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

He returned to the scene of the crime. And as a human he developed a conscience.”

Audry would probably debate whether it was true if animals did not have consciences. Vincent felt a little indignant on her behalf.

“And a priest there, Lemuel Gulinger, helped him on the path to redemption.” Michael shrugged.

“Gulinger?”

Nodding, Michael smiled. “I thought you’d catch that. Yeah. Gulinger. The priest helped the wolf become Mr. Deacon the First. He got an identity, worked hard, created a business, then he built a fortune.”

“A priest?” Vincent was skeptical this was an honest priest.

“Of course,” Michael said. “And though I never got around to asking Mr. Jones, I suspect Reverend Gulinger had connection with the previous generations’ Holy Seven. He had taken the wolf man’s problems in stride. He even helped him find a wife.”

“Was that so wise?” Vincent muttered, the complications to that were very predictable. It was the stuff of horror movie plots.

Michael shrugged. “I couldn’t say. I’m not a werewolf.”

Vincent shot him a side look.

 “The Deacons are, shockingly, benevolent werewolves,” Michael added. “They do exist.”

“I suppose,” Vincent muttered. “I’ve only met the one. But you said he protected packs from you.”

 That rankled Michael a little. “Yes. And I think he still will, even after what three of them have done to him.”

“Done to him?”

“Of course,” Michael snapped. “The only reason we know about these three is because they attacked him—though in different ways. Remember the one that tried to keep and brainwash him? That’s one of them. Wolverton.”

Pointing, Vincent nodded. “I saw that one on the website. It was listed as a black hole but you don’t know the location.”

“It’s nomadic,” Michael said, shrugging. “Howie met them in Alabama, though.”

A shiver went through Vincent.

“The other two are abroad.” Michael shook his head. “One was in Cochem, Germany—and they tried to kill him and his three friends.”

Vincent remembered the story about the wolf attack in Germany. It had been a werewolf pack that had done it?

“The other is in Paris, France.” Michael huffed.

A shiver went up Vincent’s spine. The first place Audry had met Rick was Paris. And he had been running from something there, she had said. Could it have been other werewolves?

“Why did they attack him?” Vincent asked, trying to fight off those shivers.

Shaking his head, Michael sighed. “Different reasons, each one of them. But Germany… I was there for that.”

Vincent stared. “You—”

“I was part of the rescue team. I was in France on business, not far away. I flew the helicopter that that got them out—that is, Howie’s friends.”

Pulling back, Vincent drew in a breath. “You can fly a helicopter?”

Nodding, Michael did not seem all that proud about it. It was just matter-of-fact. “Sure. Why not? If I am supposed to work as a warrior for God, I should have the skills to do it myself. I shouldn’t have to have a chauffeur. I started training for it as soon as I could. I mean, we own several.”

“Can you fly a jet?” Vincent asked, feeling like he was staring at a real-life superhero.

Michael nodded. “Yeah. It is easier than a helicopter.”

Amazing. It was just amazing.

“Now, the difference between the SRA and the Holy Seven is that the Holy Seven recognizes the right to life for all living beings.” Michael shook his head. “The SRA see those that are ‘other’ as monsters.”

“I can imagine why,” Vincent muttered. It was all overwhelming.

Michael shot him a dry look.

“So what makes a monster?” Vincent asked, realizing he had said the wrong thing.

“That is the right question,” Michael said, and rose from his seat. “I think we can help you best by helping you figure that out. But yes, there are monsters. And some of them are supernatural.”

Vincent was immediately confused.

“Let me say this,” Michael explained, glancing around for the snake. Tommy’s clothes and belongings were still in the other booth. “God’s plan is one of redemption. And all creatures with a body can be redeemed.”

“All creatures with a body?” Vincent said that out loud. “There are creatures without a body? You mean like ghosts?”

Sighing, Michael shook his head. “Ghosts are a different ball of wax. Not our jurisdiction. However… there are ghost whispers. You might have met one already if you know Matthew Calamori and Jessica Mason—uh, Cartwright. They have a co-worker in the NYPD who is one. But what I meant was, there are evil spirits out there which do nothing but ill. Some people in religious circles call them demons. But there are embodied demons out there. And despite the side they are on in the war between good and evil, even they are redeemable.”

“Demons? Like red devils and stuff?” Vincent shuddered, watching Michael shrug. “Wait, you were arguing about a demon with that guy when you came out of the building.”

“Yeah.” Michael nodded to that. “About Eve. Eve McAllister. She’s a vimp.”

“Woah!” Two things in that sentence smacked Vincent hard—never mind that he had no clue what a vimp was. “You mean that girl who was the other bridesmaid at that wedding Audry missed was a demon? Audry would have been a bridesmaid at wedding with a demon?”

Michael nodded, but he was smirking. “Yeah. But Eve is an angel—I mean, now she literally is, but also her personality. She is a sweetheart. I met her way back when I was in high school. I mean, yeah, she was born to kill me, created for that job, but she saved my life instead.”

“Born to kill you?” Vincent stared at him.

Nodding, Michael smiled. “Eve McAllister is a demon who rejected her nature and became one of the best friends of the very people she was born to kill. She’s also Howie’s good friend. Howie majorly crushed on her before he met, uh—” He then colored. “Ah, it doesn’t matter.”

“You mean my cousin,” Vincent said, his face feeling hotter. “Don’t you? Audry.”

