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Jeremiah…
Jeremiah fidgeted with the cuffs of his crisp, starched shirt. “I don’t think I can do this.” He avoided looking directly at Ansel. “I’m supposed to be under the hood of a car, not infiltrating a cult. My brother would kick my ass if he knew I consented to this. How am I going to convince these Sheep that I could afford this ticket?”
“Once Red understands the risk we are facing, he will forgive you. We don’t have a lot of choices. I need you to do this. You made the contact. Let me worry about Red and the mountain.”
“And my pregnant and volatile woman? What do I tell her?”
Ansel held his gaze as he pulled a thick gold ring from his finger set with a square-cut diamond. He placed it on the table between them. “This was my grandfather's. Get a jeweler to turn it into a proper wedding ring and propose to her.” He shrugged. “Or sell it and buy a new truck. I don’t care. It’s yours.”
“Is it real?” Jeremiah asked as he lifted the ring and looked into the fire of the stone.
“Yes.” The Wolf tapped the edge of his hand on the flat surface. “Take it. Just do what I am asking you to.”
Stiffening his back, Jeremiah quietly spoke. “So you think you are the boss of me now? Is this my purchase price?” Grainy memories of his childhood flickered across his thoughts.
“No. It’s a gift from someone in need of your help. This plan is the best way I can think of to get your ring brother and our scout away from these lunatic Sheep. They’re up to something, and it is happening tonight. Because you are a Bear, they can’t filter you out with scent dogs.”
“I barely talked to any of them, young man, and I avoided speaking at all to the one you call Orp. It’s hardly what you would consider a contact.”
Two hours earlier, he’d overheard a group of young men talking in the coffee shop. The kind who danced along the edges of the darker areas of the web. Much like the wily tech teams the Wolves had, they had figured out that one of the regulars on the popular underground werewolf site, Lunar, sometimes posted in the Dry Light Cafe. Jeremiah’d been guilty of the same thing. Day after day, he’d drunk gallons of mediocre coffee that cost too much. Pretending to be working remote, he had logged the times repeat customers came in and took their photographs. The Wolves had matched the data to the online patterns they were tracking. The giddiness of the fanboys, who had found the same pattern, unnerved Jeremiah.
These Sheep talked about Kind and transformation like it was a live RPG. The puzzle drew them, more than the actual lore or even the reality. Much to his surprise, a lanky man with long knobby fingers approached the vocal group as they argued about both the video of Kennedy and the controversy that had spiraled outward from it. Was it just hype and bullshit? Was one of the gaming companies preparing something amazing? They viewed it as a grand puzzle. They were excited about the mystery. The youngest, he guessed, was still in high school.
Seated by the window, Jeremiah watched as a man approached their table. At first, he’d thought the guy was just a latecomer to their group.
“What do you want, man?” the boldest Tech guy asked the new arrival. He was a few years older than the most youthful in their group.
“I was wondering if your precocious bunch was looking for me.”
The youngest gasped. “Are you THE Orp?”
His grin split wide across his face. “And if I am?”
“Man, we are so excited about tonight.”
A second blurted, “Is this the start of a game?”
Orp tilted his head. “You could call it that, I suppose.” Jeremiah sent a brief alert out to the team.
“I feel like I should reward you for your sleuthing.”
The youngest looked like he was about to explode into sparkles and glitter. “Could I have your autograph?”
“I can do better than that.” He pulled a number of highly decorated cards from his shirt pocket. “These, my new friends, are invitations to the highly coveted event that is happening this evening. I suppose I could sign them.”
When the gathered group gasped and started pleading for him to do just that, he held the invitations against his chest. “How can I trust that you will keep our secrets? Are you sure you are ready to know the truth?” He patted his chest with the cards. “I can’t swear that your lives will be worth much if you can’t keep your thoughts to yourselves.” He gestured to the coffee shop. “I mean. You boys haven’t exactly been discreet.”
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“I’m sorry, sir. We can do better.” Eager nods dipped as they agreed with their bold friend.
Jeremiah’s mouth had gone dry. This was the exact man the Wolves had been looking for, one table away, preening like a courting bird, taking great pleasure in his fame. Jeremiah used every bit of his ability to blend in, to become the quiet in the room so he could observe with a measure of peace. Acting like he was texting someone, he took several photographs as the man signed the cards and handed them out like prize possessions.
He documented the boys as well. They’d become new trails for the Wolves to follow. He’d gather the napkins as physical evidence. Jeremiah was just biding his time until he could go to the table where Orp had been working to palm something that held his scent. Waiting on the table he had abandoned, were a piece of paper Orp had crumpled and an empty coffee cup. Anything he had touched would do.
