Hair, Greg - Werewolf 01 (21 page)

“Jeennnyyyy,” he said, his eyebrows rising slightly, drawing out her name.

She made a slight moan, turning her head slowly toward the sweet voice calling her name. It took a minute for her to open her eyes and focus on the stranger standing in front of her. Her mouth was too dry to speak. Lacking the strength to lift her arm, she glanced back and forth at Jamie and the counter behind him in an effort to communicate. He turned, seeing a cup and a plastic pitcher of ice chips. Scooping a few ice chips into the cup, he placed it to her lips, tipping it slightly.

“I know you don’t know who I am. My name is Jamie. I’m a friend.”

Jenny nodded to show she understood.

“I know who did this, and I want to help catch him. Is there anything you can tell me that you might have told the police regarding Jerry’s whereabouts?”

She again nodded. Her throat less dry, she spoke.

“New York,” she whispered in a light breath.

“New York City?”

Another nod.

Does Nicholas know something I don’t
, he thought. “Do you know where in New York?”

She swallowed, wincing in pain, her eyes closing tightly. After a few seconds, they opened again.

“He likes the…” She stopped to catch her breath. “…underground scene. Dark clubs.”

“You mean underground clubs, places like that?”

She nodded, this time with less energy. She began to nod off. Jamie watched her, thinking about Landon and how he was on his way to the hospital for the same information. The memory of what he did to his mother during his first transformation kept coming back. The transformation that took place because of Landon. The very thought of Landon only exacerbated his emotional instability. Bending down, he whispered a final time in Jenny’s ear.

“You did great, Jenny. Now it’s time for you to get some rest.”

The fingernails on his right hand extended. He put his claw through her left side. Her head oscillated left and right, back and forth as Jamie ripped through her open flesh, blood collecting in a pool on the floor. She let out a whispering scream that no one other than Nicholas, still in the hallway, could hear. Jamie heard Nicholas casually walk back down the hall and get on the elevator. He heard the alarm at the nurse’s station call the staff to Jenny’s room. By the time help rushed through the door, Jenny was already dead, her window open. An officer rushed to look outside and saw no one.

“Whoever it was didn’t go out this way,” Jamie, standing around the corner, and listening with his heightened hearing, heard the man say. “They wouldn’t have gotten back up after jumping from the seventh floor.”

Moments later, the teen and Nicholas met back at the black sedan.

“Thanks for teaching me the partial change on the plane,” said Jamie, placing his hand on the roof of the car, swaying back and forth.

“You don’t look well,” said Nicholas.

“I really don’t feel well.”

Suddenly, Jamie bent forward and vomited, spewing two days’ worth of food all over the pavement and the front passenger wheel.

“What was that all about?” asked Nicholas. “Ah, yes.

Your first conscious kill—and not as a werewolf. It’ll pass. Or, maybe you’re not ready for this, yet. We shall see. Where’s Jerry?”

Jamie wiped his mouth with his hand and composed himself.

“Don’t worry about me,” he said. “I’m fine. You’re not going to believe the break we just got. He’s in New York. We need to go to his house to get the scent.”

Nicholas smiled, seeing that it took only a slight nudge to get Jamie to do what he wanted.

An hour later, Landon and LillyAnna arrived at the hospital and got on the elevator.

“I’ll be quick,” he said. “She’s not going to have much energy, and she’ll be on a lot of drugs. I may not be able to get anything at all.”

“If she’s having too much of a hard time, don’t push her. We’ll find him,” said LillyAnna.

Stepping off the elevator, there was a flurry of activity, police questioning nurses, reporters questioning police. Unlike before, the two new individuals at the scene were stopped immediately.

“Can I help you?” asked a cop.

“We’re looking for Jenny McClursky,” said Landon.

“And you are?”

“A friend,” he replied.

“Well, I’m sorry to be the one tell you this, but Ms. McClursky passed a little over an hour ago.”

