I took the apartment building stairs down to the ground floor; not
the quickest move but quiet enough I thought I wouldn’t have to
worry about too many people hearing me leave. Even if Percy and
Gevaudan knew I was leaving, and Red would probably figure out quick
if she checked, The Lady still had some security in the building and
I didn’t want to alert all of them at once.
As it were, I was lucky The Lady seemed to have at least some
aversion to modern methods just in how she went about her business.
Even walking the apartment halls and down the steps I saw very little
in the way of security cameras, with just the occasionally token
CCTV; half of them without the light on front even on. The small
comfort that she probably didn’t track my phone or have some sort
of bug on me at all times more than enough at the moment.
My car where I left it, I’d barely settled behind the wheel before
the creeping hand of doubt began to settle in. All confidence in a
destination melting away as I pulled my phone out and was halfway
through typing in the name of Samuel’s hospital.
Samuel was working, that probably should have been the biggest issue
for wanting to visit him, but I wasn’t exactly sure what he thought
about me at the moment.
I didn’t know if he was mad at me for how I’d acted earlier, but
I couldn’t really say it wouldn’t have been justified. I’d made
him tell me about my mom, he’d told me more true things about her
than anyone ever had, and at the same time…
She’d hurt him.
She’d hurt him, she’d hurt my dad, and I’d dragged that up
again just because I wanted to know about her. He’d stormed away
the moment he’d finished telling me everything he knew, and I
didn’t know what that meant. My hands, for a moment, fumbling to
the vague impression left in the pocket of my leather jacket of the
Polaroid I’d stolen from Elizabeth. The temptation to take it out
once more only pushed down by the realization of who I could
talk to about this.
I needed to talk to someone who I could trust not to tell The Lady,
who understood what I was risking, and why.
Maybe I could thank my grandma for giving me that answer.
Another address plugged in from a text Allie had sent, and I started
on the road and into the outskirts of Richmond. Sparser, more family
housing, and the hallmark of anywhere in the south with Churches on
every street. My car stopping in the parking lot of a midsized one,
relatively dark even this early at night, with just a few lights on
in one corner room.
Any concern I might have had on where to go swiftly put aside as I
walked around the building, a small house a stone’s throw away with
a few lights still peaking through their curtains. The brief thought
of “that where he lives?” quickly followed by the admittance of,
“guess it makes sense for a priest” as I walked up.
My feet creaking on the stairs and old boards of the porch, hand
raising to the ornate doorbell, and my hesitance to press the button
stopped by the sound of someone moving on the other side of the door.
An old book creaked closed, half-dropped on a table, a man groaning
as he rose, footsteps approaching the door. The brief silence that
came followed by Arthur laughing as he announced, “I heard you out
there. May I ask if you’re in need of help? I can’t keep coming
to every study session and answering your disagreements.”
I blinked a moment, not sure how to respond before admitting, “need
to talk to someone about something, and it was either you, a guy I’m
pretty sure might be mad at me, or calling up someone who’s already
stressed about what’s going on.”
Arthur made a choking noise I couldn’t quite tell if it was choking
on something or trying to avoid saying something more. The door in
front of me near slammed open, a chain catching it before the man
fumbled with the switch and stepped aside.
My uncle looked almost disheveled in the doorway, the first few
buttons of his clergy shirt undone with the sleeves rolled to the
elbow. His dark red hair ragged, unkempt and a little spiked, like
he’d suddenly stopped halfway through fixing it, and a thin
five-o’clock shadow across his chin. The man wide-eyed as he stared
me down before quickly shaking the expression away and stepping
aside. The scent of incense and old books hanging to him, as well as
a distant smell of lemon cleaner and bleach.
“Please, come in, I wasn’t expecting you,” the man quickly
muttered, letting me step past him before looking onto the yard. His
face almost disappointed as he near whispered, “Cynthia didn’t
come?”
He carefully closed and locked the door behind us, and I watched him
while I said, “she’s not staying with me, and I just need to talk
about something. I um… I brought you dinner, I guess.”
I held up the bag Percy had packed for me, as much as I’d planned
it for Samuel, and Arthur nodded as he gently took it from me and
glanced inside. A small smile crossing his lips as he admitted, “I
did forget to go shopping today, thank you.” The man clearing his
throat before asking, “you make this? You didn’t need to, I
just-”
“Friend of mine, Percy,” I interrupted, laughing a moment before
agreeing, “you can go heat it up, I’ll just… you mind if I sit
down?”
