Martin Millar - Lonely Werewolf Girl (26 page)

Dominil knew almost nothing about rock music. She'd been
looking at some music websites, trying to gain an insight into the
world she was about to enter. She was not impressed. Poor design, poor
grammar and poor use of language, she thought. She hoped the music was
better.

From Heathrow airport she took a hired car into London. She
stopped off first at an apartment close to Regent's Park, one of the
family properties to which Verasa had given her the keys. The apartment
was large and well appointed and quite satisfactory for her needs. She
phoned the sisters but there was no reply, so she set off towards
Camden, ready to encounter the decadent side of the family.

73

Sarapen stared over the battlements of his keep. Down below,
workmen were rebuilding the old east wall. Human workmen, but the
company was owned by a werewolf of the MacAndris Clan, who were
historical allies of the MacRinnalchs. Sarapen's keep dated back to the
fourteenth century and the last occupant, an uncle of the late Thane,
had not kept it in good repair. Sarapen was attending to the
restoration, putting it back as close as possible to its original
fourteenth century state. It was slow, laborious work, but Sarapen
believed that the clan should preserve all of its historical buildings.
He withdrew his head and turned to his companions.

"Kalix will have to die."

He was quite certain of this. Kalix's death would secure
Dulupina's vote. The alternative, bringing her back to the castle,
would be difficult. Once she was there who knew what might happen.
Sarapen would not put it beyond his mother to somehow secure Kalix's
release so that she could sit at the next council meeting and vote
against him. It was best to get rid of her. In this, Sarapen's
interests merged perfectly with his emotions. Kalix had attacked the
Thane. She had also attacked Sarapen when he went to rescue his father.
She deserved to die for that.

"That means you'll have one more vote, from Dulupina," said
Mirasen. "And provided it's done before the next meeting of the Great
Council, Kalix's death will bring Decembrius onto the council. Another
vote for you. Eight in total."

Sarapen's black-stoned keep was forty miles west of Castle
MacRinnalch. A cold, hard place, built for defence rather than comfort.
It was a coincidence that Sarapen should be at this moment repairing
the outside walls. He had not foreseen that he may have to go to war. A
happy co-incidence however; at this time it would be as well to have
one's fortifications in good repair.

The repairs were prohibitively expensive. Each stone had to be
cut by masons skilled in the traditional crafts. He could have made
basic structural repairs at less expense but Sarapen didn't see any
point in carrying out work which did not restore his keep to its
original condition. The bills were huge, however, and this was a source
of some anger to Sarapen. He thought the clan should be paying for the
work, but the Mistress of the Werewolves would not sanction this. She
controlled the clan finances. Sarapen didn't believe that his mother
had allocated him his due allowance of the family money over the years,
though Verasa insisted that Sarapen had received everything to which he
was entitled.

Sarapen had a huge fur-trimmed cloak around his shoulders, a
traditional garment of the ruling MacRinnalchs, lined with cloth in the
clan tartan, woven on the estates. It kept out the cold wind that
whistled over the battlements. Sarapen's keep stood at the top of a
steep hill. Around the hill were farmlands which were worked by
werewolves, all Sarapen's supporters. If necessary Sarapen could gather
a great many werewolves to his cause.

If he could garner nine votes at the next meeting there would
not have to be a war. The prospect of war didn't trouble Sarapen, but
he was willing to go along with his advisors for now, and seek a more
peaceful victory, if it could be done.

"Baron MacAllister?" said Mirasen.

Sarapen growled. He was outraged at the Baron's perfidy in
feigning illness.

"Were this last century I would have pursued him and killed
him," snarled Sarapen. "And if he does not assure me that he'll vote
for me at the next meeting I'll do it anyway."

If Baron MacAllister were to die, his son would accede to his
place on the council.

"The young MacAllister would have no truck with my mother's
plotting," declared Sarapen. "He would vote for me."

"Probably," agreed Mirasen. "But let me try to win back the
Baron before we do anything too drastic. Remember, we have six votes
already. Dulupina and Decembrius will make eight. It may be possible to
persuade the Baron that it would be best for him if he voted for you."

