October 11^th, 9pm
Iceland…

         Rufus, in his werewolf form, wore a kyrtill – a type of overtunic.  In appearance, it was simple wool of a simple drab coloration.  Wool leg wraps started at his ankles and stopped beneath the knee.  Errant strands of leg fur stuck out through a few gaps in the cloth.  His breath was illuminated by a fire at the heart of the gathering. 

         “Not one word, Bull,” said Rufus with a wan smile.  His eyes cut over to Úlfey then to the male suitor adjacent to her.  His gaze returned to the leader of the pack.  “Wha’s my task, sir?  I’m ready.”

         “No one saw you at morning chores.  But our seer was quite good at describing you.  You’ve yet to prove yourself, and, of course, that’s the reason we gather tonight.  The seer also said that our clans were in trouble.  It is prophesized that our kind will disappear for a time.  And that is why the Sampo may have to fall on you.  Before passing away, he told of our tribes’ disappearing.” 

         The gathered group murmured amongst themselves.  The head of the pack lifted his large paws to usher to group to silence.  “I know this causes worry and the idea of disappearing is an unsettling thought.  But our seer, a man we’ve trusted our entire life, was quite firm in his belief that somehow… this Lone Wolf, Rufus Darken, would save werewolf-kind.  Although how he’ll do it remains a mystery.  The seer also spoke of his future love for a Finnish female, a human.  The seer spoke of darkness ahead.  And, finally, the seer spoke of a future for my daughter.  That her child would come to lead this pack in the name of Fenris.”

         Soft murmurs of appreciation came from the gathered werewolves.  Collobulous glanced about the mostly-quiet village then back at Rufus in the awkward old-fashion clothing.  He folded his hands, admiring the differences and similarities between his Aboriginal upbringing, Native American teachings, and the werewolf tribe of Fenris. 

         To Collobulous, these people drew more parallels to tribal life of his own heritage, than to the Icelandic ways, or even Old Norse culture. 

         All at once, he noticed that several of the werewolves perked.  Their ears lifted straight up, sharp and tall.  He glanced around, seeing noses twitch and fur bristling. 

         “Collobulous?” shouted a feminine voice.  Everyone turned to face a human woman who broke through a clearing.  “Jesus.”  She slid to a halt, eyes wide.  “Dammit.  Okay.  The human fellow with the dark skin… You and your friend, Rufus, and his lady friend… uhm… Úlfey.  The three of you need to get out of this village now.  The rest of you… this village is about to become under attack.”

         Most everyone in the gathering came to their feet.  The pack leader cut a swath through the group and approached Samantha Summers.  “The seer also told of you.  Your appearance.  He said an American girl would be the last thing I see before my people witness The Great Injustice.  I did not presume these prophecies would happen so close together.”

         “This town is about to come under siege by a mercenary group up on the hill.  They’re here to kill you for some whack-job named Aris Falcon.   We need to get everyone evacuated and underground right away.”

         “We don’t run away!” the pack leader announced.  “We fight in the name of Fenris.”

         “Can you fight fire?!” she snapped.  “Because they’re about to level this village with mortars.”  Summers paused, seeing several of the enormous furry beasts flinch and perk.  Her head lifted.  “If you hear whistling… we need to scatter.”

         “I assure you that we’ll fight to our last breath.”  The leader unfastened a cloak used for warmth and dropped it over the fire.  The immediate area darkened significantly.  “We will use our sense of smell and our keen hearing to have an advantage.  We’ll use the darkness of night to aid us in…”

         Without warning, a fifty caliber shell struck the pack leader’s head from behind.  The sniper round obliterated his head in mid-sentence and his body dropped to the cold ground with a thump. 

         Samantha expected to hear screaming but no one said a word.  Instead, the gathered pack took up a defensive posture.  Several of them dashed out into the surrounding woods, fanning out to take up flanking positions. 

         Úlfey approached her father, staring at the macabre mess above his neckline.  The lower jaw of her muzzle quivered.  She closed her paws then opened them several times, as though completely numb.  Summers hurried towards her and guided her to the left, to take cover behind the nearest cabin. The female werewolf seemed oblivious to the hands on her wool-covered hip.

         After a moment, in a loud, clear voice, Úlfey announced, “Hunt every last one of them.  We fight until there is a clear victor!  FOR FENRIS!”  

         “Fenris!” shouted the group.  They dispersed with alarming speed.

         Samantha shoved Úlfey back away from the body again and said, “Wait!  Don’t go!” 

