Chapter 6

Silver Bullets and Baby Showers

Chapter 6: Silver Bullets and Baby Showers

One Week Later

“Wait, so you’re saying you’re still technically alpha, and you’re bringing a plushie to Astrid’s baby shower, Wen?” Aurora said.

“I can hear the judgment on your face right now, Auri. He’s Paddington Bear! He’s iconic!” Wendell cried, crunching his phone against his neck and shoulder as he pulled a fragrant tray out of the oven. “I baked my famous lavender shortbread to go with it, too.”

“Do cookies and teddy bears really scream ‘alpha gift’ though?” Aurora asked.

“I can’t believe you’re doing this to me right now,” Wendell groaned. “You’re supposed to be on my side. Plus, I’m sure Cayden got a hand-carved crib crafted from sustainable organic wood and custom-crafted fair-trade baby toys made by independent women artists in a third-world country, and put both of our names on the gifts. He always did that when we were together.”

“Whew, I just lost my breath hearing you say all of that,” Aurora said. “And for the record, I was messing with you. I’m happy you’re actually going to this thing instead of cocooning yourself into doom and gloom isolation.”

Mary Shelley strutted into the kitchen and scratched at the back door.

“Absolutely not,” Wendell told her, “Your indoor-only days are indefinite, Missy.”

With the revelation about Rodger possibly surviving and going after Wendell, it really was a miracle he wasn’t isolating himself.

As if she read his mind, Aurora brought up the topic again.

“Let’s say Rodger did survive, and he is a werewolf now,” Aurora proposed.

Since coming out of Aurora’s retrocognition, Rodger was at the top of everyone’s mind.

Wendell didn’t need to be a clairvoyant to know that this conversation was going to be like every other conversation from the past week, where they ended up talking in circles and speculating. He was getting tired of it.

“Werewolf or not, he’d still be Rodger. And Rodger was never the intimidation or blackmailing type. Lycanthropy doesn’t seriously change its victims’ personalities,” Wendell asserted as he straightened the ribbon he tied around the Paddington plushie’s neck. He wrapped and unwrapped the bear twice before settling on the ribbon alternative.

Mary Shelley meowed at the back door.

“It takes away and ‘cures’ most preexisting health conditions, like my asthma and crappy vision, but that’s the extent of it. It’s not a factory reset,” Wendell continued.

Maybe he wants to take revenge on me for leaving him, Wendell thought grimly to himself. But surviving an attack at that level of violence was unlikely. Plus, knowing Rodger, he was certain Rodger would want Wendell to save himself. Rodger would want Wendell not to be another victim that night.

Mary Shelley meowed more loudly and scratched harder at the door.

“Mary, stop!” Wendell snapped.

Mary Shelley redoubled her meowing and scratching efforts.

“I’m not letting you outside!” Wendell exclaimed. “Go in your window seat. Watch the birdies.”

When Wendell and Cayden were still living together, Cayden found the most bougie, extravagant cat tower. It’s how Wendell knew Astrid’s new baby was in good hands when it came to furniture gifts. Mary Shelley’s tower was put up against the best bird viewing window in the house.

“What’s up with her?” Aurora asked.

“I don’t know! She usually acts like this when Cayden comes around. He better not be peeing in my yard again,” Wendell groaned. He peeked out the small window above his sink that looked out onto the back patio. Someone was sitting in one of the chairs at the table.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. Auri, I think he’s sitting on my back patio. If he thinks this is okay in any capacity of the word, he can think again.”

“No way! He’s not!” Aurora gasped. “That’s weird even for him.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m not playing this game with him. He can call me like a normal person and tell me he’s outside,” Wendell said stubbornly. He checked the shortbread to make sure it was cool enough to package in the plastic container.

Mary Shelley yowled at the door.

Wendell groaned and stomped over to the window. This time, he stopped to take a good, long look. He nearly dropped the phone when he saw who was actually in the chair.

“Auri… I… I … I fo-found Todd.”

“How long do you think he’s been out here?” Aurora cringed as she looked at Odd Todd’s body slumped in the chair on Wendell’s back patio. He was wearing his usual DONHE uniform, and there were no signs of how he was killed. No bruises or burns. No scars or bullet holes. It actually sort of looked like he was sleeping.

