox had my tongue trapped between his right index finger and thumb. How does one to that?

  IT’S REALLY QUITE SIMPLE, YOU JUST…

  Shut up, it was a rhetorical question and I only bring it up because it might come in handy during employee meetings. You know the ones. The ones where the meeting is almost over and the person holding the meeting asks if anyone has a question and everyone is raring to leave but can’t because some passive-aggressive busybody decides it’s the perfect time to bring up a stupid question which is unanswerable in the relatively short time available to wrap up the meeting.

  I THOUGHT PEOPLE SAID THERE WERE NO STUPID QUESTIONS.

  They’re wrong. There are stupid questions and they’re universally asked by stupid people at stupid times in stupid meetings.

  “Phillip, let go of the man’s tongue” said George and after about one second Phillip did. Good thing for him too because I was about to go all righteous on him and show what my Cloaking abilities could do.

  OH, ARE THEY MORE POWERFUL THAN BEFORE?

  Are they more…? Oh, forget it.

  “Not very nice, Phillip” I said.

  “Sorry, but you did say ‘go for it’.”

  “I didn’t mean my tongue. And by the way, Yuck!, wash your hands before grabbing someone’s tongue.”

  “What? They’re clean.”

  “They’re not clean. I saw you picking your nose with them.”

  “So?”

  “So, by definition, picking one’s nose is unhygienic.”

  “Unhygienic?”

  “It means unsanitary.”

  “I know what it means.”

  “Then why did you…?”

  And the man had my tongue between his fingers again.

  “Phillip!” snapped Trudy.

  “Sorry, Mistre
ss” he responded and let go.

  “Okay, new rule. There will be no more tongue grabbing at the table; understood?” said Vivian.

  “Yes, Mistress” the two Werewolves said in unison. I didn’t join in because I secretly held out hope I’d one day be able to return the favor.

  “Johnny, our families are run by a matriarchy which means the eldest female is generally in charge” said Vivian.

  “And Stephanie is the eldest female?”

  “Yes” she responded.

  “Okay, so where is she?”

  “She’s hibernating” Trudy said.

  “Hibernating?... Whoa!... Easy there big boy” I got out before Phillip could break his no tongue-grabbing promise.

  “You couldn’t go five minutes without answering a question with a question?” Phillip asked.

  “I’m trying, but you’ve got to admit this is pretty strange stuff and you’re not exactly spilling out a fountain’s worth of information.”

  “He’s right. Okay, I think it’s time to bring him up to speed on our family here. Does everyone agree?” said George.

  They all nodded.

  “Alright, first, I guess we need to know what you know” said George.

  “Okay, I know you all have quite the appetite and absolutely no understanding of portion control. I know Nat is from a planet called Heaven and they designed you to be superior beings but forgot to supply you with enough animals to eat and I still cannot come to terms with the fact you ate all the dinosaurs.

  “We were hungry” said Phillip.

  “Not a good answer.”

  “We left the crocodiles.”

  “Because they didn’t taste good.”

  “Well, true, but we still left them.”

  “Anyway, Nat said his people tried to kill you by flooding and freezing but you learned to hibernate and blood-suck in order to survive. He also said you could only bear children once. Let’s see, yep, finished.”

  “Okay, not too bad a beginning. So, we went about hibernating for quite some time; so long, in fact, we became adjusted to the process. After a while we began to notice the ice was receding but there still weren’t enough animals to keep us alive if we awoke en mass so we kept at it. We believe that’s what set about our problem of barrenness” said George.

  “Barrenness?”

  “We’d been hibernating and self-sharing blood for so long the Vampires eventually developed natural antibodies to all outside cells including embryonic ones.”

  “You couldn’t have children? None at all?”

  “No, and we were looking at the end of our species through accident and attrition until someone came up with a rather brilliant idea” said Trudy.

  “What?”

  “If using one’s own blood enhanced the immune system so much reproduction became impossible what would happen if we used other blood instead? So we began mixing blood and it showed promise with a few births but the failure rate was still too high to overcome the deaths which occurred” continued George.

  “I thought you lived a really long time?”

  “We do, but the world’s a dangerous place and bad things happen to good people.”

  “Like what?”

  “Avalanches, lightning strikes, a pack of lions.”