Jeremiah’s fingers itched to have one of those cards as his own. His ability to light finger items from others was something he had not mastered the way Red had. He wasn’t as bold. Or perhaps he just hadn’t been as desperate, or driven by his desire to protect and provide for his younger cousin.
The man answered their flurry of questions, taking different tangents. These young guys weren’t believers yet. They still expected the whole thing to be a very seductive marketing experience. Orp toyed with them. The man, this complication, who was hunting his woman and his family was taking great delight in the attention. The way he preened at their praise let Jeremiah know this one wasn’t the actual leader. He wasn’t at the heart of this strange organization. These roast eaters, consumers of their own kind, disgusted him. His stomach recoiled at what he had been told they had done.
Killing this man right now in this little coffee house wouldn’t cut out the cancer in the Sheep. He could kill the one man. Culling him out in an alleyway would be easy. Jeremiah knew he was capable of it. But doing it now… would just cause the others to sink further into their oblivion of twisted beliefs. Right now, these poisonous creatures were being flashy and stupid, drawing attention in the sweaty creases of humanities gathering spots.
As he packed up his laptop, Jeremiah took his time. He would have lingered longer, listening to them chatter happily and take selfies with their little cards, except a sleepy eyed man with a bin for used dishes had begun winding through the tables. Jeremiah got up. He bumped into him as he palmed the paper from the table and apologized. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t paying attention. Could you point me toward your restrooms?”
Headphone cords swinging, the employee gestured to two doors in the back, and continued good-naturedly clearing the tables. Jeremiah headed toward that narrow hall. Just before he swerved to return to the main room, one of the excited boys came up behind him, headed toward the men’s room. So Jeremiah just went on with the flow, swung the door in, and went to the urinal. To his surprise, the man stepped up to him, openly excited by what had just happened to him. Jeremiah waited until they were at the sinks, washing their hands to speak. “Who was that guy you and your friends were talking to? Is he famous?”
“Oh man. He is a Son of Flamel. The dudes that have been putting out content claiming that the werewolf student film thing in Texas is just a cover up. They’ve leaked some interesting shit, man. Have you been following it?”
“I saw a bit of the original. It was some college girl on a couch, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah. The whole thing was a film stunt where they made it look like she turned into a bear.” He dried his hands, “That whole accidental video cam thing has been done a thousand times at this point. I have to admit, they had me believing until the filming footage came out.”
“Who on earth believes in werewolves in the modern world?”
“A shit load of people.” The teen pulled the signed invitation out of his pocket. “Most of them will be watching this party on the dark web tonight. The rumor is that they captured a werewolf, a little girl. They are going to force her to turn on camera in front of an audience tonight.”
Jeremiah held himself in a relaxed stance only through a life of practice. Only let them see what you want them to. He knew how to keep his face neutral. He feigned interest. “Are you going to go?”
He looked at the card and heaved a great sigh. “Probably not. My friends are convinced that they are going to get their hands on a beta version of some new game.” He turned the card over. “What if they really do have some little kid?” A shadow moved behind his eyes. “And, anyway, my parents won’t let me stay out later than ten on a school night.”
“How much for it?” Jeremiah asked. “I ain’t got nothing to do tonight.”
The guy held the card between two fingers. “I could get a pretty penny for this online.”
Jeremiah pulled out his wallet and withdrew two hundred dollars. He allowed the guy to see that there was more green to be had.
“Not even a tempting start, my man. You have no idea how many people are buying the story Orp and his pals are selling.”
He gave a grunt and let some time burn between them. Jeremiah waited until it looked like the guy was just about to tuck the card away again.
“I always loved scary movies.” He shuffled through the bills. “Are you sure this is going to be an experience to remember?”
“These are golden tickets, man. Unfindable. unpurchaseable. It’s going to take everything you have in that leather wallet to tempt me to let it go.”
Fishing out all the money the Wolves had given him, Jeremiah released a deep sigh and offered the four hundred and thirty-six dollars to him. “This is all I have until pay day.”
“Sold.” He took the cash and handed over the card.
“You’ve only got a few hours to get there.” He grinned as he counted the cash. “And my girlfriend told me this morning if I canceled another study date, she was going to key my car.” The guy tucked the money into his pocket. “Thanks man. I can surprise her with a pizza now. I’m kinda in the doghouse.”
Jeremiah smiled at the card in his fingertips. This and the paper from the table should be enough to get a trackable scent.