“How long has he been dead in my backyard, you mean?” Wendell cried, trying to not feel hysterical. This was bad news. Forget lone wolves and stalkery newspaper articles. This was escalating fast, and Wendell didn’t like it one bit.

“Probably at least a few days. He’s really stiff,” Dani said, lifting Todd’s arm.

“What do you want to do?” Aurora frowned.

“We’ll put him in the garage for now,” Wendell said, hating the idea as he said it. “If he comes back as a ghost, it’ll make it easier for him to talk to me that way. I have a lawn tarp we can wrap him in.”

“We might consider telling Aoife,” Aurora started.

“Not Wedge!” Dani groaned. “DONHE is going to find out that Todd is missing soon and they’re going to start making the rounds questioning the last people who saw him…and the people whose case files he’s managing. You call Wedge, she’ll definitely peg this on Wendell, you know that Auri. Especially because you two are still keeping your friendship secret. She has no reason to believe you about a random werewolf’s innocence.”

“They might think it’s a little suspicious that, well, gee, Todd’s dead body was lounging on a chair in my back patio and is rolled in a lawn tarp in my garage right now. If they accuse me of his murder, they’ll definitely lock me up. They might even decide to put me down. Forever,” Wendell said grimly.

“Put you… down?” Aurora asked slowly. “Like?” She swiped a finger across her throat like it was dragging an invisible blade.

“No, more like,” Wendell rolled his sleeve up and pretended he held a needle. He jabbed it into his vein. “Behavioral euthanasia isn’t just for out-of-control murderous dogs.”

“Sometimes it’s for out-of-control murderous werewolves,” Aurora said.

“Right,” Wendell sighed. “I don’t even know if they’d let me try to plead my case with a werewolf lawyer. Or any lawyer for that case. And I can’t take my chances.”

“Okay, okay,” Aurora said, holding her arms up. “It was just a thought. So we put Odd Todd in your garage and then what?”

“Therapy,” Wendell groaned. “I have my next appointment in less than an hour.”

“Well, if there was ever an appropriate time, now’s it,” Dani said, forcing a smile.

“I still don’t trust her, by the way,” Wendell admitted.

“How much did you go into the attack with her?” Aurora asked.

“I kept it to the bare minimum. I told her the story that I told everyone else, that the only reason I survived was that I played dead at the campsite.”

The reality was that Wendell didn’t leave the abandoned amusement park to go back to the campsite until after he was discovered.

He woke up the next morning in the water ride tunnel he passed out in, to the sound of voices. With the ugly bite mark on his ankle still throbbing in pain, he hobbled his way in the direction they came from.

It was a group of amateur ghost hunters, equipped with a video camera, EVP recorder, and EMF meter, hoping to record evidence of the paranormal. Instead, Wendell, who was haunted but very alive (and very bloody), limped onto the scene and stole the show.

They drove him back to the campsite, and when they saw the carnage for themselves, it completely dashed any desire they had to stay on those grounds in search of ghosts for another second. Some things you can’t walk away from unscathed. That was one of those moments.

Thankfully, that afternoon, Wendell’s therapist had something else on her mind.

He’d been in session barely five minutes and he couldn’t think straight. Odd Todd’s dead body left in his backyard, thoughts about his final days as a human, and if Rodger secretly survived whipped around and around in his head like a hurricane.

“Wen, are you with me?” Silvia asked.

Wendell nodded even though he didn’t mean it. Maybe this was one of those psychological impacts that Aurora warned him about.

“I want to talk about something a little different today, Wen,” Silvia said. “In our first session I brought up how childhood traumas can, and do, inform our adult lives and how we face the world. I want us to go back to your family.”

She flipped through the notebook in Wendell’s case file on her lap. “I asked you if you had any siblings.”

“One. My brother. Wylan. We’re twins,” Wendell said.

“I wrote here that you implied something happened between the two of you when you were younger,” Silvia said. “Let’s go back to that.”

“Uh, yeah,” Wendell hesitated. A heavy sadness smothered him like a soaking blanket. “We went to visit our grandparents for one weekend over the summer and Wylan… he went… he got … lost.”

Talking about Wylan’s disappearance into the twisted fairy world he wound up crossing over into wasn’t easy. But it wasn’t as hard as talking about himself. If focusing on Wylan would be the way to survive these therapy sessions, so be it. Plus, this would get Silvia off Wendell’s back for not talking.

