Her Perilous Wolf by Julie Steimle (best e book reader TXT) 📕

Vincent leaned back. “Vicky doesn’t know about—”

“Neither does Kim,” Steward said, nodding. “I know. Neither statement was connected. I just meant… uh… that my wife thought—”

Vincent nodded. “A Bruchenhaus-Deacon union would be good.”

“Exactly.” Stewart grinned with pain. Yet then he shrugged, “But also… she liked how they argued. She wouldn’t shut up about it.”

Pulling back, Vincent was confused.

“Like an old married couple,” Stewart explained with the same painful smirk. He then headed to the door, gesturing they ought to leave before their meeting was discovered. Before they went out the door, Stewart said, “Whatever you do, don’t get involved with the SRA. I’m sure you’ve heard what kind of people they are.”

Nodding, Vincent whispered, “Yeah. Audry had a few choice words about them. So did Rick and a few of his friends.”

Stewart nodded. As they walked into the hall, he said, “They used me as bait, Vincent. They were trying to force him to bite me. They had trapped us in a gym together and made sure I smelled like roasted chicken.”

“What?” Vincent tried to picture how they did that.

Shaking his head, Stewart halted as he pinched the ridge of his nose. “Look. Long story. And I got it all backward. Um, werewolves have to make a kill on the full moon—three nights in succession. Rick was trying to hunt away from people. When they are stuck in a city on the full moon, the Deacons rent out gyms and let loose chickens or rabbits for them to kill. Kind of gross, but it is significantly better than… you know, biting people.”

Eyes widening, Vincent stared. This, he had not known.

“Point is, Rick, even on the full moon when I’m smelling like his favorite food—roast chicken—refused to bite me.” Stewart shook his head. “It was like watching an addict fight his craving for the drug he so badly wanted. And he didn’t even want my blood. He wanted a chicken.”

Damn. Vincent’s mind went back to the beach. Rick has said it was better he show them then than have it come out a bad time. He really did not want to hurt anybody.

He nodded.

“If you and I ever meet again,” Stewart said, “or if anyone asks what we talked about, say it was about a frat reunion. One’s gotta come up sooner or later.”

Vincent nodded.

They went their separate ways. Vincent left the hotel. Stewart remained, probably meeting someone else there for some other kind of business.

Vincent took a long walk to think about what he had received in that laundry-room exchange. He had gleaned a number of important facts: The SRA were definitely not to be trusted. Rick was most definitely a werewolf. And Rick’s advice for them to stay away from him and not delve into supernatural things was the wise move.

But Vincent’s mind was stuffed with more questions now.

First. Was Stewart hiding from the SRA just then? For some reason, Vincent was sure he wasn’t hiding from Rick or anyone in his influence. In fact, one thing Stewart said before they parted was that if he (Vincent) or his cousin (Audry) ever got into trouble with the SRA, he should contact Matthew Calamori. Matthew was normal, Stewart declared with sureness—mostly normal, that is. Matthew was human at least, and a cop. But Vincent already knew that detail. He was just surprised that Stewart would recommend him considering Matthew’s connection to Rick Deacon.

This second question was about Gulinger Private Academy itself. Though he had heard from Rick what kind of school it was, and also from Audry, he was not so sure either had told him the entire truth about the establishment. Vincent decided to go back to the internet to research that next.

That search, unfortunately, turned out to be less fruitful.

Gulinger Private Academy had a website, but he was unable to get through the screening process. He tried a few times. For starters, it asked for names of who referred him to the site. Vincent decided on a bit of honesty and typed in that Rick Deacon had referred him. The computer blanked up then posted a response which startled him.

Nice try Vincent Williams. But Access Denied. You do not qualify.

And it would not let him try again. Whoever created the site was a genius. So Vincent went back to all the other hearsay sources on the net, which were, unfortunately, not so reliable. The SRA had their own commentary about Gulinger Private Academy. He read it with disgust.

GPA (Gulinger Private Academy) was established by Lemuel Gulinger and Howard Richard Deacon I to subvert any efforts to cleanse the world of dangerous supernatural beings, by corroborating with government officials—the first enrolled student being Howard Richard Deacon II. Over the course of their history, the school best known as ‘Gulinger High’, has housed werewolves, cambion, and half-bloods, alongside witch spawn and cursed victims. Only recently with the creation of West End Prep has the agencies within the government been able to extract the more useful and trainable persons toward government service.

Vincent stared at that. He had never heard of West End Prep. And what had Audry said about Gulinger Private Academy? They also housed kids hiding from the Mafia, possibly? People like Matthew.

His mind drifted more to Matthew Calamori. Why not research him and Tom Brown? Both were in government work in some form. Surely they had records.

He went into Tom first… and found nothing. Vincent had been sure to at least find a juvy record. He had heard Tom had one. But then Vincent remembered that Tom was CIA. Tom’s record had probably been expunged. So he searched for Matthew’s record next.

