Howling Legion

gray sweat-suit stood in the kitchen. He held a can of coffee in one hand, pulled the top off, and sniffed the plastic circle. A narrow smile slid across his sunken features as he said, “I’ve grown to love coffee since crossin’ the pond. Care for a mug?”

Randolph narrowed his eyes and walked over to where the kitchen table had landed. He righted it with as much effort as someone might use to lift a box of cereal and slapped the newspaper down flat upon it. “What have you done, Liam?”

“Why, whatever do you mean?” the skinny man asked in a thick cockney accent.

Scanning the headlines for all of two seconds, Randolph slammed a finger down on a lower corner of the front page. “This is what I mean!”

Liam took the carafe from the coffee machine and filled it. Squinting as he scooped some grounds into a filter and put it all together in the machine, he asked, “Might you be referrin’ to the gas prices or the construction?”

Randolph didn’t move.

When Liam spoke again, his accent was smoother and more natural than it had been before. “They were bound to notice us sooner or later.”

“Especially since you’ve been running down the streets and howling at the moon like an idiot!”

“That’s fine talk comin’ from you, Randolph. What about the street wars you instigated back in New York?”

“I didn’t start those, and that was long before pictures and video could be spread so easily. For God’s sake, there’s hardly even a record of it! This,” he snarled, while pounding his fist against the newspaper, “is even worse than your incident in Whitechapel.”

Liam got the coffee brewing with the tap of a button and then glanced back at Randolph. “That was also over a hundred years ago. Besides, I’ve never been linked to those gutted whores.”

Cocking his head slightly, Randolph narrowed his eyes to a point where the other man couldn’t bear it.

Finally, Liam snarled, “All right, fine. I may have had a little something to do with the Whitechapel incident, but it wasn’t just me killing a bunch of women for no reason. Those uptight constables had the gall to try and run us out of London! Don’t you remember that?” Dark hair was plastered against his scalp and forehead in a way that would have seemed perfectly natural in the faded portrait of a banker from the eighteenth century. Even his facial structure seemed outdated. His bony shoulders and narrow limbs were built for old suits that hung in museums.

“Times are different now,” Randolph reminded him. “Even if they weren’t, what you’re doing is unacceptable.”

“Perhaps,” Liam said as he raised his eyebrows, “you could have kept things in line if you’d been here. I did invite you, but you’re so hard to find. I only recently learned the new name you’ve taken. Burkis, is it?”

The other nodded almost imperceptibly.

“Almost back to your roots, eh? I like it.”

Randolph snatched up the paper and practically rubbed Liam’s nose in it. “What do you hope to accomplish with this? You’re purposely creating Half Breeds?”

“Yes. They’re rather like machines. While I’m not altogether fond of machinery, it is nice to wind it all up and watch it go.”

“Don’t try to smooth this over with a bunch of prissy talk,” Randolph snarled. “Do you actually hope to accomplish anything with this or are you just making another spectacle?”

Liam took the newspaper away fast enough to leave a few shredded scraps in Randolph’s hand. After looking over the article, he let out an amused, snuffing breath. “Whoever wrote this is still blaming the deaths on dogs or criminals! There’s been bloodier months when human criminals fight amongst themselves. You should know that better than anyone.”

“Gang wars are started and fought by human gangs,” Randolph said. “People know how to react to that. When those wars are over, everyone goes back to their lives. This can’t possibly be forgotten so easily.”

While Randolph spoke, Liam rolled his eyes and walked back to check on the coffee. “You weren’t always such a stickler. In fact, didn’t I hear about a bunch of hunters being slaughtered in a cabin that just happened to be in your stomping grounds?”

“Those hunters were Skinners.”

“All of them?”

“No,” Randolph replied. “One was a Mongrel in possession of a Blood Blade that was meant to kill our kind. Skinners should know to stick to the leeches in their cities or the Half Breeds that slip through the cracks. As far as Mongrels are concerned, I kill as many as I can find. The one I chased away from that cabin won’t be a problem anytime soon.”

Liam leaned against the counter and ran his finger along the side of the heated pad beneath the coffee carafe. “Oh, I see. When you kill, it’s justified. Always against prey that should know better than to overstep your bounds. Didn’t you hear the truth that Henry broadcast to the rest of us? Haven’t you seen for yourself that the leeches don’t rule the cities as we’d always believed? How the hell did we fall for that rubbish anyway? Doesn’t that make you feel foolish?”

“I’ve lived in cities,” Randolph said. “The leeches and Skinners can have them.”

“Oh, sure. We get to live in parks or the little green patches of woodlands that the humans rope off like fucking zoos!” Liam roared. With every word, his voice swelled to fill more of the empty spaces within the house. “The days when we can live where we please are fading, Randolph Standing Bear. Just ask the Natives who gave you that name.”

“Our arrangement has worked just fine. We can’t—”

Slamming his fist down hard enough to shatter the countertop, Liam shouted, “There is nothing we can’t do! We are Full Bloods! The only reason we scampered into the forests while the humans built their cities was because we allowed it to happen! I warned you about the Skinners, Randolph. I warned you they would figure out new ways to poison and kill us, and look what’s happened! At least the Gypsies show some craftsmanship with their Blood Blades. The Skinners are grave robbers who prod us with sticks.”

“You can stuff your warnings,” Randolph said. “I’m the one that’s been thinning the Skinner herd while you’ve been out spilling blood for no good reason. If you truly wanted to help, you’d help me remove the thorns in our sides without creating more of them to deal with. What purpose could such public slaughter possibly serve?”

The fist that he’d used to break the counter now unfolded so Liam could gently sweep away some dust that had settled next to the coffee machine. He grabbed the carafe and poured the fresh brew into his mouth. Leaving his chin up and his eyes locked upon a spot on the wall, he swallowed and said, “They should fear us. This whole world would be much better if people had the good sense to fear. It’d be quieter at least.”

“What kind of manure is that?”

“Humans are arrogant. They strut about, flapping their gums, making their noise and tossing about idle threats because they’re not afraid anymore. I’m not even talking about a crippling fear of the dark. I’m talking about that bit of common sense that warns them against walking into dangerous places or provoking someone who might do them harm. You know what humans do when they make a mistake or bite off more than they can chew?” After swigging some more coffee, Liam said, “They sue. Some idiot spouts off, gets beaten for it, and they sue. Another moron ignores a sign, stumbles under a load of bricks, and they sue.

“If they see something greater than them, they need to challenge it. If something is sacred to one group, another group just has to knock it down to show their will is more sacred. When these damned fools find something dangerous, they seek it out just for the thrill of it! There used to be a time when creatures that stupid were wiped out through the good sense of a harsh natural order. We’re that natural order, Randolph.”

“And humans are the arrogant ones?” Randolph scoffed.

But Liam shook that off with ease. “When a species becomes too large, they are culled by predators or disease. Humans hide behind machines and suck down drugs to combat disease. They’ve cheated their way through an existence that should have been ended hundreds of years ago. We’re the predators made to do the culling.”

Randolph straightened up to his full height, which put him several inches over Liam’s head. “All you want is to restore the natural order?” he said with sarcasm dripping from every word. “You’re so much nobler than I remembered.”