Moonlight bay, p.17
Moonlight Bay, page 17
“I always had you, Loretta. I didn’t need Lazareth,” he said, trying to divert the conversation.
“You have always been too good to your brother Bartholomew. He has never had your sense of control and he knows it.”
His silence signaled her to stop. Not wanting to pry any further, she decided to change the topic.
“How’s my mother anyway?”
“Pandia’s doing fine as much as I know, but I don’t really see her that much.”
“I know Bartholomew and I’m sorry, but I’m her daughter and I don’t get to see my own mother. After she had me, she met your brother. You were the star, Bartholomew. I’m an old lady now, so don’t argue with me. I just never had my mother’s gift of aging.” She giggled to herself.
“I’m sorry Loretta. I realize you must miss your mother.”
“I noticed my brother is no longer on the mainland.”
Bartholomew took a breath as he thought of his nephew.
“No, he unfortunately was privileged.”
“Unfortunately? See, I knew you were different from your brother.”
Bartholomew continued to follow, carefully not to touch any of the silver bars securing the bedroom doors.
“By the way, I think Adolfo should know that the hybrid bloodline is thinning,” she said.
“What are you talking about, Loretta?”
“Well, do you realize we had only four privileged during this school year? Five if you count my brother.” She reached a door that led to a huge library. The books were stacked in rows that with twelve feet high.
“I’ll tell Adolfo that. Although, I’m not terribly disappointed, but I’ll give him the message.”
“I hear that.” She gripped the end of a tall bookcase.
“Sheriff, I could use some help here.”
“Oh, I’m sorry Loretta.” He said, waving Loretta away and leaning his shoulder into the towering case.
The shelves moved outward like a doorway with ease. Bartholomew set the bookcase in place, now exposing a wall with a handle at the bottom. Again, he stood there waiting for Loretta.
“I don’t know why you keep looking at me Sheriff. I’m a little old lady and that’s a big heavy door. If I was you I would huff and puff and blow the damn thing in,” Loretta said, hunching a little while holding her lower back.
“Loretta, you are always a comedian,” he snickered.
Bartholomew grabbed the latch at the bottom of the wall and shoved the wall upward. It disappeared into the ceiling like a garage door. There a large silver vault stood. A latch with an iron wheel was engraved with numbers.
“Make sure your gloves are on Bartholomew, I’m going to need help with the wheel when I enter the combination. I wouldn’t want you to accidentally touch the door.”
Bartholomew’s became lightheaded, creating a throbbing headache at his temples. The essence from the enormous silver door seemed to weaken him without physical contact. He stepped to the back wall of the library and held his head, trying to regain his bearings. Loretta entered the combination when she turned for assistance with the wheel. She realized that Bartholomew had stepped back from the door.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, just give me a second.” He crouched over with his hands on his knees, taking a deep breath.
Loretta looked up at the gargantuan silver mass enclosed in the library.
“It never occurred to me. Those silver gates are outside, where the silver particles can drift in the wind. There’s a silver mist coating the safe for security. Here, they have no place to go in an enclosed room. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.” She said.
“No, I’m feeling better. Let’s do this.”
“I’m sorry Bartholomew. Adolfo usually just hands me the items that need to be in here. It usually comes during the day so I can have one of the young lads help me.”
“Don’t worry yourself Loretta. Let’s move on.”
Bartholomew marched towards the door with determination, spinning the wheel with ease. He lifted the latch and opened the mighty door. Inside were rows of locked drawers each one numbered like a bank vault.
“Follow me.” Loretta said, entering the vault.
Bartholomew continued feeling a little light headed, but happily complied. She strolled in a third of the way to one side. There, she unlocked a drawer that was at eye level and placed the only key into his gloved palm.
“There you go Sheriff. Lock it up when you’re done.”
Loretta stepped away and waited for him on the outside of the vault. When she was no longer in sight, he removed the medallion from his pocket, dropped the talisman into the box and locked it back into place. When he flashed a light to the rear of the vault, the light ricocheted off several silver and gold treasures displayed along the walls. There were necklaces, coins and a large silver sword with a pure silver handle exhibited for no one to see.
“Where the hell did all this shit come from?” He paid close attention to the sword.
Bartholomew glanced back one last time at the merchandise and staggered to the exit, where Loretta stood waiting. She could see that the silver continued to have an effect on his strength. Together, they took the wheel of the door and shoved it into place, then locked the latch. Bartholomew crouched over and began to cough violently. A spit of blood splashed the hardwood surface. Loretta pulled a chain that triggered the wall to come crashing down in front of the vault. After a minute had passed, Bartholomew felt the strength again to move the bookcase back into its original place.
He took another breath, wiping a dried speck of blood from the corner of his lip. He felt the soft touch of Loretta’s hand on his back.
“Are you all right Bartholomew?” she said with concern.
“I am Loretta, thanks.”
Loretta led him down the halls of Pendleton Estate to the main foyer, where she bid him farewell.
“Thanks for your help tonight, Loretta,” he said with a little cough.
“Are you sure you’re all right, Bartholomew?”