“Passed?” asked LillyAnna, shocked. “I thought she had been upgraded. What happened?”

“Yes, ma’am, she was upgraded to serious, but stable condition. Since that time, however, a medical situation arose. I’m afraid I can’t give you any more details at this time. Which family member did you say you were?”

“A distant one. Thank you anyway, officer,” said Landon, grabbing LillyAnna’s arm and pulling her back on to the elevator. As the doors slid closed, he smelled the air, and his eyes burned red.

“Jamie,” he said.

23

“You sure this is the one?” asked Nicholas.

“Yeah, this is it. This is the one he talked about.”

“Wait here. Stay focused on the scent from the house. We’ll track down Jerry after the next pick-up.”

Nicholas exited the car and walked to the little diner across the street. The place was busy. All of the booths were full, as were most of the seats at the counter. Waitresses whizzed by carrying trays full of food and stacked, empty dishes. The smell of grease filled the air. Unless one were a werewolf, it would be impossible to distinguish the conversations taking place amidst all the order-giving, order-repeating, and ringing bells as the cooks let the waitresses know there was an order up. Behind the counter, a middle-aged waitress with long red hair tied up in a bun watched him to see where he would sit. Nicholas took the first red stool he could find.

“Hi, hun, what can I get ya?” asked Carol, the waitress.

“Coffee. Black,” said Nicholas, smiling.

“That it?”

“Yeah, from the menu. I’m also looking for someone. An old friend, and I was told she works here.”

“Really? What’s her name?” she asked, pouring his coffee.

“Paige.”

“Oh, yeah,” she said, smiling from ear to ear. “Sweet girl. She used to work here. Quit a few years back. She went back to school; works as a paralegal now. She comes back in from time to time to visit. Says she’s thinking about trying for a law degree. She’s real smart. Real pretty, too.”

“Wow, that’s great to hear,” said Nicholas, feigning excitement. “Do you know where I can find her?”

“Well, I don’t have her address. I have her phone number, though I shouldn’t give that out,” said Carol. “But you look harmless.”

“No wolf in sheep’s clothing here.”

Carol laughed, turning to walk through the swinging kitchen door. She returned with a small piece of paper.

“Here ya go. You tell her Carol said hi.”

“I sure will. Thank you so much, ma’am. The coffee was great.”

He stood, paid for the coffee, gave her a five-dollar tip, and walked out. Carol put the bill in her apron and, reaching down to pick up the coffee cup, noticed it hadn’t been touched. She shrugged and carried on with her work.

Nicholas stood outside the diner, asking a passerby for use of her cell phone. He knew his would be traced. The New Yorker obliged, and Nicholas called information. A moment later, he handed the phone back, thanked the woman, and opened the car door.

“She’s in Greenwich Village, not far from here,” Nicholas said.

Jamie kept quiet, looking out the window during the drive through Manhattan until he felt a nudge on his shoulder as they pulled in front of the brownstone.

“This is it,” said Nicholas.

“This time I’ll go alone,” Jamie said. He exited the car and walked up the stairs. The New York sky was losing light as the sun melted on the western horizon. A hard snow began to fall. Looking through the window, he saw that the resident still had her Christmas tree up. The lights were on. Knocking on the door, he heard someone running in his direction on the hardwood floor on the other side. The locks turned, and a young looking woman with short blonde hair opened the door, letting a wave of heat out into the cold evening air.

“Yes?” she asked.

“Hi. I’m looking for Paige.”

“I’m Paige.”

“My name’s Jamie. Does the name Landon mean anything to you?”

Her green eyes grew wide, and the smile that radiated her face faded slightly. He knew what her response was before she said it.

“Yes. I remember him. Why do you ask? What’s this about?”

“I’m his son.”

