The shelter was a short walk from the Milton T stop, buried within a tightly congested section of the Boston suburb. We stopped outside the building, which looked like a nineteenth century school building, layered brick and mortar, square, evenly spaced windows, a narrow awning up top with double doors leading in.
There were no signs outside identifying it as anything other than an unremarkable structure amidst dozens of other unremarkable structures. After the young man— his name was Daniel, come to find out, knocked on the door, it eased open, revealing a small, mousy looking woman just inside.
“Bonnie? It’s Dan. Do you remember—”
“Of course, I remember,” she whispered, her voice the epitome of kindness. “I was worried about you and your father.” She leaned out and let her gaze drift up and down the road alongside. It paused on me for a moment, then continued. “Where is your father?”
“Can we talk inside?”
“Sure. Yes. Of course.” She stepped back, held open the door, but swiftly blocked the way just after Daniel had made it inside. “I’m sorry, invitation only.”
“He’s with me, Bonnie.”
She gazed back at Daniel, then over at me again, looking at me as if trying to solve a curious puzzle.
“Is he—?”
“He’s a wizard.”
“I’m not a—”
“A wizard? Really?” Bonnie tilted her head curiously. “We don’t see many of your kind around these parts. Mostly because you usually don’t need us.”
“I’m here for Dan, that’s all. I, uhh— I won’t be staying.”
Bonnie turned toward Dan in silent inquiry and Dan nodded, gesturing for me to come in.
“It’s okay,” he said, forcing a smile. “He helped me. He knows my father.”
It was a trivial lie but seemed to do what we needed it to do. Bonnie moved away and let me in. I nodded my thanks, the woman reminding me of one of those sorts of schoolteachers who looked diminutive and unassuming but would be the first to take a ruler to your knuckles.
I wasn’t sure if teachers still took rulers to their students’ knuckles. Somehow, I didn’t think so, but the comparison still stuck. We made our way into the building, which opened up into a square-shaped entryway, blocked off with a secondary wall of windows and yet another door which led deeper into the interior. Bonnie punched a combination into an electronic lock to the right of the door and it clicked softly, allowing us access.
“This place saved our lives,” Dan said as we stepped inside, his voice echoing off the smooth walls and polished, tile floor.
“That’s what we’re here for,” Bonnie said, her voice still cautious as she studied me. “And I appreciate that he’s a friend of yours, Dan, but we typically do a little more due diligence before we just let anyone in here. There are lives at risk.”
“What is this place?” I looked around the wide corridor which led deeper into the building, various doors lining each wall. The interior of the building looked similar to the exterior, like a repurposed school, the hallway lined with classrooms.
Bonnie cleared her throat and stood in the center of the hallway, purposefully blocking entry.
“Dan, I’m going to need some reassurance.”
“My name is Gus Savage,” I said, trying to add an air of emphasis to my words. “In a previous life I was an enforcer for the Caretakers.”
Bonnie’s eyes widened for a moment, held there, then narrowed, though to her credit, she remained standing where she was.
“If you think that is reassuring, Mr. Savage, please trust me when I tell you it is not.”
“You asked who I was and I wanted to be truthful.”
Dan glowered at me as well from over Bonnie’s shoulder.
“You never told me that.” His voice was low, barely a whisper in the quiet corridor.
“Now I am. Does it change things?”
“Your kind hunted and killed mine for centuries.”
“I could say the same.”
There was a long moment of stretched, tight silence within the hallway, nobody speaking.
“You said we shouldn’t be judged on the past crimes of our species, right?” I asked.
Dan nodded.
“I served the Caretakers for a long time. I don’t anymore. I ride my own horse these days, and I have no allegiance to them. What you see is, quite simply, what you get.” Except for the whole truth about how I scorched your father’s face with a fireball, of course. That little detail I was still keeping to myself.
Bonnie and Dan exchanged a glance until she finally nodded and stepped aside, gesturing toward the hallway.
“This place is called The Underground, Mr. Savage. It’s a refuge for the supernatural. Creatures who are struggling to find their place in the human world, but, for whatever reason, don’t want to— or can’t return to their own.”
“Huh.” We walked past a pair of classrooms and I glanced through the small, rectangular windows set in each door, looking beyond, into the rooms themselves. In one, I saw a family of elves, a mother with her three children who she was teaching, holding up a textbook and gesturing to words I couldn’t see.
In the second classroom the lights were off, though I could make out a young Centaur asleep on the floor, resting on its side, its four legs splayed.
“We give them roofs over their head— food however we can. Protection.”
The other classrooms were all dark, it was quite early in the morning, and I purposefully tried not to peer too deeply inside.
“Are there other Lycan here?”
Bonnie looked uncomfortable with that particular question.
“No,” Dan answered for her. “My father and I were the only ones. Now— it’s just me.”
“You didn’t tell me what happened to him. To your father.” Bonnie touched Dan’s shoulder with a gentle hand.
“He caught up to us. The bounty hunter.”
“No.”
Dan nodded, and looked at his hands, which he’d pulled into fists. “He knocked me out. Gus— he tried to help, but— he took my father. Again.”
“I am so sorry.”