“I’m feeling better, stronger now.” He exited once she unlocked the silver barred door.
“Have a good evening, Loretta. I think Adolfo will sleep easier tonight.”
“You’re the one who needs to sleep easier. Watch your back, Sheriff.”
Bartholomew coughed into his hand. A speck of blood fell on to his fingers. He turned and smiled with a nod, curious about her remark.
“Remember Sheriff, even Superman had his kryptonite.”
Loretta locked the silver gate and disappeared behind the boarding house door. Bartholomew wiped the drop, smudging it along his finger. He continued rubbing to remove it as he walked to his truck. He took a deep breath with a squeal and a wheeze leaking out at the end. Time to get back to the office, he thought. Maybe another shot of whiskey would do the trick.
CHAPTER 22
The house was quiet. Adolfo was happy all of the guests had left. Peace and quiet was his idea of a perfect night. The dinner party was a necessity, not a night of pleasure for him. The house was his again and it was a night of the new moon. A night he wanted to enjoy with Pandia. He lightly knocked on the door before entering. He could see by the form in bed that she was already under the covers.
Adolfo undressed and snuck under the covers behind Pandia. He had started to kiss the back of her neck when she slapped him with the back of her hand, brushing him away.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she asked, rolling over to look at him.
“I thought we could actually spend a night together. It’s been a while.” He stroked his hand over her naked stomach.
Pandia stopped his hand and held it.
“We spend every night together,” she replied.
“No, I mean a night.”
“That you don’t have to shackle me and lock me up in a cage down in the basement?” Pandia looked at him, rolling away onto her side once again.
Adolfo paused, not knowing what to say. He attempted to kiss her neck again, stroking her thigh.
“No Adolfo. It’s a lot for me to take. I would actually like one night of a peaceful sleep without my bones and joints extending in ungodly positions.”
“Well, we can just..”
“Not that. You know what I mean.” She smiled and kissed him on the lips.
“Please, I would just like to sleep tonight.”
Adolfo stood and put on his bathrobe.
“I understand,” he said.
“That’s fine.” Adolfo walked quietly to the door.
“Adolfo, I didn’t say you couldn’t sleep here.”
“I know and I will be back. I just want to check on Phelan before I turn in.”
“You realize that not all of us wanted this.”
“Wanted what?”
Pandia propped up a pillow and sat back in bed.
“Not all of us wanted this gift, what you call being privileged.”
“I know that, now.” Adolfo returned to the bed, sitting at the end.
“You have a marvelous gift, Adolfo. It’s not the same as what you passed to us. The beast is getting worse from generation to generation. None of us can control it. We’re not the same as you or Bartholomew, and now we have passed it on to our son.”
“But he is the same.”
“If you say he changed today then he is like you, but he has some of me in him as well.”
“Pandia, he is mine isn’t he?”
Pandia moved closer to the foot of the bed, resting her head on his shoulder.
“You know there were others before you and you also know that the beast inside me, when turned, does not know the sacrament of a faithful marriage.”
Adolfo’s head dropped at her response.
“Adolfo, Phelan is yours. There is no way he could change on a new moon, not to mention in the middle of the day if he wasn’t,” she said kissing his cheek.
He stroked her hair and kissed her forehead. “Thank you. Now get some sleep.”
Adolfo rose from the bed and walked towards the door.
“Why do you love me anyway? How could you after what I have done?”
“Because it’s like you said, it’s just the beast in you. It’s my fault. When you are you, I can see you love me. Now sleep.” He said, blowing her a kiss.
Adolfo gently closed the door and began to walk the halls. He quietly cracked the door open so he could see his son sleeping with the covers over his head. He poked his head in and listened for a moment for anything unusual. After Adolfo was satisfied with the silence, he began to close the door creating a creaking noise.
“Dad?”
Adolfo heard his favorite word. He stopped the door and looked back into the room. Phelan was sitting up, rubbing the sand from an eye with the back of his hand.
“Yes, Phelan,” he answered, standing in the doorway.
“What did you mean, tonight?”
Adolfo tried to recall what he was referencing.
“I’m sorry Phelan, what are you talking about?”
Phelan now sat up at the side of the bed with his feet on the floor.
“You mentioned that there was more to tell me from the story about our ancestors, something about our origination.”
“Oh yes, that. Well it’s late, just get some sleep. I’m sure you don’t want to hear about it now?”
“I really do, Dad. If you don’t mind? I’d like to know more about what I am.” Phelan already knew that the use of a certain parental word enabled him to get his way.
Adolfo thought for a moment, then agreed as he took a seat by his son on the bed.
“Well then, what do you want to know?’
“The stuff that you left out.”
Adolfo nodded in agreement.
“I guess you have a right to know the origin of the Lycanthropes. The first thing you need to understand is that the majority of the story is true. I only left out the information, because we were the only Lycans present and it’s important to preserve the secrets of our origin. Do you understand me?”
“Yeah, you don’t want me to repeat the story, but why not? Phelan questioned.
“I will get into that later, but you want the story, don’t you?”
Phelan shook his head quickly in agreement.
