Note: This chapter contains minor character death. It happens offscreen so to speak and isn’t described in much detail, but I figured I’d give you a heads-up just in case.
Enjoy!
“What did you say his name was again?”
“James Griffin,” Keith said, “I knew him from high school.”
Pidge sighed and wiped some sweat from her forehead, leaving a streak of flour, “I’m sorry, man. Were the two of you close?”
“Not really. I mean, I knew him, but we didn’t hang out or anything. To be honest, he was a bit of a prick back then. Still, he didn’t deserve to die the way he did.”
Pidge grabbed a carton of eggs and began cracking them into the batter she was making, “That bad, huh?”
“God, it was awful, Pidge. He was all torn up like a bear used him as a scratching post. And the smell. It was like…I can’t even describe it. Lance thinks it was some sort of venom. It was in his bloodstream and it turned Lance’s nose.”
“How’s Lance handling it, by the way?”
“Not bad. It’s not like he hasn’t seen a dead body before.”
“I guess that’s true,” Pidge wiped her hands off on her apron and knocked on the wall behind her. “Hey, Hunk?” she called, “I need a pair of strong baker’s arms to knead this bread.”
Moments later, Pidge’s boyfriend stepped through the wall, “You called?”
Keith jumped a bit.
“Sorry, sorry,” said Hunk, “I should have knocked back. You said something about kneading bread?”
Pidge nodded, “They’re part of our special on baked goods with luck spells. I’ve already mixed the ingredients and put the spell on. All you have to do is knead it for a bit and I’ll put it in the proving drawer.”
“You got it,” said Hunk. He turned toward the lump of dough, “How about it, buddy? Do you need me to knead you?”
Pidge snorted.
“What? It’s very beneficial to talk to your food.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“Quiet now, I need to concentrate,” Hunk, being a ghost, could interact with physical objects, but only if his attention wasn’t taken by other things, like talking.
Pidge stepped back to let Hunk do his work, “Do the police have any leads yet?”
Keith shook his head, “I don’t think any of the guys at the station have had to investigate something like this before. The most exciting call they get is noise complaints for house parties. They might bring in a private investigator or something.”
“It’s too bad they don’t have a good scryer on the force. They’d clear this mystery up in a heartbeat.”
“Yeah…” said Keith. After a few moments of silence, he looked up, “Hey, Pidge…do you know how to scry?”
“Yeah, of course. Dad taught Matt and me how to scry when we were, like, little kids. Wait…” Pidge turned toward Keith, “Do you want me to…”
“I’m just saying, it might help the police find the lead they need. We could leave an anonymous tip, point them in the right direction. And…I don’t know, Griffin and I weren’t great to each other in life. I feel like I owe him at least this much.”
“Well, I guess it wouldn’t hurt to try.”
“Now wait a minute,” Hunk dropped the bread dough on the counter, “Pidge, didn’t you tell me once that it was a bad idea to mess with the dead? That they could be hard to handle?”
“I handle you just fine, don’t I?”
“Yeah, but that’s because of my naturally friendly disposition.”
“Listen, if you’re nervous, then come with me. I could use your help anyway. Lance should probably come too, since he was there when you found the body.”
Keith nodded, “I’ll let him know. When are we doing this?”
“Tomorrow. At sunset, if possible. We’re gonna crack this case wide open.”
***
“Let’s get right to it, agents,” said Iverson, taking a seat at the steel table across from Shiro and Allura, “Have either of you heard of a town called New Altea?”
“No,” said Shiro, at the same time Allura said, “Yes”.
“Care to share what you know, Agent Prince?”
“My father had some friends in the area. We used to go there when I was little. It’s at a cross between two ley lines, isn’t it? So supernatural activity there is unusually high.”
“I’ll give you half credit, Agent Prince. Supernatural activity in New Altea is unusually high. But it’s not just a crossroad between two ley lines. It’s a crossroad between four ley lines.”
“Four?” said Shiro, “Is that even possible?”
“It’s rare, certainly, but not unheard of. Now that you’re familiar with the town of New Altea, I’d like you to meet one of its residents.”
Iverson picked up the small remote sitting in front of him and turned on the television screen behind him. A slideshow began playing, the first slide featuring a photo of a young Caucasian man with brown hair.
“Meet James Griffin. Twenty-three years old. Lived his whole life in New Altea. Twenty-four hours ago, he was found dead in the woods surrounding the town.”
Iverson clicked to the next slide, which featured a photo of what was obviously Griffin’s dead body. Shiro felt the sandwich he’d had for lunch churn in his stomach.
“Now,” said Iverson, “Any idea what did that to him?”
“A mountain lion?” suggested Allura.
“Not big enough.”
“A grizzly bear?” said Shiro.
“Not in this part of the country.”
“A black bear, then.”
“Black bears usually aren’t that aggressive to humans this time of year.”
“Well, what killed him then?” said Allura, “A wolf? What could possibly be big enough to do something like that?”
“Funny you should mention wolves, Agent Prince. I think it’s time you met suspect number one.”
Iverson clicked to the next slide again. Another young man’s face appeared on the screen, with dark eyes and black hair that went down to his shoulders.
“Agents, this is Keith Kogane. Mr. Kogane here is of interest to us for three reasons. First, he was present when the body was found. Second, disciplinary records show that he had a habit of getting into fights with Mr. Griffin back in high school. Third, and perhaps most interesting of all, he’s a werewolf.”
Shiro shook his head, “So you think this guy…this kid…did that to that other guy?”
“That is exactly what I think, yes.”
“Sir, with all due respect, that’s not a lot of evidence to go on.”
“I understand, but it’s the only evidence we have right now.”
“But I just don’t think it rules out the possibility of an animal attack. In order for the PBI to warrant an investigation, there has to be sufficient evidence of paranormal involvement—“
“I’m well aware of what the policy states, agent,” snapped Iverson, “Would you rather I give you a different assignment? You know the PBI’s been itching to learn more about your brother…”
Shiro’s hands clenched into fists, “No, sir.”
“Very good,” said Iverson. He reached into his briefcase and dropped two manila folders on the table, “Here’s everything we have so far on the suspect. Study up. I expect you to be on the road by tomorrow morning.”
After Iverson had left the room, Allura put a hand on Shiro’s shoulder, “He shouldn't have said that.”
“No, he’s right, I was pushing too hard.”
“Still, he shouldn’t have brought up your brother like that. He knows as well as I do that your family wants to be left alone,” she rubbed his shoulder soothingly, “Why did you push him?”
“I don’t really know. Something about this case just doesn’t sit right. I mean, look at Suspect Number One up there,” Shiro gestured toward the television, which was still displaying Keith Kogane’s face, “Does that kid look like the type of guy who would slash someone to ribbons?”
“You have a point,” said Allura, “Still, maybe things will be more clear once we get there. For now, I’d better head home.” She scooped up her folder, “Got lots of homework tonight.”
“See you tomorrow, then,” said Shiro as she walked out the door. He grabbed his own folder and pulled it toward him, flipping it open, “Well, Keith Kogane, I hope my hunch about you is right. Let’s get to know you a little better.”
The mystery gang launches their first investigation while Shiro and Allura visit an old friend
Note: Contains discussion of religion. Coran works as an (admittedly very chill) priest and some of the topics they discuss have theological implications. Nothing too heavy, just thought I’d give you guys a heads-up
Also, as always, contains minor character death and generally scary shit (it is a supernatural au after all)
Enjoy!
“Just so we’re clear, if we end up getting arrested for tampering with a crime scene, I’m going on record and saying I was against this idea.”
“They can’t arrest you for anything, Hunk,” said Keith as the group hiked through the woods, “You’re dead.”
“Well, that doesn’t seem very fair,” said Lance, “I’m dead and the police have never had any trouble arresting me.”
Pidge was leading the group, holding up a compact mirror like she was trying to get a better signal on her cell phone, “Keith, are we getting close?”
“It’s just over this hill,” said Keith, “I can smell it.”
“Ugh, me too,” said Lance, wrinkling his nose, “You’d think the smell would have dissipated by now.”
They must have been getting close because now even Hunk could smell the stench and, as far as he could tell, his senses had diminished after death. It smelled a bit like a zoo exhibit, something about it suggesting an animal to him, only it must have been far stronger because whatever was left of Hunk’s fight-or-flight response was kicking in hard. He had the distinct impression of wanting to be anywhere but here.
Pidge was the first to reach the top of the hill. She looked over the rise, froze, and immediately dove down so that she was laying in the underbrush.
“Shit!” she whispered, “Cops.”
The boys all ducked down and joined her, looking cautiously over the hill. Sure enough, the area where Griffin’s body had been found was bordered off by police tape stretched between trees while two bored-looking police officers stood guard.
“How are we gonna get rid of them?” asked Pidge, “I’ve got to be near the place this guy died in order for this to work.”
“I think I have an idea,” said Lance, and he leaned over and whispered something into Keith’s ear.
“Are you kidding?! No!” said Keith.
“Do you have a better plan?”
“I’m not doing that, it’s humiliating.”
“Come on, Keith, this was your idea. You’ve gotta work with me here.”
“Ugh, fine. But you owe me after this.”
“That’s the spirit, babe!” said Lance. He reached over and flicked Keith on the forehead, “Now, think angry thoughts.”
“Do I even want to know what you’re doing?” asked Hunk.
“You’ll see in a minute,” said Lance, before turning back to Keith, “Think about all those times Romelle stole the last ice cream bar. Think about the time I forgot date night last month.”
