They spent the next several days running through the course and practicing their shooting and teamwork. As Luke expected, Pablo and Delilah learned quickly and were soon coordinating well with the more experienced members of their leadership squad. Sam had joined them while Tony and a werewolf Luke didn’t know managed the kitchen. Instead of a shotgun, Sam used an odd-looking bow Luke had acquired for her.
Pablo pointed at the bow the first time she’d joined them. “What kind of bow is that? I’ve seen Sam shoot a Japanese bamboo bow, but not a small, curvy guy like that.”
“It’s a horse bow—”
“A horse bow?” Pablo interrupted.
“Yeah, for horse archers. It’s a recurve bow patterned off the bows that steppes archers used, like the Scythians, Sarmatians, and the Mongols. And while the yumi is an exceptional war bow, Sam and I figured a shorter, more compact bow would work better for this circumstance. She’ll be able to provide silence and medium range sniping.”
Sam was currently bullseyeing targets at the shooting range, getting used to the draw and action of the bow. Luke had acquired a heavier than normal draw for the bow since it would have a werewolf's arm behind it. It would give Sam extra power and distance.
Pieter walked over and watched her for a few moments. “How far can she shoot with that antique?”
Despite seeming in a zone, Sam must have heard him. She turned, aimed toward the gauntlet, and bullseyed a dummy about two-hundred and fifty yards away before returning to her target practice.
Pieter’s eyebrows shot up as his jaw dropped. “Damn.”
Pablo chuckled. “That answer your question, waffleboy?”
The normally affable and easy-going Pablo had taken a dislike to Pieter since the first time they’d met. It had solidified when Luke had retreated into his basement. Luke had never seen his friend quite that snarky with anyone before; Pablo got along with everyone. Luke could see why Pieter might rub Pablo the wrong way. The Belgian had a quiet confidence that dipped a bit too far into arrogance for Pablo’s taste. His arrogance rubbed Luke and Delilah a bit raw at times as well, but they both liked the man. After several weeks of spending time together, Pablo’s dislike had settled into a competitive rivalry complete with ribbing. Waffleboy was his favorite at the moment.
Luke suspected his friend was a bit jealous of Pieter’s accomplishments and his friendship with Luke. The friendly rivalry between Luke’s two friends seemed to push both toward better performance. Plus, it gave someone besides Luke for Delilah to roll her eyes at, which was a bonus in Luke’s book. He’d seen this sort of thing plenty of times and hoped it would settle out into friendship, but he’d accept an awkward alliance for now. Besides, eventually Pieter would fly home after this mission and rejoin his own pack.
Luke had watched everyone, sizing up skills and compatibility, and was beginning to see some very good chemistry between certain people. Those people he paired into teams and let them run the gauntlet. No matter what he changed or how difficult he made it, everyone was getting crisp and professional.
The last day, he added in the final element.
As they gathered post breakfast, the team assembled around the table Luke was standing behind. He removed the cloth covering it.
Pablo shook his head. “Dude, you can just show us without all the production.”
“Allow me my small joys, Pablo,” Luke replied airily.
Lined up neat as soldiers were special stakes. Each was rounded with a fire-hardened point and attached to an odd-looking dagger hilt. Luke picked up his shotgun and one of the daggers.
“I figured since we had bayonet lugs on these things, we might as well do this right.” He fixed the bayonet to the end of his shotgun. “Grab one and follow me.”
He walked toward the target range which had a new addition, a sand-filled bag affixed to a square frame that suspended the bag over the ground about at the height of a human’s chest. He pulled down his ear protection and waited for everyone else to follow suit. He fired a full load of shells into the range. Then he pivoted and violently rammed the bayonet into the spot where a heart would be. He turned and faced everyone.
Luke lifted his ear protection from his left ear. “I thought that might be a nice option if you were in between reloads and a vamp got too close. I’ll have three for each of you in case of breakage. They’re not quite as sturdy as a steel bayonet.”
The team attached the bayonets to the end of their guns. One by one, they stepped up to the range to fire at their targets before stabbing the dummy. A couple got in an extra poke or two. Once they all made it through, Luke had them gear up with their ammo belts and extra bayonets.