Sarapen looked to Decembrius. Decembrius shook his head.

"I don't see Baron MacAllister changing his vote now. But I
agree that Mirasen should talk to him. What about the other available
votes? Might we persuade Thrix to come round?"

"My sister has a powerful dislike of me."

"She also has a powerful dislike of Markus. It may be worth
approaching her again."

Sarapen growled again. None of this was to his liking.

"The next Thane should not have to grovel for votes," he
declared, loudly. "The position is mine by right! Damn this family!
Damn them all, particularly these women! What is the matter with them?"

"It's interesting that the death of another council member
after Kalix would ensure your victory," commented Mirasen. "Because it
will be Dulupina's turn to appoint a replacement, and she'll pick
another of Kurian's children. Who will certainly vote for you."

"I'm aware of this," said Sarapen, coldly. "And were it not
for my advisors I might have attended to it already."

74

Mr Mikulanec spoke on the phone to Mr
Carmichael, chairman of the Guild.

"Three of your members dead?"

"Two are dead, one may recover."

"Killed in daylight, I understand."

"In daylight, yes."

"So if this was the work of werewolves, they were strong, even
in human form," said Mikulanec.

"Werewolves are always strong in human form," replied Mr
Carmichael. He had to concede that it had been unexpected. For hunters
to be killed in daylight was uncommon.

"You say the hunters were patrolling at random, not in pursuit
of any target. So you presume they came across a group of werewolves,
in human form, and the werewolves killed them."

"Yes. With the Thane's funeral, there have been a lot of
werewolves passing through London," said Mr Carmichael.

"But I understand that Kennington is not a place you would
pass through on your way to an airport?"

This was true. It was a peculiar occurrence, for which Mr
Carmichael had no ready explanation.

"What about the werewolf princess?" asked Mr Mikulanec. "Is
that not close to the area in which she was last sighted?"

"Yes. But we're sure she's an outcast. She wouldn't have been
travelling with companions."

"Perhaps not," agreed Mr Mikulanec. "But what if she was on
her own?"

"She couldn't have beaten three hunters on her own, not in
daylight. All reports say she's a small girl, practically malnourished."

"Perhaps you have never seen what a small werewolf,
practically malnourished, can do, when the circumstances are right,"
suggested Mikulanec.

Mr Carmichael was irritated. The deaths were bad enough
without a foreign hunter implying that the Guild didn't know its own
business.

"I don't think she was responsible. It must have been a
werewolf gang we haven't encountered before. We're sending more men to
patrol the area."

The Guild had had some success in the past week. Several
werewolves had been killed as they journeyed to and from the
MacRin-nalch Estates. Too few, of course, to hurt the clan, but enough
to make the Guild feel that it was doing its work successfully. Until
the matter of the hunters' deaths in London. That was a major blow.

Mr Mikulanec still thought the werewolf princess might have
killed them.

"I will find her and eradicate her."

He hung up the phone. Mikulanec was under no illusions as to
what a small, malnourished werewolf could do. Ten years ago a lone
young werewolf had eliminated many of Mikulanec's associates in
Croatia. They too had been experienced werewolf hunters, but the wolf
had been moon-born, a son of the oldest family of werewolves in Central
Europe. Even in human form he had been a savage opponent. 'And so,'
mused Mikulanec, 'So it may be with this princess, if she was born on
the full moon as a wolf, and has the purest of blood, and perhaps the
same sort of wolf madness I encountered in Croatia.'

Mikulanec had killed the Croatian werewolf, though not with a
silver bullet. He took out his knife and looked at it fondly. The
Begravar knife. The only one of its kind left in existence, as far as
he knew. It was a great advantage when it came to slaying werewolves.
None could stand against it, no matter how strong or savage they were.

75

"I want to see more Sabrina the Teenage Witch," said Kalix,
eagerly.

Daniel was apologetic.

"No more till next week."

"No more?" Kalix was cross. "But it's the best programme. They
must show more."

She looked appealingly at Daniel as if he could somehow make
the show appear again. Kalix was unfamiliar with TV scheduling and
found it hard to believe that a programme she liked so much could only
be shown once a week. Looking at the TV, which was currently showing a
gardening programme she found deeply unappealing, she felt baffled.