Keith huffed and growled and began to change, expanding into his wolf form. Hunk looked down, not particularly keen on watching his friend’s bones shift beneath his skin. Once it sounded like Keith had calmed down a bit, he looked back up and found himself staring at a wolf.
“Keith? Are you still you?” said Lance cautiously.
The wolf made a nodding motion.
“Great, now I need you to run in…” Lance indicated a path that would take Keith right past the policemen, “that direction.”
Immediately, Keith took off and Lance raced after him, running right past the police.
“Cosmo!” Lance called, “Cosmo, come back here! Come to daddy!”
“What the…?” Hunk heard one of the officers say.
“Hey!” Lance called to the cops, “Hey, can you help me? My dog got away from me! I don’t want him running onto the road!”
“Sir? Sir, your dog should really be on a leash!” yelled one officer.
“Jesus, it’s big,” the other officer said to himself, “The hell kind of breed is that?”
“Come on, let’s go!”
There was the sound of feet running though the undergrowth and when Hunk looked over the hill again, the two officers were gone.
“Well, that worked,” said Pidge, “Come on, they’ll be back soon.”
As expected, the body had already been taken off the sight, but there was still evidence of the gruesome scene: dried blood making rusty patches on the ground, saplings and tree branches newly snapped, and that horrible scent permeating everything.
“I think it was here,” said Pidge, indicating a patch of ground that had the biggest bloodstain. She knelt down next to it and pulled out her compact mirror, “Fair warning, I’m about to go into a trance-like state. If I lose control or it seems like it’s hurting me, I need you to shake me out of it.”
“I will,” said Hunk.
Pidge nodded, satisfied. She looked down at the mirror and began to mutter incantations.
After a few moments, Hunk was pretty sure he could feel another presence. Something no longer alive like him, but not as fully formed, something that had once been a living soul but had lost its definition. Hunk was intensely reminded of his existence before Pidge had moved him to the bakery, a shadow of himself, only full of restlessness at being incomplete.
Pidge stared hard into the mirror, concentrating. Hunk watched as her focused stare turned into a frown. Then, her eyes widened.
She must be getting something, Hunk thought.
He watched as Pidge continued to take in whatever the mirror was showing her. Her eyes flicked back and forth across the surface and her breathing began to get heavier. There was fear in her expression, more fear than Hunk had ever seen on her before.
“Pidge?”
Pidge did not respond to him. Her next breath came out as a sob.
“Pidge, you okay? What do you see?”
Pidge opened her mouth and screamed, a shriek that pierced right through him. Immediately, he reached out and knocked the mirror from her hand. She swayed and he put his hands on her shoulders to steady her.
“Hey! Hey, Pidge, look at me!”
She slumped forward and was only prevented from falling through Hunk because his focus was already on her. She leaned against him while he whispered, “It’s okay, it’s okay” and smoothed her hair down.
In the distance, the sound of Lance’s voice reached him.
“I just can’t thank you enough, officers…”
“Next time, we expect you to keep your pet on a leash. A dog that big shouldn’t be running around loose in these woods.”
“Of course, sir, I understand.”
Shit, they couldn’t be found here. Come on, Hunk, if you can carry five trays of muffins at once, you can carry your girlfriend. Carefully, cautiously, Hunk picked Pidge up and ducked under the police tape, returning to the spot where the group had previously hidden.
Lance and Keith joined him a moment later, Keith shifting back into his human form.
“Cosmo?” he said, “Really? That’s the best dog name you can come up with?”
“Well, I didn’t exactly have time to workshop it,” said Lance, before noticing Pidge, “Hey, what happened? Is she okay?”
“I don’t know,” said Hunk, “Pidge? Pidge, can you hear me?”
Pidge stirred and Hunk set her down on the ground so she could sit up.
“What happened?” he asked, “Did you see anything?”
“I did,” Pidge nodded, still swaying from dizziness, “I…I think I saw James Griffin’s death.”
“Well, what happened to him?” asked Keith.
“He was running from some kind of animal. It was a…a…I don’t even know what it was. It was dark and he couldn’t see well, but it…it was chasing him and…and it was so big, guys, bigger than anything you’ve ever seen. At one point, he looked back at it and it looked at him and it…” Pidge shuddered.
“Shh, it’s okay,” said Hunk, “You take it easy. I’ll carry you back if you want.”
“I don’t know about you guys,” said Lance, “but I’ve got more questions than answers now.”
But Pidge shook her head, “Guys, whatever this thing is…if it’s loose in these woods, then we’re all in danger.”
***
Shiro and Allura found Coran in the sanctuary, setting up for evening Mass.
“Welcome to St. Groggery’s,” he said over his shoulder, “I’m a bit busy at the moment, but if you’re looking for information on the church, there should be a newsletter available in the welcome center.”
“Coran, it’s me,” said Allura.
Coran turned and a smile spread across his face. He jogged down the aisle and gave Allura a big hug.
“Dear girl, it’s good to see you! I almost forgot what you look like! You’re doing well, I hope?”
“As well as can be expected,” said Allura, “I’d like you to meet my partner, Takashi Shirogane.”
“Call me Shiro. Allura’s told me so much about you.”
Coran gave Shiro a handshake, “Pleasure to meet you. What brings you two back to New Altea?”
“A case we’re working on,” said Allura, “We just stopped by to say hi.”
“It’s the Griffin boy, isn’t it? Nasty business, that.”
“Did you know him?” asked Shiro.
“Not personally,” said Coran, “His folks were Presbyterian. Not that I hold that against them, of course,” he added quickly.
“Let me ask this, then. You haven’t heard anything about him from…higher sources?”
Coran raised an eyebrow, “Allura told you about my little party trick, did she?”
Shiro shrugged, “It came up once or twice.”
“Then I assume you didn’t just drop by to say hi.”
“We just want to make sure we’ve got as much information going into this case as possible. Anything you can tell us would be extremely helpful.”
Coran sat down heavily in a nearby pew and motioned for the others to do the same, “What you need to understand about my gift is that it’s not a two-way conversation. It’s more like television, you know? The boys upstairs send messages, images really, and I receive them. I can’t just play twenty questions whenever I want.”
“Well then,” said Allura, “Have they sent you any messages lately?”
Coran thought for a moment. “They did. In fact…I think they may have sent a message for you specifically.”
Shiro and Allura leaned forward.
“Mind you, I have no idea whether this has anything to do with the case you’re investigating. But last night, I had a dream about a beast.”
“What kind of beast?” Shiro sat forward.
“I couldn’t really tell. That’s the annoying thing about dreams, once you try to remember what happened, it leaks out of your mind like a sieve. I just remember a big, dark animal of some kind. And when I say big, I mean big. This thing was so big, it picked up the entire town in its claws and swallowed it down like a handful of popcorn.”
“Sounds a bit bigger than a werewolf to me,” said Allura, just loud enough for Shiro to hear.
“Needless to say, it rattled me a bit. Apocalyptic visions of a beast are usually a bad sign in my profession. There was something else, though. Four individuals appeared in my dream. A leader, a protector, a scholar, and a wanderer. Whoever they are, it seems like they’ll be important to you.”
“That’s it?” said Shiro, “Can you give us anything besides that? Names? Physical descriptions? Anything besides their D&D classes?”
“Listen, I got all this from a dream, not a dating profile. If you want more information, you can ask the higher-ups themselves. Who knows, maybe they’ll give you my job and I can finally retire.”
“You’ve been very helpful, Coran, really,” said Allura, patting his hand reassuringly, “Shiro and I should probably go though, we’ve got an interview to conduct. We’ll get lunch together sometime before I leave.”
Coran nodded, “Excellent idea. Good luck on your case, by the way. If you need any help, I’ll be more than happy to lend it.”
As they were about to walk out the door, Shiro turned back, “One last question?”
“Of course.”
“Your visions…how do you know that’s what they are? How do you know they’re not just weird dreams?”
Coran thought for a moment, “Do you know how I knew that vision was meant for you?”
“How?”
“Because you were in it. As clearly as I see you now. The face, the voice, the prosthetic, everything. Here’s the thing though, I’ve seen pictures of you, but only your face. I’ve never seen your prosthetic before and Allura’s never mentioned it to me. Until today, I had no idea it existed. But you had it in my dream.”
Finally our protagonists begin to cross paths. Lance is an old, old man, Keith makes some new friends(?), and Shiro and Allura are now working under a deadline.
Enjoy!
Keith looked over his boyfriend’s shoulder as he tapped away at his laptop, “Anything?”
“Nothing so far. Granted, the search terms ‘big dangerous animal’ aren’t very specific.”
He and Lance had decided to do a bit of research to see if they could figure out what kind of creature Pidge had seen while scrying. The search brought up plenty of animals, bears, moose, timber wolves and the like, but none seemed to be native to this area.
As Keith watched Lance scroll through pages and pages of “What To Do If a Bear Attacks You”, Romelle poked her head into Keith’s room.
“Laundry day, today,” she said, “Got any whites?”
Keith gestured to the hamper behind him, eyes still glued to the computer screen.
As Romelle picked the hamper up, she glanced over at the pair, “What are you two doing anyway?”
Lance snapped the laptop shut. “Nothing,” he said too quickly.
Way to not look suspicious, Lance, Keith thought, rolling his eyes. “I’m helping Lance set up a Facebook profile. It’s time to make this old geezer a proper twenty-first century man.”
Romelle snorted, “Just say you’re watching porn together, Keith, it’s okay.” She balanced the hamper on her hip and left the room.
Once she was gone, Lance turned around to glare at Keith, “‘Setting up my Facebook profile’? Really? Now your sister’s gonna think I’m useless with technology.”
“It’s because you are useless with technology.”