“And was that something you did a lot? Visit your grandparents?”

“No. It was a new house. They moved into a lakehouse. It was surrounded by woods too. It was almost the end of our spring break in April and it was our first time visiting them,” Wendell explained.

“So Wylan ran away?”

“No! He got… lost. He went into the woods alone with his Polaroid camera and didn’t show up for dinner that night. He didn’t come back out of the woods,” Wendell said heavily.

“And where were you when he went into the woods?”

“At the lake. Swimming with friends. I said I’d meet him later,” Wendell said.

Wendell still felt guilty over the way he talked to his brother that day. Yeah, he was only twelve, and yeah he had no idea that Wylan would go missing for months, but it didn’t excuse his behavior. He treated Wylan like shit.

“He wanted to take the pictures that afternoon. For a book we were working on. So he went alone,” Wendell said. It was a half-truth. Wylan wanted them to take the pictures together. Guilt gnawed harder at Wendell.

“When was the next time you’d see him?”

Wendell swallowed thickly. He wished he brought a water bottle with him. “He found his way back to us three months later. I was in the hospital. It was after the… the attack.”

“How were things when Wylan came back? You were just recovering from the wild dog attack after your Boy Scout camping trip, right?”

“Things were different. But it was right after the attack so I wasn’t fully…myself either,” Wendell said honestly.

The therapist motioned for Wendell to continue.

“I was different. He was different. It was all different, okay?” Wendell snapped. He shook his head and took a deep breath. “That first night we were all together, our parents made us mac and cheese and tofu hotdogs and mashed potatoes. They even got us an ice cream cake. It was all our favorite foods. It was what we’d eat for our birthday.”

“And how did that feel?”

“Like I was watching them, no, like I watching us eat it. Mom, Dad, Wylan, and … me. It was like I was outside myself. I don’t remember actually tasting or enjoying a single bite of it.”

“When you said Wylan was different… in what way?” Silvia prompted.

Her intense interest in Wylan triggered a primal part of Wendell that suspected something was up. Could this woman be part of DONHE? Wendell fought to keep his suspicions from showing. Tipping her off that he thought she was up to something was the last thing he wanted to do. Best keep those cards close.

“He seemed … older. And his personality changed. He was quiet. Distant. Normally he’d never shut up. He’d talk, talk, talk. But after he came back he was quiet. Kept to himself. Then he’d get angry and upset. It scared our parents,” Wendell said, sticking just to the facts.

“Scared them?” Silvia asked interestedly.

Wendell nodded. “He used to be so easy going. So happy.”

“Did he scare you too?” Silvia asked gently.

“No. Not even for a second. I’d never be afraid of him. Upset with him, annoyed with him, frustrated with him, yes. But not scared,” Wendell asserted.

“What upsets, annoys, and frustrates you about him?”

“Some of his choices. Some of the ways he handles things. The way he … numbs out. He has problems with drugs,” Wendell sighed. Now this was getting personal.

Even though Silvia had her eyes on Wendell during this whole conversation, her pen was flying across the pages of her notebook.

“He’s an–”

Whatever she was going to say next was brought to an abrupt end by the glass window shattering behind her and the bullet that blasted through her back and chest. Blood sprayed out from her mouth as she coughed wetly.

Wendell screamed and flung himself out of the line of fire. He crashed hard onto the wooden floor and scrambled behind the couch, using it as a barrier.

When a second gunshot didn’t fire, Wendell slowly rose back to his full height.

The light left Silvia’s eyes, and she was silent. She was dead.

First Odd Todd. Now this!? Bodies were literally piling up around Wendell. He swore to himself in a shaky voice under his breath. His legs felt like jelly and both his heart was racing and his stomach was twisting.

The bloodied bullet glinted on the ground. Slowly, he pinched it in his fingers to hold it up for a closer look… only to feel like his fingers were burning off.

Yelping, he dropped the bullet and plunged his stinging fingers into his dead therapist’s cup of iced coffee. In seconds, they cooled off in the icy, sticky-sweet brew. Exhaling a long, shaky breath, Wendell unzipped the pillowcase of the pillow closest to him on the couch.

With his fingers encased in the “Live, Laugh, Love” printed thick fabric, he picked up the bullet and wiped it clean, smearing blood over “Love”.

