“Skinners have always played their cards for everyone to see,” Paige said. “You know we’ll honor the old arrangement if everyone sticks to the old deals.”
“There was no arrangement!” the Full Blood roared. Hearing him bellow made Cole and Paige grip their weapons tight enough for the blood to drip from their hands. The Full Blood sniffed the blood on the air and then leaned forward so he was sure to be heard over the sound of the approaching cops. “There were no deals,” he said in a more reasonable voice. “Since you Skinners have done my work for me this night, we’ve decided to give you this warning. You cannot win a true fight with my kind, no matter how many Skinners you pool together or how many Blood Blades you dig up. As for the rest of the humans, they won’t know what they’re facing until they’ve already fallen.
“We will no longer be hunted by lesser animals,” the Full Blood declared as he lifted Henry up to set him carefully upon his feet. Although the wound was still gaping open in Henry’s side, it was already smaller than it had been a few moments ago. The Full Blood with the charcoal fur stepped in front of Henry, making it known that Paige or Cole would have to go through him if they wanted to finish what Brad’s charmed blade had started.
“Henry comes with me and will tell us everything he’s learned,” the Full Blood said. “No longer will we step back and kindly let you infest our territories. We will reclaim all of our lands, even if that means cleaning out all of your cities. As a courtesy, I give you this warning to spread amongst your kind: when we arrive, you’d be wise to clear our path and find new lands to sully.”
With that, the Full Blood’s body exploded outward into a mass of muscled flesh and a full coat of thick black fur. Massive paws clawed at the ground and a large, wet nose stole Paige’s and Cole’s scent in much the same way as the creature Cole had met so many nights ago in the middle of a stark, Canadian nowhere. When the Full Blood bared its fangs, it let out a roar that melted into a howl as the creature lifted its face to the sky. Henry loped away, and the other Full Blood dashed ahead of him to blaze a trail that quickly took both werewolves out of Cole’s sight.
Walter drove his van toward the parking garage. He hadn’t even come to a complete stop before leaning out and saying, “We’ve got to get out of here. Those cops are ready for war. If this town has a SWAT team, they’re probably on the way too.”
Cole held onto his weapon, feeling very much like a child wielding a plastic bat. Paige cursed under her breath and jumped into the van. Once Cole was inside, she slammed the door and hung on as Walter burned through a few layers of tire rubber in his haste to get back to where the used Cavalier was parked. Paige kept quiet as Cole looked her over. The body armor was gone, but it had protected her from everything other than a whole lot of bumps and scratches.
The moment they got back to the car, Cole slid in behind the wheel and Paige dropped into the passenger seat. She had injected herself with some of the Nymar antidote before Cole even hit the gas. “You all right?” he asked as he followed Walter’s van toward the highway.
She nodded.
“I don’t feel that burning in my hands anymore. Does that mean those Full Bloods are gone?”
Paige chuckled. “That just means they’re at least sixty or seventy yards away. Of course, they could also be halfway to Chicago by now.”
Once the park was behind them, Cole could see several sets of flashing lights clustered near the area where all the bodies had been left behind. There were plenty of cops on the street as well, but they were more concerned with the newly discovered carnage to worry about chasing down every set of taillights moving through the opposite end of town. Walter navigated the Janesville streets and led the way onto southbound I–90. After they’d made it to the open road, Paige’s phone rang. She flipped it open and held it up so they could both listen through the speaker.
“You all right, Paige?” Walter asked.
“I’ll be sore for a year or two, but I’ll live.”
“Good to hear. The police band is jumping,” Walter announced. “They’re saying armed men with matching black tattoos were posted on the streets to shoot at anyone who came too close to the park.”
“Misonyk’s idea of crowd control,” Paige said in a weary voice. “I’m glad you guys killed that asshole. Are the cops looking for us or our vehicles?”
“Not from what I’ve been hearing. From the sound of it, they’re so busy with the mess we left them that we should be able to get out of here without a problem. I know a good route to Chicago using back roads that should get us there in plenty of time for a late night snack.”
“Good. That means we can find a nice spot to stop and do some digging. There’s a Half Breed I’ve got to bury.”
“What? We made it out of there fairly easily, but we don’t need to push our luck!” Walter snapped.
“I’d be dead if it wasn’t for that Half Breed,” Paige replied with even more of an edge in her voice. “The least we can do is put it to rest. You can go on without us if you want.”
After a brief pause, Walter said, “The job’ll go quicker if more of us are digging, but let’s at least wait until we’re farther away from here.”
“Agreed.” With that, Paige snapped the phone shut and smiled. “I knew he’d come around.”
But Cole didn’t have it in him to smile. Every inch of his body hurt. His hands were torn open. Another monster had his scent. Come to think of it, he didn’t think he’d be able to smile for the rest of his life. Then Paige leaned over and placed her mouth so close to his ear that he could feel the warmth of her breath as she spoke.
“You did great, Cole,” she told him. “I owe you, big-time.”
And then, somehow, he smiled.
Epilogue
The bar was a bright, popular place on Michigan Avenue that was filled with televisions, video trivia games, and, on Tuesdays and Thursdays, karaoke machines. The beer came from microbreweries that spiked perfectly good bottles with flavors like pumpkin spice and strawberry. It was crowded almost any time after business hours, which made it the perfect place to speak without truly being heard.
One of the few televisions bolted to the walls that wasn’t showing a sporting event of some kind displayed the headline that had been splashed across TVs and newspapers for the last few days: MASSACRE IN JANESVILLE. Cole didn’t need to hear what the newscaster was saying. It was probably the same as what had been printed in the papers and displayed on the Internet, which was just a longer version of the report Walter had given on their way out of Janesville: police had stumbled across a bunch of armed men that had similar black marks on their necks and wrists. Shots were fired. A chase ensued and a whole lot of bodies were found near an old parking garage in Palmer Park.
“I got a message from Prophet,” Paige said as she sipped her Amber Winter Brew.
Cole chuckled and swallowed some of the Jack’s Pumpkin Ale he’d been talked into ordering. As he lifted the bottle to his mouth, he couldn’t help but notice the light dusting of scar tissue upon his palm. The wounds had healed quickly, but still itched whenever he drove through certain parts of town. “Another dream?” he asked.
“Just a message.” Paige held up her cell phone to show him the glowing, three-word text message: TOLD YOU SO.
“Not one for grace in victory, is he?”
Paige shook her head and put her phone away. “Who would expect that from a guy who lives in strip bars? Have you heard the latest about Janesville?”