“Am not!”
“Lance, you yelled at the Blu-ray player last weekend because it ate your copy of Ghostbusters.”
“It wouldn’t give it back!”
Keith was about to list off more examples of Lance’s hopelessness with technology, when the sound of the doorbell interrupted him.
“Keith, were you expecting someone?” Romelle’s voice carried up from downstairs.
“Mom probably just forgot her house keys again,” Keith called back.
Keith heard the sound of the door being opened and two voices talking. One was clearly Romelle’s and the other was one he hadn’t heard before, a man’s voice. After a moment, the conversation stopped and was replaced by the sound of Romelle’s footsteps on the stairs.
“It’s two people in suits,” said Romelle, poking her head back in the doorway, “They want to talk to you.”
“Huh,” Keith got up from his chair and followed Romelle out of the room.
“Do you think they’re social workers?” Romelle whispered to him, “Are they here to take me away?”
“You’re eighteen now, Romelle, they’re not legally allowed to take you away.” said Keith, but his insides had begun to churn. Eighteen might be the year humans became legal adults, but he had no idea what kind of rules applied to changelings.
Through the doorway, Keith could see the two individuals Romelle was talking about. One was a tall Asian man with a scar across the bridge of his nose, wearing a crisp black suit and tie. The other was a black woman with shockingly white hair, also neatly dressed in a black blazer and matching pencil skirt.
“Keith Kogane?” the man asked.
“Yeah?” said Keith.
“I’m Agent Shirogane and this is Agent Prince,” the man reached out for a handshake.
“Nice to meet you,” said Keith, taking the handshake and jumping a bit when his hand met with cool metal.
“We have a few questions we’d like to ask you about the recent death of James Griffin. May we come in?” said the woman.
“Uh…sure,” Keith waved them into the living room, filled with relief that they weren’t here for Romelle, followed by apprehension that, apparently, they were here for him.
The two agents sat down on the couch while Keith sat across from them. The female agent picked up a bit of fur that had rubbed off the couch cushion onto her skirt. She let it float to the ground, frowning.
“Sorry about the hair,” said Keith, “We haven’t vacuumed in a while in here.”
“Do you have a dog?” said the male agent.
Whoops. “We, uh, dog-sit for the neighbors a lot.”
The man, Agent Shirogane, apparently, decided to drop it, “So, Keith, if I understand correctly, you’re the one who originally found the body. Is that correct?”
Keith shifted in his seat, “Yes. Well…I mean, me and my family.”
“So your family was with you?” said Agent Prince, “What were you doing at the time?”
“Going for a hike,” said Keith.
“At night?”
“It’s…quieter then.”
“As I understand it,” said Agent Shirogane, “You and Mr. Griffin were in the same class in high school.”
“Yeah, I guess we were.”
“Did you know him?”
“Well, it was a small class. Everyone kind of knew everyone.”
“I see. Would you say the two of you were particularly close?”
“Not…really. He had his own group of friends and I kept to myself mostly.”
“Was there ever any tension between you?”
“Tension?”
Agent Shirogane nodded, “Did you two ever get into any fights, arguments, things like that?”
The living room carpet was suddenly fascinating to Keith, “I mean…maybe once or twice? He was…We just didn’t get along.”
“Keith,” said Agent Prince, “We need you to be honest with us.”
“Yeah…yeah, we fought a few times. He said some things about my family I didn’t like.”
“Can you be more specific?”
“I would rather not.”
Keith waited for the two agents to press the issue, but they simply nodded and Agent Shirogane said, “I’d like to hear more about you, Keith. Can you tell us a little bit about yourself?”
“Well…” said Keith, “I’m twenty-two. I work at the bike repair on Main Street. I, uh, live here with my mom and my sister. You’ve met her already.”
“The girl with the pigtails,” said Agent Shirogane, nodding, “Am I right in thinking one of you is adopted?”
“What gave it away? The different ethnicities?”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”
“No, it’s fine, we get it a lot. Romelle’s the adopted one.”
“I assume your mother and sister were the ones hiking with you the night you found the body?” said Agent Prince.
“Well, it was my whole family, really. I, um, have a large extended family.”
“It’s nice that you’re so close to them,” said Agent Shirogane, “Was anyone else with you at the time?”
“Well, there was…” Keith began to say before he heard footsteps on the stairs.
Lance poked his head out of the stairwell, “Everything okay down here?”
“Yeah,” said Keith, “We were just…” He turned and, to his surprise, the two agents were on their feet, looking up at Lance in shock.
“Am I interrupting something?” said Lance.
“No, no, you’re good. These two are just here to investigate the Griffin case,” Keith turned toward the agents, “This is my boyfriend, Lance.”
Agent Shirogane cleared his throat, “Yes, well, it’s nice to meet you. We should really be going, though. Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Kogane.”
They were halfway out the door before Keith could even get out a “no problem”.
“What did those two want?” said Lance.
“They just wanted to ask me some questions about Griffin.”
“Is that all? And here I was hoping they were here to proposition you.”
“Lance!”
“What? They were good-looking! I mean, did you see that lady? She was gorgeous! And the guy was a total dreamboat! You should have asked them to stay for drinks.”
Keith rolled his eyes, “I’m not going to risk getting arrested just so you can have some eye candy to look at over dinner. I feel like I’m in enough trouble as it is.”
“Why would you be in trouble?”
Keith rubbed his arm, “I dunno, I just…I got the vibe they were trying to get me to confess to something but they didn’t want to come out and say what.”
“Hey, listen, you’ve done nothing wrong. You were just there when the body was found and they want to interview all the eyewitnesses”
“Then why didn’t they interview you? You were there too.”
“Maybe they plan on it. Maybe they’ll knock on my door tomorrow and then I can invite them to stay for drinks.”
Keith laughed, but it did little to chase away the uneasiness settling in his stomach.
***
“Lance McClain? The Lance McClain?”
“The Blue Nomad himself,” said Shiro, scrolling through the PBI files open on his laptop. The two of them had come to this coffee shop to regroup and process what they had just discovered.
Allura took a sip from the mocha she had ordered, “Well, I guess that clears up the mystery of where he went after dropping off our radar.”
Shiro nodded, “Jeez, this guy’s had a lot of aliases. Alejandro Espinosa, Leandro Alvarez, Isamu Kurogane — that’s from a stint in Japan.”
“What was he doing in Japan?”
“Apparently he went over with a group of Jesuits and decided to take a decade-long vacation.”
“He’s certainly lived a full life,” said Allura, “Who was he originally?”
“Carlos Montoya,” said Shiro, scrolling to the bottom of the file, “Born in Cuba in the early 1500s. His father must have been a conquistador. It says here he turned during a smallpox outbreak but that’s about all we know about him.”
“Well, what’s he doing in a small American town? With a werewolf boyfriend no less?”
Shiro shrugged, “Maybe he got tired of wandering.”
“Think he has anything to do with the Griffin case?”
“It…doesn’t really seem like a vampire’s work, but I suppose we can’t leave out any possibility.”
A middle-aged woman in a waitress uniform approached their table. Her name tag read “Colleen”.
“Can I get you a refill, ma’am?” Colleen said to Allura.
“I’m all right for now, thank you,” said Allura, “It’s very good, though.”
Colleen nodded, “My customers always say our drinks seem to make their whole day go better. You folks in town for the All Hallows Eve Festival?”
“The what?”
“Big annual event coming up this weekend. People come from all over the state to sell handmade crafts, baked goods, that sort of thing. You should stop by, we’ll have a booth set up by the town square this year.”
“We’ll be sure to check it out,” said Allura, giving the woman a polite nod.
“I hope to see you there. Oh, and if it’s vampire legends you’re interested in, you should talk to my daughter. She’s quite the researcher when it comes to local folklore.”
Shiro realized with a start that his laptop was still open, “Yes…well…thank you for the coffee.”
“Of course. Let me know if you need anything else.”
Once she was out of earshot, Shiro turned back to Allura, “The All Hallows Eve Festival? That’s not good news. People from all over the country coming here when there’s a man-eating monster on the loose?”
Allura nodded, “Well, now we’ve got a deadline. We have until this weekend to find out what killed James Griffin and stop it.”
THE GRAND FINALE! Keith distributes in-flight snacks, Coran speaks with his supervisors, and Lance is half the man he used to be.
Hope you’ve all enjoyed reading this fic as much as I’ve enjoyed sharing it!
At first, Keith assumed his near-death experience was making him see things. Surely that wasn’t the actual grendel stalking its way down the street. Surely it couldn’t be that big. Surely the screams of terror were just in his head and not actually being made by the festival-goers.
Sadly, lack of oxygen couldn’t be blamed for this one.
His previous encounter with the grendel hadn’t prepared him for how tall it would be. If anything, it seemed bigger now. Seeing it in the woods when he couldn’t quite make out its form had been terrifying enough. Now, in the harsh light of day, the sight of it only froze his blood more. It made it more profane, somehow, to see it in the sunlight among the brightly colored booths and banners. More shocking in its wrongness.
The thing waded in among the tables, kicking them to the side effortlessly and reaching out with its impossibly long, gnarled fingers, trying to catch pedestrians as they scattered before it like rats.
Shiro and Allura, to their credit, were valiantly trying to evacuate the crowd, directing people to get indoors, away from the monster.
“You guys need to get out of here!” said Shiro, ushering people into the hardware store.
“Do you even have a plan to stop that thing?” said Lance.
“We’re open to suggestions,” said Allura.
“There’s gotta be some way to stop it, right?” said Keith, “Everything’s got a weakness. Silver, garlic, that sort of thing. Pidge, please tell me you came across a weakness while you were researching this thing.”