Luke stood in the entrance to the gauntlet and faced the group. “You’ve all done a great job. I appreciate your attention and efforts. You’ve really come together in a short amount of time, and you’re looking damned sharp. Your hard work is going to keep everyone safe and make sure we complete this mission successfully.
“Since you’ve done so well, I thought we’d have some fun and add a bit of competition. Overnight, we’ve had a crew rearrange the gauntlet. Pieter and I will go through first while you wait here. We’ll establish the time to beat. Then the rest of you will go in pair by pair and see if you can beat us. We’ve even got prizes.”
The team cheered and shit-talked each other a bit.
“First prize, generously donated by Pablo, is a night out at the Howling Moon, all expenses paid, and a gift certificate to the Wonder Ballroom for a show. Second prize was donated by Tony. He’ll come to your home and make you and your family dinner. Third prize—”
“A set of steak knives!” someone interrupted.
“Third prize was ‘you’re fired.’ Steak knives were second place. If you’re going to interrupt, at least get the joke right,” Archie said.
“Thanks, Archie. Anywho, third prize is a gift certificate to Kenton Overlook Coffee Shop.” Luke had stopped in, partially to pick up the gift certificate, and partly as an excuse to talk to Heather. “And, to spice it up, if anyone can beat Pieter’s and my time, you’ll get one story of my life from the time period of your choice.”
That got people murmuring in interest. Luke’s life was a mystery, even to Pablo and Delilah. He kept his life a closed book except for a few tantalizing snippets. The rest of the pack knew how old Luke was and a little about his origins in the legions of Rome, but speculation about all he’d experienced in nearly two thousand years was a hot topic for people who loved to gossip about the new supernatural associating with the pack.
“There are a few spotters making sure everyone hits their targets. There are shooting and bayonet targets. We’ll run it again after dark. Five second penalty for a miss. Combined lowest scores wins. Any questions?”
Everyone shook their heads. People shuffled from foot to foot and looked around at their friends and competitors.
“You ready, Pieter?”
“Ja, boss. Let’s do it.” He raised his hand for a high five which Luke obliged.
They proceeded down the entrance of the gauntlet, Luke in the lead and Pieter behind, gun ready but barrel pointed safely at the ground. The first several challenges went smoothly, each nailing their targets on their turns and the exchanges and reloads going quickly without any time burned. It wasn’t until near the end they encountered their first problem.
Luke had finished his round and was working another round of shells into his shotgun when Pieter called out, “Fuck, broke my bayonet.”
“Got it.” Luke shoved the last shell into the magazine and crept up on Pieter’s right shoulder. The next couple stops were shots, which Pieter hit. The next set however featured the bayonet. Pieter fired his last round and dropped back, letting Luke jump forward and stab the bayonet target before he moved onto their final set.
Pieter loaded his shotgun double time and swapped out his bayonets just in time to catch his last round of shots. They crossed the line painted in the grass and someone yelled, “Time!”
Pieter exhaled sharply. “Thought our time was fucked there for a minute when my bayonet broke off. Thanks for picking up that one for me.”
“No problem. Great job on the reload and swap. That kept us right on time. I think that’ll give the others something to aim for.” He patted his Belgian friend on the back. “Let’s get our time.”
They jogged around the gauntlet back to the start where Tony was standing with a clip board and a stopwatch.
“Two minutes and seventeen seconds is the time to beat,” Tony called out. The waiting competitors clapped and whistled, a few taunting how bad they were going to beat the time.
While they’d been working their way through, Tony had filled a hat with names.
“Luke, draw a name.” Tony turned and addressed the rest of the competitors, “Whoever Luke draws, goes next.”
Luke reached in and drew a piece of paper. “Archie and Jung-sook.”
“Archie and Jung-sook, you’re up. As soon as you cross the threshold, your timer starts,” Tony instructed.