Cringing, Michael nodded while averting his eyes. “Yeah. You could say that.”

Vincent closed his eyes. This was not good.

“Look,” Michael got in close, “Howie is not going to make any moves on your cousin. He likes her too much.”

“What?” Vincent stared at him. None of that made sense. If a guy liked a girl, he pursued her.

“He believes that he is cursed. He’ll keep his distance.” Yet Michael sighed as though he thought it was a silly idea. “But anyway, Eve is currently on a path of redemption. She is now a destroying angel.”

“A what? I’m confused.” Vincent pulled away.

Michael laughed, taking a step back himself. “That’s ok. Just let it suffice, God prepares a way for all good souls to return to him. I’m tired. We can finish this tomorrow.”

“But a destroying angel?” Vincent shook his head, not quite done. “How is that good?”

“Oh.” Michael nodded wearily. “Sorry. They are also called angels of death—”

“No better.”

“Or grim reapers,” Michael added, peeking to the door. He still could not see the snake.

Vincent paused. There were grim reapers?

“They escort souls trapped in this world to the other side,” Michael explained. “It’s a good thing.”

“Oh.” But Vincent frowned, thinking this was way too much information. But since they had gone down that road, he had to finish it. “Why was she born to kill you?”

“It’s complicated.” Sighing with yet another cringe, Michael explained, “I cannot list all the demons and monsters that exist in this world. I cannot even list all those that are fighting for the forces of good. But to clarify this one—Eve is the last in a long line of vimps. They are unique in that only one is born every three hundred years, and they live a three hundred year lifetime. If you saw her, you’d think she was a vampire—though with orange eyes.”

Vincent drew in a breath. Tom Brown had orange eyes.

Nodding to him Michael added, “You picked it up. The orange eyes come from the imp. And Tom Brown is half imp, which is a little devil.”

Vincent’s eyes went wider.

“But anyway, all the previous vimps were the worst of monsters,” Michael explained. “They wantonly killed people for the pure pleasure of it, but also to drink their blood. The vimp was created anciently to destroy the Holy Seven—another witch assassin, but more powerful. We are actually trying to end her curse, because once Eve reaches three hundred years old, once she dies, a new one will be born—and we can’t guarantee that one will be as nice or good as Eve, if at all. We got lucky with her.”

“How did she not end up as a monster?” Vincent breathed out, realizing now what he meant by ‘monster’.

Michael shrugged. “I don’t know. A circumstance of birth? I heard her vampire father had spared her—which is unheard of. I do know that he brought her to a normal human family which raised her and loved her. Good people. Maybe it was love that saved her.”

“That other agent thought they were possessed,” Vincent murmured, though he liked the romantic notion that love had saved a demon.

“Not a chance,” Michael retorted. “If you knew the McAllisters, you’d see for yourself that they were genuinely good people. You know, true Christians. Not the kind that just go to church because of tradition. They actually practice their religion, which includes loving your enemy.”

Vincent stared at him. Was that a Christian belief? He wasn’t sure. His family only really attended church on religious holidays—guilty of being only a traditional Christian. In truth, he was never sure what was true or not, as the world he lived in pretty much mocked anything religious… well Christianity at least. It was no longer in vogue. One of the reasons his family was detached if not cynical of religion was that his father had researched the history of Christianity in college and discovered it was just as bloody as Islam. He had said that modern Christians believed in a revised history of their faith, one blotting out the historical truth because it was too ugly and did not fit their paradigm. They only reason his family had stuck with Christianity was that the teachings of Jesus were still good. The people, not so much. His father used to say that Christians believed in Christ, but did not believe Christ. 

“So you believe that demons can be saved?” Vincent sighed, feeling tired. “What does your pastor think about that?”

Michael laughed, nodding. “My pastor? Well… I attend a non-denominational church whenever I can. But I also visit churches of other faiths. I’ve noticed there is some truth in all of them—but I don’t know if any one of them is wholly true. Eve once recommended I check out the Mormons, but everyone I know says they are a cult and super weird, so I’m not so sure I should even be seen in one of their buildings.”

Vincent laughed, nodding. 

“Besides, Andrew Cartwright might have an aneurism if I did that. His grandfather is a pastor in Middleton Village, and I don’t even think the witches would tolerate a Mormon entering their town.” Michael then looked to the right, hearing a scrabbling on the tile.

Peering over also, Vincent saw a raccoon scampering towards them—with a large eagle feather sticking out his head from his fur. “How did that get in…?”

But Michael smirked.

The raccoon scrambled into Tommy’s clothes. Vincent rushed over with a start, but the moment he got there, Tommy elongated into his clothing, furry paws stretching into long human fingers and hands. Tommy shook his hair out as it grew long again, his feather dangling from his locks.

“Woah.” Vincent stepped back. The change looked so natural, and yet surreal. “That is…”

Tommy grinned. “We’re safe to go. I chased off the others.”

“How many were there?” Michael asked, his brows scrunching together in concern. Vincent noticed a red crystal slip out from his collar, dangling on a thin chain. He recalled that Daniel also wore a crystal almost exactly like that one. And it occurred to him that Audry had mentioned that Jessica had one also.

“Five,” Tommy said.

“What’s that?” Vincent pointed to the crystal.

Looking down, Michael stared then chuckled, plucking it up.