“Please do, I won’t be long. Make yourself at home,” the man
agreed, gesturing me towards the room as a whole while he stepped
into the kitchen nearby.
A simple living room, there was a nice looking couch and an old chair
with ottoman with a coffee table between them, a few bookshelves of
formal and plain looking books and one of more personal choices, with
a fireplace on one wall and a rocking chair by the window. My first
instinct to go towards the couch before my eyes traced the wall once
more and I stopped in my tracks.
Pictures.
One wall of more… I didn’t want to say generic ones, but
newspapers and pictures of the church, but the others personal.
Family portraits, pictures of individual people, a cabin by the lake,
an old house in the suburbs. The most prominent two, both larger than
the others, showing two different families.
Arthur as he looked now with a woman and two boys in one, the group
packed tight together on a generic foggy looking background. The
other more interesting to me — a black and white photo of seven
people all gathered close together.
The two parents stood behind them, a tall man with strong jaw in a
suit and tie and a woman in a long dress in a fashion I was too
familiar with to not know was from the fifties. Two boys and two
girls on either side of a toddler sat on the grass, all wearing their
Sunday best and looking like they’d rather be anywhere else. My eye
tracing along the girls, the oldest maybe eight and the other, where
one the boys were probably older than all of them and the other boy
three or so.
The oldest girl… I didn’t want to say looked like me as a kid, I
didn’t look like a girl then, but she was what I should have
looked like. Her curly hair pulled into a high pony tail that puffed
awkwardly in the same way mine could in the humidity, the grainy
photo unable to hide the same jaw, the same nose, everything.
My hand fumbling with the photo in my pocket once more, finally
bringing it out and holding it up to compare the two. Eye looking
back and forth between the two even after I confirmed my suspicion,
as though if I stared long enough at how she looked at eight and
nineteen I could imagine her now. Maybe longer in the face, more gray
hair, a weathered look to her werewolves tended to take on, first
sign of wrinkles.
My thought not leaving me until I heard a dull laughter and Arthur
asked, “Elizabeth’s?”
I nearly jumped at that, a bolt of pain shooting through my body as I
half-collapsed forward into the couch. Arthur’s expression slight
concern before I admitted, “found it in her stuff.”
He hummed, setting his bowl and plate of cornbread on the coffee
table and pulling his chair over. A napkin hastily tucked in his
shirt collar before he admitted, “she hung out with the witch a
lot, her and her companion. They met when she was… oh, fifteen?
Sixteen? When she became a werewolf, went and got a job with The Lady
the next morning and a room in the Covenant.”
I nodded, afraid to pry and ruin
another conversation and at the same time asking, “I have other um…
there’s more than you and her in the picture. And
you have kids
too? Just more aunts and
uncles and cousins than I was expecting.”
Arthur flinched a moment, stirring some cheese into his chili before
he started, “well, don’t want to get too into my own family with
you now, but… well, I can tell you the rest. Food needs to cool
down anyway, nuked this by accident.” The man chuckling as he rose
to his feet and gestured me to follow. Walking me to a small
collection of photos as he started, “I’m the younger boy in the
photo, or… well, middle boy. The toddler there, John, he died a few
months after that photo — the whole family got hit with Polio, all
of us got sick but he didn’t make it. Fucking, vaccine was just
released around that time too, few more months and well…” the man
stopped a moment, his laugh dripping with sadness before he swept his
hand through the air, “well, you know Eva, that’s her there —
mom had her in ballet when she was young, she loved it up until she
started working for The Lady, lost her taste for it then. She was
pretty good at it though: started pointe at eleven, she was the lead
woman in Cinderella at fifteen a few months before she became a
werewolf.”
Arthur pointed to a black and white photo of a ballet cast all still
in their costumes; his finger tapping one figure I wouldn’t have
realized was my mom. My eye narrowing as I tried picking out any
details of how she looked then, what she wore, only able to vaguely
tell the style of her dress and the fact she did look like I had when
I became a werewolf the same age.
The man continuing on as he tapped a picture of what I assumed was
his father, posed in front of a large plane with several other men.
It not taking me long to recognize the jacket he wore as my uncle
explained, “that was dad during the war, he flew bombers back then.
I think he was… fifteenth? Something like that, though I ain’t
really too sure. He wasn’t exactly… well, don’t want to say he
was ashamed, but he didn’t like talking about his time in
the war. He’s the one who was a werewolf in the family — his
plane got shot down over France about a few months before the war
ended, where he met mom.” He laughed a moment, tapping a picture of
the woman sat painting in a back room, “she was resistance back
then, helped him out of the wreckage and he helped them out until he
could get back to his unit. They got married and he brought her back
to America when they finally got around to sending him home, Gabriel
got born a couple months after they got home.”
