Martin Millar - Lonely Werewolf Girl (40 page)

"Get ready. We have to leave soon."

"Can't leave now," muttered Delix. "Hair's a mess."

"Then wear a hat."

Delix seemed scandalised by the idea.

"There's no way I'm leaving the house till my hair's exactly
right and you can scowl all you want you white-haired bitch it doesn't
make any difference."

Beauty and Delicious headed for the bathroom to attend to
their hair. The sisters' excessive vanity was infuriating. Neither of
them could so much as step out into the street without preening
themselves for hours in front of the mirror. Even a trip to the shops
to buy a pint of milk had to be preceded by a long session with their
make-up bags.

While waiting for the sisters to get ready Dominil worked at
her computer. She'd downloaded some new hacking software and was
modifying it. A few days ago Dominil had attempted to break into the
Guild's computers but she'd been unsuccessful. Since her last cyber
spying mission the Guild had increased their protection. Dominil was
now upgrading her own software to penetrate the Guild's new security
encryption.

Twenty minutes later she knocked heavily on the bathroom door.

"It's time to go. Finish your hair. We're only going to the
rehearsal studio. Have you considered the matter of a name for your
band yet? If I'm to book you gigs you need a name."

Dominil noticed a familiar aroma.

"Are you drinking whisky in there?"

"Yes. And we're almost finished our hair. We haven't thought
of a name yet. What was that stupid one you suggested?"

"Yum Yum Sugary Snacks. I still like it. It employs irony, and
also alliteration. Alliteration has been a powerful poetic tool for a
long time. The Anglo-Saxon poets - "

"Will you shut up?" yelled Beauty.

"We'll call the band anything just so long as you don't go on
about these damned Anglo-Saxon poets again," added Delicious.

When the twins were finally ready Dominil bundled them into
her car and set off. They were late, though it probably wouldn't
matter. The others would also be late. No matter how scared everyone
was of Dominil - and they were all scared of her
-
it seemed that no power on earth could get musicians to turn up
anywhere on time.

Dominil drove down to London Bridge with a lot on her mind.
She would have had a great deal more on her mind if she'd known that
the owner of the studio, having recognised them as werewolves due to
his previous association with the Guild, had already alerted Mr
Carmichael. The hunters were waiting for Yum Yum Sugary Snacks.

109

Gawain's next destination was the lair of the Young MacDoig.
If Kalix was using laudanum it could only have come from the MacDoigs.
There was no other known source. The night was cold and the rain was
coming down heavily by the time Gawain arrived at the narrow alleyway
in Limehouse. "Who is it?"

"Gawain MacRinnalch. Here to see the Young MacDoig."

"The Young MacDoig is not here," came the reply.

Gawain called back loudly. "Open this door or I'll remove it
from its hinges."

There was a pause. Gawain prepared to transform into his
werewolf shape but before he could tear the door down it swung open and
he found himself confronted not by the Young MacDoig but his father,
the Merchant himself. The Merchant beamed at him.

"Gawain MacRinnalch! An unexpected pleasure. Come in man, and
have a glass!"

Gawain entered the shop. He paid no heed to the clutter of
artefacts, and shook his head at the offer of a drink.

"What brings you round these parts?" asked the Merchant. He
smiled jovially, as if nothing could have pleased him more than a visit
from Gawain. Despite being indoors he still wore his black hat and even
though Gawain was fixated on his task he could not help but notice that
MacDoig, with his side-whiskers and cane, was a notably strange figure.
Micawber come to life perhaps, or Mr Pickwick.

"I'm looking for Kalix."

"Kalix MacRinnalch? I'm afraid you've come to the wrong place,
young Gawain. I've not seen Kalix for many a long year. I'm sorry I
can't help you."

The Merchant looked at Gawain, a benevolent expression on his
red, cheerful face. MacDoig knew well that the Mistress of the
Werewolves had banished Gawain, and he didn't intend to do anything
which might upset the clan. He might have been prevailed upon to sell
information but he surmised, quite correctly, that Gawain had no money
to spare.

"I think you must have some knowledge of her," declared
Gawain. "I was told that Kalix has been taking laudanum. No one sells
laudanum these days but you and your son."

