WnW 3.19

“Don’t try to act clueless in front of your friends,” I spat.

My head swam from the blow and it was difficult to focus on just one person: Alek looking bemused, a man who had pulled aside his jacket to reveal a gun tucked into his waistband, another with a wide frame and a square face who examined me curiously through his glasses. Most of the men had hardened looks on their faces, ready for trouble, hands creeping towards waists and pockets.

“He’s blackmailing me,” I said, trying to appeal to their humanity. The stocky man took off his glasses and looked at Alek.

Alek tilted his head as a mix of annoyance and curiosity grew on his face. He somehow managed to look relaxed, despite our chase through Old Town. He made a gesture to the one restraining me and cold metal was pressed forcefully against the back of my head.

“I blackmail a lot of people,” Alek stated, unbothered. “Maybe you’re right, maybe not. What are you going to do suka? What’s the next step of the plan? To me this seems so fucking suicidal that I’m inclined to believe that you weren’t sent by one of the other Rings. So show me. I’m going to count to five. If I find by then that you’ve wasted my time, well,” his mouth grew into a cruel smile. “I wouldn’t want to be you.”

The back of my head where the gun metal touched was the coldest part of me. 

“One.”

Everything from my fingers to my toes felt suffocatingly hot. I was having trouble breathing. Alek’s voice was drowned out by the crackling fire in my head.

I heard blood pumping and bones creak, but it wasn’t my blood, not my bones. Tendons tightened like bowstrings across knuckles, holding my arm against my back. The hunger had found something. The fire curled over my shoulders and back, then up to the arm that was being restrained. There, it began to feed. I was filled with intense satisfaction, like finding water after days of searching. My mind grew a little less muddy with every second.

Alek started visibly, shouting, “Spike! Your arm!”

My arm was released and the gun was lifted off my head as I heard a stifled cry of surprise. The man had stumbled backward, clutching his hand. It was red and slowly dripped with blood. The skin had been stripped from his fourth and fifth fingers, leaving only glistening muscle and at the tip of his pinky I glimpsed yellowed bone.

“A Wolf? Here?” The spectacled man said incredulously.

Alek looked shocked. His eyes darted about, as if trying to see everything at once. Then he lunged for me with incredible speed. He was careful not to touch my exposed skin as he seized my shirt. “Who do you work for?” he demanded.

“Stop fucking acting,” I said through gritted teeth. “You’ve had someone spying on me since I came to your apartment.” His suit jacket wasn’t dirty or torn. He must have swapped clothes in an attempt to lose us.

His mouth opened and then closed as he considered my words. One of the other men went over to Spike to help tend to his wound.

“Stop,” Nell said.

All heads turned to her as she stepped quickly away from the barricade. Compound eyes silently watched her from the other side.

“Christ, this just keeps getting better,” Alek muttered.

Nell faced the men down with a fierce expression even though I could feel her fear creeping up around my throat.

“Let him go, Alek,” Nell said coldly.

The stocky man with glasses stepped between Nell and Alek, raising his hands. “Alek, clearly these people have some dispute with you. Do we need to bring this to the boss?”

Alek shook his head, eyeing Nell warily. “Do what you want, Graham, but I’m not going.”

Graham frowned. “Are you sure? The Boss hasn’t been happy that you’ve been avoiding him. This certainly isn’t helping your case.”

Alek turned to Spike, who aptly had dozens of spiky piercings all over his face. “He has questions I can’t answer,” Alek said. “It’s better this way. I’ll go take Spike to the doctor. C’mon.” He lifted Spike to his feet and they walked away, Spike flashing a hate-filled look at me over his shoulder.

“Seriously?” One of the other men muttered. “He’s leaving us with a Wolf?”

“It’s fine,” Graham assured. “I can handle it. Besides,” he looked at me studiously. “You look like a reasonable person. We can talk this out.” Graham had a deep voice and he spoke slowly and deliberately. His short black hair and beard were trimmed short and he had an air of solidness to him. It was something about the way he stood with his wide shoulders set.

“We might not have time,” Nell said nervously, looking back at the barricade.

A shadow slipped from the darkness and skittered off to one side, vanishing behind a dumpster. 

The men shouted in alarm, pulling out pistols and knives.

“Easy! Easy,” Graham warned, glancing back down the street which was currently devoid of people.