“Everything that I mentioned up to the point, where Petro snuck into camp to visit Crina and their occasional rendezvous, was true. However, the part beginning with when the guards beat Petro and forbid him from coming back was cleaned up a bit.
You see, Petro was careless one evening. His love for your great grandmother was uncontrollable. He needed to see her.
One night the guards passed by Crina’s wagon and heard sounds of passion. When they went to investigate, they found Petro and Crina together. The guards immediately seized Petro, beating him and dragging him off to see the king of their camp. When they reached the king, his rage was uncontrollable.
Now, the thing I left out was that one of the men guarding the camp was the animal trainer and the keeper of the wolves. His name was Ion, who just happened to be in love with Crina. When I told you the story earlier, I mentioned Crina heard the sounds of wolves howling. She had escaped to the ends of the woods where she had met Petro. It was really that she was trying to avoid Ion and his many advances.”
“I don’t understand how that has to do with what we are?” Phelan asked, intrigued by the story.
“Well Ion’s mother Merina was a soothsayer. You might now call her a witch. The king was so disgusted with Petro and the thoughts that he had spent nights with his daughter, he ordered Ion to get this wolf out of his sight. As long as the king would never have to lay eyes on Petro ever again, Ion could do as he chose.
The king knew Ion loved his daughter and the worst torture for Petro would be at his hands. However, the king’s words of removing the wolf from his sight, gave Ion an idea. Now, Ion did not treat his wolves well. In fact, they say he beat and whipped them quite often. The wolves were a source of getting coin and that’s all.
He had a word with Merina and a plan for Petro. Ion spiked Petro’s hands and feet to the ground in a clearing in the woods. There Merina started a larger campfire, calling old world demons to her. Legend has it Petro tried to wiggle free, but the pain was excruciating.
Ion arrived at the ceremony with a muzzled wolf at his side. Merina grabbed a silver urn, while Ion drove a knife into the wolf. He slit into the wolf’s neck, letting the blood spray and pour into Merina’s silver chalice.
Once the urn was full, she held it over the fire to a boil. She held it up to the moon, casting a curse on the urn’s contents with the boiling wolf blood inside. Merina handed the silver urn to Ion, who sat on Petro’s chest. He clenched his jaw and poured a stream of hot blood down his throat. Ion shoved his hand over Petro’s mouth and tilted his head up until he swallowed. This was repeated several times until the urn was half-empty.
Ion began to kick and beat the defenseless man, until he was practically dead. They left him in the woods for death, hoping some wild animal would come by and finished the job.”
“I don’t understand, how would he be dead? You said yourself they made him a Lycan.”
“Well that was not their intention. The king called him a wolf, so Ion wanted to poison him with hot boiling and cursed blood. The problem is the witch’s curse did not have the intended outcome of death that Ion was expecting. They killed Petro’s human form, but made him into a wolf. However, he did not become the wolf that man was accustomed to seeing.”
“So what happened to Crina?”
“Ion thought of his opportunity to address his love and gave her an ultimatum. He entered her wagon and forced himself on her. He told her that she was now spoiled and would have to be his. He told her the king was disgusted and had given her to Ion, because she was no longer pure.
Ion continued to force himself on her, but Crina clawed and bit him, until her nails slashed the side of his face and gauged an eye. Ion’s fury ignited and he beat Crina close to death. He grabbed the silver chalice, believing it was poison, and emptied the container into her mouth.”
Phelan laid down waiting for his father to finish the bedtime story. Adolfo tucked covers over his son and began to pace the room as he recounted the story.
“Ion locked Crina away in her wagon. He had beat her senseless and figured she may not live through the night. The next day he checked on her and was surprised to find her breathing.
When he went to the clearing to check on Petro, his body was no longer there. The spikes remained buried into the ground with drops of blood on their surface. Ion figured that some animal came along, finished Petro and dragged off his carcass. Ion moved his wagon near to where Crina resided.”
“That night he heard a strange noise from her wagon. The wolves began growling and crying in their cages, until they all began to howl in unison. Ion could no longer fight his curiosity. He approached Crina’s wagon and unlocked the door.
Immediately, a long clawed hand slashed out, cutting Ion’s shoulder. He fell back and ran to his wagon to grab his whip.”
“He watched in amazement as Crina began to change. He could see Crina’s face begin to form a snout. She looked at him and growled as her muscles pulsated throughout her body. Another guard came to assist Ion, but he ordered him back. Ion slashed his whip as Crina snarled at him.”
“When she began to howl, Ion released the snap of his whip, choking her around the neck. He pulled the whip and dragged the changing Crina on her back. He told the guard to open the empty wolf cage. Crina held the whip around her neck, but didn’t have the strength to fight. The transformation into her new form was draining every bit of energy from her.”
“Finally, Ion dragged her into the cage and locked it. They threw darts with opium tips into her body. He had used these darts to tranquilize his other wolves. The nights following, he kept her drugged in case of another change. He covered her cage so no one would discover his new money maker for the show in the next village. You see Phelan, Ion wasn’t scared, he was too greedy and stupid to be afraid.”
“Then what happened to Petro?”
