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!”
Heather hurried for the exit. Earl waited until she was gone before resignedly setting his Thompson on his legs. He closed his eyes, and for a moment didn’t really care if Nikolai charged or not. Apparently, the werewolf meant to try and keep his promise, and stayed seated on the couch. Nikolai sensed the change in Earl’s demeanor. “What is it?”
“It’s just like the old days, Nikolai.…We’ve been used. Just like the old days.” Tired, Earl rubbed his face in his hands. He should have been angry, but it just hurt. The last time he’d felt this way was when he’d learned about Martin Hood’s betrayal. Earl was getting mighty sick of people lying to him. “Remember our war?”
“How could I forget?”
“I did. I forgot a bunch of it. Not by choice, but it was taken from me.” Earl opened his eyes. “Apparently, I lost more than I’d thought.”
“I do not understand,” Nikolai said hesitantly.
“It don’t matter. A lot of good men died fighting you.”
“I did not hold a monopoly. Good men died on both sides.”
“What can you tell me about the last time we met in Vietnam?”
“I led an assault on your base of operations. Both sides took heavy casualties. We severely injured each other, and both of us were evacuated.”
“Did I…hurt, maybe give the curse to anyone on my side?”
Nikolai seemed confused by the question. “No. You were an honorable adversary.”
Earl smiled as he stood. “Wish I could say the same for you, but you were surely the most dedicated son of a bitch I ever crossed.” He reached to his belt and pulled out one of his Nightguard revolvers. He opened the cylinder and ejected the moon clip. “Scary, mean, downright ruthless, but dedicated.” Earl put the moon clip in one pocket and rummaged around until he came out with another clip holding six rounds. Holding it up, he studied it, squinting in the dim light. Earl ran his thumb over the bullets and nodded. “I can respect that. So I’m giving you a chance.”
“What’s that for?”
“You want me to trust you? Well, after the things you’ve done, you’ve got to earn my trust.” Earl pulled one cartridge’s rim free of the sheet-metal moon clip and studied it. Apparently satisfied with the round of ammunition, Earl dropped it into the cylinder and gave it a hard spin before closing it. “You say your life’s worth nothing and that you’re willing to follow the old ways. Well”—Earl tossed the gun in a long arc across the room—“prove it.”
By the time the revolver landed at Nikolai’s feet, Earl had already lifted his Thompson to cover him. “Really? Russian roulette?”
“Appropriate, don’t you think?” Earl gestured with his subgun. “Pick it up.…And you so much as twitch in my direction, I’ll cut you in half with silver bullets. You’re fast, but you ain’t that fast.”
Nikolai slowly lifted the Smith & Wesson. His expression was blank.
“Put it against your temple.”
Hand quivering, Nikolai did as he was told. It took him a long time to respond. “The Tvar is not happy with this development.”
“Your ta-var is a whiny little bitch. Tell him the king of werewolves says to quit his crying. This is how its gonna work. I’ll ask a question. Each time you answer wrong, you pull the trigger.”
“I hope this is a short quiz.”
Chapter 21
Sharon was the first to speak to me. We’d been working together long enough that she knew me well. She approached me one day while I sat, exhausted, unshaven, and haggard, smoking and glaring at the jungle. Even my human hours were spent filled with anger. Conover’s superiors had been pushing him, so he’d been pushing us. She told me that she was worried about me.
“I’m just doing my job,” I told her.
“You’re changing, Earl. There is a darkness growing. I can feel it in you.”
It took everything I had not to lash out at her. She was right. I was having a hard time staying in control. “Don’t read my mind. You really won’t like what you find.”
She had a lovely laugh. “That’s not how it works, but I don’t need magic to understand the emotions I can read right off your face. You are not him. He is not a reflection of you. Nikolai is a monster.”
“Look around you. So are we,” I snapped. She put a gentle hand on my shoulder. It was like all of a sudden my cares were less. Happy memories filled my head. Sirens have powerful magic. “Sorry. You’re not. You’re a decent girl with questionable parentage. Travis ain’t a monster, either. Scariest damn thing you’ve ever seen, but he’s basically a big hyperactive teenager.…But me, I’m something awful.”
“You do what you have to. You don’t enjoy it like Nikolai does. We’ve all seen what he leaves behind. You’re starting to think that you two are the same.”
“Not anymore. We are the same. Killing…It’s all I want to do. It’s all I can think about.”
Sharon then asked something that has stuck with me ever since. “Why does it mean so much to be human when you’re not?”
I didn’t have an answer.
“Oh, Earl. Just think about it. You’re far more human than most humans I know. You have to make a choice. You have to try. Let me help you,” she offered. “I can soothe you. I can quiet the monster inside.”
I laughed at her. “You coming on to me?”
Sharon blanched. “Ugh, no. Really, no offense, but I’m descended from Achelous. My nearly immortal mother fell for my father because he was the most perfect man she’d seen in hundreds of years. Once I get out from under this PUFF thing, I’ll probably go be a model or marry somebody stupidly rich. I’m really, really, really out of your league. If I turn on the charm, men would commit suicide to be with me. You’re kind of…plain. And, well, frankly you’re very average. And you’re not very tall. Your accent is horrid, too.”
“Wow. Don’t hold back, honey.”
“And it would be like kissing an ashtray. No, Earl, what I meant was that I can calm you with my magic. I can help you find your focus again. Let me use my voice.”
And she did. Let me tell you, there’s a reason mariners drowned themselves trying to reach a siren.
It turns out that there really is something to that old adage about music soothing the savage beast. Santiago taught me that as well. There are different tools for different times, but the Lord always provides a way for man to control the beast inside. Sometimes, the only way left may be death, but even that is acceptable to the alternative.