The Anxiety of Kalix the Werewolf (25 page)

“You think it's OK to just slap me?”

The girl raised her hand again. Kalix was unable to keep herself in check any longer. She punched the girl full in the face, smashing her nose and producing an explosion of blood that splattered over all of them.
The tall youth barely had time to cry in surprise before Kalix kicked him in the groin and he collapsed, writhing in pain. Kalix leaped toward the next member of the gang and used her forehead to butt him in the face. There was a sickening noise of crunching bone as the bridge of his nose collapsed inward.

Faced with Kalix's unexpected strength and brutality, the two remaining youths lost their nerve and fled. Unfortunately for them, Kalix was no longer completely in control of her actions. She pursued them, catching the girl first. Kalix flung her to the ground and stamped hard on her ribs, breaking them. Her last attacker was a fast runner, but not as fast as Kalix. Kalix descended on him, grabbing his collar and hauling him back. As he turned to face her, she savagely kicked his legs from under him. She kicked him again as he fell and felt her boots snapping a bone in his chest. He cried out in pain and sprawled on the ground. Kalix raised her boot to stamp on his neck. He screamed in fear. Abruptly, and unusually in the circumstances, Kalix's senses began to return. She had the dim idea that perhaps she shouldn't kill him. She hesitated for a few seconds, her boot poised over her defenseless foe's neck. With some effort, she diverted her boot and stamped on his shoulder instead, breaking his collarbone. She nodded and looked around in satisfaction. All five of her attackers were lying on the ground, moaning in pain. Kalix had dealt them heavy injuries.

She skipped off lightly into the darkness. Her anxiety had vanished, as it always did when she was involved in fighting. She felt refreshed, and quite pleased with herself for not killing anyone. They could all be put back together in hospital.

Kalix ran along the riverbank and felt sufficiently enthused to take on her werewolf shape for a few moments as she leaped another fence around an area of grass which was hidden from public view. As she emerged back onto the road, she changed back into her human shape and marched on briskly, feeling much better about everything.

Kalix continued walking east, staying close to the river. She passed the Tate Modern gallery and Southwark Cathedral before turning left onto London Bridge and crossing the Thames. A police car went past very quickly with its lights blazing. It was soon followed by another speeding car. Kalix wondered if they might be on their way to investigate the youths she'd beaten up outside the theater. She knew from experience that she wouldn't normally be suspected of violent crime, as she looked so frail, but she supposed it was possible that one of the youths might
give a description of her. She put her head down and picked up her pace, crossing the bridge quickly and turning into the streets north of the river.

It was now the early hours of the morning. She still had a long way to go before she reached Merchant MacDoig's shop, but she was used to walking around London and didn't mind. There was no point arriving too early. The Merchant's shop in London was usually staffed by MacDoig's son, and he tended not to open the premises till ten or eleven in the morning. More than once, Kalix had spent an uncomfortable morning in the alleyway outside the shop, waiting for it to open so she could buy laudanum.

Kalix wasn't feeling too desperate. The near-euphoria she felt after fighting had mellowed her mood sufficiently for her not to mind waiting. It would mean sleeping out of doors, but the young werewolf had done that many times. She took the main road past Tower Hill and yawned. Kalix wondered where she might sleep. She remembered seeing a park somewhere between here and Limehouse.

Kalix was now alone in the dimly illuminated streets. She liked the feeling. She arrived at the park. There was a sign outside though Kalix couldn't make it out properly. She hopped over a wire fence, padded over some gray tennis courts and disappeared beneath the trees. There she found a large clump of bushes. Glancing around quickly to see that no one observed her, she changed into her werewolf shape, pushed her way into the bushes and lay down comfortably on the ground. She wasn't far from Merchant MacDoig's shop. She'd go there in the morning, buy laudanum and then decide what to do with herself. Though no longer anxious, Kalix could still remember her annoyance at the way everyone in the house had interfered with her business and refused to leave her alone.

Maybe I should move out, thought Kalix. I'm fed up with them all.

With that, she went to sleep.