The bullet had a wolf’s head carved into the tip and rune-like markings on the sides. He zipped it in the pillowcase to take back to the diner with him to show Dani. She’d know what this was.

Of course he didn’t bring his cell phone with him, and he swore to himself again.

Thankfully, there was an office phone, though, and Wendell had the numbers for Aurora’s personal phone and the diner where Dani worked memorized. He tried Aurora first, hoping and praying she’d answer a cold call from an unfamiliar number.

“Hello?” Her voice answered suspiciously after the fifth ring.

“Auri, it’s me! It’s Wen! Silvia’s d-dead, Auri. Someone sh-shot her,” Wendell stammered out. His face was burning now, and his throat was tightening like he was having an allergic reaction. He dropped the pillowcase with the bullet, and for a second, he swore the sensations ceased.

“Wen!? What?! Where are you!?” Aurora gasped.

“I was in therapy, and we were talking, and all of a sudden someone shot at us. The bullet went through the window and went through her, and now she’s dead, and I’m, I’m, I’m no-not dead. I… I …”

“I’m on it. Stay where you are,” Aurora said. “I have a plan.”

In what felt like minutes, Aurora was there.

“How many people knew you were meeting with this therapist?” Aurora asked as she hurried into the room. “It’s great that she has an individual practice and isn’t part of a huge group. Could you imagine if a whole waiting room of people heard what just happened?!”

“My boss at the elementary school, Principal Penman, referred me to her last month. She’d been taking case notes and was going to give Penman a report after a few of our sessions about if I was cleared to start for the new school year or not… oh my god. I can’t believe she’s dead.” Wendell sank onto the couch. He dropped his head into his hands.

“Hey, hey, stay with me, Wen,” Aurora sat next to him and hugged an arm around him. She rubbed his back soothingly. “Did anyone know you were meeting with her today?”

“Just you and Dani.”

“Okay, good. Let’s see if she wrote it down in her appointment book.” Aurora pulled on a pair of thick yellow gloves. “Hey!” She said when she noticed Wendell looking at them. “I was at home. I didn’t have time to stop at the store for other gloves. I never used these either, so we should be good. Don’t be so anxious.”

“Auri. She was shot to death right in front of me less than an hour ago, and Odd Todd’s dead body is in my garage. If there’s ever an appropriate time to be anxious, that time is now.”

“Fair point,” Aurora said brightly. “Don’t be anxious about my dishwashing gloves. Better?”

The rubber squeaked as she quickly paged through the appointment book. “Whew. Looks like she didn’t write down that you were meeting today. Good. One less thing we’ll need to get rid of.”

“But … that…” Wendell said lamely, pointing to her notebook that somehow managed to escape blood splatter.

“We’ll rip the page up and dump it in the toilet,” Aurora gestured to the piece of paper in the therapist’s notebook. “She didn’t even finish writing it.” Aurora tore the page out. Using a pair of scissors from the therapist’s desk, she cut it into itty bits of flushable confetti.

“You have to call DONHE,” Wendell said in dawning horror. “Because if DONHE don’t clean this up, the human cops will be here and their investigation will–”

“I’ve got it. I’ll tell Aoife I woke up with a premonition and decided to check things out here before calling her. They have no reason not to believe me. Plus with how much good my grandma did for them over the years before she died, they probably see all these cases I’ve been helping out with as carrying on the good Dark family name,” Aurora said kindly.

“You can also control the narrative,” Wendell said as the happy realization dawned on him.

“DONHE inquiries are thorough. I can scope out what she was up to. Maybe some of her clients were up to some dodgy things. This might not be about you at all, Wen,” Aurora said thoughtfully.

“For now, I want to get Dani’s opinion on this,” Wendell picked up the pillowcase and shook it. “The bullet is in here, and it’s not normal.”

“Can I see it?”

Wendell passed Aurora the pillowcase.

“What do you say about getting together in a few hours? My and Dani’s apartment?” Aurora beamed.

* * *

“So you know how to wine and dine hellhounds, but not what this is?” Dani asked, holding up the bullet.

“If I did, would I be here asking you about it?” Wendell sighed.

“Okay, okay. Sometimes I forget you’re kind of new to this stuff,” Dani said.

