Page 10 of Sinistram
“Same with the witches,” Father Leo said. “We have a few with real power, who, fortunately for us, are on our side. They do a very serious job of policing their own. If a dark practitioner tried to move into their territory, I suspect they’d deal with it and bury the body. One and done.”
“Got any goth teenagers gone wrong? Folks who’ve seen too many movies and downloaded a grimoire from the Dark Webto summon Aleister Crowley and got Cthulhu instead?” Travis mused.
The Dark Web used ensorcelled encryption to safeguard its secrets and catered to those who worked with the supernatural and occult. What was accessible on the regular internet could be troublesome enough, but if someone had gotten past the protections, information on the Dark Web was far more dangerous.
“Not that we’ve heard, but anything’s possible, I guess,” Father Leo said. “We can check with our witchy friends. Janie and Andi are also pretty connected with the local covens. It won’t hurt to ask.”
“Whatever the reason, folks are nervous,” Mark said. “Hunters are a superstitious bunch to start with, and a run of bad luck has them looking for omens in their tea leaves. If the fish aren’t biting or there are more storms than usual or there’s a weird moon like a little while ago, people whisper about ‘connections.’ I’ll be glad when things settle down.”
After that, the conversation shifted to football and the weather as they finished off the last of their drinks and the day caught up with them.
“I’m going to head out.” Father Leo put his empty soda bottle in the recycling bin. “Good to see you again, Travis and Brent. Call anytime if I can help.”
They said goodnight, and Mark went to a hallway closet, returning with an armful of sheets, blankets, and pillows.
“Someone gets the couch, and someone else gets the guest room. You can flip for it,” Mark told them. “I get up pretty early to take Demon out, and then I get the coffee going. I have cereal, toast, and peanut butter. Not fancy, but it’s free. Help yourselves. Don’t leave without saying goodbye. I have a couple of ideas I need to sleep on. Don’t worry about Donny. If he staysover, he stays in his wolf and sleeps with Demon. If you hear snoring, it’s them, not me. Sleep tight.”
With that, Mark headed down the hall and into his room. Brent looked at Travis. “Got a preference?”
“Go ahead and take the guest room. I’ll take the couch,” Travis volunteered. Brent suspected his friend offered because Brent’s back was still sore after the cement factory fight.
“Thanks. You can get first dibs on the bathroom,” Brent offered. He had packed a few essentials in his backpack, so it didn’t take long for him to change into sleep pants and a T-shirt.
Snoring rumbled from the other room.
“Need earplugs?” Travis offered. “I always keep a few pairs handy.”
Brent shook his head. “I’ll be okay. Once you learn to sleep through a war zone, not much else bothers you.” He dropped his voice. “The secret is to be so damn exhausted you can’t stay awake even if they put the air raid siren next to your ear.”
“I’ll take your word on that,” Travis replied. “Monasteries cornered the market on silence.”
True to his word, Brent fell asleep quickly. When he woke the next morning, he heard Travis and Donny talking quietly in the kitchen. Demon had come out to wake him, plunking his huge head beside Brent’s face and staring him into awareness with his warm brown eyes. The muffled sound of a shower told Brent where Mark had gone.
“Coffee’s ready,” Donny called. “There’s a second bathroom at the end of the hall if you’re desperate. Make yourself at home.”
Brent ruffled Demon’s ears and got a toothy grin in response, then he got up, rummaged in his backpack for fresh clothes, and went to change. When he walked into the kitchen, Travis shoved a cup of black coffee into his hands.
“Here. Caffeinate. You’ll be less grumpy.”
“Guilty as charged.” He took the coffee, grabbed a toaster pastry, and ate it cold, eager to have the caffeine and sugar hit his system. After a second cup, he tuned into the conversation.
“I don’t hear the insider gossip with the pack,” Donny was saying. “Mark says I’m too wolfy for a lot of people and too people-y for a lot of wolves, and he’s not wrong. I have my friends. Our pack is small and we don’t cause trouble. We’ve had an understanding with the hunters around here for a long time. There’s a lot to lose if someone breaks the truce and makes it look like our fault.”
“Has that happened?” Travis gulped down his java and turned to get a refill.
“No, but with what you all talked about, it worries me. I trust Mark, but if hunters get trigger-happy because they think someone is attacking them, it could get bad.”
Brent couldn’t argue with his logic. “Has the pack noticed any suspicious magic? Any changes in the wild creatures?” He wanted to make it clear to Donny that he made a distinction between the animalistic monsters and those that had a human side, like werewolves, shifters, and vampires.
Some hunters, those who used hunting to act out their rage and trauma, considered everything supernatural to be a threat worthy of death. Brent, Travis, and other responsible hunters didn’t associate with those folks.
“I’ve heard talk about sensing some strange energy,” Donny replied. “Some of the older pack members have been patrolling, but I didn’t get the feeling they’d found anything. Yet they were worried, that’s unusual.”
Anything that worries werewolves is worth taking seriously, Brent thought.
“You still up for heading to the mine after this?” Travis asked, changing the subject.
Brent tossed back his coffee and nodded. “Yeah. Figured we would.”