Matthew had a short detective bio at the precinct, but nothing much. Yet, as Vincent was about to close the web search, a thought occurred to him. Vincent typed in Deacon Calamori connection into Google search. A peculiar site popped up as the first choice in the list. It was a conspiracy website called Mysteries of the Deacon Family. And under a subheading was the section called Mysterious Deaths. Vincent’s eyes widened on it. It detailed the numerous people connected to the Deacon family who had mysteriously died or were killed. It was almost as long as the Clinton Body Count, and a mite less creepy. Deacon family members were included in this count.

He read name after name, starting with Richard Howard Gannon, a catholic deacon from Worchester, Massachusetts.

“Cora Esplin Deacon… Agent Victor Gugola… Howard Richard Deacon I… Marco Calamori.” Vincent halted on that one. He read it out loud.

Marco Calamori, a business associate to Mr. Deacon the Second, disappeared during a summer over ten years ago. His death would have remained a mystery, but a year later his body was found in an old abandoned well by the FBI—his location given away during a court session involving his brother-in-law who was connected to the Mafia. According the courtroom minutes, Mr. Calamori’s son was in attendance, and in the middle of the brother-in-law’s testimony the boy jumped up and shouted that his uncle was lying about the death of another man his uncle was testifying about, revealing that both that man and his father had been dumped in a particular well by his uncle. The son was later taken into protective custody by Mr. Deacon and is presumed to be living under witness protection.

That had to be Matthew’s father, and the boy had to be Matthew, though he had not been named. Audry had said Matthew’s family had been connected to the Italian mob, or at least that was what she had thought he had said. Matthew had that sort of Italian look, at least. He just didn’t sound like the typical Italian stereotype when he spoke. For that matter, it was surprising the mob wasn’t going after him now. Vincent looked at the date on the site. It was a few years old and had not been updated.

Vincent returned back to the SRA site to see if they had anything on Matthew, but all they had on him was that Matthew was a collaborator with the Deacon family. Vincent did, however notice something printed about Troy, and for that matter, Silvia.

Silvia’s entry made him stare. There was a picture even, one of her looking like the hairdresser he had met way back then. She was listed under the subheading of ‘Known Witches’.

Silvia Lewis Spade—Shadowing. Under protection from H7. Claimed to be leaving Coven Inc., Middleton Village, Massachusetts. In NYC, exact location unknown. Married to Randon Spade—a black cat familiar—and Troy Meecham’s best friend—Gulinger Alumnus.

‘Under protection of H7?’ That was the second time he had seen the code H7. What was that again? And he also stared at the phrase ‘black cat familiar’. What was that? What did it mean?

He found Troy’s blurb under the heading ‘Vampire Watch’.

Troy Devlin Meecham—confirmed; forced conversion by Order of Blood. Day walker. Not imbibing. Under protection by H7, Deacon Enterprises, & NYPD. Has cursed attendant/bodyguard. Do not approach unless imperative. *POSITIVE NOTE* He is currently researching a cure for the bite and is close to a breakthrough.

Vincent shuddered. Troy, that guy who had helped carry Vicky back to the cabin had definitely been a vampire. Rick had said so, but it really had not sunk into his own brain until now. However it explained why Troy wore a long-sleeve shirt and had sat in the shade that summer day. It also explained his night vision. Vincent took a screenshot of the blurb. He also jotted notes of key words and phrases, like: Order of Blood and Day Walker. He didn’t know what they meant, but they creeped him out. Rick had called Troy a ‘daytime vampire’ and had explained Troy’s condition. Troy wasn’t evil. He was just cursed—like everyone else from Gulinger Private Academy.

One thing did become perfectly clear, he had to make sure Doug never met Troy in person. Not just because Troy was a vampire, but because he could also see a list of ‘Vampire Conspirators’ next to the list… and Randon Spade’s name was there, alongside the name Dr. William McAllister—which seemed familiar to him somehow. If Doug ever ended up on that list, heaven help him. Stewart had made one thing clear, the SRA were not the kind of folk who forgave ‘conspirators’.

*

Juma was thrilled to get Audry’s email. Ecstatic, really. He wrote her back immediately that he’d start the paperwork on his end to send for her to come to Tanzania, but also Kenya. They did not want just a tourist visa as her work was nothing of the sort. She knew she had to get e-visas for the initial entry, which would hardly take any time at all, but it would require money of which she was thin on. Everything required money.

In his email, he told her about what they had planned. First off, cheetah poaching was up, and so was rhino poaching, as well as elephant. They had plenty of people hunting down poachers—most shooting the poachers dead, but their team wanted to rescue animals as well as catch poachers. And since they thought her marksmanship was too good to go to waste—never mind that she used tranquilizer guns—they wanted her with them in particular. Most especially, he expressed that they had plans to go into Kenya to work with another group as they may have tracked down a particularly nasty group of poachers who were shipping their cache out from there. Juma said their goal was to end a black market conglomerate once and for all.

…I will bring the dogs. Mixie, Brutus, and Darth will be happy to see you again.

Audry laughed when she read that. All three dogs were Belgian Malinois—a dog like a German shepherd only a little smaller and shorter haired with tons of energy. Darth was her favorite. His dark face coloring almost made him look like he was wearing Darth Vader’s helmet.

Audry spent the following three days packing while getting all her legal documents prepared.