He was already tapping a picture of a teenager crouched next to a
large mutt when I interrupted him, still looking at the picture of my
grandfather as I told him, “I think I have that jacket, or… well,
my dad’s been fixing it. My mom give it to him I think? She inherit
it too?”
Arthur laughed, shaking his head as he agreed, “Eva actually stuck
around enough to get the jacket. Dad was proud of her being a
werewolf, didn’t care she did what she could to move out
immediately because she hated him, he just wanted to celebrate it.
They went out hunting together, first time dad fucking let her come
with him, had a whole heart to heart apparently, she was wearing the
jacket when she got home. Dad was crying, not that he’d admit it,
kept telling me how proud he was of her.”
If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.
I nodded, a small smile coming over me I almost hated having, “so,
Gabriel?”
“Oh, God, Gabriel,” Arthur muttered laughing, once more tapping
the photo, “your family’s not the best on my end, but him? Man’s
the best of all of us if you ask me — was human, don’t know if
he’s still alive but he’d be getting up there in years if he is.”
His finger moving to a picture of a group of kids, “moved out at
eighteen, joined the army and was sent to training a week just to get
away from our parents, ended up in Vietnam. Way I hear it, few months
into things there was a big accident, his officer got caught
in an explosion and he went missing a little later. Everyone assumed
he, well, died, but a few of his friends told me there were rumors he
deserted and killed the guy because of some order they got given. I
don’t hear anything else until the war’s over for a few years,
Covenant gets sent some pictures addressed to me, I don’t even live
there but Eva ends up bringing them over.” Arthur moved to gesture
at a few others in the yellowed color of aged photos. The frame of a
building being constructed, a blurry photo of a man tending to a
flower bed while kids played in the background, a picture of two
blurry men stood by a tree, “he… well, he didn’t say much, but
from what I gathered from the letter and stuff he found a new life.
Said he became a construction worker for a while, was groundskeeper
at a school, said he found someone he was spending his time with.”
“Never wrote back?”
He actually laughed at me for that, shaking his head in amusement as
he admitted, “No return address. I considered flying out there, but
the country’s a big place and I didn’t have much to go on for
finding him. Besides, I… we got along, better than with Eva or our
parents, but I wasn’t my best back then. I’m just glad he did
better than any of us did with our lives, it took me a long while to
find a calling I was happy with and get better.”
I nodded, walking along the photos and tapping at one, the other girl
from the photos stood holding a long bow as I asked, “my aunt?”
“Leah, yeah, Eva and Leah, used to always joke about the rhyme.
They were inseparable before Eva became a werewolf,” Arthur
admitted, no laugh to it as he walked over to the photo, staring down
at it with a cringing expression, “she… she was human — my
twin, supposedly runs in the family — why I stuck around the house
long as I did. I mean, I told her, I’m gonna get her out of that
place too, not leave her alone, but… well, she didn’t want to get
married young first person with a place, she couldn’t find a job
and I was trying to find a place for us I could afford as a cashier…”
he paused, rubbing his jaw before admitting, “she was nineteen. I
found her. I left the night after the funeral, stayed in my car a
month, called Eva at the Covenant after I finally had an attic room
rented and a half year to drink myself drunk as a werewolf could and
I… I don’t think she ever forgave me for leaving her alone after
that, I don’t blame her, but we’d call once a week for a while
there.”
Unsure of what to say I let him continue on, the man walking to a new
set of pictures, stopping there a long time while he looked it over.
The man looking unsure on if he wanted to speak before I finally
decided to break the tension myself.
As much as I wanted to hear more about my family, there was something
I needed to figure out as I asked him, “does The Lady deserve to
die?”
My uncle paused, looking back at me and sighing as he went to take
his seat once more. The man letting me take my place on the couch
before he asked, “you want the Christian answer?”
“I follow the Wolf Gods.”
“Makes sense, know Eva went to them later in life,” Arthur
grumbled a moment, eyes down at the floor before he admitted, “I
think as much as anyone can deserve to, though I guess that depends
on what you think of people, right? I… I’ve heard The Lady’s
Right Hand was a former Purist, some would say you deserve death.”
I probably did, and I had to tell him so with a simple, “I do.”
He cringed at that, the man opening and closing his mouth a few times
before admitting, “some would also say redemption’s… well, if
not through religion, is in its form available to all who look for
it. I mean, I have my own view on it of course, but… it’s better
for a man to do good in this world than bad, isn’t it?”