         “Who are you,” she snapped, adding, “And why did my father wait until tonight to mention that you were part of the seer’s prophecy?” 

         “I don’t know.  I’ve come on behalf of someone who says that you, Rufus, and the human guy all have to leave.  You have to live in order to repopulate or something.”

         The area began to thin out, leaving the two alone at the center of the village.  “Repopulate??  That’s absurd.  Who sent you?”

         “A man named Lance Patterson.  Look, I’m sorry about your father.  I really am.  But you have to understand something.  You cannot fight tonight.”

         “What?! My father was slain.  I have to lead this clan into battle alongside our fellow tribesmen.”

         Samantha reached out and put her hand on the werewolf’s large, furry wrist.  It caught Úlfey’s attention.  Summers jerked her hand back, surprised by the feel of the pelt on the woman’s forearm.  “Look… Lance said you’re expecting.  He said they’re supposed to be the male leader of your new pack… or clan or tribe or however it works.”

         “An ignorant Anglo Saxon.  What a surprise,” Úlfey sneered.

         Samantha threw her arms up in the air.  “Everyone here will die, tonight!  You’re carrying with the future leader of your people.  You have to go with me.” 

         Úlfey froze.  She turned back to Samantha and sneered, muzzle contorted into a snarl.  “I’m what?”

         “You’re pregnant.” Summers saw the large werewolf roll her eyes.  “You must believe me.  Lance said you conceived today.  If that’s true, then the baby doesn’t even have a heartbeat yet.  You cannot get into a fight.  This is a critical time in the pregnancy.  You have to come with me.  I’ll get you out of here, then I’ll come back and find Rufus and Collobulous.” 

         Úlfey licked her lips.  The curl beneath her snout disappeared.  “No one knows what I did last night.  And it certainly wasn’t planned.  There’s no way you could have known.” 

         “Lance said some oracle told him.  Now come with me.” Samantha pointed towards the tree line.  “Now, before that sniper makes you his next target.” She reached for Úlfey’s forearm again.  “C’mon!  We need to make you a smaller target.  Can you turn back into a human or whatever?”

         “I…”

         “No time, just do it!”  Summers glanced around then went back towards the extinguished fire.  Samantha took the cloak of Sig-Vard from the smoldering small campfire, and shook it hard then brought it back to the woman as she began her transformation.  The agent threw the warm wool cloth around Úlfey’s body and guided her away from the heart of the village. 

         “We have to stop by my father’s cabin first.  There’s an artifact called The Sampo.  We cannot let it fall into the hands of those men.  We’re sworn to protect it under all costs.” 

         Samantha put her free hand to her ear, listening to a voice on her Bluetooth earpiece.  She glanced back at Úlfey then nodded.  “Fine.  Let’s go and get it, then we’ve gotta get the hell out of here.” 

         An explosion lit up the sky.  One of the cabins across the courtyard turned into liquid gold as fire consumed the structure in a flash.  Another smaller explosion came from the east.  A handmade wheelbarrow came crashing down not far from the women, charred and burning.  “They’re fire-bombing the village with mortars,” Samantha explained.  “Let’s get to his cabin quick; move it.”

X

X

         Rufus hurried through the village.  Up ahead, he could see attacking forces coming down the hill.  “Bull!”

         Collobulous opened his hands and caught a grenade in his palm.  He pivoted about then launched it back at the group of men running straight at the village. 

         The grenade exploded before it hit the ground.  The concussive force threw the mercenary infantry to their backs.  With the incoming enemy dazed, Collobulous took the time to uproot a tree.  He brought it against his hip, arms around the trunk, and swung it.  The branches swept the ground.  The top of the tree knocked everyone else down in one swat. 

         He dropped the tree onto the ground, drew back his foot then kicked it.  The full tree, branches and all, rocketed through the clearing, pinning down men.  Bullakulla’s right shoe came apart.  He kicked it away then ditched the other. 

         Rufus laughed, “Ain’t a shoe yet that cin withstand you!”  He dove at the nearest attacker and pounced him down.  Rue snarled in the man’s face and, in an unsettling tone, growled the words, “Where’s your command post?”

         “Please, I have a family!”

         “You just attacked mine,” Rufus snarled.  “Where’s the command post?!”

         “Atop the North Hill!” 

         Rufus drew his head up then tucked his muzzle down and headbutted the man in the face.  He dashed off, bound over the tree, and dropped to all fours, in a full gallop.  Rue made his way up the hill; momentum carried him over the crest. 