But Pidge was shaking her head, “If it has a weakness, no one’s discovered it yet. It’s immune to everything. I mean, think about it, it’s pure evil. How are you supposed to kill—?“ She froze.
“You just got an idea, didn’t you?”
Pidge pointed toward her family’s booth, “Those treats we made for the festival. They’ve got anti-evil wards on them. They’re pretty low-level individually, but if we got the grendel to eat all of them all together…”
“It’s worth a shot,” said Shiro, “There’s one problem, though. How are we gonna get this thing to eat them? I don’t think muffins are on its diet.”
But now it was Keith’s turn to have an idea. “I think I know what to do. Shiro, Allura, get as many people out of harm’s way as you can.”
“Already done,” said Allura.
“Mom, Lance, Romelle, I need you guys to distract it. Run around, confuse it, but don’t let it catch you. If you see any other pack members, tell them to do the same.”
“You better not be planning on doing something stupid,” said Lance.
“It’ll only be stupid if it doesn’t work,” said Keith, “Hunk, I need you to gather up those treats Pidge was talking about, as many as you can.”
“Got it,” said Hunk.
“And what about me?” said Pidge, “What should I do?”
“Follow me.”
Keith pulled Pidge across the street and into the hardware store. He pushed past the people huddled in fright near the door and into the cleaning supplies isle.
“You mind explaining to me what we’re doing in here?” said Pidge.
“Looking for something that will let us get close to the monster without being eaten.”
“Somehow I don’t think Windex and toilet brushes are gonna do that for us.”
“No, but this might.”
Keith reached up and pulled a broom off the shelf.
Pidge groaned, “Are you serious? A witch making a broomstick fly? That’s such a stereotype!”
“Can you do it or not?”
“Of course I can do it, I’m the most talented goddamn witch in town.”
Keith and Pidge pushed their way through the crowd once more and raced back outside. Hunk was hurriedly gathering muffins, donuts, and tarts onto one of the trays.
“I think this is all of them,” he said, “Let’s hope it’s enough.”
Keith flipped up the front of his shirt to make a pouch and Hunk poured the treats in.
“Pidge, how’s it coming with the flying broomstick?”
“Almost there,” said Pidge, taking a small piece of chalk out of her pocket and drawing runes on the handle of the broom.
The grendel, meanwhile, was thankfully preoccupied, distracted by the many wolves now running circles around its feet. Keith recognized Kolivan, Antok, and of course his own mother, with Romelle riding along on her back. Lance seemed to be holding his own too, darting in close to the monster and then scrambling out of reach once it spotted him.
“Over here!” he yelled, whacking the beast with his umbrella, “Kiss my ass, you ugly fucker!”
But as quick as he was, the grendel was just a little bit faster. It scooped him up in its claws and lifted him up to eye level.
“Come on!” Lance spat at the monster, “You want a piece of me?”
Apparently it did. The grendel gripped Lance with both hands and ripped him in half, tossing the two halves aside.
“Lance, no!” Keith screamed.
“Keith, we gotta go!” Pidge yelled, now standing astride the broomstick.
“No! No, Lance—!”
“He’s a vampire, he’ll be fine! But we gotta stop this thing!”
She was right, of course. There was no time for fear or even anger. Keith adjusted his makeshift pouch of baked goods and swung a leg over the broomstick behind Pidge.
In a way, riding the broomstick was a bit like riding a bike. If that bike had no seat and would lead to instant death if you fell off. Keith gripped Pidge’s shoulder with one hand while trying to keep treats from spilling out of his shirt with the other.
“How do you want to do this?” Pidge shouted above the noise of the wind whistling past them.
“Just fly directly above it. I’ll figure it out from there.”
In truth, he didn’t have much of a plan. His first idea was to dump the treats as they flew over the mouth, but the risk of missing and losing the pastries was too great. A more direct approach was needed and Keith didn’t like what it entailed.
Pidge steered the broom upward. She circled the grendel’s head once, twice, to get its attention, then hovered over its massive head. The beast craned its neck up to get a good look at them, growling lowly in its throat, its head pointed straight up.
“Now what?” said Pidge.
“Now your job’s done,” said Keith, slipping off the back of the broom.
Pidge’s cries for him to stop were lost as the air whistled past his ears.
Somehow, he managed to land on his feet. The beast’s mouth was still closed and Keith had landed on the tip of its muzzle, his legs straddling its lips.
He swayed, the vertigo of being up so high making him dizzy. The grendel glared up at him with its glowing malicious eyes. It opened its mouth slightly, nearly causing Keith to lose his balance, and snarled, its long, sinuous tongue unfurling from its jaws and reaching up for Keith.
Keith let go of the hem of his shirt and a cascade of muffins and donuts fell into the creature’s mouth.
The effects were immediate. The grendel writhed in pain as it realized its mistake. The motion knocked Keith off balance and he flew a good distance through the air before landing hard on the street below. He had the good sense to roll as he landed, minimizing the damage, but it didn’t prevent him from hearing a loud snap! and feeling a sharp pain in his ankle.
He rolled onto his side, facing the grendel just in time to see it fall to the ground. It squirmed on the pavement and screeched in pain as wisps of smoke escaped its mouth. Finally, it gave a great groan, shuddered once, twice, three times, and was still.
Keith rolled onto his back and closed his eyes, exhaustion catching up to him.
Shiro was the first to reach him.
“Keith. Hey, Keith. Come on, wake up, this isn’t a great place for a nap.”
Keith groaned. He didn’t feel like moving from this spot ever again.
“Come on, buddy, I need you to stay with me. Are you okay?”
“Yes,” said Keith, “No. I think my ankle’s broken.”
“I’ll get you some medical attention, Keith, don’t worry. Here, give me your arm.”
Shiro slung Keith’s arm over his shoulder and helped him hobble off to the sidewalk where the injured were being gathered. He set him down next to Lance, who was lying in the shade. Or at least most of him was.
“Did we win?” said Lance, who seemed to be just regaining consciousness himself.
“Yeah, I think we did,” said Keith, “How are you feeling?”
“I feel fine,” said Lance, but he then frowned and wriggled a bit, “Why can’t I feel my legs?”
“Well…”
Lance propped himself up on his elbows and looked down at where his legs were supposed to be, “Well, shit. That’s no good.”
Meanwhile, Pidge had landed her broom and was now rushing over with Hunk close on her heels.
“You dumbass!” she snapped, hitting Keith over the head with the brush end of the broom, “Dammit, Keith, warn me next time you’re about to do dumb shit like that!”
“Hey, when you’re done abusing my poor brave heroic boyfriend, do you think you could go look for my legs? I seem to have misplaced them,” said Lance.
“I gotcha, buddy,” said Hunk, turning and searching the nearby tables for Lance’s other half.
“In all seriousness, though,” said Lance softly, placing his hand over Keith’s, “I do think you were very brave.”
Keith was about to reply when he was nearly tackled by his mother and Romelle, who pulled him into a hug.
“Ow! Mom, watch the leg,” he groaned, which earned him a bit of personal space.
There were tears spilling out of Krolia’s eyes. “My brave pup,” she whispered, stroking his hair, “I’m so proud of you.”
“As am I,” Keith looked up and saw Kolivan smiling down at him, with most of the pack gathered around him, “What you did was heroic. An action worthy of an alpha.”
“I don’t know about that,” said Keith, blushing and looking away. Lance squeezed his hand and gave him a reassuring smile.
Krolia helped him lean back so he could lay his head in her lap, “The others will find a medic to look at your leg. Just relax now, sweetheart, okay? You’ve earned it.”
***
In his time on earth, Lance had survived many things. Being burnt, stabbed, hanged, drowned, shot at, bludgeoned over the head, and even, thanks to an ill-timed vacation to France, decapitated.
Being ripped in half was a new one for him, though.
Eventually, Hunk did find his legs. They were on the next street over, wandering around in search of a torso. Shiro held him still while Hunk lined them up so they could be reattached properly.
Once he was all in one piece again, Lance got up to look around for a medic to look after Keith. It had been a while since his fall and his ankle was still very obviously broken. Not that he blamed the first-responders for their inattention. Sadly, there were many, many injuries to be tended to.
He noticed Shiro standing near an overturned booth and waved to get his attention. “Hey, do you think someone could—“ But Shiro held a finger to his lips to shush him and pointed.
Coran was standing a few feet away, talking to a very tall…someone. It hurt for Lance to look at them directly, like staring into the sun too long. All he could really make out was that the person was easily a head taller than anyone else in the crowd, had six enormous wings unfolding from their back, and had about a thousand eyes on every available surface of their body. The being put a hand on Coran’s shoulder and said something Lance couldn’t hear. Coran nodded and the being disappeared in a flash of light.
Lance blinked the spots out of his eyes, “Was that…?”
“A messenger,” said Coran, “I guess you could think of them as my supervisor.”
Shiro was also rubbing his eyes to get his vision back to normal, “You’d think they’d choose a more…user-friendly appearance.”
“That was their user-friendly appearance. But the good news is, they left me a few gifts! For one, I now have the gift of divine healing. They figured I’d need it with this crowd.”
“Okay, cool,” said Lance, “‘Cause Keith’s ankle is still hella broken.”
“Right. I’ll get on that.”
“What was their other gift?” said Shiro.
“Oh, right,” Coran reached into his coat pocket and pulled out Lotor, who looked about as unhappy as a teddy bear could, “They also put a sacred seal on our fuzzy new friend here. He won’t be getting out of this form for quite some time.”