“What? Like I wasn’t born into four hundred generations of purebred were-cats?” Wendell deadpanned.

“This isn’t an ordinary bullet,” Dani started.

“As the wolf shape and symbols carved into it suggest,” Wendell groaned.

“This belongs to a monster hunter. So either your therapist did some dirty deeds that caught up with her… or they were after you,” Dani said darkly.

“Me!?” Wendell yelped.

“They can’t be that good of a monster hunter if they missed,” Aurora said reassuringly.

“I don’t think they did,” Dani said heavily.

Aurora gasped. “It’s a warning?”

“No. It’s a threat,” Wendell said grimly. “Whoever it is, is telling me they know who I am, and that they’re, I don’t know, watching me? Waiting for me to … do something?”

“I did some digging, Wen, and if it helps, they’re not specifically a werewolf hunter. But they’re definitely a monster hunter,” Aurora said.

“Oh, great, that’s better,” Wendell said sarcastically.

“It might be!” Aurora said. “Those rune marks on that bullet? They’re not just for show. A certain family likes to use them.”

“Must be a nice family. The apple pie when you move in next door type, huh?” Dani smiled sweetly.

“I wouldn’t be so quick to knock on their door for a cup of sugar,” Aurora warned. “They’re the Sword family.”

“Shit!” Dani hissed. “How’d you find that out, Auri?”

“A succubus friend owed me a favor,” Aurora said.

“I can’t believe their last name is literally Sword,” Wendell shook his head.

“Yeah, it’s too bad a vampire didn’t get you first, Mr. Batty,” Aurora sassed.

“The Sword family has been around for ages, so be careful, Wen,” Dani said. “My gram warned me about them when I was just a kit. Rumor has it that the first Sword, Valiant, defended a king from an army of inhuman beasts. He was promoted to leader of the king’s guard and went on to teach all of his descendants the way of paranormal warfare.”

“Great. So they’ve been at it for thousands of years,” Wendell groaned.

“Not the one coming after you,” Aurora said gently. “He or she is human. And maybe they’re only fifteen or sixteen and new to it all. Maybe they really did miss accidentally.”

“Or maybe they’re in their sixties and on the verge of retiring!” Dani added.

“However old they are, they still want to kill me,” Wendell said heavily. “And next time, they might not miss.”

“What do you want to do?” Aurora asked.

“I have to tell Cayden and the Wolfinger-Hedlund pack. They might be next,” Wendell said darkly.

* * *

Wendell hadn’t seen the Wolfinger-Hedlund pack alphas in years. The last time they spoke was during a werewolf council meeting with the three packs in the area to discuss lone wolves requesting to join their packs.

Lupa Wolfinger-Hedlund was grieving the loss of her third stillborn and didn’t say a word. Dacian, her husband, grieving in his own way, spent the whole time raging against how much he hated lone wolves and how there would never be a place for them among the Wolfinger-Hedlund pack.

Their bubbly ten-year-old son Stevie spent the whole time clowning around, trying to lighten the mood.

Ultimately, the alphas from the DeWolfe-Rivers pack took them in.

As far as Wendell knew, Lupa still hadn’t had another baby, and Dacian still hated lone wolves with a vengeance.

For an ordinary werewolf, showing up at another werewolf’s packlands unannounced and without a tribute was unheard of. For an alpha, there was a little more wiggle room in terms of when it was acceptable to show up.

The Sword family of monster hunters abruptly showing up on the scene and firing silver bullets was one of those times.

Still, Wendell baked one of his famous bundt cakes with a layer of homemade caramel sauce for good measure.

Wendell rang the doorbell of the stately manor house. He didn’t expect Lupa or Dacian to answer the door. More likely, it’d be a lower-ranking werewolf or one of their non-werewolf attendants. What he didn’t expect was a certain little boy to answer the door.

Stevie was still small in stature with a mop of long, curly hair. His orange-brown eyes lit up in surprise.

“Wen!” He tackled Wendell with one of his infamous super hugs.

He had to be at least twelve or thirteen now, but he looked exactly like he did back when he was ten.

“I’m soooo happy you came. You brought cake too! Do you still make that caramel sauce in it?” Stevie swooned.

“Yeah,” Wendell smiled, “I actually wanted to see if I could talk to your mom and dad for a minute.”

“Oh, they’re not here,” Stevie said simply.