         He bashed through the door of a metal command trailer, breaking the top hinge.  The crooked door stayed wide open, unable to close anymore.  He stood up on his hind legs and moved towards three men against the far wall. 

         One of them withdrew a pistol and fired.  The round passed through Rufus’ body, narrowly missing his spine.  He wrapped his large left paw around their face before they could fire again.  He lifted the man up then swung his body.  The commanding officer’s legs struck the other two men, mowing down all three. 

         “CALL OFF THE ATTACK!” he roared.  “Now!”

         “I can’t!  Our communications officer is in America.  I don’t have direct line of…”

         Rufus grasped him by either side of his head, drew a foot back, then kicked the man so hard in the gut that his neck broke.  The werewolf turned to the other two men, one of which was unconscious.  “Call it in, NOW!” 

         The man scrambled for a nearby radio receiver, picked up the microphone and said, “Call a retreat!” 

         A voice came over the line, one that sounded familiar but Rufus couldn’t quite place it.  “Negative.  The job is done when the village is burned to the ground.”

         Rufus sneered.  He reached for the man’s left hand and ripped his glove off.  He saw a ring on the man’s left hand then snarled.  “You get to live.  Quit your job.  I might not be so charitable next time, hoss.” He shoved the man to the ground then snatched the microphone.

         With a carefully placed thumbclaw over the button, Rufus spoke into the receiver.  “Whoever you are… I’m going to find you.  And when I do, I’m going to feast on your entrails.  So do me a favor… lobster tails or steak.  That’s what I want you to eat for dinner tomorrow.”

         “You and your friend couldn’t hurt me if you tried,” said the man on the other end.  The connection cut, causing a low hum over the speaker. 

         “Cocky.  But you jus’ pissed off the wrong pair of good ole’ boys.” Rufus hurried back out of the command trailer and approached the top of the hill. 

         He gazed down over the village and sighed in disgust, seeing most of the buildings on fire.  The blaze spread to nearby trees, engulfing grass and a handful of trucks and vans. 

         “Rufus!”

         He turned about to the sound of another guttural voice.  Eric approached, wearily.  Half of his fur was burned away, showing splotchy patches of black flesh.  The burns went across the left side of his body and arm, but his legs and everything above his neck appeared to be intact.  “Where is Úlfey?”

         “I don’t know.  She said to fan out and attack.  I just shut down their command post.  Her father was killed in the attack.”

         “I saw.  Shot by the mongrels.” 

         Rufus eyed him for a minute.  “Humans are the mongrels now?” He approached Eric and came beneath his right arm and helped him back towards the hill.  “I’d tell you to wait here but I know you ain’t done fighting.”

         “I know you fucked Úlfey.  Neither of you were anywhere to be seen this morning.  Your scent was all over her this evening.  I don’t want your help.  But make sure she’s alive.  She’s head of the pack, now.” 

         “I’m… Dayum. I’m sorry that…”

         “Shut up, American.  Our relationship was arranged.  She slept with you because she knows my true preference.  I only upheld our relationship out of obligation.  Make sure she’s alive.  Go.” 

         “What about you, hoss?”

         “I’ll secure this post.  They’ll have medical supplies here.  Just GO!”

         Rufus tightened his jaw, nodded, and said, “Stay alive.”  His ears perked at the sound of an approaching whistle.  “MOVE!” 

         “GO!”

         Rufus dove down the hill.  Intense heat followed him down the hill.  He tumbled, rolling end over end then slid down the slope on his chest, arms covering his face. 

         He came to a halt and looked up at a pair of combat boots.  An assault rifle brushed against his forehead, in front of his right ear.  Rue snarled.  “You gunna shoot me in the dirt or let me die on my feet like a man?”

         The soldier took two steps back.  “Up.”

         Rufus got to all fours, then slowly rose to his hindpaws.  “That’s right.  Look right in my eyes when you pull the trigger.  Rufus Tucker Darken.  Go ahead.  Already been shot once.  Do it the right way.” 

         The soldier pointed his rifle in Rufus’ face.  “I can respect that.” Suddenly he collapsed backwards.  The mercenary fired his weapon straight into the air as he collapsed in agony.  Blood gushed from his leg, nearly separated from a massive wound. 

         Rufus snatched the rifle away then unclasped the man’s belt and pulled it out from beneath the secondary gear belt.  He wrapped it around the man’s thigh to reduce bloodflow.  “Got your goddamn leg shot off, pal.  You gave me battlefield courtesy, I’ll do the same.  But I ain’t executing you, jackass.  You need to cauterize that leg if you can’t get medevac’d as soon as possible.”