"Is it on another station?" she asked, and worked the remote
control.

"Not till Saturday," repeated Daniel.

"But it's better than these programmes," complained Kalix.
"Why won't they show it again?"

"It's TV," said Daniel "Lots of the programmes are bad."

"Could we phone them up and ask them to show more?"

Daniel laughed. He suggested that Kalix might email the
channel with her request. Kalix bounded upstairs. Moonglow was sitting
at her computer, translating Sumerian Cuneiform.

"Daniel says if I email the television they might show more
Sab-rina," she said, enthusiastically.

"Well, I'm kind of busy - " began Moonglow, but stopped.
Realising she'd never seen Kalix so enthusiastic about anything before,
and thinking that it was probably a good thing, she obliged the young
werewolf by finding the website of the relevant channel. Kalix watched,
interested in the process.

"Do you want to write the email?" asked Moonglow.

"My paws are too big for the keyboard," said Kalix.

Moonglow composed the email. She read it out loud to Kalix,
knowing that the werewolf could not really read much of what was
written, even though Kalix pretended she could. When Kalix was
satisfied, Moonglow sent off her heartfelt plea for more Sabrina. Kalix
thanked her then bounded downstairs again to tell Daniel that there
would soon be more teenage witch adventures on TV.

"Do you think they'll show more tonight?" she asked.

"It might take a bit longer for your email to reach the
executives."

Kalix nodded. She supposed it might. Daniel had a TV listings
magazine which Kalix wanted to read. She made an attempt but again
found it difficult. She had an urge to ask Daniel to check it, just in
case he was misinformed about Sabrina, but held back. The young
werewolf was ashamed of her poor reading skills.

Daniel also had work to do. He was meant to be speaking
tomorrow at a seminar on
Tim on of Athens
.
Deciding that he could probably write something later, he put it out of
his mind and went off to make tea and toast. Kalix followed him into
the kitchen.

"Meat?" she said.

There was meat in the fridge for Kalix though both Daniel and
Moonglow were nervous about what might happen tomorrow if the werewolf
gorged herself again tonight. Would it lead to more vomiting and
hysteria? Whether it did or not, it seemed best to provide her with
anything she wanted. Moonglow had the accurate impression that this
might be the only time in the whole month that she would actually eat.
Kalix had shown amazing powers of recovery. Only two nights ago she had
lain broken and bleeding in the alleyway. Now she was bounding around
like an athlete. It was an indication of Kalix's great inner vitality.
If she looked after herself properly there was no telling how vigorous
she might be.

Daniel made tea. Kalix hung around talking enthusiastically
about Sabrina the Teenage Witch. Daniel felt close to laughing. She was
funny when she was enthusiastic and even her werewolf face with its
alarmingly large teeth did not prevent her from sounding like an eager
child. Spontaneously, he reached out to pat her furry head. Kalix
looked shocked, and growled. Daniel hurriedly withdrew his hand.

"Too friendly?" he said.

"It's all right," said Kalix, and relaxed again.

She took her plate of meat and went to sit close to the TV,
hoping for another good programme. Daniel called upstairs to Moonglow,
telling her that she had to take a break.

"Too much cuneiform isn't good for you."

Moonglow, agreeing with this, appeared downstairs, and
gratefully accepted a cup of tea.

"How's your seminar going?"

"Great," replied Daniel.

"You haven't started yet, have you?"

Daniel admitted that he hadn't.

"But I'm close. And I'm really making progress with Kalix. You
see how cheerful she is?"

A savage growling noise caused them to turn round hurriedly.

"I hate this programme," said Kalix, and banged her paw on the
remote control. "I want cartoons."

76

Beauty and Delicious lived in a quiet residential street, a
little way from the centre of Camden. Knowing that she was unlikely to
find a parking space, Dominil had left her car at a car park and walked
the rest of the way. Heads turned as she strode past Camden tube
station. Even in this part of the city, where an unusual appearance was
not uncommon, Dominil's severely beautiful face and ice-white hair drew
attention.