  “Oh.”

  “Anyway, we had a little bit of success with the blood mixing so we kept diluting our blood until finally we found success. Vampires began having babies again but still could only bear children once because we never did figure out how to overcome the immune system of the Mistresses.”

  “Alright, what’s with the ‘Mistress’ thing.”

  “It’s a sign of respect and a way to reinforce our Matriarchy.”

  “Just curious; why a Matriarchy?”

  “Because Vampires are much less aggressive than us, Johnny. We Werewolves might be big and mean but it doesn’t mean we’re stupid. We could see if left in charge we’d keep killing each other over nothing more than trivial slights” Phillip said.

  “And a Matriarchy stops that?”

  “It does when all the females agree to withhold certain rewards if we didn’t go along” said George.

  “By rewards you mean…?”

  “Yes” Phillip said while glancing at Trudy.

  “That’s just wrong!” I said.

  “But effective” said Vivian with a chuckle.

  “About this time, and I’m talking a long time ago, the planet had been repopulated by the Heavens and we began making our way back out into the world once again. For a while it was Nirvana; all the food one could wish for and an innocence which made them the easiest pickings you’ve ever seen” said George.

  “Huh?”

  “The animals had no idea who we were! They just stood there looking at us like we were shepherds or something, wagging their tasty little tails and munching on leaves. Man, it was beautiful!” Phillip said with righteous glory.

  “Phillip?” asked Trudy.

  “Yes, Mistress?”

  “Please let George finish his story.”

  “Oh, sorry, Mistress.”

  “It’s okay, please continue, George.”

  “Yes, Mistress. Where was I?”

  “Eating defenseless animals” I said by way of help.

  “Yeah. Okay, so after a while we started taking territory for ourselves by staking out claims on land our clans would control. You see, during the Starvation…”

  “The Starvation?”

  “The time right after we ate the dinosaurs.”

  “Oh.”

  “So, during the Starvation we Superiors began separating into groups to invade territories controlled by others. Over time three clans emerged and held sway over their territories. This went on for some time until the Flood came and forced us to seek shelter in the high areas of the world. Now, at this time there were still quite a few of us left but now we found ourselves isolated into three groups occupying three separate but much smaller areas which contained very limited resources.”

  “That’s when you started eating each other?”

  “Who told you that?” asked Vivian in a somewhat scary manner.

  “Nat, Mistress” I replied, adding the ‘Mistress’ thing because I liked the idea of living.

  “Oh” she replied and I guess it was okay because George continued.

  “Yes, Johnny, that’s when we began eating each other. Now you would think this would’ve caused our clans to become less cohesive but a funny thing happened; we actually became much more protective of those who survived. I would guess it’s a coping mechanism designed to increase protective feelings over others of your clan in order to increase its survival but I don’t think anyone’s ever studied it because it’s probably not something we want to remember too much. So anyway, during our isolation from each other we began identifying ourselves according to clan as opposed to one species of Superiors.”

  “Like Humans do.”

  “Yes, like Humans do, except a little more intensely.”

  “How much more intensely?”

  “We kill members of other clans on sight” George replied.

  “Seriously?”

  “Yes, seriously.”

  “That’s insane!”

  “No, it’s not, it’s necessary for the survival of our species” he said.

  “Huh?”

  “We are the apex predators on the planet and if left unchecked we’d certainly try to dominate the entire land which would bring us into the consciousness of Humans and if that happens we’re finished as a species.”

  “Why?”

  “First off, there are many more Humans than us. If they decided to eliminate us we’d certainly fight back but even our superior strength and healing abilities would eventually be overwhelmed by their numbers. Remember, Vampires can bear children only once but Humans can do so many times over.”

  “Yeah, we are good at breeding.”

  “There’s also another reason” said Trudy.

  �
��Which is?” I asked.

  “Go ahead and tell him, George, it’s your story.”

  “Yes, Mistress. The second reason is we need Human blood to deliver our young.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “We need Human blood in order to deliver our young.”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean you needed to repeat the sentence, I meant, well, it’s just an expression of incredulity.”

