The reports filtered in to the inspector’s office at an almost leisurely pace. Taken separately, the bloody deaths of the big dog and young pregnant woman weren’t related. But Robert had seen the girl’s autopsy report and the dog’s necropsy summary. Both had died of puncture wounds around the neck. It was a pattern he’d seen nearly three decades before – a pattern of damage inflicted by a werewolf restraint, a device he’d found around the neck of an older man who had looked panicked even in death.
The two deaths, added to the slaughter of the homeless, spelled serious trouble. Something very terrible was about to happen, and he would stop it from infecting his city or die in the attempt.
Robert thought hard about his next move. He had a lot of options, but most of them were more dangerous than helpful. And only one would deliver this beloved New Orleans from the terror that was the pack of Naturals led by the Patriarch.
He needed Superman. Walter had never called him back, and it was past time to try an end run. He had to be direct.
He tapped the intercom. “Melody? I need a phone number, please.”
“Oh captain, my captain, I exist only to serve.”
“Now is not the best time for such humor, Sergeant Brennan. I need the room of Clark Kent and Lois Lane at the Omni Royal, please.”
Melody’s voice immediately flipped to a formal tone. “Right away, sir. Any particular message?”
“No. I need to speak directly to Monsieur Kent.”
“Consider it done.”
In less than a minute, his phone rang. “Monsieur Kent? This is Robert Gautreaux.”
A woman’s slightly gruff alto voice answered. “Sorry, Inspector, Clark isn’t here right now. Can I help?”
He hesitated, then decided that she’d work harder to find the hero if she understood the urgency. “I doubt that you have learned of this, as it has not been released to the media. There has been a massacre of homeless by werewolves in an abandoned warehouse on the south side of the city. I am morally certain that the Naturals led by the Patriarch are responsible for this atrocity.”
There was silence on the phone for a long moment, then she said, “I’m afraid we have a problem.”
“Oh?”
“Yes.” She hesitated again, then said, “Superman is in Metropolis with blood and tissue samples of a werewolf. He’ll be working with a scientist there for several more hours. And there’s no way to speed up the process.”
Robert muttered something quite rude in French, then said, “I must apologize for my poor choice of words. We do not know where the Patriarch’s pack is located, and we need to find them as soon as possible. If they relocate before we do find them, more innocents may die before we discover their whereabouts.” He sighed deeply. “At this moment, I know not what to do.”
“Then let me help.”
“You? Help? How could you – no! Madame Kent, this is very dangerous! It is why I need the Superman!”
The calm but firm voice in his ear soothed him. “You don’t have him, but you do have me. Now tell me what you need done.”
He ran his hand over his face. “I do not believe that the Superman would think it wise of me to involve you so directly.”
“This isn’t his call, Inspector, it’s mine. I can offer logistical support your department doesn’t have. And if all you need is someone to track one of the packs, I can do that with my newly enhanced smeller. I wouldn’t have to put myself in the line of fire.”
What Lois said was true, but—
He put the phone receiver on his desk for a long moment and thought hard. He thought about how difficult it would be to find these bloodthirsty werewolves without help.
He thought about how angry Superman would be when he discovered what Lois Lane was proposing.
He thought about the woman whose life he’d tried – and failed – to save when he’d killed that werewolf twenty-eight years ago.
He thought about how much it would hurt when Superman pulled his arms off.
He thought about the bodies he and his people had helped to transport to the morgue so they could be reassembled for identification and burial.
The last thought tipped the scales for him. He picked up the phone receiver and said, “Please meet me in half an hour at the same Jimmy J’s where we met before. I will take you to the assembly area, from which we will launch our operation.”
“Can we make it about forty-five minutes? I have a quick errand to run. Got to buy something very important.”
“Very well. Please do not be late. We must move as soon as possible.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll be the good-looking tourist eating a double-meat sandwich.”
Robert sighed and hung up. He raised his head to see Melody standing in the doorway. “How long have you been listening?”
Her expression was as hard and fierce as he had ever seen. “Long enough to know that you’re going to paint a bullseye on yourself again.” She stared at him as if daring him to disagree with her. “Anyway, I’m coming with you. You’ll need someone to watch your back.”
“But—”
“No buts, you big he-bear! I’m going!” She spun away from the door and stomped down the hall.
Robert shook his head in wonder. Why did the women in his life insist to willingly approach mortal danger and tweak its nose?
*****
Superman paced in front of the mass spectrometer in Bernie’s lab, obviously trying not to ask yet again how much longer it was going to take, but Bernie anticipated him. “About twenty-five more minutes, then anywhere from fifteen minutes to an hour in the DNA analysis phase, then another two hours for sample comparison and exposure to your aura, so no, you can’t leave yet.”
