Werewolves in London : Part II
A huge, swollen moon rose above the treetops in Soho as I waited around the corner from the Blue O. Perfect.
“Angie.” Graeme tapped me on the shoulder and I started.
“Your situational awareness is somewhat lacking.” He meant it as constructive criticism, but he sounded like such an ass.
“Werewolves tend to make their presence known. They don’t sneak up on you and tap you on the shoulder.” I retorted.
Graeme raised his eyebrows skeptically, but didn’t reply. I took in the crew cut, leather jacket, jeans, and the revolver-sized bulge at his hip and shook my head.
“Seriously? You told me no guns.”
“For you.”
“Well this is bullshit.”
“Here.” As a concession he handed me a taser, which I stashed in my bag.
“Are we going in or not?” he grumbled, “I want eyes on Lord Basington before he makes a move.”
“Alright, but don’t confront him without me. I want to get a read on his status. If he’s not too far gone, which I seriously doubt, we can try to sedate him and medicate him. Otherwise…”
Graeme was already moving towards the door at the Blue O.
“Whoa! You think you’re going to charge in like that?”
“What?” He paused, “What do you mean?”
“Just come here for a minute.” He turned towards me distrustfully like a child who’s afraid he’s about to have his face washed.
I reached up and tousled his stiffly gelled hair, which elicited an immediate protest.
“Just stop whining, I’m almost done. I’m trying to wipe the cop off you.” I pulled a douchey-looking necklace out of my handbag and put it around his neck. “There. All Set.”
“Oh yeah, what about you? You look like you’re about to go storm The Matrix.”
I looked down at my very tasteful black skinny jeans and black leather moto jacket. Really my fashion sense was beyond reproof but to make him feel less self-conscious, I lowered the zipper on my jacket a couple inches. “There. Cleavage, all else is forgiven. Let’s go.”
We turned the corner and I could feel the bass shaking the sidewalk as EDM music burst out the doors of numerous clubs along the block. I should have charged more for this one, I thought to myself.
Thankfully, we were early enough that the line was short at the Blue O. I flashed the bouncer and electric smile and he waved us through. I headed straight to the bar, dragging Graeme by the hand.
“Vodka soda.” I screamed over the music. Graeme’s eyes bulged. “He’ll have a coke,” I added. I looked at him and shrugged, “I don’t have a gun.”
He shook his head but said nothing. Drinks in hand, we took a tour. The Blue O was a never-ending labyrinth of small alcoves with blue velvet curtains. On the main level girls twirled on poles on an elevated stage while on a DJ danced in his illuminated booth. The second and third floors consisted of wrap-around galleries that looked down onto the main floor and were serviced by a glass elevator. I scanned the galleries looking for a likely booth of raucous lads having a boys night out. Almost every group in the place fit the bill. Shit.
I turned around and saw Graeme was flirting with a waitress. He put his hand on her shoulder and smiled as she pointed up to the third level were a group of rowdies were practically hanging from the chandelier. So he can play it smooth. Good to know.
He tapped my shoulder and pointed to the same group with a slight nod. He took my arm and escorted me to the elevator.
Ensconced in our booth across the gallery from Blinky et al, we sipped our drinks and pretended to have a jolly good time. Eddie certainly was. He was nestled between a busty Blue O girl and Blinky who was already three sheets to the wind and sweating profusely. Eddie made some sort of joke and everyone laughed. Suddenly, and smoothly without anyone noticing, Eddie tipped a tiny vial into Blinky’s cocktail and stirred it with the straw.
“Did you see that?” I turned to Graeme. “Lord Storridge just dosed his cousin Blinky.”
Graeme frowned and shook his head in confusion. “What the devil is going on here?”
I frowned, thoughts flying fast. The claw marks in Eddie’s flat now this, Eddie was more involved than I had guessed. But what the hell did it mean?
In one gulp, Blinky downed his drink, he was sweating and twitching, but he hadn’t started to turn as far as I could see. Had I pegged the wrong werewolf? Maybe it was really Eddie after all. The thought made me physically ill and I turned quickly back to Graeme, green to the gills and thankful for the mood lighting.
“They’re on the move!” Graeme started up as Eddie and Blinky staggered out of the booth. Graeme grabbed my arm and hustled me to the elevator. Putting his arm around me, he ushered me in, and we faced out the glass wall looking down into the club as our targets unknowingly joined us. The smell of sweat and Eddie’s cologne assaulted my nostrils and my heart pounded furiously. In the elevator, Blinky burst into a coughing fit that sounded suspiciously like growling and I almost fainted with relief. Maybe Eddie was just protecting his cousin’s secret?
On the ground floor, Eddie and Blinky shuffled out and made a bee-line for the toilets. Hmm, not headed home, Eddie? Is that wise? We shuffled behind them, trying not to draw attention to ourselves.
Suddenly, appearing from the shadows, a tall, slim and beautiful young man, beat them to the washroom door and held it open for Eddie and Blinky. Blinky smiled and Eddie stepped back, allowing the young man to take his place as Blinky’s escort as the washroom door closed between them. Eddie turned away from the door and just as a paroxysm of disgust and hate rippled across his face he caught sight of me and our eyes locked. He flashed me a sudden smile and strode across the room in a moment.