CHAPTER 45

Kalix woke in better spirits. Spending the night outdoors made her feel less connected with her flatmates and, by extension, with her family and the MacRinnalch Clan. Her mother sent her allowance each month via Moonglow, and Kalix had never liked it that her friends should be linked
to her family in this way. Now, in the early morning sunlight, she felt remote from them all. The burden of guilt she'd been feeling since the death of Minerva MacRinnalch felt less oppressive.

Kalix emerged from the bushes looking disheveled but healthy. She set off, hoping that the Merchant's son might open early. She had enough money for a bottle of laudanum. Working in the supermarket during her vacation had allowed her to save a little as well as pay the bills. She passed a small branch of the same supermarket on her way toward Limehouse, and she remembered how strange it had seemed, pushing trolleys around and stacking shelves. Kalix hadn't much enjoyed the enforced discipline of turning up for work, though Daniel's good nature and Vex's indestructible good humor had made the days pass quicker.

Kalix found herself among a dense crowd of smartly dressed pedestrians, employees of the banks and financial institutions in the area. She ignored them, though there were some curious glances directed toward her, with her long coat, extremely long, tousled hair, her old boots and her ancient jeans. She thought about the fight she'd been involved in. She still felt pleased she'd managed to be slightly less violent. Even though she'd been attacked, she hadn't killed anyone. That was surely a step in the right direction. She stopped, took her journal from her bag and placed a tick on the list in the appropriate place.

At least the whole plan isn't going wrong, she thought. She noticed all the crosses denoting her failures and quickly put her journal away.

Kalix strolled along Narrow Street with the river on her right and a great facade of concrete and glass on her left. Here, in this street of modern commerce, was the tiny alleyway that led to the Merchant's shop. The alley was long and dark, and belonged to a former age, as did the shop at the end. Merchant MacDoig's ancient premises still seemed to exist in the time of Dickens, with tiny panes of glass in leaded windows and a tinkling bell on a chain you rang for admittance.

Kalix hoped the shop might be open, but the old door with its flaked black paint was firmly closed and there was no response when she rang the bell. Kalix growled, very faintly. Her need for laudanum was growing slightly. She wasn't desperate yet, but she would be if the MacDoigs didn't appear. Kalix wondered if they ever went on holiday. She'd never known the shop to be closed, but the thought troubled her and brought on a twinge of anxiety. She looked at the door, wondering if she could batter it open. Probably, she thought, unless it was protected by some spell. That was possible. It was notable that neither of the MacDoigs ever showed
the slightest sign of nervousness when conversing with werewolves, even angry werewolves. Among the MacRinnalchs, it was commonly supposed that they both carried some sort of sorcerous protection.

Kalix went back up the alley, far less enthusiastically than she'd approached the shop. She didn't want to sit around and be found there by the Merchant, waiting for laudanum. It would be humiliating. Nor did she want to loiter in the main street, where she felt conspicuous. She turned into the first side street she came to and paused idly outside a wine bar, gazing at what seemed to her a very modern decor of mirrors and low-backed chairs. Despite the relatively upmarket nature of the wine bar, there was a cheap-looking sign in the window advertising “Mojito madness.” Kalix didn't know what that meant.

“Fancy a mojito?”

Kalix spun around, alarmed to be addressed by a stranger. She found herself facing a young man perhaps twenty years old. He was about an inch shorter than her, with long wavy blonde hair and large blue eyes. Kalix's first thought was that he looked like a girl. She glared at him suspiciously.

“What?” she demanded.

The young man grinned. He was wearing a short blue coat, which was also, Kalix thought, rather girly.

“Mojito madness,” said the young man, pointing at the sign. “I'll buy you one.”

Kalix was still alarmed, and now she felt annoyed too. “I don't know what a mojito is,” she said in a very unfriendly tone. “And why would you buy me one anyway?”

The young man, apparently not put off by her tone, grinned at her again. He had nice teeth, Kalix noticed.

