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Balor…
Balor entered the kennels, grateful to be home. The dogs greeted him with great baying howls. They were the sons and daughters of the finest scent bloodlines in the country. His father had bred them. They were beautiful creatures.
After they had found that first magical wolf, he’d made a claim on puppies from the next two litters. The animals were almost ready, well trained and talented by nature. He’d only had to cull one. She hadn’t had the talent. Another he’d given to his sister because she had no blood lust. That bitch could track, but she’d been more likely to boop the other creature’s nose than rip it into pieces. Much like people, breeding wasn’t everything.
As a child, the kennels had been one of his favorite places to go. His father had loved hunting. He’d bought Balor his first gun. The trainer hadn’t understood why Balor had only wanted him to use the specific scraps of wolf fur he had given him to scent train the animals.
He’d argued that full pelts were available. Balor’d clarified that if he found out that he was using anything other than what he’d been given, it would be his job. What he hadn’t said was this type of wolf was special. Priceless. He tossed the hunks of meat he had brought them into their cages, glad to be back home. They were young, but ready to begin proper trials in the field.
The way the four of them were being watched online was clumsy. The people investigating them had his attention, but he didn’t yet know if they were fans or those who changed, or both. Balor hadn’t decided yet if he should take his girls into the city streets or the thick woods.
How many of those who could transfigure were out there? He still wanted to find the girl in the video, but Colorado was far from Georgia and he’d already borrowed his dad’s jet twice this quarter. He might not have to go quite so far. Bringing their pet, Remmy, here had been trouble enough. Sam and Cary had complained for days about the transfer and the amount of drugs it had taken to keep the man asleep until he was ensconced in the basement.
His father’s property edged a vast tract of state park land. He’d been toying with the idea of grabbing Sam and taking the girls out. They might get lucky. What a treat it would be if, at this first gathering, they could force a change and earn true believers.
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They could inject the footage into the very bowels of the internet where it could fester. Their fans, his followers, were already excited about meeting the man who posted the couch girl video. He was a legend in their circles. A provider of proof.
But what of the closest and most zealous of their fans? The ones willing to leap through hoops and prove their loyalty to him. What if they could see a display? He stroked the russet fur of his favorite bitch’s head. “Will you find one for me, girl? A toy to take apart?”
He knew in his gut that the one wolf they had found so many months ago was just the tiniest tip of the iceberg. A flake on the surface. If they were only on the east coast, that wasn’t insurmountable. But local would be convenient. The dog looked up at him adoringly. Balor was good with animals. It was only a matter of time and patience. They were getting closer every day.
*
Orp…
“My man, how have you been?” Orp carried a box down the basement stairs, grinning widely. He had good news.
“Hungry and dirty, you son of a bitch. You didn’t tell me you would be gone so long.” Remmy was not looking so good and the room reeked of sweat and other unmentionable things.
Orp shrugged and gestured toward the stairs he had just come down. “If you’d like me to leave, I’d be happy too.” He took a backward step. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your busy schedule.”
Remmy spread his hands out toward him. “No. I didn’t mean it. I’m glad you’re here. I think I’ve found out some things you’d like to know. I’ve discovered some patterns.” He was desperately focused on the box of supplies Orp carried.
Orp stepped back down and took a step toward him. “Do tell. I’d love to hear what you’ve been up to.” He scratched his cheek. “It will help me decide if I bring the other bags of groceries down, or let them moulder upstairs while you starve.” He shrugged. “Or eat chili.”
“It’s good stuff. Sit.” Remmy gestured to the table. “Let me show you how hard I’ve been working.”
The manacle around his ankle looked like it had irritated the man’s skin. Had he been trying to remove it? Amused and curious, Orp stepped toward the table. “What have you found?”
“Outsiders are trying to weasel their way onto our boards. They’ve shown up since the video went viral, a whole handful of them that I can’t find anywhere before that incident. Six or seven users have just appeared, sprinkled about. Asking questions. Repeating things other people have said, but they word things differently. They don’t quite sound right. I’m wondering who they might be.”
“Are you thinking we might be hunted by what we hunt?”
Remmy nodded. “If I were them, I would.”
Orp considered it. “I would too.” He sat down and took an apple out of his pocket and placed it on the table. “Eat this while I look at what you’ve gathered.” Remmy grabbed the apple and bit into it with a certain level of desperation that made Orp a little sad. So little self control. He opened the laptop and began to explore.