“And why’s that?”
“The amulet will have changed him by now. Whoever he was before will have been erased. It is a powerful artifact.”
Earl was getting tired of holding up the Thompson. Being a werewolf, he’d forgotten how darn heavy these things were, having been made back in the good old days when everything was made of solid wood and machined steel. “Tell me about it.”
“Do you know of Koschei?” Nikolai asked. When Earl shook his head in the negative, Nikolai continued. “He was my mentor. The oldest of all werewolves. He’d pledged his loyalty to Lenin, and Stalin after that, though neither realized just how old he really was. They believed him to be just a mere werewolf, willing to serve in exchange for legitimacy and protection, which sounds a bit familiar…”
Earl didn’t let the jab upset him. “Man’s gotta eat.”
Nikolai continued. “Since Koschei wore the amulet, he was virtually immortal. He kept a low profile, doing their bidding but never rocking the boat. Before the Soviet Union, he had served the tsars, and before that the Rus. Before that, who knows? He was a follower, not a leader. Koschei was a figure of myth. They called him the Deathless, yet he rarely indulged in using the amulet’s powers. I believe he was afraid of it. I had become like a son to him before he even revealed it to me. Not even he knew where it had come from, only that it was old, and that it granted terrible powers.”
Earl nodded toward the skeleton. “This fancy amulet look like that thing’s hand by chance?”
A moment passed as Nikolai silently studied the three-fingered claw. “In fact, yes. Though I do not know what this creature was, it calls to me. Can’t you hear its song? No, of course not, I forget, your Tvar has been silenced. Believe me, Harbinger, these bones are special. This is a shrine.”
“You mentioned terrible powers. What’re we talking about here?”
“The amulet feeds on the life energy of werewolves and bestows it on the bearer. Koschei only used it sparingly to keep from aging. For someone who was supposedly a loyal Communist, he had an inordinate fear of the afterlife. However, near indestructibility is not the ability that worries me. Have you heard of vulkodlak?”
The prisoner in the county jail had spoken of them before Earl had put him out of his misery. “Only in passing.”
I first heard it from one of Stalin’s Romanian necromancers. When Koschei learned that the Motherland was experimenting in such things, he became distressed. I suspect that he even sabotaged the project. Well, perhaps sabotage is the incorrect word, since the outright murder of several necromancers is a bit stronger than sabotage. Koschei had lived for seven centuries, and nothing caused him greater worry than the idea of the vulkodlak. I do not know the specifics of such beings, only that they are related to werewolves and death magic, and that they struck fear into the heart of an unstoppable man.”
“Well, I’m guessing somebody stopped him, otherwise his fancy necklace wouldn’t have ended up in Michigan.” Earl finally gave up and sat on the carpet, leaning his sore back against the wall. He was careful to keep the subgun on Nikolai the entire time. “Do you know how he went down?”
“I was not there. Stalin sent him to fight in the Winter War. Koschei was lost in battle. Intelligence discovered who had been given credit for the kill, a young rifleman named Kerkonen. The amulet was never recovered, but since I was the only one aware of the amulet’s significance, I did not pursue it. “
“Why not?” Earl asked. “Something like that could have been mighty handy for you Commie bastards.”
Nikolai’s smile was unnerving. “If you knew my Tvar, you would understand. He could never be allowed such a toy. It was for the best, for all of us.”
This confirmed what Earl had already learned. Heather’s grandfather had somehow defeated an immortal werewolf and then brought its magic talisman to America. Why hadn’t he just destroyed the damn thing? Why come here at all? Had he realized what he had? The rough pictures in the journal indicated that he had at least some idea of its significance.
“Who else knew about the amulet?” Earl wondered aloud. “It’s no coincidence that a powerful werewolf who just happened to have the bones of the great-granddaddy of all werewolves moved into this house in the town where the amulet was hidden.”
“Perhaps it was fate?” Nikolai suggested.
“Me and fate don’t get along, and coincidence ain’t exactly my friend, either.” Earl kept his right hand on the Thompson’s grip as he fished a cigarette out of his coat with his left. “Want a smoke?”
“Do I get a blindfold, too?”
Earl chuckled. “Like you’d want one. Don’t worry, you’ll see it coming. That’s only fair…” Earl lit up and took a long draw. He blew out a cloud. Hopefully the Alpha didn’t smoke and Earl was at least stinking up his fancy living room. “So, how do I kill this asshole?”
“I do not know, but I would like to help. It helps when I have a purpose. If you order me to help, Tvar will have no choice but to obey.”
“Nikolai, I’m afraid you’re broken inside, and I don’t trust you at all. I’m trying real hard to decide what to do with you right about now. I don’t suspect you’ll like what I’ve come up with.”
“I can be of assistance.”
“I’m sure you could…One question?” Earl took another puff, savoring the smoke. He was going to miss those regenerating lungs. “How many innocent people have you killed? Not in total, because we both know it would take all night to make that list. How many have died just since you’ve gone on your latest rampage?”
Nikolai looked down at his hands. “Too many.”
“One is too many, comrade.”
There was a polite cough as Heather came down the stairs. “Am I interrupting something?” she asked.
“Nothing of significance. Just my trial,” Nikolai said, taking his eyes off Earl for a moment. “My, my, Deputy, aren’t you the lovely specimen. The curse suits some of us more than others. I bet you feel simply wonderful right now. You’re quite the butterfly compared to the little caterpillar I met this afternoon.”
“Stuff it, weirdo.” Heather walked as far around Nikolai as possible. “The place is mostly bare, Harbinger. Everything is neat as can be. Clothes are clean and folded. No ID, no papers, no personal effects, no decoration, nada. There’s a Mac on the kitchen table. We can plug it in at the school and see if there’s anything useful on it.” She held out something to Earl. “This is the only thing out of place in the whole house, other than Mr. Bony, obviously. It was in the dresser drawer next to the bed.”
“Cover him for me,” Earl suggested as he took the photograph. Heather aimed her shotgun at Nikolai.
“I assure you, there’s no need for that, my dear.” Nikolai spread his hands innocently.
Heather cocked her head to the side. “I’m guessing people have probably told you you’re a charming man, Mr. Peterson.”
“Why, yes, they have.”
“They lied. Now shut the fuck up.”
The photo was crinkled and falling apart with age. Earl flicked open his Zippo and studied it with the light cast by the flame. It was yellowed and discolored to the point that it took him a moment to realize that he knew these people.
It can’t be…
Suddenly, everything made sense.
He must have made a noise. “Harbinger?” Heather asked, the concern evident in her voice. “Are you okay?”
No. I’m not. The Alpha had called him father. He couldn’t remember spreading the curse, but the evidence was here. Earl didn’t understand how he’d been tricked, but with dark magic involved, there were ways to deceive the senses. The smell had been wrong, the voice had been wrong, but he and Nikolai had both been lured here, not just because of their strength, but because of their personal connections. Earl had been lied to by someone he’d considered a friend, and there was nothing he hated more.
Earl touched the photograph to the flame. It caught quickly. He held it out as the flames consumed the paper. Finally, as it began to sear his fingers, he tossed it to the carpet and watched it burn. It was sorely tempting to let the fire spread to the whole house, but he rubbed it to ashen bits with the toe of his boot. “Heather, wait for me outside.”
“But-”
“ Now! ”