“If it’s not a good time, I could come back later.”

“No, no, stay, stay!” Stevie pleaded. “Cayden’s here too! Why didja come separately anyways? Was it ‘cuz you were baking?”

The other werewolf packs in the area didn’t exactly know about Wendell’s pending divorce.

Stevie eagerly took the cake from Wendell and ushered him into the front hallway.

Summoned by the sound of his name, Cayden darted from one of the other rooms branching off the entryway.

“Wen!? What are you doing here?” Cayden’s face broke into a grin.

“I wanted to talk with Lupa and Dacian about… something,” Wendell said, not wanting to alarm Stevie.

“Hey, Stevie, I’m going to talk to my husband for a minute, okay?” Cayden said with one of his winning smiles. He gently interlocked his arm with Wendell.

“Mkay! I’m gonna put this into the kitchen. I’ll be back in a sec!” Stevie bounded off, humming to himself.

“What are you doing here?” Wendell hissed.

“The lone wolf situation is getting worse,” Cayden said as he steered them out of the room. “There was one especially that was sniffing around our packlands. He was trying to pass on some sort of message, but something spooked him. I already went to the DeWolfe-Rivers packlands and they saw him too. I came here to see if Lupa and Dacian saw him as well.”

“Was he sick and starving?” Wendell asked.

“Yeah, he looked like he was on death’s door,” Cayden said solemnly. “Why? Did you see him too?”

Wendell nodded. “All he said to me was ‘they’re coming’ and ‘she’s coming’. Not much to work off. What did Lupa and Dacian say when you asked them?”

“I didn’t,” Cayden sighed. “I didn’t because they’re not here.”

“Is there some other werewolf council meeting happening somewhere?” Wendell frowned.

“No, they’re–”

“I couldn’t resist trying a bite. It was sooooo good!” Stevie gushed as he bounded into the room. “Sorry if I interrupted you guys! I followed the sounds of your voices.”

“I was just telling Wen–”

“Where my parents are?” Stevie cut Cayden off. “It’s okay, Cayden. Everyone is gonna find out soon anyway,” Stevie said gloomily.

Wendell casually wrenched his arm free from Cayden and put some space between them. A look of hurt raced across Cayden’s face.

“Lupa and Dacian…” Cayden started. Stevie nodded at him to continue. “They attacked and killed three humans. They’re in DONHE’s werewolf containment unit. Stevie’s interim alpha of the Wolfinger-Hedlunds.”

Wendell gasped. Being incarcerated by DONHE could be a death sentence.

“One of the humans was pretending to be a DONHE agent. Can you imagine?” Stevie said. “Kinda ballsy of them to come onto our packlands like that.”

“What do you think he was after?” Wendell asked.

“I never said the agent was a ‘he’,” Stevie said tauntingly, “You saw him too, didn’t you, Wen?”

“I did. He acted like he was taking over as my new case manager,” Wendell said.

“So did you see the same lone wolf that Cayden and I saw, too? He was really messed up. All yellow and bony with a plague cough. He was skulking around here and supposedly said he was going to talk to a DONHE agent about something that needed to be stopped. As if they’d do anything for the likes of him,” Stevie said, wrinkling his nose like he smelled something bad.

“What happened to him?” Wendell asked. The lone wolf possibly having a message was something new entirely.

“Somebody shot him right in front of our house!” Stevie exclaimed. “It was really loud and bloody! It was nothing like what you see in the movies.”

“You’ll be okay, Stevie,” Wendell said, letting the boy tackle him into another tight hug. “Cayden and I are going to look out for you. Anything you need, just say the word, alright?”

“Thanks, Wen. You’re both the absolute best!” Stevie enthused.

Cayden’s cell phone rang. “Hang on. I have to get this. I’ll be right back!” Cayden dashed outside as he answered the call.

Stevie broke his hug the second Cayden was out of ear and eyeshot.

“Don’t tell Cayden this, but I was looking around the lone wolf after he was shot. The bullet had a wolf head and markings like runes on the sides of it, the kind a werewolf hunter might use.” Stevie whispered.

“He also had this sticking out of his pocket,” Stevie passed over a torn note. “Promise me you’ll be careful, Wen! I get the feeling there are some really bad people, and they’re closer than we think. One Boy Scout to another, we need to be prepared.”