I nodded, frowning as I sat back and listened to the man talk, trying
to figure out where he was going.
Arthur at least one to not require too much to keep talking, his tone
almost professional as he continued, “if a thief goes to Hell and
there is no redemption, there is no reason for the thief to become a
better man and all the reason for him to become worse. Even if you
don’t believe in Hell though, I like to imagine it empty, the
principle remains the same here on Earth, with people. If the thief,
the liar, even the killer,” the man gestured to me at that, “if
they can’t imagine a life where they are welcome in the world one
day, why should they do better? I mean, why do you do better, why
don’t you return to the Purists?”
Something I’d thought about too often as I admitted, “I don’t
want to hurt people anymore, that doesn’t change what I did. I’m…
I like killing people, I just don’t like I do. I’m not
exactly an example of someone that got redeemed, you know that
right?”
“To be redeemed isn’t a state, it’s a journey,” Arthur
answered, the man shaking his head as he struggled to sleep for a
long moment. Lips thin, brow furrowed, the silence heavy until he
started, “redemption is about choosing to do better, and then every
day doing better than the day before. It’s trying to make up for
the wrongs you’ve cause, it’s saying that what you did was wrong
and not trying to hide that fact, it’s trying to put more good in
the world than you took from it. It’s telling the world…”
“So The Lady doesn’t deserve to die,” I interrupted him,
hearing enough to guess where this was going. The sort of generic
talk I probably should have expected from going to a priest while I
considered whether Samuel might have been better.
As nice as a thought it was, I wasn’t exactly doing anything I
thought applied to what he was talking about. I was barely existing,
going through life, I had saved a few lives and ruined plenty even
having left the Purists. The world wasn’t going to be a better
place than it would have been without me, and I doubted that was much
better.
All the same, the man broke the silence with a simple, “I’d kill
her myself given the chance.” I looked up at him, and his face
remained stone as he asked, “you’ve killed people to protect
others haven’t you? Rogue vampires, werewolves, something like
that? People you think deserve to die because they’re a threat to
others.”
Alpha the first name that came to mind, though I couldn’t deny I’d
killed a few monsters who probably did deserve it since I’d left
the Purists. Vampires who killed innocents, hunters crossing lines,
even a couple Purists since I’d left. Not enough to make up for it,
but at the same time…
“Something like that.”
“Everyone can be redeemed, but that doesn’t mean everyone will
be,” Arthur explained for me, the man shuffling in his seat a long
moment. His hands fumbling with the air as he continued, “and,
personal belief is different from moral belief. Personally I know
what she did to my sister, I know she’s done it to others, I blame
her for how Eva turned and… I would kill her given the chance. If
The Lady died I would pray for her soul, but I would not cry, nor
would I hope to see her in the afterlife for some time after I
arrived, but morally I do not believe her death is right.
Death is final, once one has returned to dust there is nothing left
for them to do. Everything bad they did in this world still happened,
people were still hurt, and there is no time left for them to do good
in it once more. Not everyone will claim redemption, The Lady hurts
people now and relying on her to redeem herself will let her hurt
other people until then, but at the same time…”
I nodded, understanding his point a little better as I said, “so
basically what your saying is, ‘it depends,’ right?”
He laughed at that, shaking his head as he moved a spoon around his
chili and admitted, “it depends. Maybe she can be redeemed, but
will it be before she hurts more people? Will she be able to do
enough good in this world to make up for what she’s done and does
until then?” my uncle letting us fall in silence for a long while
more until he asked, “has she hurt you?”
“Broke my arm, ribs, threatened my son,” I listed off, the man’s
furrowed brow accompanied by what might have been a growl, “the
mercenaries attacking people, they’re going to attack a party The
Lady’s hosting tomorrow. Put bombs on a few columns, I think bring
down the entire building. It’ll kill a good number of humans,
probably a few of her guests, maybe her, and it’ll be chaos in the
area for supernaturals after. I just… I don’t know if I should
let them and attempt it.”
Arthur looked off, ran his hands along his face, and finally sighed
as he told me, “you’re asking a very… complicated question.”
“Give me your take.”
My uncle took a long time to answer, unmoving as he stared holes into
the wall, looked ready to speak and then stopping. His head nodding
along a few times before he finally started, “religious perspective
or secular?”
“Let’s go with both. Came to you because you’re a werewolf and
my uncle, but I know I came to a priest even if it’s not for my
god,” I admitted, and Arthur joined me in chuckling at that.