Superman stopped pacing and turned. “I didn’t say a word.”
“You didn’t have to. Your body language is screaming that you want to get out of here and go back to New Orleans.”
“I do. I really, really do.” He wrung his hands together. “You know what will happen if I leave Lois alone too long.”
Bernie huffed with frustration. “No, please, tell me what will happen.”
“She’ll find something to get in trouble over and put herself in danger and I have no idea where she’ll be if she leaves the hotel room and—”
“Stop!” Bernie snapped out. “I didn’t think you wanted to go back for some smooth jazz or Delta blues.”
Superman waved his hand. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Lois is just so unpredictable – I never know what she’s going to get mad about or where she gets some of her amazing leaps of logic or intuition or just lucky guesses and – and it scares me.”
Bernie stood and put a hand on the hero’s shoulder. “I understand. But you need to be careful how you express that – or who hears you express it, especially in the way you just did.”
“Huh?”
He leaned closer and lowered his voice. “You sound exactly like a man afraid for his wife.”
Bernie had expected that Superman would stand straighter and wipe the worry from his face, assuming his usual “disinterested superhero” mien. Instead, he turned to the scientist and kneaded his hands in front of himself. “That’s exactly what I am right now. I need your help.” His expression was almost desperate. “Please.”
It was that last “please” that almost broke Bernie’s heart. If I didn’t already know The Secret, he thought, it wouldn’t be a secret anymore.
He put his hand on Superman’s hands and stilled them. “Fretting about this process won’t make anything go faster. Why don’t you call Perry White and fill him in? I’m sure he’d love to know what’s going on.”
“Oh, yeah, that’s sure to go well. ‘Hi, Perry, it’s Clark. No, Lois is still in New Orleans, trying not to turn into a werewolf. How do I know that? Because I’m here with Bernie Klein, who’s trying to find a cure for her. I’ll be helping him here for a few more hours.’ I guess you don’t know Perry well at all.”
Bernie frowned as fiercely as he could, which, he knew, wasn’t very fiercely. Although he tried. “I told you in the beginning that this is going to take as long as it takes. Now you can either give yourself a super-ulcer, something I can’t treat, by the way, or you can use this time to be productive.” He pointed at a wall phone behind the hero. “Make the call, Clark.”
Superman stared back for a long breath, then smiled thinly and nodded. “You’ve been taking Mad Dog lessons in secret, haven’t you?”
“Yes. Now make that call.”
Superman saluted the scientist. “Yes, sir!”
*****
The Patriarch sat away from the rest of the pack, thinking hard, analyzing the threats his own now faced. They had risked exposure with the raid on the homeless squatters. None had escaped, but there was no way the policeman – Robert Gautreaux – would fail to deduce the identity of the perpetrators. The filling meal had calmed them, but Lillian’s sudden and violent death had spread confusion and fear throughout the pack.
Over and above that, he wasn’t sure he believed Andre’s story. It had sounded too pat, too rehearsed. He had no corroborating witnesses, none to verify his story. And Andre’s ambition was plain to see for those willing to look deeply enough. Oh, he couched it in terms of protection of the pack and support for the Patriarch, but ultimately it was the Patriarch’s position he craved.
Roger, his other lieutenant, was no different. He went about it in a more political way, but he also lusted for the top leadership position. It was a toss-up as to which one held the greater sway, and if the Patriarch were to allow them to battle each other, it would split the pack. Between the exit of the loser’s followers and the loss of some of his faithful as a consequence of not controlling his lieutenants, he wouldn’t have enough strength remaining to accomplish his goals.
A similar outcome was highly probable if he were to make an example of one or the other. He was certain he could overcome either man alone, but if they were to join forces and battle him, they might defeat him, even with his special advantage. None of the others could assume the half-way form, the mystic beast shape, and he’d been careful to allow no one in the pack to discover his hidden talent. He was confident that he could kill either man, but again, that eventuality would split the pack, this time into three factions, among whom would be no peace. The humans would see the three groups fighting an open war and would surely retaliate with overwhelming force, something that would kill many if not most of his werewolves and possibly wipe them all out.
None of this took into account Arthur’s small pack. Under other circumstances they’d be of no real danger to him, but as things now stood, Lillian’s death – allegedly at their paws – had introduced yet another factor in the emotional caldron of the pack. Before they had been a bother, a mere irritant, but now they were viewed as a viable threat, one which required swift and thorough vengeance. And the Patriarch was certain that neither Andre nor Roger had not foreseen this outcome, one which was eroding each man’s support a little bit every day. Roger had to make his move soon, and he wasn’t ready. Andre wasn’t either, but he was so hungry for power that he might move anyway.