  “Oh, I guess it is pretty incredible when you first hear about it. Remember me saying we found a way to bear young by combining our blood?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Well, it worked pretty well for a while but even it had a few unfortunate flaws, one of which was diluting the blood so much as to make it virtually unrecognizable as Werewolf or Vampire. The mixing of too many Superiors’ blood allowed the Vampire to bear the child but it came out diluted itself.”

  “Huh?”

  “The children of the over-diluted blood didn’t have the advantages which distinguish us from others on this planet.”

  “Huh?”

  “The children were weaker than us, had a slower healing process and were susceptible to diseases.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “They became the other dominate life form on the planet.”

  “Uh- huh.”

  “The Humans, Johnny.”

  “The Humans what, George?”

  “The over-diluted Superiors became what you would call Human.”

  “What?”

  “Do I need to repeat myself?”

  “No, I guess not. So you’re saying Humans are descendants of Superiors?”

  “Exactly. Diluted, weak, over-populating, short-lived children.”

  “Wow! So why do you need Human blood again?”

  “We need their diluted blood to feed our pregnant Vampires while they’re in hibernation. You see, we found the ratio of half-Human, half-Vampire blood to be the perfect combination allowing the unborn to fight the Vampire anti-bodies but still produce a Superior…”

  He began but never finished because all four of my new friends instantly became very intrigued with something they heard, saw, smelled or whatever other sense they used.

  “Someone’s here” said Phillip and his tone of voice indicated he wasn’t enthused about entertaining.

  “Where?” I asked and was instantly shushed.

  “Mistresses, disappear” George ordered and to my utter amazement they did. They were sitting there one moment and then, poof, two empty seats except for the clothes they’d been wearing only moments before.

  “What the…?” I said as turned around to ask the two Werewolves what was going on but saw nothing. No one was there. Alright, at this time I’ve got to admit I was questioning my sanity. I think I can grasp how a person’s mind can snap and they begin seeing things which aren’t there and I began thinking maybe it was happening to me. I was hallucinating in an insane asylum somewhere and one day I’d wake up and spend the rest of my life trying to convince others it was just an isolated little incident and would they please let me out of the pink, padded room; but then they entered.

  Okay, ‘entered’ isn’t exactly the best way to describe it; more like appeared suddenly and frightened me to death. There were three enormous men standing in front of me, staring intently and sniffing the air.

  “Where are they?” one of the goliaths said.

  “Who?” I squeaked.

  I was hauled up by the front of my shirt and found myself staring directly into a pair of the meanest looking eyes I’ve ever, well, laid eyes upon.

  “The LeTorque” he said.

  “LeTorque?” I asked.

  “He doesn’t know anything” one of the other behemoths said and it was then I found myself again believing in the power of extra sensory perception because I knew after the other man uttered those words the Sasquatch holding me by the front of my shirt was going to kill me. Then the lights went out.

  I felt something splatter on my face, was let go abruptly and as I was preparing myself to hit the floor in what was sure to be an inglorious landing I heard George’s voice say in the darkness…

  “Don’t move!”

  The ground hurt. I may have gotten new super blood from my step family but it apparently doesn’t do anything to a person’s pain perception and mine is right there at the top with the best of them. I am not exaggerating this. I remember one time going to the dentist for a cleaning and needing about ten times the amount of pain killers they only prescribed because I begged and pleaded like some depraved skid-row junkie. I think the whole idea of pain management needs to be re-evaluated starting with the name. ‘Pain Management’ is an archaic term, let’s go with ‘Complete Pain Removal’ instead. We’re an advanced society so let’s act like one and toss the whole notion there’s any good to come from feeling pain after the age of, oh, let’s say eighteen. If you can shoot a rifle for your country you shouldn’t worry about suffering for hours in the comforts of your home because some nurse or doctor still abides by the ancient idea a little pain is good for the soul. Do you know why they said those things?

  NO?

  Because they couldn’t cure your pain. They were hiding their ignorance. You know what?

  WHAT?

  They aren’t ignorant anymore. They’ve got a whole boatload of medicines designed for the sole purpose of completely eliminating pain altogether. Now, if you’re worried people might become addicted I’ll grant you, it’s possible, but they aren’t going around breaking their arms or cracking their teeth in order to score some pills so unless you’re a doctor and get hit up for extra opiates you’ve really got no skins in the game. You hearing me, pain-pill protesters?