         The man screamed at the top of his lungs and writhed around in pain.  Rufus grasped the man by eitherside of his face, repeated his instructions then stood up and raced off.  He saw Samantha and Úlfey nearby and hurried after them. 

         “Agent lady!  Thanks for shooting that guy for me.  Where’s Collobulous?!” 

         “He’s clearing a path!” she shouted, pointing forward. 

         Rufus glanced up, seeing a figure in the distance, picking up a small pickup truck.  “Showin’ off for you ladies, I think.” 

         Bull threw the truck into a LandRover operated by the mercenaries.  The two vehicles collided, knocking the SUV onto its side.  Men began climbing out from within it.  The tall black man drew his foot back and kicked the SUV.  It launched up into the air, rotating twice, then landed on its wheels. 

         “Oh my God,” Summers whispered.  “How can he do that?”

         “Tough skin, tough skeleton… he’s a tough sunnuvabitch.” Rufus turned to Úlfey and looked her over.  “I’m… I was with Eric.  We… we took the command post down together.  It was destroyed by mortar fire.  They must have seen that we took the north ridge.  He wanted me to find you and keep you alive.”

         The daughter of Sigvard looked up at the north hill, burning out of control.  “We never should have had the village in a valley.  It made his vulnerable.”

         “Úlfey…”

         “No.  My father was one of six known immortal werewolves.  He doesn’t age.  Now he’s gone.  That’s a tragic loss.”  She swallowed, jaw trembling.  Her ear lays back atop of her head.  “Our people have been wiped out.  We’re extinct, Rufus.  We’re…” She broke off into a string of Icelandic, waving her arms about in irritation. 

         “Later,” Samantha snapped.  “We have to go!”

         Úlfey shoved a dufflebag into Rufus’ arms and said, “That’s the Sampo.  Don’t carry it around.  Take it to America.  There’s a legend of a man in California.  He can steal anything.  His family has hidden their treasures in a secure place.  He’ll know what to do with it.  He’s the one who brought us the Sampo to begin with.  Jonathan Conner Parker.  If he’s dead, give it to his son, who shares the same name.  Parker Junior will know how to hide the Sampo.” 

         “I…” Rufus shouldered the bag.  He nodded to Summers and said, “Keep her safe.”  Then he turned to Úlfey, cupped either side of her wolfish muzzle and kissed her, despite all the fire and chaos all around them.  He expected her to jerk away or swing at him. 

         Instead, Úlfey melted into it with a sigh.  She brought her paws up overtop of his.  After a brief moment to enjoy it, she pulled his paws from her maw and said, “I’m going to Alaska.  I plan to move around for a bit.  I’m sorry, Rufus…”

         “For what, darlin’?”

         “For calling you a traitor to your kind.”  She touched his chest then gave him a shove.  “Go.”  She turned with Summers and they headed into the forest to the south. 

         Rufus looked back at the burning village.  Bodies of werewolves were scattered about on the ground.  Cabins roared with fire.  Mercenaries lay strewn about, some having been ripped apart and dismembered.  He clenched his jaw and perked his ears then sniffed at the wind. 

         Collobulous came back towards Rufus and said, “I can’t find any survivors from either side.  How’ve we survived again?  Our power and purpose of our Dreaming still eludes me.”  He paused then leaned in close.  “You’ve been shot, Rue.” 

         “Yeah.  Yeah, Tonto, it went clean through.  I saw Úlfey’s boyfriend get blown up.  I seen her father get shot in th’ head.  I’ve seen enough carnage.”  He shifted the bag a bit then sighed.  “We gotta get back to America.  She wants me to hand this thing away but… I’d rather nobody knows where it is.  So I reckon we should go bury this thing in the Fortress of Solitude, yeah?” 

         Collobulous looked around the quietly burning village and frowned.  “An anticlimactic ending to our adventure, Kimosabe.  It is a sad thing to see such sorry business.  Especially to such a hospitable and noble people.”

         “Yeah… it’s goddamn sad.”

X

X

October 25^th, 2023…
Athens, Greece…

         Úlfey stepped off the plane and gazed around the city of Athens Greece.  “So much for Alaska.  I’m going to roast here.”  She shifted her bag to her other arm and walked down onto the tarmac.  She looked around then tilted her head.  Her eyes met those of a little old woman across the way.  She slowly began to approach the elderly woman.  “Are you…?”

         “YiaYia, yes.  It means… Grandma.  Welcome home, dear.  You have quite the pregnancy ahead of you.  But we can help one another out, because I need quite the protector to keep me safe.  I’m glad you speak English, because, my dear, I don’t speak a lick of Icelandic.”