“You cannot do this!” Lotor protested, “This is cruel! It’s inhumane!”
“You should be used to it then,” said Coran, just as the group reached Keith, “Ah, there you are, my boy! How’s the ankle?”
“Uh…not great,” said Keith, “I mean, it’s feeling a little better but it still—“
Coran placed his hand on Keith’s ankle. There was a loud pop! and Keith gave a yelp, more out of surprise than pain.
“Now how does it feel?”
Keith held his leg up in the air and rolled his ankle a few times. “Better. Much better.”
Pidge and Hunk, who were helping to clear away the tables and debris, came over to join the group. “You feeling better, man?” asked Hunk.
“I am now,” said Keith, getting to his feet.
Coran tossed Lotor to Pidge, “I believe your mother bought this for you? Something about putting him on the counter to encourage tips.”
Lotor crossed his stubby arms, “I will not be put on display like some tacky knick-knack.”
“Are you sure?” said Pidge, “I could always donate you to a local preschool otherwise.”
“Oh, all right, I’ll take the lesser of two evils.”
“Are you guys doing all right?” Lance asked Hunk and Pidge.
“Well, I just watched all of yesterday’s hard work get dumped down the throat of a giant man-eating monster,” said Hunk, “but on the bright side, we did defeat it and save the town, so that’s cool.”
Coran nudged Shiro’s arm, “See? I told you they’d be useful.”
“When…did you say that exactly?”
“When I was telling you about my vision,” said Coran, “Remember the four individuals? The leader,” Coran pointed at Keith, “The protector,” he pointed at Hunk, “The scholar,” he pointed at Pidge, “And the wanderer.” Finally, he pointed at Lance.
“Huh,” said Shiro, thoroughly baffled, “Well, how about that?”
Allura was just wrapping up a phone conversation as she wandered over and stood next to Shiro, “Just got off the phone with headquarters. They’re sending over some agents to clear away the body.”
“So I guess you’re leaving soon,” said Lance, unable to hide the disappointment in his voice.
“We still need to do some debriefing, but yes, we should probably leave soon so we can report back to our superiors.”
“We’ll really miss you,” said Keith.
“I wouldn’t feel too sad about it,” said Shiro, fishing around in his pocket and pulling out a business card, “Considering all the weird stuff that happens here, this is probably not the last time we’re called out to this town.”
He handed the business card to Lance.
“Give us a call if you see something strange,” said Shiro, “Or if you just feel like catching up.”
Back at it again with more spooky fun. Coran finds weird uses for a communion wafer. Lance accepts an offer he’d rather refuse. Answers are finally found.
Note: Contains religion (Note within a note: author was raised Protestant. If you’re familiar with Catholic liturgy and notice she got something wrong, please let her know so she can fix it)
Enjoy!
“God, the Father of mercies, through the death and resurrection of his Son has reconciled the world to himself and sent the Holy Spirit among us for the forgiveness of sins; through the ministry of the Church, may God give you pardon and peace, and I absolve you from your sins in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”
“Amen,” Lance murmured.
“May the Passion of our Lord Jesus Christ, the intercession of the Blessed Virgin Mary and of all the saints, whatever good you do and suffering you endure heal your sins, help you to grow in holiness, and reward you with eternal life. Go in peace.” Coran said from the other side of the screen.
“Already got the eternal life bit, thanks,” said Lance, under his breath.
“Do we need to do this again so you can confess to sassing a prophet?”
“Nah, I’m good.” Lance stepped out of the confession booth.
“How about Mass? When was the last time you had that?” Coran asked, also exiting the booth.
“I think I can go without tonight.”
“Well, let’s test that, shall we?” said Coran, reaching over to the altar and picking up a communion wafer from the dish. He approached Lance and pressed the wafer to his forehead.
Lance winced. When Coran pulled the wafer away, a slight pink mark appeared where it had been.
“Better to be safe than sorry. I’ll get the blood bag.”
“It didn’t hurt that much…”
“It’s not supposed to hurt at all,” Coran pointed out, “If you want to take care of your immortal soul then you’ve got to take the treatments.”
Lance sighed, “Oh, all right.” He certainly understood why he took Mass. He was the one who had asked Coran to help him find a way to do so, his family’s faith one of the few ties to his past he had left. That didn’t mean it wasn’t frustrating, having to take Mass nearly every night just so he could walk past a crucifix without fear of getting a headache.
Lance watched as Coran retrieved the cup used specifically for vampire-friendly Mass (no need for the other congregants to drink wine from a cup that had had blood in it the night before) and poured blood from a blood bag into it. He then recited the invocation and presented Lance with the cup. Lance drank it down.
“There,” said Coran, “Let’s try this again.” He picked up the communion wafer and touched it to Lance’s forehead once more.
“Nothing,” said Lance, “Now you’re just a guy holding a cracker up to another guy’s forehead.”
“Good. That means it worked,” Coran set the wafer down and patted Lance on the shoulder, “I’m glad you stopped by tonight, Lance, it’s always nice to see you. Tell Keith I said hi and try not to get into too much trouble.”
Lance smirked, “But you’d be out of a job if I didn’t.”
“I’m serious, son. If you come in here next week and tell me that you’ve…I don’t know…eaten a five-year-old or something—“
“Coran! I would never! Five-year-olds aren’t nearly ripe enough to eat.”
Coran raised an eyebrow.
“Kidding, just kidding,” said Lance, “You take care of yourself, Coran. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
As Lance exited St. Groggery’s, he noticed a man across the street, standing by a rather expensive-looking car and illuminating the pavement with his phone’s flashlight.
The man looked up and noticed him, “Excuse me, do you think you can help me with something?”
Lance crossed the street, “What do you need, man?”
“I seem to have dropped my keys, could you help me find them?”
Lance almost didn’t catch the man’s words. Up close, he was strikingly attractive. Tall as hell and slender, but not without muscle. His facial features were an elegant, refined sort of handsome and his long platinum-blond hair showed signs of being well cared-for.
“Sure,” said Lance, “Sure, let me just…” He knelt down and peeked under the car while the stranger held the flashlight, not that he needed it to see in the dark. After a moment, he spotted the keys and fished them out.
“Here you go.”
“Thank you so much. I was worried they’d gone down a storm drain. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t come along.” The man put his hand on Lance’s arm. Lance had mixed feelings about the gesture, though he couldn’t seem to bring himself to shake the other man off.
“Oh, it was nothing really.”
“Still, I’d like to show my gratitude in some way. How about I get you a drink?”
“I, uh, I don’t drink…alcohol.”
“I know,” said the man, pulling the collar of his shirt down slightly to reveal his collarbone.
Bad idea, said Lance’s brain, even as his arms reached for the man and his legs carried him forward.
The man pulled him into a nearby alleyway and pressed him against the wall. Lance’s head spun. He could already smell the man’s blood, could practically taste it on his tongue. It would taste so good to have blood straight from the source for once. The last time he had had a fresh meal was…
That snapped Lance out of his trance. The only person he did this with anymore was Keith. You just got out of confession and already you’re trying to eat from a stranger, what’s wrong with you? Lance took a step back, “I’m sorry, I really shouldn’t. I need to get home—“
His words were cut off as the man shoved him backwards against the wall, a hand wrapped around his throat. Lance tried to shake him off, but the stranger only pushed him harder into the bricks, lifting him off his feet with astonishing strength. Lance squirmed against the man’s grip. It would take more than choking to kill him, but the lack of oxygen was making his head spin.
Something hard and pointed pressed against his chest, right above his heart. Lance looked down. The man was holding a wooden stake, poised to stab him with it.
“I assume you know what that is. If you so much as scream, it’ll be the last noise you ever make.”
The man set Lance back on his feet.
“What do you want?” Lance hissed, rubbing his throat.
“You’ve encountered two individuals by the names of Agents Shirogane and Prince, yes?”
“Yeah…” said Lance, remembering the agents that had come to Keith’s house the other day.
“They work for an organization known as the Paranormal Bureau of Investigation. An organization that hunts down creatures like you and me.”
“What’s your point?”
“I want you to kill them for me.”
Lance’s lip curled in disgust, “Let’s assume I have any intention of humoring you. Give me one good reason why I should do this.”
“Besides the fact that they would hunt you down and throw you in a cage if they knew what you are?”
Lance shrugged, “Plenty of people have tried to hunt me down before. No one’s caught me yet.”
“I figured you’d need a bit of extra motivation,” the man pulled out his phone and pulled up an image, “How about this, then?”
Lance’s stomach dropped. A picture of Keith filled the screen.
“He’s your lover, isn’t he? Such a handsome boy…It would certainly be a shame if anything unfortunate happened to that lovely face.”
“Listen,” Lance growled, “If you think you can scare me…”
“Not good enough? How about this, then,” The man swiped across the screen and an image of two children playing in a backyard slid into view. The picture was slightly blurry, as though it was taken covertly.
“These are your…oh, what was it?…great-great-grandchildren? I don’t know how you keep track. Their names are Nadia and Sylvio, aren’t they?”
“You wouldn’t dare…” whispered Lance.
“You don’t want to know what I would dare to do.” The man let Lance go. “You have until Saturday. If Agents Shirogane and Prince are not dead by then, I will personally track down and kill everyone you love. Oh, and one more thing,” the man turned and faced Lance once more, “When you do kill those agents, be sure to tell them Lotor sent you.”
***
In addition to its quality coffee and friendly customer service, Mochas & Magic also sold second-hand books. Allura figured that was as good a place as any to do research on local folklore.