I felt a chill as I realized that it wasn’t one of the Arachknights I recognized. This one looked like it was only made of long, thin limbs. An antennae creeped around the side of the dumpster, waving slowly in the air. A scout?

“Who is your boss?” Nell asked.

Graham looked reluctant to respond. I examined the hands of the men, finding more than a few who had tattoos around a finger or two, looking like rings of snakes or thorns.

“It’s Sullivan, isn’t it?” I asked.

Graham looked at me with concern. “However you got involved with Alek, I can promise you it isn’t worth getting tangled up with the Rings.”

I exchanged a look with Nell. “Our hand has been forced. Don’t let those things get close.”

Graham nodded and then beckoned for us to follow him.

The armed men were watching the shadows closely, sometimes pointing it out when they spotted one of the spindly creatures stalking us. Occasionally they would shout in alarm as an Arachknight jerkily emerged from the shadows only to retreat again.

While the men were certainly fearful of the monsters, they didn’t seem like this was the first time they had been shown such a thing. No one was breaking down or questioning their reality.

“Have you run into creatures like this before?” I asked Graham.

His expression softened as he spoke, “Regrettably. Sillwood’s residents don’t deserve this.”

“You’re awfully nice for a gangster,” Nell said glibly.

Graham chuckled. “Is that what I am? I guess it is.” Then his expression grew more serious. “Are you sure you want to meet the Boss? There’s no turning back once you do.” 

He paused and as the men around us were distracted by a spiny limb, he spoke in low tones, “if you want to run, I won’t try to stop you. I have no quarrel with those who aren’t in the Rings and I can’t guarantee the Boss will treat you kindly. I’ll turn a blind eye and say you got away with some Wolf Shaping.”

I hadn’t been expecting this level of kindness, but after considering it, I shook my head. Organ’s agents would continue to stalk us. They were communicating and they were smart enough to wait until we were alone. I imagined Nell going off to sleep at Kay’s house, only to be ambushed by the chittering fiends. We needed protection.

As we crossed a road and went down the alleyway next to a brilliantly lit casino that had red coins raining down in neon light, I had a dark thought: It should have been Mac protecting us.

I clenched my fists, trying to ignore the rising waves of hunger that clouded my thoughts. Nell responded to Graham, “Our choice was taken from us already.”

Graham nodded seriously. Then he turned to a short set of stairs embedded into the building that served as one wall of the alley. He descended the stairs and rapped his knuckles on the door at the bottom. It was an unassuming door, grey with silver streaks across it where the paint had been scratched off. I was expecting a special rhythm to the knock, a secret code, but Graham only knocked sharply twice.

A man with a shaved head opened the door. This was what I expected the Rings to look like. Heavily tattooed and holding a machete. He nodded to Graham and let us in.

The hallway inside was grungy and dimly lit. It was clear that no one was cleaning this hallway by the black mold that grew in the corners. A single outdated lightbulb hung from the ceiling on a wire. Graham moved down the hall and I followed. At the end was a metal door. It looked to be made of some heavy dark metal, not aluminum like the door in the alley. 

Graham pressed his hand against it and looked at me. He held some regret in his eyes, like he believed we had made the wrong choice. I could faintly feel Nell’s fear driving against my mind, but I couldn’t feel what she was feeling. Hunger seemed to block it all out. I was barely clinging to rational thought, I didn’t have the luxury of feeling anything. Then Graham pushed open the door.

The smell of cooking flooded my nose. I was immediately hit with a surge of hunger that made it hard to stand up straight, let alone walk into the room. The fire, the urge to consume was pressing against my skin. Graham led us in and then stood to one side of the opened door.

The room was low-lit, like a classy restaurant. The light emanated from several chandeliers which looked strangely out of place on such a low ceiling. The walls were painted dark red. An ornate wooden chair back faced me and a shaggy head poked over the back. Just beyond the sitting figure was a man in a grey suit.

It was hard to explain why, but everything in the room felt like it was leaning into him, like he was an epicenter of quicksand, slowly but surely dragging everything towards himself. He stared at the seated person thoughtfully, as if judging their worth. I could only assume this was Sullivan. The chandeliers hung over our heads like guillotine blades ready to fall.

“You will be dealt with in turn,” Sullivan said, his eyes only briefly flicking over to us. “If you wish to be dealt with now, then speak. I will be sure to make it swift and deadly. I pride myself in efficiency after all.”