  WHO ARE YOU TALKING TO?

  Sorry. Apparently I’ve got a little problem with the pain-pill people, so anyway…

  The lights came on and I found myself lying on the floor, in pain, and I glanced over to see the same mean eyes I’d been staring into only moments before, except this time they didn’t quite look the same. Upon further review I found the reason why; the head the eyes rested in no longer resided on the neck it was previously attached to.

  “Holy…!” I shouted.

  “Easy, Johnny” I heard George say.

  “Easy!” I yelled while simultaneously getting to my feet and orienting myself in the direction George’s voice was coming but paused before I actually saw him because in front of me was another head also unattached to a body.

  “Holy…!”

  Okay, I know I use the word ‘holy’ a lot and I’m really trying hard to cut down on its usage but there are times, such as when one finds oneself confronted with severed heads, the word seems to fit the situation.

  IT REALLY IS A GOOD WORD.

  I think so to. So when I finally got my bearings I looked around and found myself wondering if this possible result ever entered the mind of the man standing between Phillip and George who were wielding scimitars. He seemed completely stunned at what had transpired and I guess I could sympathize but I was quickly coming to the realization every decision in the world of Vampires and Werewolves was the life and death kind.

  “Hello Sebastian” purred Vivian’s voice from behind the man and I quickly glanced to see if she had re-clothed. Why is the female form so seductive even when confronted with the image of two ghastly deaths I retained the innate hope of a free peep-show?

  BECAUSE YOU’RE A PERVERT.

  Alas, it wasn’t to be and my other hope was dashed when I noticed Trudy’s clothing had also disappeared from their resting place on her chair.

  “Mistress?” the man asked in a bewildered manner.

  “Yes, Sebastian?”

  “I cannot sense you, Mistress” he said.

  You could tell he wanted to look around and view her but it was pretty evident, even to my untrained eye, doing so would cost him his head. I’ve got to give it to the big guy, he showed real guts standing between two brutes who were, by all indications and actions, more than
happy to use him as a human piñata.

  “I’m aware you can’t, Sebastian. It’s why you were sent here to find out the truth” said Vivian.

  “The truth?”

  “Whether or not we had a Cloak, my sweet. Unfortunately for you, we do.”

  His eyes lit upon me so fast they nearly jumped out of his skull.

  “Not true, Mistress! I swear, no one said anything about a Cloak.”

  “Yes, I know, my dear, would you have attempted it if they had?”

  I saw it in his eyes; the realization he’d been duped into doing something and, something else, the decision to try the impossible. Unfortunately for him so did George and Phillip.

  The hamstrings are a group of muscles located on the back side of the upper legs and are partly responsible for locomotion. All muscles contract, it’s all they can do, they can’t move sideways or circular and they can’t do anything when cut. George and Phillip severed the man’s hamstrings so fast I didn’t actually see the event, I only viewed him dropping like a bag of rocks onto the hard floor. You would think it would’ve been enough but I guess in Superior world things need a little more reinforcement; slicing the man’s biceps to the bone apparently was it.

  “Trudy?” Phillip called out.

  “Right here” she responded while coming from the back of the nightclub bearing what looked like a bunch of medieval leggings and irons and stuff. After they trussed the poor guy up I realized that’s exactly what they were.

  “Guys?” I asked.

  “Yes, Johnny?” Trudy replied.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Getting ready to question him” she answered sadly.

  “What do you need the chains for? You just cut the man’s…”

  The guy was moving both his arms and his legs! Two minutes before he’d been lying on the floor writhing in agony because all four of his appendages had been rendered useless by the two scimitar wielding Werewolves. Now he was kicking out and trying to break the bonds on his upper arms through sheer brute strength. I was further astonished for it looked as though he might’ve been able to accomplish the task if given the time; but it was not to be the case.

  The walk-in cooler is a staple of any modern restaurant because of its sheer size. It’s basically a refrigerator on steroids and can hold anything from pre-made pastas, vegetables, meats and, if the occasion warrants, one large Werewolf shackled to a chair near the vanilla ice cream.

  “Mistress, please” he said to Trudy and I saw the sadness in her eyes disappear.