The situation was untenable and he saw no clear path to victory. His next step, though, was apparent to him. He needed to either neutralize Arthur’s pack or destroy them utterly. And there was surely a way to lure them to a battleground of his choosing.
Yes, yes, he could visualize it now. McDonough Memorial Park would be ideal. Bernice and Allan could lay a scent trail to lead Arthur’s pack to their deaths. The abandoned apartment building across Alix street would shield them from the humans in the area, as would the small stands of trees at the park’s corners. They would die as prey, and the Patriarch would remain in control. The victory might even convince Roger and Andre to bide their time and wait to attempt to unseat him.
He smiled at the thought of the power he’d reclaim within the pack and their redoubled willingness to follow him.
Perhaps it was better that he couldn’t know that a wild card in the form of yet another player would soon crash the party.
*****
Lois motioned to the inspector behind her to join her. “This is where Gawain died,” she said. “I’m picking up two more scents, but I can’t tell who they are.”
“Are they werewolf scents?”
“Yes. They have the same flavor – Superman called it a musk – that Jane’s scent carries. I’m also picking up what I believe is fear from the one I think is the younger one.” She knelt and pointed. “They came from that alley, carrying Gawain to this point. I think they were going to interrogate him, but he changed and chose to die.” She stood and wiped her hands. “They probably didn’t get any information from him.”
“Can you follow the trail of the two who left the area?”
She nodded. “Yes. For a while, anyway. Depends on where they went and how many pepper shakers they sprinkled over their back trail.”
“Then let us do so while the sun is still high. I estimate that we have perhaps five hours before they might leave their lair and venture out to feed again.”
Lois shuddered. “Then let’s find them as soon as we can. You want to signal your team?”
He lifted his radio. “Able to Baker. Following trail. Do not contact with voice unless attacked.”
“Understood,” the voice returned from the radio speaker. “We have you in sight. Watch for sentries. If we need to contact you, we’ll double-click. Baker out.”
“Understood. Able out.”
He gestured for Lois to precede him. She picked up the small carry bag she’d brought with her and set off down the narrow street. “Just how secure are your communications, Inspector?”
“The Patriarch has never used electronic communication technology before,” Robert said quietly, “but there is always a first time. As to security, we are on a non-police frequency not assigned by the FCC to any person, business type, or group. There is only a small chance that they will hear us coming.”
“Let’s hope he’s running true to form.”
Robert nodded once and gestured for Lois to lead off.
She took him down the narrow street to an intersection, looked both ways, then stopped and frowned. Robert moved just behind her. “Is there a problem? Have you lost the trail?”
“No. In fact, it’s almost too clear.” She inhaled deeply and looked left. “I don’t think they took any real precautions to hide their scent trail.” She turned and looked at him. “You guys may be walking into a trap meant for Arthur’s band.”
Robert lifted his AR-15 assault rifle. “Then we will have to shoot very straight and very quickly.”
“It might have to be real quick,” she returned. “I’m picking up vague scents of what I think are Turned Ones.”
“Arthur’s pack?”
“I hope that’s the only other pack in the city. Gonna get crowded otherwise.” Lois looked pointedly at the radio at his belt. “You are going to warn them, aren’t you?”
He paused as if thinking, then nodded. “You are correct.” He lifted the radio to his mouth and pressed the ‘talk’ button. “Able to Baker. Possible ambush ahead. Go on highest alert. Do you copy?”
As soon as he released the button, “click-click” issued from the speaker. Lois nodded. They seemed to understand that the more noise they made, the more of them might die.
He nodded to the street. “Please proceed, Lois. And please remember that you are a non-combatant. I cannot risk a civilian being injured during an unofficial police operation.”
She smirked at him. “You mean the chief of police doesn’t know you’re on a werewolf hunt with a dozen other officers?”
“He does not. And I must request most forcefully that there be no press coverage of this incident, irrespective of the outcome.”
She gestured to him to follow and she started off down the rough sidewalk. “I can’t make that promise, Inspector. I’ll have to talk to my partner and get the final word from Perry.”
“Ah, the esteemed editor Monsieur LeBlanc. I will accept his judgement on whether or not his beloved Daily Planet will be recognized as the nation’s premier source of information on werewolves.”
She threw a glare at him over her shoulder. “You’ve made your point, okay? Let’s focus on finding these murderous maniacs.”