         “Why am I here?”

         “Because no one will find you with me.  You’re safe.  Your son is safe.”

         Úlfey frowned thoughtfully.  “I mean…what is my purpose while I’m here?  I need to have purpose in my life.”

         “Oh, trust me, dear.  You’ll have plenty enough purpose after the end of my story.”

         “Story?”

         “Mm, yes.  That is how I see my prophecies.  As stories.  And believe me, yours doesn’t start until mine has ended.  So take the time to relax and enjoy life for a bit, my dear.  And… if I may be so bold… keep your chin up.  You’ll see Rufus again.  It will be some time, but you’ll see him again.  And you’ll both be lonely and ready for companionship when it happens.”

         “What do I do in the mean time?”

         “Oh, you don’t want to get involved in the events to come.”

         “Why not?”

         “Because, Úlfey… there is much death and suffering ahead.  It’s best we keep our heads down and simply watch from afar.  A lot of what was supposed to happen has somehow been changed.  We’re not sure how, but… something has altered the timelines.  We, the seers, have learned that fate has fallen to freewill.  Destiny is now in the hands of the destined.  But fear not… I have a homecooked meal waiting for you at home.  Do you like Double Baklava Cheesecake?”

X

X

October 27th,
Tokyo, Japan

         Sinopa Crevan stood up in the dress, putting her arms through the sleeves then she adjusted the lay of the fabric over her body. She approached a mirror and ran her fingers back through long red locks with an inward smile. "Kitsune-gao-bijin, indeed,"she murmured aloud. Sinopa slowly turned sideways in front of the mirror, examining her figure in the kimono she wore. "Tamamo-no-Mae doesn't know what she's talking about. I'm gorgeous as a human woman. Her eyes either deceive her or she was being unpleasant, as usual." Sinopa turned about the other way and modeled for herself again. "In the name of the thirteen tribes, if I'm going to be in this form for long periods of time, I'm going to need transportation. But I must admit, I make for an attractive human being." She frowned at the reflection then glared into her own amber gaze. "Okay, so I'm cute. But I'm also young. Hmm."

         "Silly girl," she scolded herself with a smile. "Those celestial bureaucrats really think I can make a difference? What is it they see?" she continued in a soft voice. "Perhaps this human shape will grow on me over time. Tamamo says I should recognize it, but she's obviously crazy from age."

         Sinopa lifted her right hand and examined the skin tone and delicate sculpt of her fingertips. Then, with only the will of thought, she created a small flame that danced over her fingernail. "Excellent," said Sinopa. "They may strip me of my dignity by forcing me to play the role of a human but they'll never have my element." She glanced back up at the mirror again and smiled. Her chin and torso were illuminated by the glowing fire that she held aloft in her left hand, moving it from finger to finger. She then guided it back over her palm.

         Crevan tilted her head slowly then pondered aloud, "Why does my human form not resemble that of an Asian woman, I wonder?" She moved close to the mirror and, with her right hand, she touched her cheeks then pressed against the skin beneath her eyes. "More like… European. That Kumiho bitch. She didn't tell me I wouldn't even look Japanese. That's an insult to Inari and my heritage. I'm going to burn the fur right off her kami ass." She clenched her left hand into a fist and the flame disappeared. Sinopa licked her lips then smiled at the mirror. Her incisors were short and humanlike. The smile faded.

         Finally, she turned away from the mirror and glanced over her shoulder. Last but not least, she lifted the back of her kimono then smirked at the three orange-furred foxtails that were ankle length. The thickness of the pelt caused them to appear fluffy and large. "Well, well. I suppose not everything is perfect. You can still see my brushes. I'll need hair bands and a comb of some sort lest I pick up burrs." She dropped the backside of the kimono then turned towards the mirror again.

         "Tamamo! You expect me to pass as a human like this?" she exclaimed with no reply. "This modern world is one of sex, collusion and small clothing! Pants that are shapely hemmed! Bathing suits that leave little to the imagination! Their art and music lyrics portray women's backsides as shapely and without tails! Surely by causing me to fail my mission, you will not be winning any favors with Inari!" Still no reply. "No bean curd or rice for you, Tamamo, you cruel jezebel."