  “What Sebastian? Would you beg for your life now?” she cooed, but not in the good, dove-cooing way. This was a contemptible coo and it left me rethinking my first impression of the starry-eyed secretary.

  “Please, Mistress” he pleaded.

  The response was not what I expected from such an adorable creature because adorable creatures don’t grab hold of a defenseless man’s ear with a pair of pliers and rip it off. It was then I decided to take my leave of the giant ice box and seek the warmth of the kitchen proper. It seemed Trudy had everything under control and didn’t need my presence for protection; also, Phillip was standing next to her with his bloody scimitar and a wolfish leer on his face.

  “Hello, Sweetie” said Vivian leaning against the kitchen cutting table.

  “Hello, Vivian” I responded.

  “You did well in there” she said.

  “Did well? I didn’t do anything.”

  “You didn’t run.”

  “Because the man was holding me five feet above the ground. Believe me, if I could’ve run, I would’ve run.”

  “Please stop, Mistress!” I heard from the cooler.

  “Well, you did good anyway. We might just be able to get out of this little scenario with our family intact.”

  “Okay, what’s going on here?”

  “We’re being tested. Another family has decided to take what was once ours and make it theirs. First, they found out how to get to Peter. Then they found you which allowed them to get Melissa inside our defenses and kill Peter. Then they took over our offices. And finally, they probably let word get out we were one Werewolf short and had a Vampire hibernating during pregnancy.”

  “Oh, is that all?”

  “Please, stop” came a voice from the cooler but it wasn’t as loud this time.

  “Yes, that’s all.”

  “I was being facetious, Vivian.”

  “So was I, Johnny.”

  “Oh, well, very good job then. So, what’s going to happen next?”

  “We’re going on the offensive.”

  “Offensive?”

  “Yes, it means we’re going to stop acting defensive and try to be more proactive.”

  I knew what ‘going on the offensive’ meant but I didn’t correct her misinterpretation of my ignorance because I felt it wasn’t necessary at the time; also, the whimpering coming from the walk-in cooler was a tad bit distracting.

  “How are you going on the offensive?” I asked the stunning blonde Vampire.

  “We’ve already begun. After Trudy finds out what Sebastian knows we’ll have a better chance of learning which family is attacking us.”

  “But don’t you already have an idea? I mean, you know it was Melissa who killed Peter so wouldn’t it be her family who’s responsible?”

  “We know her name as Melissa only because you told us, we don’t have any idea which Vampire it actually was.”

  “Huh?”

  “We can change our appearance, Johnny.”

  “Really?” I asked and I’ve got to admit I was waiting with baited breath for her to do so right there in front of me.

  “Yes” she replied.

  “How?” I asked.

  “Plastic surgery.”

  “Oh.” Nowhere near as cool as what I imagined.

  It was then the cooler door opened and Trudy and Phillip emerged looking blood spattered and, I have to say, a little exhilarated; nothing like a little torture to get the juices going. I glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall and noticed the time to be eight-fifteen in the morning which was exactly twenty-four hours since I’d last awoken from my bed.

  “That was fun” said Phillip and I shuddered because he genuinely looked as though he was telling the truth.

  “Did you learn anything?” asked Vivian.

  “In a round-about way, yes. Sebastian and his cohorts were informed to keep an eye on our office and if they saw anything suspicious they were to assume we were vulnerable” replied Trudy.

  “Something suspicious?” inquired George who’d just entered from the nightclub’s bar area after cleaning up the blood from two beheadings and one maiming.

  “Yes, something suspicious, like a helicopter swooping in and flying away without landing.”

  “I guess that would be a little suspicious looking” George murmured.

  “But how did they know to come here?” asked Vivian.

  “He said everyone knew about this place” said Trudy.

  “What? How?” asked George.

  “Well” said Trudy glancing at Phillip “ we didn’t actually get the answer before…”

  “I cut his head off” said Phillip.

  “You what?” asked George.

  “I cut his head off. Somehow he managed to loosen his chains and I thought I saw him make a lunge at Trudy so…” he said with a shrug of his shoulders.

  “Oh, Phillip” said Vivian with a sigh.

  “I’m sorry Mistress. Sometimes I act a little impulsively. Trudy and I’ve been working on it but…”

  “Hold on, I think I might have our answer” said George as he ran out of the kitchen leaving the four of us standing there looking at each other until we shrugged and followed him out.

