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Wolves and Men
Book 5 Chapter 7a

Book 5 Chapter 7a

Simon stepped out of the car into the rain drenched street looking into a side alley. This city was always dirty and even heavy rain, like tonight, failed to wash away the stench of human disease and refuse that chocked the gutters and buildings of this place. He had only been here a handful of times in the last fifty years, and every time he did, he only wanted to leave it again. How could this place be so unlike the cities of the old country? Might as well wonder why Alessandro had chosen this place as his seat of power. It suited the House Head, for reasons that he was unable to comprehend. But the work that needed to be done was here, so he was too.

His dark brown, heavy leather duster’s collar was popped up against his face. He wore no hat even in this weather. And only a fool would use an umbrella doing the kind of work that he was about. He bent his face against the wind and biting rain and strolled down the alley. He had learned long ago, the best way to find trouble was to appear as easy prey. Trouble would eventually come to you with its hand’s out.

He walked through some back streets and across a main thoroughfare, lined with taxis and street seating from bars and restaurants. Even though the outside patio areas were neatly covered with broad awnings, there were few people taking advantage of the weather there.

He heard them before he saw them. They were a small group, mostly male by the sound and weight of their footsteps though they were a little light for that, teenagers probably. He could hear words spoken but not the meaning or conversation. He slowed down a half step. The only people out on a night like this were those too drunk to notice, stupid, horny, or what he was looking for. He hesitated till he knew that they had seen him then he turned into a side alleyway. If they were the latter of the possibilities, he would be a mark not soon passed up.

He walked less than twenty-five yards before his quarry turned into the alleyway behind him. He hesitated and stumbled a bit and took out a bottle of dark liquid and took a long swig. He then stumbled into a wall and kept walking forward. He smiled as he heard behind him rapid footsteps approaching from behind.

They didn’t say a word and they didn’t need to. When the footsteps were three feet from him, he threw his duster back and spun around, ducking down just as an aluminum bat swung through the air where his head had just been. His arm shot out and grabbed the would-be assailant’s throat and squeezed. His other arm shot out and clothes lined another member of the small group of men.

He now knew why their footfalls had been so quiet. His attackers were all young, twenty something year old Asian boys. He frowned at the four of them. He hadn’t known that he had drifted into House Himura territory. Of course this could be just a group of street thugs, time to find out.

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He dropped the boy he had been holding by the neck and placed his heavy boot on the face of the one he had just dropped with the clothes line. He looked at the other two as they helped their dazed comrade to his feet and backed a few feet away from this superior opponent.

“Who are you?” Simon asked plainly.

The boys stared at him defiantly. He exerted pressure on the young man’s face with his foot, exacting a very satisfactory wail and moan. He looked up at the three still standing, “Who are you?” Still, they said nothing, grabbing each other’s drenched shirts in the rain. He couldn’t figure out if they were keeping each other here, or begging the others to be the first to run. He added more pressure to the face of their comrade on the concrete. He spoke in the few Japanese words that he knew, “Who are you?”

The boys stared at him. He knew they understood and they couldn’t play dumb this time. One of them stood up and shoved his friends back toward the way they had come. He didn’t yell he just pointed. The friends nodded and took off running.

A glint in the rain was his only warning. A small throwing blade, knifed its way through the alley towards the downed combatant. Simon caught the blade easily without removing his foot from his catch and looked up. The three boys had almost made it to the mouth of the alleyway.

Simon reached down, and in a controlled punch across the boy’s temples, knocked him out with one blow. He pulled the child out of the rain into a narrow covering of the alley and checked his vitals. He was breathing evenly. He would live, albeit with wounded honor. He stood up and silently followed his prey. The night had given him a lead; there had been better starts to his first night on the job, but not many. He followed the escaping boys at a distance, hounding their steps, following where they would lead him.

They ran back through the main thoroughfare and quickly flagged down a car. The car swerved and pulled an E-brake turn, picking the boys up in less than 20 seconds and skidded away down the street. Simon smiled and ducked back into the alleyway.

He looked down the alleyway and jumped up the side of one building; he then jumped off of it and rebounded off the opposite building. In two bounds he was on top of the buildings racing towards the roar of the car engine and the sounds of skidding tires and protesting brakes as the car that picked up his quarry tore off down the city streets trying to get away.

While the car was limited in space and speed by the roads, Simon was free to run at full vampire speeds, easily catching up with, and pacing, the getaway car. Simon watched the car as the driver began to slow down trying to blend into traffic a bit more.

The car took a sudden right turn and Simon was forced to jump over the street onto another building to keep up the chase. He was careful to not be seen by anyone. The car was now proceeding like any other car. To Simon, it resembled a calming prey animal after its frantic escape. Of course, as soon as the hare relaxed, that was when the wolf or fox would pounce. Tonight, would be no different.