“I need to get him back. To figure out some way to get him back.”
“That’s a problem for another day,” Bonnie assured him. “Please. You look like you need some rest. Time to decompress. To heal your body and your mind.”
There was an underlying electricity in the building that I could feel, and it was focused on Bonnie. I wasn’t sure exactly who she was— or what she was— but she didn’t just run this place. I believed, very strongly, that she was supernatural herself. Even as she spoke to Daniel in her calming, monotone words, I could see the tension easing from his taut muscles, his eyelids growing heavy, his posture slackening. A set of doors stood at the end of the corridor and Bonnie approached him, gently taking one arm.
“It’s okay, Daniel. There are beds in there. Go lay down, you could use some sleep.”
The young Lycan nodded and she opened the door, gently leading him through and into the large room beyond.
“This is a good thing you’re doing.” I spoke once Bonnie shut the doors and turned back toward me.
“Is it? There are times I wonder.”
“Who else is here— what sorts of other— beings?”
“I’d prefer to not give specifics. I’m sure you understand. We deal with all manner of complex situations here in The Underground. We have full time magic users on staff, some who specialize in protection, both for the people who live here, and, yes, for the outside world. There are some situations we cannot manage, of course, but we do what we can.”
We both walked back down the corridor, making our way toward the exit once more.
“How long has this place been around?”
“A very long time. Probably longer than you think, Mr. Savage.”
“And— you’ve been running it that whole time?”
“Oh, goodness no. How old do you think I am?” She smiled, but there was a falseness to that smile. As I looked throughout the surrounding hallway and the various doors leading to numerous classrooms, I couldn’t help but think of Indigo— of the struggles she’d been through. The struggles she would no doubt soon face. It was good to know a place like this existed— just in case.
“I must admit,” Bonnie said, “I am a bit surprised to learn of your presence here.”
“You’re obviously not on social media much.”
“Don’t really have a use for it. Why?”
“It’s a long story.”
“Dan said you were a wizard, but it almost sounded like you pushed back on that description.”
“I dabble in magic, but I’m far from a wizard. I’m just— I’m just trying to get by in this world. To do the best I can.”
“Aren’t we all?”
“So, Dan’s going to be okay, here? You’re sure?”
Bonnie sighed and looked back over her shoulder. “Dan and his family have been a difficult situation for all of us. His father was— furious about what happened to his wife and children. When they first got here, it was quite a struggle to get him under control.”
“But you managed it.”
“To a degree.”
“Is there anything I can do? To help him?”
“I’m not sure. This bounty hunter he talks about— he’s a real piece of work. Don’t take this the wrong way, but from what Dan describes, he reminds me a bit of you.”
“Excuse me?” I felt a sudden stab of offense at that statement. I’d gone head-to-head with the bounty hunter and he was a real asshole. Hmmm— maybe there was something to that comparison after all.
“Like I said— don’t take it the wrong way. From the sounds of it, he’s not a full wizard either, I believe he uses some sort of enchanted weaponry. He may be an artifactor. Someone who specializes in making mystic weapons but may not have any intrinsic mystical abilities himself.”
It was an interesting idea. Artifactors appeared regularly throughout history, but I hadn’t run into very many myself throughout the years. I tried to piece together the puzzle of my battle with the bounty hunter. Maybe he wasn’t a full magic user— but there was more to him than just mystical weapons, I felt pretty certain about that.
“The biggest help you can be to Dan right now will be to try and convince him not to go after his father.”
“What? You expect him to just sit back and let his father be taken? From what Dan said, this guy is ready to sail across the Atlantic— to bring his catch to Europe so he can sell their pelts to the highest bidder.”
“I’m— not so sure about that. I think his connection with Daniel’s family is a bit more personal.”
“Oh?”
Bonnie shrugged. “I’m speaking out of turn. Once Dan feels better you can come back— have a few words with him. See if you can offer any insight.”
I nodded. I was certainly willing to try— but I was a pretty vengeful son of a bitch, I wasn’t convinced I was the best person to talk him down off that particular roof.
“Just let me know how I can help.”
“Thank you. For helping him. For— bringing him back.”
“My pleasure.” I stepped through the doors and out into the early morning light. At some point while I’d been inside, the city had awoken, traffic sounds rising to a crescendo, Boston born anew. In spite of the increased activity surrounding me, I couldn’t shake the feeling of guilt and melancholy. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw that fireball rush into the white wolf’s face, scorch its fur, sear its flesh. I saw my vision fading, the bounty hunter throwing Dan’s father over his shoulders and stalking away.
I felt like my chest was a boxing ring and two bare-knuckled brawlers were going at it. In one corner was the ingrained memory of who and what the werewolves were, the savagery and brutality I’d witnessed first-hand throughout the centuries. In the other corner was the realization that I’d helped Dan’s father get captured. That my fireball had singed his hair and his flesh and weakened him to the point where the bounty hunter could take him away.
At the end of the day, though, was that such a bad thing? The white wolf hadn’t exactly been docile— he’d been enraged and aggressive. There was still so much I didn’t know, but I couldn’t help but ask as I made my way to the sidewalk, whether or not I even wanted to.