Archie and Jung-sook walked toward the entrance of the gauntlet, nodded at each other, then burst across the threshold and disappeared around a corner. A few minutes later, the cry of “time” from the end of the maze prompted Tony to click his stopwatch and record the time. One by one, the rest of the teams had their names drawn so they could make their run. So far, Luke’s story looked safe. The first run finished, the times were read out and ranked for all to hear.
It was time for a break before the night runs.
Luke wanted to ensure that everyone felt comfortable in both conditions. They intended to strike during the day when the vamps would be out of commission, but Luke believed in over preparation. Better to plan and train and not need it than to be caught with his pants down. Besides, the training would always be useful for later operations.
The team secured their weapons before heading into the house to relax. They chatted and joked with each other, the camaraderie built over the last several days really shining through as they saw the end of their training in sight.
Delilah was first through the door. “Oh my god, what is that smell?”
Tony, who’d headed inside when the trainees were securing their shotguns, popped his head out of the kitchen, a towel in his hands. “You’re in luck tonight. Pablo’s tia is making dinner. We’re having a Mexican feast after your last run, and Pablo brought a couple kegs from the pub. Once you’re cleaned up, there are nibbles in the dining room to tide you over until tonight.”
Pieter looked skeptical.
“This is the real deal, not the pale imitation stuff you get in Europe,” Luke reassured his friend.
Pablo, who’d overheard them talking, asked, “No good Mexican food in Europe?”
“Not that I’ve found,” Luke replied. “I’m sure there has to be one restaurant somewhere, but I’ve yet to locate it.”
Pieter nodded in agreement with Luke’s assessment. “I’m genuinely excited. Is your tia a good cook?”
“Exceptional,” Pablo replied. “She’s been teaching Tony since I moved her and my nephew up here.”
“Wouldn’t he be your cousin?” Luke asked.
“Technically, he’s my nephew many times removed. She’d be my niece, but since she’s older than me in appearance, she prefers for me to call her ‘tia.’ It makes her happy. It took her a long time to get used to the werewolf thing and the gay thing.”
“Ah, the werewolves’ dilemma. I understand. She got used to both?” Pieter asked.
“Yeah. You’ve met some of the crew here. You’ve seen how welcoming everyone is. Once you enter the pack’s protection, you’re family. Especially if you’re already family. She’s a pushover, though. All it took was Tony asking her to teach him how to cook some authentic dishes, and she became his tia too.”
Pieter nodded. “I’m continually impressed with your pack. It’s honestly one of the best run ones I’ve seen.”
Pablo smiled broadly. “Thanks. Holly will be happy to hear it. It’s her creation, and she’s the driving force behind it.”
“I can’t wait to meet your aunt and try her food. They both sound wonderful.”
That sealed it for Pablo. He beamed at the compliments and the sincerity in Pieter’s voice. He put his hand on Pieter’s upper back and directed him toward the dining room. “If my nose isn’t betraying me, you can try some of her cooking right now. I smell taco fixings. You have to try her al pastor.”
Luke smiled seeing his friends finally break down the barrier that had separated them. Also, he’d had Pablo’s tia’s cooking before, and he was excited to dive into a few tacos. And if he knew Maria, there’d be fresh salsa and chips to go with them. His trek into the dining room was halted when Tony cut him off carrying a large stone bowl of guacamole.
“Excuse me, Luke, cutting through.”
Luke grabbed a plate and dished up before joining his friends for some much-needed refreshment. He wasn’t feeling chatty, but he enjoyed the give and take of those around him. The camaraderie of being part of a team on a mission warmed him, and a relaxed smile spread across his face.
The night runs went well for everyone, although Tony was keeping all the times and deductions secret. He wanted to announce everything after dinner to add to the evening’s festivities.
Everyone was anxious to get to the prizes, but nobody wanted to rush through Maria and Tony’s enchilada feast. Her chicken mole was particularly in demand. Beers were flowing, and people ate way more than they normally would because the food was so amazing, and there wasn’t going to be strenuous activity in the morning. Luke basked in the laughter of his friends and comrades. Training together was for more than just learning about the weapons and mission; it bound them into a team. Even though most of the people at the table were pack, they hadn’t worked together at a serious task before. The familiarity had made the initial camaraderie easy and pushed them in friendly competition, deepening their bond over a shared purpose judged vital to the safety and interest of the pack.