“Angie? I thought you were making it a night in.” He embraced me and leaned in to yell in my ear over the music.
“I thought I was too, until this guy…” gesturing at Graeme. “Old friend.”
The final beat of the DJ’s set echoed through the club and suddenly we were standing in awkward silence staring at each other, the cloak of pounding bass ripped away.
Graeme extended a hand, assuming a bit more polish than usual. “Graeme Pickering.” Eddie nodded and shook Graeme’s hand. “Edward Leydon.”
A transitional track of smooth jazz filled the void and I breathed a tiny sigh of relief.
Eddie gestured in the general direction of his party on the third floor. “Well, I’ve got to get back… Angie? We still on for tomorrow?” Though still polite as ever, Eddie was vibrating with suspicion. Hopefully, he just that I was some bizarre stalker who was now obsessed with him.
I flashed him what I hoped was a disarming, but not too interested smile. “Of course — ”
A piercing howl rent the air and the three of us all started for the washroom simultaneously. The slim handsome man from earlier burst out the washroom door, a look of terror on his face.
“He’s crazy!” he shouted, as he paused just long enough belt his jeans before sprinting out the front door at full speed.
Eddie stood in the doorway, but over his shoulder I could see Blinky pacing, foaming at the mouth, and growling, but still not fully transformed.
“It’s alright.” called Eddie over his shoulder to the gathering crowd. “This happened last time he took E. I’ll take him to urgent care and get him hydrated.”
Graeme shoved Eddie into the bathroom and I crept in behind, closing it firmly against the crowd behind us.
He dropped his posh accent and reverted to MI5 speak — monotone, but authoritative. “Mr. Leydon, I think he needs to come with us. You know as well as we do he’s infected with lycanthropism. We’ll do everything we can to treat him, but he’s a danger to himself and society right now.”
Eddie’s shoulder’s wilted with relief. Blinky was kicking a stall door again and again with increasing ferocity.
Eddie sighed. “I knew we’d be found out eventually. My aunt will kill me when she finds out I haven’t protected him. We found a medicine that kept it from getting too bad, but they said he was too far gone for…”
“Eddie,” I cut in gently, “we’re going to get him help — however we can. This is the best thing for everyone.”
“Fine…” Eddie looked deflated. “Just let me help you get him out the door, he’s more docile for me than anyone else.”
I frowned, but Graeme nodded.
Eddie pulled a dog collar and leash out of his jacket pocket and put it around Blinky’s neck amid some whimpering and whining on Blinky’s part.
My eyes widened, “Really?”
“It helps sometimes,” said Eddie defensively. I pressed my lips together in grim disbelief. His whole story started to feel… off.
Graeme called operations for a car to meet us outside and gave us the plan.
“Alright, let’s go. You two go first, slowly, out the side door to the street. We’ll be right behind you. No sudden movements, no funny business. You understand?”
Eddie nodded, Blinky howled again and kicked the stall door off its hinges. It collapsed into the stall with a tremendous crash.
“Come on Graeme, he’s getting worse.”
“Alright, go out first and turn right.” Graeme ordered. Our foursome shuffled out of the bathroom awkwardly. The crowd had dispersed for the most part, but a few gawkers took in Blinky on a leash and went for the cell phones.
“Graeme,” I murmured in his ear, “if he gets loose…” He nodded. “He’s far gone — stage four,” I breathed.
“Keep moving,” Graeme growled at our captives. We made steady but slow progress for the side door. Finally, Eddie pushed it open and we stumbled into the cool, darkness of the side street.
That’s when it happened. It was so fast, I’m not even exactly sure what happened. All I know is I thought I saw Eddie prod Blinky in the ribs right before Eddie’s elbow made deliberate and vicious contact with my cheek. Suddenly, Graeme was lifted four fee off the sidewalk and thrown bodily against the wall with a sickening crunch by an enraged Blinky, who took off sprinting full speed with Eddie hanging onto the leash for dear life.
I ran to Graeme who was pale and trying to sit up.
“Dammit Eddie!” I yelled in frustration. “There’s no saving him. He’s just making it worse.”
“We’ve got to go after them.” Graeme wheezed.
“Not you. You’ve got a concussion and broken ribs. You’re not going anywhere.” I stuck the taser from Graeme in the back of my belt and put my handbag under his head like a pillow. It was fake anyway.
“I’ll go after them. They’ve probably headed for a park — Blinky wants trees and above all else, water, he probably thinks he’s dying of thirst.”
“St. James Park.” Panted Graeme. I was already on my phone searching the map of London. “Got it.” It was a few blocks away.
“Send backup as soon as you can.” He nodded feebly. I took off sprinting as fast as I could down the street.
This is Part II of “Werewolves in London.” Stay tuned for Part III. See below for the link to Part I.
I jerked awake in a strange and stuffy London flat, light streaming through a half-closed dusty, velvet curtain.medium.com
I shivered as I stepped into the gloom of St. James Park. I could feel the chill of the dew coming off the grass and my…medium.com
For another story about Angie: A Freelance Specialist in Previously-Assumed-Mythical Beings, read…