Then he heard a new sound for the first time. A deafening thumping sound encircled him, at first slow, then with increasing speed. He put his hand to his chest to check his pulse, and realized it wasn’t his heartbeat— it was Paige’s. He heard the blood rush quicker through her veins and arteries, and saw her pulse throb on the side of her neck. Suddenly, the sound of a glass falling over on the kitchen table, and liquid pouring onto the floor caught his attention.

“I’m sorry if I’ve caught you at a bad time,” he said. “Is your husband home?”

“No, I’m not married. That would be one of the kids who did that. Please come in.”

Kids
, he thought.
Landon didn’t mention anything
about kids. Another of his damn secrets.

Paige led Jamie down the hall to the kitchen where two children with red hair sat at the table eating dinner. He saw the spilled liquid was milk. The refrigerator was covered with drawings and notes from school. Kindergarten pictures adorned the kitchen counter. Down the hall, Jamie saw photographs of Paige and the kids, each picture telling a specific child’s life story as they progressed through the years. Barbie dolls and Transformers decorated the living room floor.

“I’m sorry, Mommy,” said the boy.

“It’s okay, honey,” Paige said, wiping up the milk with a towel. “Kids, I want you to meet Jamie. Jamie, this is Liam, and this is Mara. They’re five-year-old twins.”

The children looked up at the same time, smiling shyly at the teen. It then occurred to him that not only was he looking at Landon’s twin children—he was also looking at his own half-siblings. Looking out the kitchen window, he noticed the increasing speed of the oncoming night. He had to hurry.

“So where is Landon now? What’s he up to?”

“I’m sorry. I’ll have to answer your questions later. We need to go.” He gave a quick whistle.

“I don’t understand,” she said. “Go where? I don’t have anyone to watch the kids.”

Nicholas suddenly burst through the door, picked up the children, and whisked them out to the car. Paige tried following, screaming for her children, when Jamie jumped in her path.

“No need for a babysitter,” he said. “They’re coming with us.”

Later that night, Jamie and Nicholas sat in a dark corner of a club. The flashing strobe light gave the impression of stop and go motion on the dance floor. The pair sat at their booth scanning the crowd, Jamie’s leg vibrating subconsciously to White Lies’ “To Lose My Life.” Nicholas did his best to tune out the music.

“Are you sure he’s here?” asked Jamie without yelling, Nicholas’s hearing being acute enough to hear him whisper even in this environment. “This is the fourth place we’ve been to.”

“He’s moving from club to club,” responded Nicholas. “At each previous location, the scent merely lingered, beginning to fade. The scent is strongest here, with no fading taking place. Let’s split up and move through the crowd. You remember his face from the police sketch?”

“Yeah, I remember.”

Nicholas took the perimeter of the club, surveying each table of patrons as he passed. Jamie navigated through the dancing sea of people.

Then, as Jamie emerged on the other side of the dance floor, he saw him sitting at the bar. The police sketch was right on. The short, stocky man with thinning black hair and glasses sat on the bar stool, his black clothes allowing him to hide in plain sight.

Jamie gave a low whistle only Nicholas could hear. The latter turned from the other side of the club and saw Jamie standing on the floor staring at Jerry sitting at the bar, bodies dancing in acts of foreplay around him. Nicholas walked the pathway in the outer ring of the dance floor until he came to Jerry’s end of the bar. There, he stood in position, waiting for Jamie to make his way slowly up the steps from the dance floor to the bar. Jamie sat, facing the bar, as Jerry continued watching the crowd.

“Buy you a drink?” Jamie asked Jerry.

Jerry turned his head and, looking at Jamie, didn’t even attempt to hide the disgust on his face.

“I don’t go that way,” he answered.

Jamie returned the scowl of disdain.

“Well, look who’s judgmental,” said Jamie. “I would think that someone such as you would have a little more compassion for those who also exist on the fringes of acceptance by society.”

“Who do you think you’re talking to? You don’t even know me, or what I’m capable of. You should leave me alone while you can. If you’re not careful, I’ll make a scene.”