She had decided to perform this particular task solo. Shiro was busy interviewing Mr. and Mrs. Griffin about the incident and Allura figured she might get better results if she went alone anyway. If this Colleen woman’s daughter really had information on New Altea’s supernatural population, she might benefit more from a girl-to-girl chat.
As Allura pushed open the door to the coffee shop, she heard Colleen’s voice ring out, “Welcome to Mochas & Magic! Come on in!”
Colleen was stationed behind the register today. Beside her was a rather large young man in an apron, sliding trays of blueberry scones into the display case.
“Oh, I remember you,” said Colleen, as Allura approached the counter, “You and that young man were in here yesterday, talking about vampires.”
“Yes, that, uh, that was me,” said Allura, trying to keep her voice down. The young man in the apron was giving her a strange look. “You mentioned your daughter knowing a lot about folklore. I was wondering if I could talk with her for a bit.”
“Well, I’m sure she’d be happy to discuss it with you. Hunk, do you know where Katie is?”
“I think she’s shelving books right now,” said Hunk, still not taking his eyes off of Allura.
“Thank you,” said Allura, “That’s very helpful of you.”
“Are you writing a YA novel?” said Colleen.
“Hm?”
“Is your research for a YA novel? We get a lot of authors in here doing research for novels they’re writing.”
“It’s just for a personal project,” said Allura, before making her way to the bookstore section of the shop.
A young woman in her early twenties was stocking the shelves, climbing a stepladder to reach the highest ones. She had short, brown hair and large, round glasses.
“I’m almost done,” the woman said, “One moment.”
“Are you Katie?” asked Allura.
“Yeah, but you can call me Pidge,” the woman said, stepping down from the ladder, “What can I do for you?”
“I was hoping you could help me find some books on a certain subject,” said Allura, casually scanning the bookshelf nearest to her.
“Depends on the subject, I guess,” said Pidge, “What were you looking for?”
Allura picked up one of the books off the shelf. The cover was emblazoned with the word Beowulf. She flipped through the pages idly. “I’m just looking for information on some of the creatures in this area.”
“Like what? Foxes and raccoons?”
“More like werewolves and vampires.”
There was the barest flicker of worry on Pidge’s face, but it soon disappeared. “I hate to disappoint you, ma’am, but creatures like that don’t actually exist.”
“But your mother said people came here to research the subject all the time.”
“Well, yeah, but not like actual researchers. Cryptid hunters and teen romance novelists, those kinds of people.”
Without warning, Allura tossed the book she was holding directly at Pidge’s head. Pidge yelped and held up her hand and the book stopped just short of her face, hovering in midair.
“Are you sure?” said Allura.
Pidge lowered her hand and the book dropped to the ground, falling open, “Well, shit. You weren’t supposed to see that.”
“Well, now that we’re done with the playacting, we can get straight to business. What can you tell me about the werewolves in this area?”
But Pidge didn’t seem to be in a cooperative mood at the moment. “You’re one of the agents who interviewed Keith, aren’t you?” she said.
“So you know Mr. Kogane, do you? Can you tell me anything about his whereabouts on the night of James Griffin’s death?”
“I knew it!” said Pidge, ignoring her question, “I knew there was some sort of men-in-black thing for supernatural beings. Are you part of the government?”
“Now who’s being a conspiracy theorist?”
“It’s not a conspiracy theory if you’re right.”
“Look,” said Allura, “I don’t want to accuse your friend any more than you do. If there’s anything, anything at all you can share with me that might help clear his name, it would go a long way toward helping him.”
Pidge sighed, “Listen, I can’t give you any hard evidence, but whatever you’re looking for, whatever killed Griffin, it’s not a werewolf.”
“I’m not saying I don’t believe you,” said Allura, “but how do you know this?”
“Because I did some scrying. We went to the place where the body was found and I contacted Griffin’s spirit and saw what he saw when he died. And let me tell you, it wasn’t a werewolf that killed him.”
“Well, what was it, then?” said Allura, “Can you describe it?”
“It was dark, so Griffin didn’t get a good look at it. But it was big. Bigger than a werewolf, that’s for sure.”
“So, a bear?”
Pidge shook her head, “Bigger than that, even. And it had these horns…” She held up her hands near her head to illustrate, “And these eyes that glowed and it looked like…like a…” She glanced down to think and froze.
“Like what?” said Allura.
“Like that.”
Pidge pointed down at the book on the floor by her feet. It was open to an illustration depicting a huge, horned creature with a human grasped in its enormous hand. The caption on the page read, “Grendel carrying his prey to his lair”.
For a moment, Pidge and Allura could barely move. Then, Pidge scooped up the book. “I have to show this to Hunk.”
“I have to make a phone call,” said Allura as Pidge left the room.
Allura pulled out her cell phone and called Shiro. “Come on, please pick up, please pick up, it’s important.”
After the second ring, Shiro answered, “Allura? Something wrong?”
“Shiro, you owe that Kogane kid an apology.”
“Hmm? Why’s that?”
“Because I think I just figured out what actually killed James Griffin.”
Gonna be busy over the weekend, so you guys get this chapter a little early! Lance brings a present to the festival, Pidge isn’t feeling like herself, and Hunk is a badass in an unexpected way.
Enjoy!
The All Hallow’s Eve festival was finally here and, as usual, Pidge was helping her family set up their booth.
After taping the large banner Matt had made reading “Baked Goods from Mochas & Magic” to the front of their table, Pidge and Hunk set out trays of the treats themselves. They arranged maple donuts, pecan tarts, and every type of pumpkin-flavored dessert imaginable into aesthetically-pleasing shapes. Pidge double-checked that all the spells on the treats were properly applied. There were the classics: charms to ensure a good harvest and wards against evil, but also ones that Pidge herself had designed to fit the Halloween spirit: good-luck spells to ensure pranks went smoothly, minor glamours to give any costume extra pizazz, and protection spells against unwanted jumpscares.
As she finished arranging everything, Pidge looked around at the other booths set up along the avenue, selling everything from street food to homemade Halloween knick-knacks to fall-themed accessories. Pedestrians were already wandering from booth to booth, eager to see what the vendors had to offer.
The All Hallow’s Eve festival was honestly one of Pidge’s favorite events of the year. The vast majority of New Altea’s population was supernatural and Halloween was one of the few days of the year when they didn’t hold anything back. And the festival itself was a great draw for supernaturals from out of town.
Coran had set up the St. Groggery’s booth just across the street from their own. Once they were done with their set-up, Pidge and Hunk wandered over to talk to him. He was handing out the church’s newsletter, as well as some small, strange cards that Pidge didn’t recognize.
“What are these?” Hunk asked, picking one up to study it. An image of St. Peter looked back at him.
“Well, All Saint’s Day is tomorrow,” Coran explained, “and one of the nuns thought it would be funny to make trading cards of different saints.”
“Like Pokemon?” Pidge snorted with laughter, “That’s awesome! ‘The Virgin Mary used Immaculate Conception! It’s super effective!’”
“Yes, that was the idea. I don’t suppose I could convince you to give me a free maple donut if I give you a limited edition St. George?”
Before long, Lance and Keith showed up as well, along with Keith’s family, most of whom immediately scattered throughout the street, following various delicious scents. Lance was carrying his umbrella to keep the worst of the sun off, as well as a briefcase for some strange reason.
“What’s in there?” Pidge asked, pointing at it, “Money? You know, our pumpkin muffins aren’t that expensive.”
“Just a gift for someone I’m meeting here.”
Pidge raised an eyebrow but didn’t push the issue further.
Meanwhile, Keith and Romelle had successfully bugged their mother into buying donuts for them. They chowed down while Krolia chatted with Pidge’s mom about the teddy bears her cousin Antok was selling from his booth.
“He makes them himself and sews little costumes for them. You should check them out, they’re pretty cute.”
“We should get one for the café,” Pidge said to her mom, “We could put him next to the tip jar with a little sign that says ‘Tip if you think I’m cute!’”
Pidge’s mom chuckled, “That does sound like a cute idea. You know what, I think I will get one. Where did you say Antok’s booth is?” She stepped out from behind the table so Krolia could show her the way. Romelle tagged along behind them, eager to see more of the festival.
“So,” said Lance, after the two moms had wandered out of earshot, “any news about our…” he held up his hands to resemble antlers, “…horny friend?”
“Listen, if I never see that grendel thing again for as long as I live, it will be too soon,” said Pidge, “Also, please for the love of everything holy, never call it that.”
“Lance?” said Keith, between bites of donut, “That man across the street is looking at you.”
All four of them turned to see who Keith was indicating. A tall, platinum-blond man stood across the street in front of the hardware store, staring intently in their direction.
Pidge shivered. Hunk put an arm around her shoulder. She noticed Lance angling himself so that he was blocking Keith from the man’s line of sight.
The man began walking toward them, giving Coran’s booth a wide berth as he crossed the street.
“Well, Lance,” the man said as he approached them, his voice silky-smooth, “It certainly is good to see you here. I hope you did that favor I asked.”
Lance’s expression was cold, “Can we please discuss this somewhere private?”
“No, I think I’d rather discuss it somewhere public.” the man said lazily, “We wouldn’t want your little friends here to think you’re hiding something.”
“Lance, what is he talking about?” said Hunk.
Lance didn’t answer him. Instead, he handed his umbrella to Keith, lifted up his briefcase, and opened it.
Inside were various articles of clothing, a suit jacket, a dress shirt, a woman’s blazer, a pencil skirt, all covered in bloodstains. Pidge’s stomach turned.
“I did what you asked, now leave me alone.”
“Not so fast,” said the man, lifting up the dress shirt, “I just want to make sure. Young man, your name’s Keith, isn’t it? Can you tell me whose shirt this is?”