The man letting my words settle before he finally answered, “I’ve
been around the supernatural too long to think there’s one God,
just which god you follow and take your guidance from, but I know
those gods see the futures in their own ways. So, religiously I’d
guess I’d ask… if a god can see the future and knows all horror
and atrocity and pain that will be caused in their name, and still
chose to let the world know they exist, what does that say? If my God
knew about the crusades, if Odin knew people would be sacrificed to
him, if the Egyptian gods knew people would be buried alive in their
Pharaoh’s tombs, does that mean they were wrong to reveal
themselves to the world, or was there a greater reason?”
“I’m not following.”
Arthur laughed at that too at least, “fine, secular answer is…
bad things can lead to good things. Violence has created some good in
this world, but it’s also done a lot of bad, and even good things
have been preceded by horrors. It’s a dice roll where every face is
probably going to end in a lot of innocent people suffering in the
meantime, and the question is are you willing to take that risk? The
Lady dies, what happens then? Hunters start killing all us
supernaturals off? The next person in charge is worse? Everything
descends into chaos and it stays there? This explosion gets cameras
on the building and supernaturals get revealed to the world? You have
the chance to roll that dice, Mary, but are you prepared to take
credit for whatever the result is? Or do you think you can just burn
The Lady down and walk away or let yourself burn with her? It is easy
to be a coward or even a martyr, there’s been many great ones in
history, but there have been very few great leaders few great
builders.”
“I’m a former Purist, I don’t think anyone really wants me
doing either those things, let alone would let me do that after The
Lady’s gone” I admitted laughing, after a moment deciding to
admit, “I’m not exactly even good at the Redemption thing. I’m
just existing, helping a couple people, I just… this would help a
lot of people long term, right? She’s a vampire, that’s thousands
of years she could keep hurting people and-”
“Mary,” Arthur interrupted, his smile a surprising comfort, “I
don’t mean you need to take her place, I mean you would need to be
prepared to do what is right around you. You still have a chance at
doing some good in this world, you just need to find your calling
where you can help people.”
His words set on the air, and I sat there in silence while the man
began eating his chili and cornbread. Neither of us speaking while I
let the words settle over me and the man went about cleaning up. His
dishes in the kitchen, the brief sound of washing, and Arthur came
back out and went about wiping shelves and straightening the room
while I thought it through.
The Lady dying would cause a lot of problems, and maybe he was right
she had a lot of power to do a lot of good in the world. That didn’t
mean she would, but at least… well, her dying would also do
a lot of bad, and was I prepared to help out with that? If things did
go bad, would I be able to do something to try mitigating that fact,
or would I just be making everything worse?
How the fuck would I even help people if I tried? Sign up for a
charity? What did people want with a former Purist with a potential
GED and no real world experience? I’d worked for supernatural, I’d
barely encountered the world before being a werewolf, I wasn’t
prepared for helping people.
Even then that didn’t really help me at all, the question was if I
was actually helping save The Lady or not. Was I even someone who
could make that sort of decision?
For all I knew…
My phone rang, a frown crossing my lips as I fumbled with my pocket
and checked the name. Barely hesitating to answer with, “everything
okay, man?”
Percy was panting, a pained groan escaping him as I was already on my
feet when he answered, “Marty’s okay. He… fuck, that fucking
hurts.” A wet cough escaping him and a weak chuckle while I yelled
my apologies and goodbyes and started towards my car, “ah fuck
yeah, definitely ribs… I’m going to just-”
There was a dull thud, a rustling, and I heard Red tell me,
“Werewolves. I wasn’t expecting them, had to grab what I had
prepared for you, just got back from searching the building. About
half The Lady’s security got fucked, other half are locking the
place down, and-”
“Is Percy okay?” I snapped, the phone silent too long for comfort
as I jumped into my car, still fumbling with the ignition when I saw
Arthur running out. The man climbing in my passenger seat while Red
finally answered, “pulse present, relatively weak, signs of
internal bleeding, I can stabilize him for now. You know his type?”
“Not the fucking time to joke, fucking… what do you mean
werewolves?” I snapped, phone hastily switched to speaker as
I slammed the gas. My car’s wheels screaming as I spun it around,
jumping across the curb while I started towards the road.
Red sounding bored as ever as she ignored my question, “blood type,
fucking… it’s The Lady, there’s a universal donor around here
somewhere.”
I nodded, the feeling of bile in my throat rising as another thought
hit me like a truck. My voice trembling as I asked, “Marty,
Gevaudan, are they…”
Her answer no where near the comfort it should have been.
“Alive.”