         A feral vixen's white-furred face appeared in the mirror. The fox's body appeared blurry behind her visage with nine fluffy appendages beyond. Her left ear flickered overtop of her head. The vixen's whiskers lay back along her elongated muzzle. It opened and elegant words spilled from her maw. "Sinopa, you chose an unorthodox name. A Native American first name, an Irish surname. Lord Inari has given you the appearance that best fits your namesake. Consider yourself lucky. When I was your age, the ritual involved in human transformation was far more rigorous. It included the need for a human skull, I might add. Insulting me will not help you. Furthermore, my ability of illusion is being taxed by your distance from the celestial shrine. Hold your tongue, lest I throw you back where I found you in a skulk of clueless nogitsune. Have self-respect for your status as a Myobu. You have a job to do, young one. Stop grousing, stop admiring yourself, and find a way out of Japan."

         The human-looking Sinopa smirked in reply. "I did some light reading while preparing before I crossed over to this realm. Did you know that your name is still synonymous with treachery and evil in modern day Japan, Tamamo? It's been a thousand years since you first inspired mortal humans with your deceitful ways. A leopard doesn't change its spots, even when its pelt turns gray. Anyhow, I will require transportation," Sinopa replied.

         The small fox in the mirror curled its upper lips, revealing vulpine fangs. "I… suggest flight. Humans have mastered it now." She gnashed her teeth, frustrated by Sinopa's disrespect. "Find a way to Yokosuka and, from there, see if you can't find your way to a state known as California in a country called America. There, you'll find a bustling town called, "The city of San Francisco." I've told you all I can from where I am at, Sinopa. May Inari smile upon you and…"

         "How do I know you're speaking for Inari," said Sinopa. "You expect me to believe the great assembly called upon you to send me to Earth? Come now, Tamamo, we all know your background. As I just said a moment ago, even the mortal beings of this time know of you. Their historical memories have become cultural stories. You're a villainess."

         The female fox in the reflection looked away. "You speak of tales told and passed forth from over many generations. Things have changed since then. Be careful, though. Human men have an allure that will make them as appealing to you as you will be to them. So, please, keep your wits about you."

         "Can I transition back to my natural form?"

         "If necessary to do so," said the female vulpine creature seen in the mirror. "Just focus yourself and relax your mind. It's as easy to do as the foxfire you've just waved about a moment ago. And remember, don't transition or use your elemental abilities in front of mortal society. They will attack you because they don't understand. Now, start working to find out how we can restore the celestial balance. There's a man in San Francisco who is hunting for some of the world's most precious treasures – one of the ones he stole came from Japan. Don't let these pieces fall into the wrong hands. Enough banter. Go forth and do your best, Sinopa." The little white-furred animal narrowed its golden eyes and furrowed its brows, causing the whiskers below her triangular ears to shift. "And, may I just add, I demand you stop grousing about me to a reflective, polished surface of flame-blown sand."

         Crevan glared at the mirror then stomped her foot. The image faded, replaced by a human female wearing a kimono. "Perhaps I can convince any who see my tails that they're an up-and-coming Japanese fashion trend. This should prove interesting… to say the least."

         She turned from the mirror and looked around her surroundings. The posh atmosphere and ritzy furnishings delighted the eyes; the soft rug felt cool and smooth almost like talcum powder beneath her feet. Sinopa approached a window then widened her eyes. She lifted her gaze to Mt. Fuji in the distance then glanced back down at the moving dots that populated the streets of Tokyo. "Are all the prefectures like this one?" She lifted her human hands and placed them on the window then tested its durability. "Fantastic…" She licked her lips then pushed on the window again. "This somehow seems… familiar."

         A sound from across the posh room caused her ears to perk up from her hair. She lifted her hands to touch them then turned around in time to see a man in a business suit and a handsome man in a uniform walk through the front entrance to the suite. The man in the business suit tilted his head with a slight smile. He reached up to adjust a strange piece of fabric knotted beneath his throat. The man in the uniform wore something similar, at the throat, but in a bow shape.

         The uniformed gentleman placed two strange looking pieces of luggage within the door and quickly approached Sinopa, speaking in Japanese. "You shouldn't be in here, miss! This suite costs two million yen per day! Speaking on behalf of the Midtown Tower Ritz Carlton, I demand you vacate the premises immediately before I notify the authorities!"

         "Gentlemen," she replied with a demure smile, playing coy while using her hands to shift her hair to better hide her ears. "I am simply lost. I found my way here and stopped by the window to admire Fuji-no-Takane."

         The man with the dark business attire said, "Fujisan is my favorite sight, as well. Today is a particularly clear day. What, may I ask, is your name?"

         "Sinopa Crevan. And if you ask your butler to take his leave, I will make it worth your while."