Keith sniffed the air, “That’s Shiro’s shirt, but how…?” He suddenly grew pale.
“And is this Shiro’s blood on the shirt?”
Keith turned toward Lance. “Lance, you didn’t. There’s got to be some mistake. Lance, tell me you didn’t—“
“I can’t tell you that,” Lance cut him off.
“Well, Lance, I must say, I’m impressed.” said the man, “I didn’t think you had the spine to pull it off. I’m surprised to say I was wrong.”
“Oh, I’m full of surprises,” said Lance. He reached into the briefcase, under the clothes, pulling out a small plastic water pistol and spraying the man in the face.
At first, Pidge thought it was simply a poorly-timed prank. But then the man’s face began to break out in boils, filling the air with the smell of burning flesh. He wailed in pain and many of the pedestrians stared, backing away from him.
“What the hell?” Pidge heard Hunk whisper faintly.
“I think you might be on the right track,” she whispered back.
“You horrible little bloodsucker!” the man snarled, trying to wipe the water out of his eyes with his sleeve, “I’ll kill you for that!”
“Not if we can help it.”
Pidge looked up. There, standing across the street next to Coran’s booth were Shiro and Allura, holding…
“Are those Super Soakers?” asked Keith.
“It’s over, Lotor,” Allura called from across the street, “You’re under arrest.”
“And we’re making sure it sticks this time,” Shiro added.
The man, Lotor apparently, growled, “It’s not over by a long shot.” Having gotten the water out of his eyes, he scanned the crowd.
His gaze landed on Pidge.
“You’ll do,” he said.
Then suddenly, where the man had stood moments before, there was a cloud of smoke. The smoke rushed past Lance and over the table, straight at Pidge. It surrounded her, filling her nose and mouth. Her vision went black.
Oh, yes, said a voice in her head that wasn’t her own, You’ll do quite nicely.
***
One moment, Hunk had his arm around Pidge. The next, she yanked herself out of his grasp and leaped over the table, knocking trays of pastries to the ground.
“Pidge, what—?”
Pidge turned toward him and he froze. Her eyes were solid black.
“Well, this ought to do nicely,” she said, but it wasn’t her voice coming out of her mouth. Lotor’s voice was layered over hers, creating an unsettling echo. “A little short for my tastes, but certainly a spry young thing.”
Keith, who was standing closest to Pidge, took a step forward, “Pidge? What is this?”
Pidge reached for him and wrapped a hand around his throat.
Keith dropped the umbrella he was holding and gasped. He gripped Pidge’s wrist, trying to loosen her grip, but she only squeezed tighter, lifting him off the ground with inhuman strength. His feet dangled as he tried to kick at her, his face turning red from lack of oxygen.
“I told you, Lance,” she said in Lotor’s voice, “If you failed me, I would kill everyone you care about. Starting with this shaggy-headed little lapdog of yours.”
“No, don’t!” said Lance. He turned toward Agent Shirogane, “Shiro, spray her with the holy water!”
But Shiro was shaking his head, “I can’t, it’ll hurt her too!”
Lance turned toward Hunk, “Hunk, do something!”
“Do what? There’s nothing I can—!” But there was something he could do. He hated doing it, of course, it was one of his least favorite powers.
Still. Pidge needed his help.
Normally, it took a fair bit of concentration for Hunk to maintain his physical appearance. Now, he let it go, becoming only a vague shape of a human. He passed through the table, as easy as passing through fog, and came up behind Pidge. She snapped her head in his direction as he approached.
“What do you think you’re—?”
Hunk took the opportunity. He floated toward her, then through her, into her, pushing his way into her consciousness and possessing her.
It was a little crowded in here for his tastes. Lotor took up the most room, his presence forming an inky black cloud that nearly pushed Hunk out again. For one frightening moment, he couldn’t find Pidge at all. Eventually, though, he did locate her, a small but bright entity pressed up against the edge of her own mind, trying to shove Lotor’s massive presence out of the way to give her more room.
“Hey,” he said reaching for her.
“Hunk?” she said, reaching back for him. He caught her and pulled her towards him.
“Are you okay?” he said.
“I’m alright…I think. This guy keeps pushing me to the back. I can’t even tell what’s going on out there.”
“I know,” said Hunk, “I think we’ve got to push him back out from in here.”
“How do we do that?”
“It’s your brain. You’ve got to reject him, force him out. Here, I’ll help you.”
It wasn’t an easy task. Lotor hadn’t been here long but he was already rooting his way into the nooks and crannies of Pidge’s brain, determined to anchor himself. Hunk yanked his grip loose wherever he could, while Pidge tried to shove him out, expanding to fill the spaces where he had lost purchase.
At first, it seemed like Lotor’s grip on her mind was too strong. But then Pidge gave a final shove and suddenly Lotor was ejected from her mind.
“You did it!” said Hunk wrapping himself around her in a hug.
“We did it,” said Pidge. She returned the hug before pulling away slightly. “God, this feels so weird. It’s better because I know it’s you, but…if you don’t mind, would you please exit my brain?”
“Right, of course. I’ll leave you to your thoughts.” said Hunk, before stepping out of Pidge’s mind and back into the physical world.
“—him before he gets his strength back!” Allure’s voice was the first to reach his ears, as she shouted orders, “Coran, how fast can you bless this garden hose?”
Hunk was hit full in the face with the chaos of the scene. Vendors and pedestrians were crowded around the group in a circle, clamoring to see what all the noise was about. Hunk spotted Colleen among them, clutching a small teddy bear in a pumpkin costume with one hand and frantically pointing at her daughter with the other, saying something to Krolia that Hunk couldn’t quite hear. Pidge was doubled over, trying to catch her breath after being possessed by two different people. Keith was on the ground, gasping and coughing while Lance hovered over him protectively. Allura was standing by the entrance to the hardware store, holding the nozzle of a garden hose while Shiro frantically tried to screw the other end into a spout on the side of the building and Coran repeatedly made the sign of the cross over it. And Lotor was on the pavement, back in his human form and shakily getting to his feet.
“You…” he growled, turning in Hunk’s direction, “You’ll pay for this!” He swung his fist at him.
Lotor’s hand passed harmlessly through Hunk, throwing him off balance.
Hunk grabbed a tray from the table and brought it down on Lotor’s head.
Lotor reeled several steps backward, before being knocked forwards again by a stream of holy water as Allura sprayed him with the hose. He shrieked in pain and fell to the ground again, shriveling up on himself and sending up billows of foul-smelling smoke.
“That’ll hold him but not for long,” said Allura, dropping the hose, “Coran, please tell me you’ve got some way to contain him.”
“I can but I’ll need a vessel to put him in. A doll or something…”
Pidge stood up straight, “I know what we can use.” She turned toward her mother, “Mom! Mom, throw me the bear!”
Colleen tossed the pumpkin-clad teddy bear to Pidge, who tossed it to Coran, who caught it and began chanting in Latin.
At once, the smoke billowing off of Lotor began to flow into the bear as Lotor’s form dissolved before them.
“No! No!” Lotor shouted before the last of his form disappeared into the toy.
“You cannot do this!” the bear shouted in Lotor’s silky-smooth voice, which had lost much of its intimidation coming out of a plush toy the size of a rabbit.
“Quiet, you,” said Coran, giving the toy a shake.
Colleen, meanwhile, had muscled her way out of the crowd and was pulling Pidge into a hug, while Krolia and Romelle knelt down next to Keith.
“Are you okay, sweetheart? Are you hurt?” said Colleen, stroking Pidge’s hair.
“I’m okay, Mom, really.”
“And you,” said Colleen, letting go of Pidge and giving Hunk a hug, “I can’t thank you enough.”
“I-It’s not a problem, Mrs. Holt, I’d do it again in a heartbeat.” Hunk turned toward Allura, “So what happens now?”
“Now we all calm down and see about locking him up properly this time,” said Allura, nodding toward the teddy bear that was now Lotor, “As long as there’s no more excitement, I think we’ll be just—“
She was interrupted by a loud roar.
The entire crowd turned as one in the direction of the noise. In the distance, its horned head rising above even the rooftops, loomed an enormous beast.
Lance has a heart-to-heart with his future alpha-in-law. Shiro and Allura are stressed for a variety of reasons.
Enjoy!
If there was one thing Lance knew about Kolivan, it was that he liked his privacy.
After all, why else would he live in what was little more than a trailer home in the middle of the woods?
It took Lance forever to find the place, driving up and down roads that were only dirt and gravel and probably didn’t even have names. Eventually, though, he did find the house and knocked on the door.
Kolivan opened the door a crack, keeping the chain fastened, “What do you want? If you’re selling something—“
Kolivan seemed to hesitate a moment, before unlatching the door chain and ushering Lance inside.
The decor was about what Lance expected, functional and masculine, no frills or fuss. Kolivan gestured to a table with two chairs and they both sat down.
“Now,” said Kolivan, “What’s this visit about?”
“I think Keith might be in danger,” said Lance.
“Keith is an adult. He can take care of himself.”
“No, you don’t understand,” said Lance, “I’m being blackmailed and the person blackmailing me is threatening Keith’s life.”
That made Kolivan sit up and take notice, “Who is this person?”
“I don’t really know, I’d never met him before. He said his name was Lotor and that he’d kill Keith if I didn’t do what he asked. I can’t let that happen.”
Kolivan frowned, “Strange…”
“What’s strange?”
“I’m just confused as to why you seem so concerned about Keith’s death.”