* * *
After everyone had stuffed themselves with enchiladas, they retired to the large sitting room. Tony had handed out the prizes, Archie and Jung-sook taking first place. Now, it was time to relax. No one had bested Luke and Pieter’s time, but despite that, people kept trying to talk Luke into telling them a tale of historical Luke.
As Luke walked through the sitting room, he raised his arms to gather everyone’s attention. “I know you all want a story from my past, but would you settle for a tale about the origin of werewolves?”
The room was dead silent, the only sound the crackling of fire in the large fireplace along one wall.
Luke looked around, gauging interest and seeing confused and shocked looks. “Is that a story you all know?” He had no idea what lore was maintained in the packs throughout time.
He knew human history was obscured through the mists of time as things were lost or covered up. He’d figured something out of the primordial past might be lost, even among the long-lived werewolves.
Sam was the first to speak up. “You actually know the origin of the werewolves? No one knows where we come from. We kind of just thought we’d always existed.”
There were several nods from around the room.
“If you’d like to hear the tale as it was told to me, I can recite it to you. It was an old tale long before I was born and told to me from one who knew its details. It’s tied up in the creation of vampires; that’s why it was relayed to me.”
“I know I’d like to hear it,” Pablo spoke up, several people agreeing with him.
“It’s an ancient tale that involve gods unknown in the west and long forgotten in their own homes, although it involves the dark entity of Zoroastrianism, Ahriman, the evil counterpart to Ahura Mazda. There are still some active Zoroastrians left in the world spread out in India, Iran, and the US, though not many. I guess I’d peripherally fall into their numbers as an agent of Mithras, but that’s neither here nor there.”
Luke stroked his beard as he thought. “Let me see… I’m going to have to translate this on the fly—”
Sam held her hand up, signaling for Luke to hold up. “Luke, sorry to interrupt you, but let’s take a quick minute to let everyone get drinks and rearrange the furniture so we can listen properly. Luke, take a chair and set it by the fire. Let’s do this right.”
“Need a refill buddy?” Pablo asked.
“Yeah. I’ll take another beer and a glass of whiskey if you don’t mind?”
Luke picked up an armchair and set it next to the fire, but not blocking it so he could look out over the room. The werewolves arranged the chairs and couches so they were all facing Luke, radiating out into the room. Satisfied with the seating, they filed into the kitchen to top up their beverages of choice.
Sam looked around the room, waiting for the last people to get seated. “OK, Luke. I think we’re ready.”
Luke nodded, clearing his throat. “This story involves some Indo-Iranian gods—old gods—and comes out of the northern Caucus Mountains and southern steppes of what’s now Ukraine and Russia. Let’s see, where to begin…”
Luke dug up the memory of the story being relayed to him—the images he was shown and the story accompanying it. As he dusted the memory off, remembering how it was given to him, it felt more immersive any virtual reality could mimic. He’d seen it alongside Selene, the moon goddess, as if were there with her when the events happened.
“Ahriman, seeking to supplant Ahura Mazda, sought confederates in order to gain more power to destroy all that Ahura Mazda had created. Traveling to the north, to the wide-open spaces of the steppes, Ahriman came upon a lower deity named Saubarag who claimed the darkness as his dominion. Among his own pantheon he was known as a thief and a liar. He was the god of the darkness, sometimes called the ‘Black Rider.’ Speaking honeyed words of destruction into Saubarag’s ears, Ahriman wooed him to his cause, promising to bind his destructiveness to Saubarag’s darkness.
“Together, they sought to create a new race of beings to worship them, and in that worship, grow their power so they could challenge their enemies, Ahura Mazda and Tabiti, respectively. Saubarag, lord of the darkness, knew humans feared the wolf and associated it with his domain, using the fires of Tabiti to protect themselves from the wolves. Through Saubarag, Ahriman searched for the lord of wolves, Tutyr.