         The man turned to the hotel worker, tipped him handsomely then said, "I will see to it that our guest finds her way. Look at her European facial structure – she obviously comes from nobility. I'm sure she meant no harm."

         "Are you sure, sir?" asked the man in the uniform. He took the money and placed it into his pocket without counting it. "Is there anything else I can do for you, sir?"

         "No. Thank you so very much."

         The hotel staff member bowed, a gesture returned by the man in the business apparel. The worker left, closing the door behind himself. Sinopa smiled softly at the new tenant of the lavish suite. He smiled in return and said, "There is an authentic two hundred year old teahouse here. Would you like to see it?"

         Sinopa licked her lips. "Now that we're alone, I would like to tell you a secret. But I need you to promise that it will stay between us." She smiled at the nod he offered then added, "I will accompany you briefly but then I require your assistance for transportation to Yokosuka. It is there that I am to find apparent transportation across the ocean to a place called, "San Francisco, California." I have time, however, to honor such a gracious host. I wouldn't want to be a poor guest. Allow me to serve you tea in exchange for your hospitality then I will find resources for my trip when en route."

         "Perhaps I could help you with your expedition, Miss Crevan. Come, I will show you the teahouse. Do you know the Japanese customs for serving tea?"

         "I am quite proficient at…" She paused then smiled, realizing he asked because she didn't appear Japanese. "I've learned and would be delighted to demonstrate my abilities. Lead the way, honorable sir. I would love to hear more about you. And would you be so kind as to make me more enlightened – what may I call you?" She fell into step behind him, playing the vulnerable female, and treating him as a venerable male to boost his ego.

X

X

October 30^th, 8pm PST
San Francisco, California…

         Karla Howard looked up from her tablet.  She slid her legs out from beneath herself and eased from the sofa then crossed the living room in the blink of an eye.  She peered through the peep hole then quickly unlocked the door.  “Eric Loupe, right?”

         “Yeah, Donovan’s nephew.” He pursed his lips together then took a deep breath.  “I’m not very good with… or maybe I am, I don’t know… but this is awkward for me.  I’ve been talking to Donovan.  But… he’s not very good company sometimes, and you’re the only other person I know right now.”

         Karla stood in the doorway for a moment then leaned into the door frame, playing sultry.  She brought her hand up and pushed a wave of blond over her left eye, offering a coquettish gaze at him.  “Oh, where are my manners.  Come in.”  Then, without warning, she teleported him just inside the doorway.  “There.  Much better.” 

         Eric’s eyes widened.  He looked around the area then back at her.  “You just…?”

         “Didn’t your uncle tell you I can do that?”  She stepped from the doorway and waved at the door.  It slammed shut as though by a remote control.  “See?”  She turned about and reached for his hands then appeared to admire them.  “Give me those.  Let me see them up close.  You’ve got some really nice hands, babe. 

         “Donovan said I should stay away from you.  He sounded pretty firm about it.”

         “So why are you here?”

         “Like I said, I just… I need to be around someone I know right now.  I suppose I could go to the local bar and find new friends but… I’ve already got two.  Seemed like a good start.”

         “Aren’t you just a loyal boy.”

         “Boy,” Eric scoffed.  “Loyal, I’ll bite for that.  But the only thing I know about myself is what was on birth certificate and social security card.  My address is a PO Box that doesn’t even exist.  My whole life is a mystery.  And I’m not exactly comfortable with this stretch of adventure.  I just want something to feel familiar.”

         Karla put a hand on his hip and guided him over to the sofa then sat down next to him.  She lifted her legs up and draped them across his lap.  “You’re a Taurus, aren’t you?”

         “I… I don’t know.  Mid May.” 

         “Yup.  Taurus.  I knew it.  You know, I’m surprised more guys aren’t into astrology or horoscopes.  Mostly women are into it, because we like to look for meaning in things.  For a man, it would be like being the only male shopper in a grocery store full of women.  Third best place to meet singles, after all.”

         “The grocery store?  What’s the first best place?”

         “Bars and church.  And those aren’t my scene.  If I need to feed, I walk into a nightclub or a bar, I make a decision, and walk’em right back out with me.”

         “Feed?  You some sort of vampire?”

         “Succubus, actually.  I’m not into the blood-sex thing.  Also not my scene.  Not into heavy BDSM.  Not into watersports or any of that jazz.  Not into hot wax.  I guess I’m pretty vanilla for a Scorpio, huh?”

         Eric Loupe chuckled and ran his hands back through his hair.  “I… guess.  So what does it for you, then, huh?”

