Page 43 of Wild Wolf
The traffic had gotten thick on the island, the steady influx of tourists for Halloween congesting the streets.
We found a place to park in the Founders’ Court, then hustled across campus to Pemberton Hall. Pretty sorority girls bounced across campus, lugging backpacks and wearing short shorts and tank tops. Lots of blonde hair and ponytails. A compelling excuse for pursuing higher education.
I had called the administration building and gotten details on Taryn Crowe’s teaching schedule. We found her in room 106. With auditorium seating, the class was packed. Interest in her class had grown since the werewolf attacks. I suspected there were kids in class who weren't formally enrolled.
Taryn stood at the podium on the stage, giving a lecture, referring to slides projected on the screen. The room wasdim, and Taryn wore a small Lavalier mic that projected her voice through state-of-the-art speakers mounted at the ceiling.
"The origin of the werewolf myth can be traced back to ancient Greece,” Taryn said. “As the legend has it, King Lycaon fed Zeus human flesh to test him to see if he was an actual god. This, of course, angered Zeus, and he cursed the king to roam as a beast. There are many different variations of the story. Some say he was banished to Hades and forced to live as a wolf and consume human flesh for all eternity. Other legends state that Nordic warriors channeled the wolf spirit before going into battle and actually became wolves themselves. Multiple cultures have multiple variations on the story, but what remains interesting is the fact that a mythical creature—part man, part wolf—still exists today and captivates the imagination of many."
"Captivates the imagination of some psychopaths!" a frat guy shouted.
The students laughed.
"The deaths of two innocent people on this island is no laughing matter," Taryn said.
"Do you think a werewolf really did it?" a girl asked.
The bell rang.
"That's a question for next time," Taryn said.
The students flooded out of the aisle and raced up the steps. We fought against the stream and made our way down to the main stage.
“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” she said as she spotted us.
“Wolf, in this case,” I said.
Taryn smirked, mildly amused.
“Are you here to tell me you found the person or persons responsible for breaking into my house?”
“No. Sorry. I’m here for your professional opinion.”
“I was wondering how long it would take you two to show up. This is a special crime if there ever was one, is it not?”
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"That's an interesting legend," I said, getting down to business.
"There are many,” Taryn replied.
“I’d like to hear more.”
"As I said, what fascinates me is that similar legends appear in multiple cultures that had no contact with one another. Don’t you find that odd?”
"I suppose.”
"Over time, the legend evolves, gets more dramatic, the details change, the context changes.”
"I'm sure you're familiar with the most recent attack,” I said.
"How could I miss it? It's been all over the news. It seems they’re having a field day with this whole thing.”
"They are, and I don’t like it.” I paused. “If I tell you something, can you keep it a secret?”
Intrigue filled her alluring eyes. "Ooh, a secret! Now that sounds interesting.”
I told Taryn about the escaped panther.