"Laudanum? It's a fine product, I grant you that. It suits the
temperament of the poetic man, and indeed the poetic werewolf. I'm not
one to partake of it myself, of course, but I believe it has fuelled
the imagination of many an artist. Are you sure you won't take a glass
of whisky with me?"

"Never mind the whisky," growled Gawain. "Where's Kalix?"

The Merchant chuckled, and placed his thumbs in the pockets of
his pattered waistcoat.

"Not been here, Gawain, not been here at all."

"You're lying," said Gawain. "Her scent is in this room."

The Merchant chuckled again.

"There's no scent of any werewolf in this room, not even
yours."

MacDoig the Merchant was telling the truth. Though he was not
a sorcerer, MacDoig had a great deal of esoteric knowledge. He had
traded for many spells from various realms. There was one in place here
which prevented anyone from sensing who might have visited recently.
Gawain was bluffing. He couldn't sense Kalix. Gawain gave a long low
snarl and transformed into a werewolf.

"I won't ask you politely again," he said. "Tell me about
Kalix."

"Gawain, you are fine young werewolf. One of the finest, I've
always said. I knew your father well. What a warrior, and his father
before him. I was always sorry you found yourself in trouble with the
clan. My advice - "

He broke off as Gawain hurled himself towards him. Before he
reached the Merchant, Gawain was flung backwards with great force. He
crashed against the wall and found himself looking rather foolishly at
the MacDoig, who continued to grin affably.

"Ah, Gawain, you always did have a streak of impatience in
you. You know, young sir, that the MacDoigs are valued trading partners
in many places, and when a man goes to some of these places, he picks
up a thing of two. I wear a charm that will protect me from any
werewolf. Not that I expect any werewolf to attack me. After all I'm a
great friend of the MacRinnalchs."

MacDoig picked up a bottle and a glass from a table nearby.

"Are you sure you won't have a drink?"

Gawain growled, and shook his head.

"Then I suppose it's time for you to leave," said the
Merchant, and opened the door.

Later the Merchant chuckled to himself. Gawain. An impetuous
wolf. Heading for a bad end, he was sure. To whom would it most profit
him to transmit news of Gawain? The Mistress of the Werewolves? Or her
son Sarapen? Both perhaps? Like any good businessman, MacDoig was
always keen to keep in with his customers, and if in doing so he could
turn a profit, that was all to the good.

110

Kalix woke up the next day a little vague about what had
happened the night before. Feeling thirsty, she dressed quickly and
went downstairs. When Kalix crossed through the living room she was
surprised to see Moonglow and Jay huddled together on the floor, under
a quilt. They were still asleep but somehow they didn't look
comfortable. The young werewolf crept past silently, took water from
the kitchen and went back upstairs. As she reached her room, Daniel's
bedroom door opened and he peered out.

"Are they awake yet?" he whispered.

Kalix shook her head. Daniel tiptoed along the corridor with
exaggerated stealth and slipped into Kalix's small room.

"Good," he said. "I'm leaving the house before Moonglow gets
up."

"Why?" said Kalix, puzzled.

"After last night's debacle I figure she might need a few
hours to cool off."

"What's a debacle?"

"A general disaster in which everything goes wrong. You don't
remember?"

Kalix shook her head.

"What went wrong?"

"Well, there was you collapsing all over her boyfriend for one
thing."

Daniel looked pointedly at Kalix's bag.

"So the mysterious werewolf herbal concoction turns out to be
laudanum. Powerful stuff, by all accounts. Yes, well may you hang your
head in shame, Kalix, the way you plummeted to the ground, upsetting
Moonglow's carefully laid dinner arrangements."

Noticing that this had made Kalix much more agitated than he
intended, Daniel hurried to reassure her.

"Don't worry about it. Your collapse was no more than a side
show compared to my performance."

"What did you do?"

It was Daniel's turn to look ashamed.

"Started an argument with Jay and, quite possibly, tried to
pick a fight with him."

"You tried to pick a fight?" said Kalix, quite astonished at
the thought. She couldn't imagine Daniel fighting with anyone.