         “Passion.  Spine tingling, over-the-top intense passion.”

         “Do you get much of that with a quickie?”

         “At that point, the guy or girl I wind up with… they’re just as hungry as I am for it.  I’ll take passion where I can get it, hon.  The sex keeps me from aging.  The passion keeps me alive.”

         “We all have to live for something.  I just wish I knew what the hell was wrong with me, how I got to South Africa, where I got the gun from… who I spoke to on that phone in that phone booth… why the phone call record showed a number that doesn’t even exist in the log… I wouldn’t shoot someone.  I certainly wouldn’t kill myself after all of that.  I’d demand answers.  That’s what I want now.”

         Karla frowned.  She withdrew her legs from his lap and pulled his head against his chest.  “Come to the bosom.  Everyone needs a bosom for a pillow.  Look.  I know Donovan wants us apart.  He’s a good guy, your uncle.  I trust’em.  We’ve saved each other’s ass, actually.  Look, we’ve made connections.  And I have a way to make new connections easier than he does.  I’ll help you look into it, okay?”

         “Really?”

         “Yeah,” she kissed the top of his head with a smile.  “I don’t have a lot of real friends.  You know, the kind you can count on and call outside of the bedroom.  I’ll help you if you help me.”

         “Consider me a friend.  Anyone willing to help me find answers is worth my time and then some.” 

         Karla smiled and rested her chin on his head.  “How about some Netflix?  You have a favorite show?”

         “I have no idea.  Something with action, pretty girls… and considering the fact I need to wrap my mind around this whole supernatural thing… how about something that blends Fantasy and Sci-Fi?”

         Karla laughed.  “Girls, supernatural stuff, and fantasy?  I know of an oldie-but-goodie that came out over ten years ago.”  She picked up her remote and maneuvered the NetFlix user-interface then brought up a show called ‘Lost Girl’.  “Sweetheart, you have your homework cut out for you.  Because not one of these shows ever got all the details right.  So let’s catch up on a marathon of everything that’s just ‘close enough.’  We’ll start with this, then hit Fringe, Supernatural, Doctor Who, just about every superhero flick available for streaming, and, hopefully, by then, you’ll be able to accept it as fact.  But… we’re going to have to skip Twilight.  Trust me, hon, I’m doing you a favor.” 

         “Never heard of it.”

         “Let’s just say… Vampires don’t sparkle.  Trust me, I know one.  And he’s way hotter than the guy from Twilight.”

         “If you say so.  Is he your main squeeze?”

         Karla laughed softly.  “I don’t have a main squeeze.  Why, you want that role or something?  Seriously, though… Kalen can’t have sex.  He’s just… sexy.  Kind of a shame, really.”

         “I’ll take your word for it.”  Eric’s eyes shifted up to the screen as the pilot episode came on.  “Wait, it’s a show about a succubus?”

         Karla tittered softly.  “I know, right?  How rich is that?”

         “Why is a real-life succubus sitting in the living room, watching NetFlix at Eight o’clock on a Monday night?” He offered a hint of a grin.  “If you’re really a demon, shouldn’t you be out egging people’s car?  It’s The Devils Night, after all.  Day before Halloween.”

         “Because I’m a loser, hon.”

         “I hardly think that’s the reason.”

         She gently ran her fingers through his hair and sighed.  “Want to know a secret?”

         “Sure.”

         Karla rested her chin on his head again with a sigh.  “Tonight is my four hundred twenty-fourth birthday.  Still no husband.  Still no kids.  Not that I can have a normal relationship because I need to have sex so often.  But… yeah.  Sitting in and watching shows I’ve already seen.  At least I can to share them with someone tonight.”

         “Don’t you want a cake and ice cream or something?”

         Karla laughed softly.  “When I used to live on the east coast, I used to go to a place called Friendly’s for my birthdays.  They don’t have’em over here.”

         “I know an all-night IHOP.  If we’re going to have high calorie food, like ice cream and burgers, let’s just go there.”

         Karla smiled and nodded.  “Lost Girl can wait.”  She tilted her head then shifted her weight back to look him over.  “Hold up… How did you know that Friendly’s serves ice cream and burgers?”

         He tilted his head back in reply.  “I… I don’t know, but …that’s what I pictured when you mentioned the name.  You think it’s possible I’m from the east coast?”

         She smiled a bit.  “I think we just figured out the first piece to your puzzle, hon.”

END OF ACT1, BOOK2

Act1, Book3 to follow shortly!

THANKS FOR READING!

I APPRECIATE IT!