He didn’t respond. Lois kept testing the air around her with her nose as she slowly walked up the street. She could see a small wooded area ahead that would provide cover for a meeting – or for an ambush.
She froze as she saw two men and a woman sneaking along the street side of the woods.
She sensed Robert freeze behind her. The three sneaks – who moved with alarming agility and stealth – faded through the perimeter of the woods and disappeared without looking back at the small armed group approaching their position.
She slowly moved back against an abandoned building, the detective right behind her. “Robert!” she hissed. “I think those woods up there are the site we’re looking for.”
He lifted his radio to his mouth. “Possible target site spotted. Close up and be silent.”
Lois turned to him and whispered, “Tell me you’re not going in through those trees!”
“No, that would be suicide.” He pointed to a building on the left of the woods. “That is an abandoned apartment building. The second and third floor apartments have balconies. We will infiltrate through the building and place the Patriarch’s band within enfilade fire.”
“In what?”
“Enfilade. It means we will be able to fire on them from more than one direction, and they will not find cover from fire on the left without exposing themselves to fire on the right.” He gave her a sardonic look. “Does the Madame not approve?”
She frowned at him. “Fine. You know what you’re doing. Mind if I watch?”
“Whatever for?”
“For the story I may or may not write.”
He listened as the rest of his team approached from behind. After a long moment, he shrugged. “I cannot stop you without risk of alerting our targets to our approach. Only – please, I beg of you, do not expose yourself to danger.”
She lifted her eyebrows in mock surprise. “Who, me? Danger and I are complete strangers. Never met before. Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Robert obviously didn’t believe her. Nor did the thirtyish woman behind him. She looked ready to shoot Lois in the head if she did anything that put her boss in peril.
Lois wondered if he was just her boss or if there was something else going on between them. Or, maybe the woman wanted something to be going on and didn’t want to lose her chance at Robert because of Lois.
It didn’t matter at this point. “Let me make sure they don’t have sentries in the building, okay? I can sniff them out before you run into trouble.”
He hesitated, then shook his head. “Non. Let us turn into the next alley on the left. It will lead us directly to the apartments.” He turned to the woman and whispered, “Melody, you and Samuel will follow me. Antoine, you lead the rest through as soon as I signal you that we are safe. Lois, please stay with Antoine’s group for now.”
Lois nodded back at him. For the moment, she’d do what she’d been told. At least now she knew the name of the woman who’d shot ice daggers at Lois with her eyes.
*****
Arthur looked around for a possible escape route and saw only angry werewolves in human form. Perhaps following that spoor wasn’t the best idea he’d had lately.
Lancelot edged closer to Arthur and muttered, “I think we might have a problem.”
“Just the two of us or the entire pack?”
“All of us, Arthur. Jane included.”
Arthur nodded slightly. “I agree. What was the first indication of our peril?”
“The toothy snarls on all of those Naturals.”
“Ah, yes, we do seem to be totally surrounded, do we not?”
Guinevere backhanded Arthur on the upper arm. “We are in mortal danger and you two are joking? You are both insane!”
He didn’t react to the slap. “I was under the impression that insanity was a prerequisite for leadership of such a band as ours.”
Guinevere ground her teeth but didn’t speak. Then the ranks of Naturals facing them parted and the Patriarch stepped into the circle facing Arthur. “I presume that you call yourself Arthur?”
Arthur nodded. “I answer to that name, yes.”
The big man thundered, “Do you know why you were led to this place?”
Arthur slowly looked around at the angry expressions on the werewolves facing them, then said, “I do not believe that we have been invited to afternoon tea.”
The Patriarch, stared at him for two long breaths, then his face slowly morphed into a grin. “Under other circumstances that might be humorous, my counterpart. But I am certain that you understand why none of us will laugh with you today.”
Lancelot lifted his hands. “Arthur might know why you’re planning to destroy us, but I assure you that I do not. Please enlighten us.”
That statement set the pack of Naturals off. They started shuffling in place and growling audibly. Two shifted to wolf form and laid their ears back.
The Patriarch turned and raised his hands. “Hold! Hold, I say!” He waited until the pack quieted down, then turned back to Arthur and said, “Lillian came to you with an offer of truce. She came as a gravid female, protected by the ancient law which forbids the death of one carrying an unborn pup. Yet you murdered her!”
“NO!”
The scream came from behind Arthur. He glanced over his shoulder to see Jane stalking toward the Patriarch. She passed Lancelot’s right shoulder and stopped just out of the Natural pack leader’s reach.