“It's a cocktail,” he said. “Made with rum. Sorry, did I offend you by asking if I could buy you one? I just noticed you looking pretty and lonely in the street and thought I'd talk to you.”

“Oh.” Kalix was nonplussed at this, though she felt a little less angry. It was difficult to remain all that annoyed at the young man who'd just complimented her. He certainly wasn't threatening. Kalix noticed a faint trace of eyeliner around his eyes.

“I like your coat,” he continued. “And your nose ring, it's pretty. Would you like a mojito?”

Kalix looked at the wine bar. “It's not open yet,” she said.

“It'll be open soon.”

Kalix was so shy that she found it puzzling to meet anyone who was
confident about talking to strangers. She could never have done it herself. She had a feeling that she wouldn't mind having a mojito with this young man, but she suppressed it. She was here to buy laudanum. She shook her head and took a step away.

“No thanks,” she said.

The young man looked disappointed. “I'm Manny,” he said. “What's your name?”

Kalix didn't answer but hurried away, back into the main road by the river. She felt a little cheered by the encounter. She supposed it wasn't such a bad thing for a nice young stranger to call her pretty. At least it had passed a little time. She headed back toward the alley, hoping that the MacDoigs might now have opened their shop.

CHAPTER 46

This time, when Kalix rang the bell, she sensed herself being examined through the dusty peephole. The door swung open and Merchant MacDoig's son greeted her with the same hearty smile that his father had directed toward his customers for more than a century. The Merchant had lived an unnaturally long life, though no one knew how.

Young MacDoig ushered Kalix quickly inside. The interior was a treasure house of strange, arcane items, many of them rare, and some of them unrecognizable. Scattered here and there were a few pieces of antique furniture, though the finest pieces were kept upstairs, where the Merchant had made a very cozy nest full of valuable old furnishings and tableware. He'd even managed to maintain his coal fire, though it was no longer legal to burn coal in London. Merchant MacDoig was determinedly old-fashioned, and his son was taking after him. He was stout like his father, he wore the same Victorian clothes and while his shock of hair was red rather than gray, he was developing the same florid face.

“It's fine to see you again, Kalix. Still enjoying yourself in the big city, aye? Pleased to hear it.”

MacDoig disappeared behind the counter and almost from view at the back of the shop. He half opened a door and leaned through. The MacDoigs were careful never to display their supply of laudanum in public. Where they obtained it from was unknown. As far as Kalix understood,
the opium tincture was not manufactured and sold as an illegal drug in the same way that other substances were. It was produced for medical use only, and its supply was tightly controlled. The MacDoigs had found a supplier, somewhere.

“Finest quality,” said Young MacDoig proudly, producing an unlabeled brown glass bottle.

The first time Kalix had bought laudanum from Merchant MacDoig, he'd let her have it cheaply. As a favor, he'd said. It hadn't taken long for the price to increase. Kalix counted out her money and handed it over.

“A terrible business up in Scotland,” said the Merchant's son. “Old Minerva, I mean. Poor soul. We did a lot of business with her.”

Kalix wondered if he knew about her part in Minerva's death. The MacDoigs always knew a lot of gossip. They might easily have learned of Kalix's shameful part in the affair. Kalix fixed her gaze on the counter as she handed over her money.

“There will be trouble now, I'm sure,” MacDoig said. “The clan won't let it go easily.”

He looked to Kalix for agreement, but the young werewolf had no desire to stay and trade gossip. Buying laudanum was shameful enough at the best of times. It felt worse now, after Minerva's death. Kalix muttered a barely audible “goodbye” before racing off up the alley, relieved to have escaped. She turned back into the main road then halted abruptly. The overwhelming odors of the city could blunt the sharp senses of a werewolf, but there was no mistaking the scent that Kalix picked up. Decembrius was nearby. Kalix wasn't keen for Decembrius to catch her visiting the MacDoigs. He'd know what she was there for. She ducked her head and hurried on, but halted again after only a few paces. The only times she'd known Decembrius to visit the Merchant had been when he was on some errand for the Douglas-MacPhees. Could he possibly be working with them again?