Lance stared, incredulous, “Because I care about him? What the fuck, Kolivan, he’s part of your pack! Don’t you care about his death?”
“Yes, but that’s because I’m mortal like he is.”
Lance sat back in his chair. He was beginning to see what Kolivan’s problem was.
“I suppose I’ve never heard of a vampire caring for a mortal so much. I want to know why. If you’re just going to outlive him, why bother forming this kind of connection?”
Lance thought for a moment, “I guess it’s because I need him. You know he’s not the first person I’ve had a romantic relationship with, right?”
“I figured as much,” said Kolivan, “No doubt you’ve had a whole slew of lovers in your time on earth.”
“Not just lovers,” said Lance, “My last wife was a woman named Jenny. I loved her from the moment I met her to the moment she died. When our kids were born, I loved them too. And when our grandkids were born, I loved them as well. I love Keith no less than I loved any of them. And if we have kids someday, I’m going to love them too.”
“It sounds heartbreaking,” said Kolivan, “Loving so many people and having to watch them die.”
“Well yeah, it is,” said Lance, “But the alternative is trying not to feel anything about other people, and that never ends well. Other vampires have tried that and they end up being the ones you read about in the horror stories. If I didn’t have people to care about…if I didn’t have Keith…I’d turn into as big a monster as people say I am.”
Kolivan studied him, “You know, Lance, I wasn’t sure about you when I first met you.”
“Yeah, I noticed.”
“But now I think you might be exactly what Keith needs as well.”
Lance perked up, “So you’ll help me?”
“First you have to tell me how to help you. What does this Lotor person want you to do for him?”
“He wants me to kill these two people. Their names are Agents Shirogane and Prince. I don’t know what they did to this guy, but he wants them dead badly. I don’t want to do it, they seem like they’re not bad people, but I can’t risk him hurting Keith.”
“I would think you could hold your own against a simple human if it came down to defending Keith from him.”
Lance shook his head, “He’s not just a simple human. He’s…well, I’m not sure what he is. I don’t think he’s a witch, but he can do…things. Mess with your mind and stuff like that.”
Kolivan got out of his chair and stood next to Lance, “Then we’ll need help from our pack to take him down.”
“Our?” said Lance.
“Yes,” said Kolivan, the barest hint of a smile on his face, “If Keith’s mate needs my help, who am I to refuse?”
***
It was the night before Halloween and Shiro was about ready to tear his hair out.
He stewed in his frustration as he and Allura walked back to their hotel for the night. Tomorrow was the All Hallows Eve festival. The whole town would be filled with people coming in for the festivities and the two of them were no closer to stopping the monster stalking the town than they were when they first arrived.
At least now they knew what they were dealing with. Keith’s name had been cleared and for that, Shiro was grateful, but in terms of the bigger mission, a monster from Anglo-Saxon folklore causing the killings only made things more complicated. The beast had no more sentience than a wild animal, which meant he and Allura couldn’t exactly go knocking on its door with an arrest warrant in hand. And it was infinitely more dangerous than any animal. Shiro had heard rumors circulating the town of people going missing over the last few days, pets disappearing from backyards. If the festival came around and this grendel was still on the loose…
“Even if we did find it,” said Shiro thinking out loud, “how are we supposed to kill it? I didn’t bring any firearms besides my handgun and I doubt that would cut it with a creature this big.”
Allura huffed, also frustrated, “I’ve looked through every book I could find that mentions this thing and none of them list any weaknesses. It’s immune to damage from all weapons. Only one person’s ever been said to defeat one. The hero, Beowulf.”
“Well, how did he do it?”
“He ripped the creature’s arm off with his bare hands.”
“Ouch. Okay, not an option,” said Shiro, nervously putting a hand to his prosthetic, “What if we called in Coran? Do you think an exorcism could stop it?”
Allura shook her head, “It’s not a demon. I think that puts it outside of Coran’s jurisdiction.”
“Well, then what…” Shiro froze.
“What’s wrong?”
“I think we’re being followed.”
Across the street, Shiro was aware of another person keeping pace with him and Allura. Definitely a cause for concern this late at night with the street as empty as it was. Shiro turned and pretended to point something out to Allura in a nearby storefront window so they could get a good look at their follower.
Except that their follower did not appear in the window’s reflection.
“What the…?”
“It’s a vampire,” whispered Allura.
Slowly, Shiro turned to face the stranger. “It’s McClain.” he whispered back.
Recognizing that they had noticed him, Lance McClain waved at the two agents and crossed the street.
“Evening,” he said, “You folks going on a bar crawl? Mind if I join?”
“You’re Keith’s boyfriend, aren’t you?” said Allura, trying to hide her uneasiness.
“Yup, the name’s Lance. It’s Shiro and Allura, right?”
“Listen,” said Shiro, “Is there something we can help you with? We’re kind of trying to get home.”
“Actually,” said Lance, “yeah, there is something.”
Suddenly Shiro felt someone grab him by the arms. He couldn’t see who they were but they were big and very strong. He heard Allura give an indignant shout next to him.
“I’m really sorry about this,” said Lance, grabbing the collar of Shiro’s shirt and pulling down.
“What are you—“ Shiro was cut off as Lance bit down at the skin between his shoulder and neck. He felt his needle-sharp teeth inject something into his bloodstream just before he blacked out.
He woke up in someone’s living room, tied to a chair.
“…prepare a blood transfusion for them?” he heard a deep voice say as he came to.
“I think they’ll be okay. We don’t need a lot of blood, just enough to make it look convincing. But maybe prepare a blood bag, just in case.” That was Lance’s voice.
“Hey…” Shiro croaked weakly. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Hey!”
His vision began to clear up and Lance’s face appeared in his line of sight, “Oh, good, you’re awake. What’s your blood type?”
“Where’s Allura?”
“Sitting right behind you. I think she’s starting to wake up too.”
Sure enough, Shiro heard Allura give a weak groan behind him. She must have been sitting facing away from him, because the first word out of her mouth was, “Shiro?”
“I’m here,” said Shiro. Then to Lance, he said, “What the hell is going on here?”
“I’m trying to save lives,” said Lance, “That’s what’s going on.”
“Saving lives? Whose?”
“Yours. And Allura’s. And the lives of a lot of people I care about, including Keith.”
“What do you mean?” said Shiro, “Is Keith in danger?”
“He will be if I don’t do this. You two wouldn’t happen to know a guy named Lotor, would you?”
“He’s an incubus,” piped up Allura, “We arrested him not that long ago.”
“Ah, that explains why he wants you dead so badly. Apparently the arrest didn’t stick.”
“Lance, listen to me,” said Shiro, “We’ve dealt with people like Lotor before. Whatever kind of deal he made with you, he is going to double-cross you.”
“Yeah, I figured. That’s why I’m going to double-cross him first.”
“What?”
“Ulaz can explain it better than me,” said Lance, gesturing to the nearby doorway. An extremely tall, white-haired werewolf stepped through it, holding what looked like an IV tube. “This is Ulaz. He’ll be your doctor for today.”
“We’re going to be taking a bit of blood from both of you,” said Ulaz, “Just enough for Lotor to be able to identify your scent when we fake your death.”
“When you what?”
“Oh, that’s the other thing,” said Lance, “Once we’ve collected the blood, we’ll need you to take your clothes off.”
“Excuse me?!” said Shiro.
“So that we have something to show Lotor to prove that you’re dead.”
“Don’t worry, we brought spare clothes for you to change into,” said Ulaz, “Allura looks like she could fit into some of Krolia’s old things and you’re about the same size as my mate.”
“I happen to like the outfit I’m wearing now!” said Allura.
“Guys, I’m sorry,” said Lance, his voice growing softer, “but I have to do what I can to protect Keith. It’s either this or kill you and I really don’t want to kill you.”
Shiro sighed. As much as he didn’t like the situation, he also couldn’t blame Lance for being protective.
“Alright,” he said, “I’ll help you. What about you, Allura?”
“Can’t say I’m a fan of your plan. But if it means keeping your boyfriend safe…and, you know, not dying…then I’m willing to help.”
Soon, both Shiro and Allura were untied and having their blood drawn by Ulaz, who explained that he worked as a nurse at the local hospital. Once all the blood they needed was collected, Shiro and Allura both stripped and changed into the clothes Lance and Ulaz gave them.
Shiro buttoned up his new shirt and tucked it into his pants. Apparently, he was a little bit shorter than Ulaz’s mate, but other than that, they really were similar in size.
“Thank you for this,” said Lance, as Shiro adjusted his clothes.
“It’s no problem,” said Shiro, “It’s our job to protect people like you. I’m just glad Plan A wasn’t to go ahead and kill us. Thanks for that, Carlos.”
“Oh, I was never planning to—“ Lance looked up, surprised, “How did you know my name?”
“The PBI’s been keeping tabs on you for a long, long time. You’ve lived a very full life, Carlos Montoya.”
Lance smiled and shook his head, “I never thought I’d hear that name again. But if it’s all the same to you, I’d like to be called Lance.”
Shiro nodded, “I understand. I’ve gotta admit, though, I was hoping you’d be partial to Isamu Kurogane.”
Lance chuckled, “God, I almost forgot about my Japan days.”
“When this is all over, we should get lunch together sometime. You can tell me all about your life and we’ll see if your Japanese has gotten rusty.”
“My Japanese is just fine, thank you,” said Lance, smirking, “But it might sound a little archaic to your ears.” His face fell a bit. “Assuming there is a ‘when this is all over’.”
“There will be,” said Shiro, putting a hand on Lance’s shoulder, “No matter what happens, I promise you, from here on out, we’re all on the same side.”