  “I knew it!” he exclaimed from behind the main bar where he was bending down and perusing something.

  “Knew what?” asked Vivian.

  “I knew he was cheating! The dirty low-down… cheater!” George never w
as any good at hyperbole.

  “Knew who was cheating?” said Trudy.

  “Peter.”

  “How do you know he was cheating?” I asked because I was feeling left out of the conversation.

  “Twelve bottles of Bloody Mary mix” he said.

  “Huh?”

  “Twelve bottles of Bloody Mary mix” he repeated and once again I decided not to inform the merry gang of blood-thirsty torturers my ‘Huh?’ wasn’t one of not hearing the response but a reaction to a statement which might need a little more refining.

  “How does Bloody Mary mix prove he was cheating?” I asked instead.

  “Johnny, why do you think we call this place Bloody Mary’s?” George asked.

  “Um, I thought it had something to do with the Vampire thing; you know, a play on words and all.”

  “I guess it had a little to do with it but the main reason’s because it was Peter’s idea in the first place. He thought it would be a nice side investment with liquor being a pretty stable commodity and he loved a good Bloody Mary so we went along with his little scheme because it did sound like a good idea.”

  “So?”

  “So, what’s the purpose in having a bar?”

  “To sell drinks.”

  “Exactly. And why do bars give away peanuts and pretzels?”

  “Okay, I’m not sure where you’re going with this but I’ll play along. I think it’s because they’re salty and make people drink more.”

  “Right again. Bars want people to drink more so they can make more money. It’s capitalism at its best; supply and demand. But there are some drinks we want to sell more than others; do you know what they are?”

  “I have no idea, George.”

  “Straight liquor, Johnny. It’s got the highest profit margin of anything we sell.”

  “Okay.”

  “Do you know what we don’t want to sell?”

  “Crooked liquor?”

  “No, good answer though. What we don’t want to sell are mixed drinks with lots of fillers in them. Do you know why?”

  “You know I don’t.”

  “We don’t like to sell them because the fillers coat the customer’s stomachs which makes them feel fuller which makes them skip our little salty snacks which cuts into our bottom line because they don’t drink as much; got me?”

  “I think so.”

  “Good. So why would we have so many bottles of Bloody Mary mix? It’s got the one thing we don’t want in a drink; tomato juice which coats the stomach.”

  “Maybe because you called the place Bloody Mary’s?”

  “We’re not catering to the Bloody Mary crowd. I don’t think there even is a Bloody Mary crowd. When’s the last time you had one?”

  “What, a Bloody Mary?”

  “Yes, when’s the last time you had one?”

  “I don’t know, college maybe?”

  “Exactly. No one drinks this stuff anymore except as some weird hangover concoction or something. No, the only reason we’ve got so much of this profit-sucking swill is because someone really likes their Bloody Marys’. It doesn’t make even the slightest bit of economic sense to keep so much of this stuff anyway. Do you know what would happen if everyone started drinking Bloody Marys? We’d go broke! Heck, we’d have noticed a huge profit loss if our clientele were drinking this much because they wouldn’t be drinking the other stuff. No, we’ve got one customer who can come in here and drink so much we’d stock twelve bottles of mix in a cooler with limited capacity and stocked according to usage. Can you think of any species with the appetite and nutritional absorption ability to get our bartenders to stock twelve bottles of money losing tomato juice into a limited capacity refrigerator?” he asked.

  “Okay, I’m guessing you want me to say a Werewolf” I replied.

  “Exactly! A Werewolf with a sweet-tooth for Bloody Marys. A Werewolf with enough clout to get our bartenders to overlook the bottom line and stock their cooler with this unsweetened catsup syrup. A Werewolf with the knowledge he wouldn’t be missed by the other half because she’s otherwise preoccupied.”

  “Excuse me, you lost me there.”

  “Stephanie, Johnny, she’s in hibernation having Peter’s child.”

  “Oh, sorry, I forgot.”

  “It’s okay, it’s a lot of information to take in” George said.

  “Hey George?”

  “Yes?”

  “Can you explain again why you think he was having an affair?”

  “Why do you go to bars, Johnny?”

  “Oh.”