'Selene Reece is dead?'
The Murder Machine nodded once. 'I'd heard rumors of a club that hunted people for sport. I decided that discovering it needed to be more than a project of leisure.'
I shivered at his cold, mechanical delivery. 'You learned that I was going to the club last night. You found me in time to kill Selene.' '300 meters,.600 Nitro-express, night scope, no rest.'
Zag shivered. 'Impressive shot.'
I swallowed hard. 'Thanks for the freebie.'
'Amateurs kill for free.' He popped open a compartment on his metallic left arm and tossed me a blue silk sachet tied with a lock of black hair. 'I am a professional.'
Through the silk I felt some coins4making up change from the ten nuyen I'd given him two nights before. From the second he'd seen Albion's body, Stealth had known what would happen. That was why he'd insisted I give him the money and why I'd had a guardian angel following me, waiting…
I looked up at him. 'Was I your bait?'
'You were my patron.'
I nodded, ignoring the growing ache in my ribs. Slipping the knot from the silk, I poured the money into my pocket. I offered Stealth back his trophy, but he shook his head. I tossed Selene's hair into the gutter, and as the rain washed it toward the sewer I realized that no matter how much of a predator you figure yourself to be, you can always be someone else's fair game.
4 Yeah, coins are archaic, but Stealth knows I don't handle new guns well…
If As Beast You Don't Succeed
When you come right down to it, there's no easy way to tell the woman you intend to marry that you're a werewolf. If I'd been a hit-man for the mob or had worked clean-up for yakuza enforcers or had even been a poacher out in the Tir, I could have told her straight out. I would have taken Lynn's hand in mine and said, 'Look, there's something you should know about me. I've done some bad things in my life, but that's all ended now.'
That would have been easy. The confession, some tears, some hugging, some kissing, and an 'I'll marry you, Wolf,' would have all followed one after the other. Not that I'd gone this route before, but I knew it would have worked. Women seem to find honesty seductive- probably because there's so damned little of it in the courting process. Besides, I had it so bad for Lynn I couldn't let myself even think about her rejecting me.
But that was in the case where I confessed being a mass murderer or something just as bad. Being a werewolf, on the other hand, was much worse1.
1Pretty much every pundit who ever posted an opinion to the altweird-folks.shapeshifter news groups has noted that there are no such things as werewolves. And Raven had told me that I'm really just blessed by the Wolf spirit-so blessed that a chunk of it is subletting a portion of my cerebral cortex. Ftae. But if you ask anyone on the street what they call someone who becomes a wolf under the full moon, 'someone blessed by the Wolf spirit' isn't the answer you'll get
Lynn would try to understand, and I knew that for her a try was as good as doing. Her parents would be decidedly more difficult to sway. In an instant I saw Lynn's parents inviting me to dinner and the effect my little revelation might have. 'That's nice, dear,' Blanche In-gold would say politely. 'Does that mean we shouldn't use the good silver?'
Phil would have a use for the silver and probably wouldn't have that difficult a time finding the bullet molds or a gunsmith to do the trick for him. I liked Phil, and he liked me, but he'd still be at the door with a gun to keep me away from Lynn. I couldn't blame him, really. No man wants to think about having to paper-train his grandchildren.
My telecom beeped, rescuing me from the nihilistic and depressing spiral my thoughts had spun into over the last two hours. I swore when I saw it was only a piece of email from Raven. I'd have wanted him to stay on-line so we could discuss the message I'd sent him earlier. I decrypted his message by hitting two keys and read it as the words scrolled up the screen.
Wolf,
Kid Stealth, Tom Electric, Tark, and I are taking Valerie Valkyrie and heading up to Oak Harbor to probe a bit more deeply into Mr. Sampson's background. Uncertain when we will return. I would heartily encourage you continue to see Lynn Ingold as we would not want another attempt to abduct her.
We will discuss the matter of your message upon my return. I am glad you are happy, my friend.
– Raven
As I read the message I found myself of two minds, the two at war with each other. I was a bit piqued that Raven hadn't asked me to go with him on the investigation. I am, after all, his longest surviving aide and I've got talents that all the cybernetics built into Kid Stealth and Tom Electric combined can't equal. More important, I'd brought the Sampson matter to his attention in the first place. The Halloweeners, a street gang that controlled what had once been my old neighborhood, were never much of a threat to anyone beside themselves. This proved especially true after the Night of Fire a couple of years ago when the Weenies had been taken down, hard. It took them over a year to get back up to strength and then they had to fight to reclaim their turf.
That fight had been going poorly, which was no great surprise because Charles the Red was still in charge of the Weenies. Then this huge guy, with long blond hair and arrogance dense enough to stop bullets, showed up and started giving orders. Chuckles accepted his demotion graciously and, after getting out of the hospital, started backing Mr. Sampson in his effort to retake Weenie turf.
I'd never been on good terms with the Halloweeners, and Charles the Red thought of me as the person responsible for destroying the gang. I knew that wasn't the whole truth, but letting Charles imagine it was kept him away from the others who'd broken the Weenies. I had Raven backing me, which meant Charles growled a lot, but didn't bite.
Then Sampson showed up and the Weenies started being a lot more aggressive. Raven decided to see what he could do to discourage them, and thus had begun the investigation of Mr. Sampson. Apparently something had turned up to link Sampson to Oak Harbor and I was glad Raven was following up on the lead. Still, getting left behind made me feel like I was being punished when I hadn't done anything.
I stopped for a second.Wolf, sending Raven that message this morning can hardly be considered nothing.
The message had said that I'd decided to ask Lynn to marry me and, for that reason, I felt I had to sever my connections with Raven and his crew.
I smiled as I reread Doc's suggestion that I continue to see Lynn. Short of having me trussed up and hauled down to the southwestern deserts that had spawned him, Raven knew he couldn't have kept me away from her. It pleased me to see that he took real joy in seeing that I'd found the happiness he denied himself.
The alarm on the telecom went off, and I realized I was going to be late if I didn't get moving. With the stroke of one button, I zapped the message, then retreated to my bedroom. I stood there, staring at the clothes hanging in my closet, and shook my head in dismay. If haute couture ever discovers kevlar, I'll be doing turns on Paris runways. But though I was amply supplied for playing the well-heeled soldier of fortune, I had virtually nothing to wear that could be described asnormal.
I shook my head again.That's because you ARE a soldier of fortune, Wolfgang Kies. For the past eight years you 've worked with Raven in his battle to keep the chaos of the Awakening from swallowing up what's left of humanity. You and the others have helped hold the line that keeps normal people safe from magical monsters and technological monstrosities. There's nothing wrong with being a warrior, and your clothes have allowed you to survive dressing for the part…
I finally settled on a pair of jeans Lynn had cajoled me into buying on our last outing-so I'd have some that had more fabric than holes, she said. The gray t-shirt I selected had two advantages: it was clean and it was woven of kevlar. Though I didn't expect trouble, I'd not become Raven's longest-living aide by being completely stupid. Lastly I chose my black leather jacket to wear over it, even though it had a red and black raven patch on the left shoulder.
Having solved that problem, I hit the shower for a quick, somewhat bracing scrub-down. I had a devil of a time trying to wash my back and actually gave up after not too much effort. As long as I was going to be confessing things to Lynn, I figured I could add in needing help with that little job and see if she'd offer assistance.
Thattactichad worked before. I toweled myself dry and found myself standing before the mirror, doing the obligatory, Double-X chro-mosomally challenged person's flexing and posturing. I'm not as tall as some men, but