Jane spread her feet and faced the big man with fingers curled as if they were claws. “I tell you this now as under the yew! Lancelot, Theresa, and I interviewed Lillian together! She told us of your offer of truce and gave her our response! We left her, bound by the same apparatus with which you bound Gawain of our pack, but when we left her she was alive and healthy! And the three of us remained together until we returned to our lair! None of us took her life!”
A young female shouted, “Then what happened to her?”
“You are Bernice, yes?” Jane asked.
“I am! And I demand to know what happened to my friend!”
“We don’t know what happened to her, Bernice,” Jane said. “By the sacred yew tree, she was alive and healthy when we left her. Until this moment, I did not know she was dead.”
“You expect us to believe that! Why should we accept your vow? You violated the covenant and killed a pregnant werewolf!”
“No! We didn’t! I swear it!”
“You will not see a Tribunal! You will all die!”
“Will you listen to me? Just for a minute? Please!”
Bernice was so angry that she was spitting at Jane instead of yelling at her. The rest of the pack began edging toward Arthur’s small band in an almost Brownian motion. The Patriarch put his hands on his hips and allowed a thin smile to show. If nothing stopped them, they would rip the pack of Turned Ones to small pieces within moments.
Then a woman’s voice called out from above them. “Hey! Hey, you clowns! Shaddup a minute!”
The members of Arthur’s band snapped their eyes to a second floor balcony behind the Naturals where a young brunette woman leaned on the railing. She was wearing a pair of what looked like tight red Spandex bikini shorts and a dark blue elastic bandeau top. A few of the Naturals followed Teresa’s or Guinevere’s line of sight and also stared. Slowly the others followed suit.
All but the Patriarch. His smile vanished and he stared at Arthur. “If this is some trick you are attempting—”
Arthur pointed over the Patriarch’s head and said, “I have no idea who that is.”
When she had the attention of both packs of werewolves, she waved gaily and smiled. Then she vaulted over the railing and dropped more than twenty feet to the grass below and landed in a crouch. She straightened and smiled again. “How about that?” she all but burbled. “I sure stuck that landing, didn’t I?”
Jane suddenly leaned over Arthur’s shoulder and whispered, “That’s Lois Lane!”
“What? But how – she can’t be! Normal humans can’t make that leap!”
“She’s Turned,” insisted Jane. “I don’t know who or when, but Lois Lane is now one of us!”
Still smiling, the brunette walked through the outer perimeter of Naturals and headed directly toward Arthur. She stopped facing him, with her back to the Patriarch. “Hi again, folks. Looks like you have a slight problem here.”
Arthur didn’t answer. He saw Lois before him, he’d seen her leap from a second story balcony, but he didn’t quite believe his eyes. Then Lois turned and said, “Hi, Teresa. Sorry, I still don’t have any original ‘wild’ jokes. I guess that’s just too easy a pun.”
“What is this talk of wild jokes!” the Patriarch growled.
Lois turned to face him. “Oh, just jokes on her last name.”
“Last name? Werewolves do not have last names!”
Lois crossed her arms. “She does. It’s Wilding, in case you’re interested.”
The big man smiled cruelly. “I am not interested. Please destroy this one, Bernice.”
With a snarl, Bernice took two steps and swung a roundhouse punch at Lois’ face. Lois dropped to a crouch to dodge the punch and thrust out her left hand into Bernice’s lower belly. Bernice folded like a novice boxer hit in the stomach and dropped to the ground holding her abdomen and gasping for breath.
“Nathan!” snapped the Patriarch.
A medium-sized man ran at Lois with lethal intent. At the last moment, Lois grasped his outstretched hands and turned to throw him over her hip to the ground. He bounced up and attacked a second time.
Lois’ left round kick caught him in the side of the head and staggered him. Almost before Arthur could realize what had happened, she turned and hit Nathan with a spinning back fist. The blow appeared to break his jaw and he fell to the ground near Bernice without moving.
Jane took a slow step past Arthur. She spoke slowly and deliberately. “Lois? Have you been practicing really hard?”
Lois brushed her bangs away from her eyebrows and grinned back. “Yes, actually, but I’m really glad for the advantages you gave me.” As Jane goggled at her, Lois added, “You still licking your fingers?”
Jane, thought Arthur. Jane had Turned Lois without realizing it. She must have licked her fingers and touched one of Lois’ open wounds before their first meeting. There were no visible bite marks on her body – and Lois wasn’t wearing enough clothing to hide such marks.
Apparently Jane had also infected Lois Lane with terminal insanity. There was no other explanation for her behavior.
He wondered if Superman would blame him for her death.