"I was severely provoked. He criticised Motorhead. You can't
do that in this house. Not when I've been drinking cider, anyway. I
guess I didn't really try to fight him. Just abused him verbally for a
while…"

Kalix looked sympathetically at Daniel.

"Is this all because you're in love with Moonglow?"

"How did you know that?" cried Daniel, agitated.

"It's the most obvious thing in the world."

"Is it? I suppose it is. Well, maybe that was why. But it's
not just me that doesn't like Jay. Malveria really took against him.
They had an argument about astrology and then when he had the nerve to
spout some rubbish about Stonehenge she put him pretty soundly in his
place. You can't argue with Malveria about Stonehenge, her grandmother
knew the people who built it."

Daniel paused, and looked troubled.

"It all seemed funny at the time but I don't think Moonglow
was very pleased. No girl likes to see her boyfriend harassed from
every direction."

"Why are they sleeping downstairs?"

"Because Malveria accepted Moonglow's offer of a bed for the
night. Not that Moonglow actually made the offer. Malveria just said
she was tired and she much appreciated Moonglow's hospitality. Then she
disappeared up to Moonglow's room. Jay was surprised."

Daniel stood up.

"I'm actually planning to arrive at university two hours
before my first lecture, so you'll appreciate how much I don't want to
meet Moonglow right now."

Daniel crept away and soon afterward Kalix heard him going as
quietly as he could down the stairs and out of the house. She smiled.
It sounded as if last night had been fun. She was sorry she couldn't
remember it very well.

'But now they know about the laudanum,' she thought, and
became worried. 'And Moonglow will be angry at me for collapsing on her
boyfriend.' She wondered if she should follow Daniel's example and
vacate the flat for a while. Deciding it would be a good idea, she put
on her ragged coat, slung her bag over her shoulder and slipped out
silently. She had nowhere to go, but, remembering how she had enjoyed
looking at the boats, she decided to head for the river.

As Kalix walked swiftly northwards she attracted plenty of
attention, though not the sort that she'd attracted recently. Then
people had wondered who the sick, trembling girl might be. Now they
looked at her with admiration. She was still very pale, but she was
healthier, and clean. With her large dark eyes, her perfect cheekbones
and her incredibly long dark glossy hair, she looked like a teenage
model walking down the catwalk to exhibit some new collection of ragged
urban clothing. Kalix was exceptionally beautiful, the most beautiful
of the ruling family of the MacRinnalchs, who were, as everyone
acknowledged, a notably beautiful family.

111

Wary in case hunters from the Avenaris Guild were patrolling
the same area, Kalix took a different route towards the river. She
turned north east, became slightly lost, and ended up heading towards
London Bridge. It was now well into the afternoon and the rain began to
come down heavily. Kalix pulled her coat around her and put on her
sunglasses. She still enjoyed wearing shades at inappropriate times.

A hundred yards from the river, she stopped, and sniffed the
air. She could smell werewolves. Who was it? Someone whose scent she
hadn't encountered for a long time. She sniffed again. More than one
werewolf. There were too many other scents around for her to
distinguish them properly. She walked on, intrigued. As she neared
London Bridge and the scents became clearer she realised with surprise
that it was her cousin Dominil. What could she be doing here?

Kalix halted, and wondered if she should turn back. Dominil
had never tried to pursue her before but why else would she be here?
Kalix's mother must have sent her. Kalix scowled and was about to go
back when she suddenly recognised the other werewolf scents. Butix and
Delix. Kalix remembered them with more fondness that any other members
of her family. They had always been creating havoc in the castle and it
was they who'd given Kalix her first taste of whisky. Kalix was sure
that Beauty and Delicious wouldn't be in pursuit of her. 'Perhaps,' she
thought, 'They've fled from the clan and that horrible white wolf
Dominil has come to attack them.' Dominil had always treated Kalix with
contempt and Kalix could believe anything bad about her. She trotted
forward, prepared to rescue Beauty and Delicious from the evil Dominil.

Kalix found herself in a small back street full of shabby
looking premises. A builders yard, a boarded up cafe, a few empty shops
in a bad state of repair. She concealed herself behind a white van and
looked on curiously as several young men came out of a building nearby
carrying instruments. They loaded them into a car. Kalix managed to
catch a few of their words.