“Tutyr loved the wolf, the fierce hunter of the steppes, wily and cunning, fierce and loyal, strong in numbers. It saddened him that the humans feared his beloved wolf. When Saubarag approached him with an idea that would birth a new race that would bring man and wolf together, he acquiesced and offered a few of his children, the Aralezner, to use in his efforts. An Aralez was a powerful creature that could take on the form of a wolf or a large dog resembling an Armenian Gampr or a wolf. Some believed they were winged, strong in the magic of Tutyr and their pantheon, or even the oldest of gods who predated anthropomorphic deities. Though, their greatest gift was the gift of resurrection.”
Luke paused to let that sink in as his friends leaned over to whisper to each other. Others stared back at Luke with wide eyes.
“Although Tutyr, having run with and as a wolf, feared not the darkness, he knew Saubarag was often not all he seemed as he used the darkness to shield his thievery and clandestine machinations. To counter the baser aspects of Saubarag, Tutyr selected the noblest of his Aralez who could resurrect wounded warriors through licking their wounds.
“Hiding their deed, Saubarag and Ahriman selected the darkest night of the month when not even the glow of the moon could shed light on the evil they planned. With their combined powers, Saubarag and Ahriman forced together the Aralezner with humans to create a new creature, a hybrid of the two, a wolf-man. The process was painful to the new creature and created a being of rage.
“The wolf-men, in their pain-addled fury, attacked a small band of wandering nomads and savaged them. Most died from the ferocity of the attack, but those who didn’t became wolf-people on the first dark night of the month before the birth of the new moon. The power of Aralez’s resurrection became an infection for the wounded.”
The whispering turned a bit louder.
“Hey, let’s keep it down, please,” Pablo said over the murmuring. When the audience quieted, Pablo nodded at Luke.
“Tutyr’s caution was rewarded. The Dark Rider had come to him alone, keeping his confederate a secret in order to gain Tutyr’s acquiescence. But Tutyr chose his Aralez well. Within those he’d sent, he’d selected the ones with the truest spirit of his offspring with the wolves. Within most of the wolf-people, the independence and free spirit of the steppes bred true.”
Luke took a sip of his whiskey, letting the burn linger. The crowd hung rapt on his story, eager eyes waiting for him to continue.
“With the rage of the forced transformation waning, some of the wolf-people looked at the destruction they’d committed and wept at the cruelty of it. They rebelled against Saubarag and fled, leaving behind those of their new kind who preferred the destruction.
“One night, on the eve of the full moon, Selene, the Greek goddess of the moon, heard the lamentations of the wolf-people as she drove her silver chariot of moonlight across the night sky. She took pity and approached them. The wolf-people begged for her protection in exchange for their worship.
“Selene heard the pleas and went to Artemis, whose domain is creatures of the wild and hunters and brought the wolf-people’s offer to her. Together, they decided to accept the worship of the wolf-people. Both Artemis and Selene returned the next night, and in the light of the full moon, they accepted the wolf-people under their protection. But the goddesses were wise, and their blessing bestowed a weakness on the wolf-people.”
Pablo raised his hand like he was asking a question in school. “Wait. How did they go from one set of gods to another? Aren’t those pantheons from different regions?”
“That area of the world isn’t that big, and people will always travel to trade and explore. Plus, the Greeks sent out colonists throughout the Mediterranean and the Black Sea. And just as the people mingled, so did their gods.”
“But wouldn’t they be loyal to their own gods?” Archie asked.
Luke chuckled. “No. Pagans, especially ancient pagans, were a bit more ecumenical. Since gods often had overlap in duties, it was easy for worshipers to swap names or meld them for their purposes.”
“Ah,” Archie said.
Luke looked around the room to see if anyone else had questions before continuing. “Selene and Artemis, in consultation, decided to make the wolf-people vulnerable to silver, a substance both goddesses favored. Artemis, goddess of the hunt, often used a bow of silver when she set aside her bow of gold. Selene’s chariot was made of silver and from it she cast moonlight as she rode across the night sky.
“The wolf-people loved their new goddesses and respected the dominion of silver. In honor of the goddesses, the wolf-people would transform to wolves on the night of the full moon to worship their divine protectors.”
Luke gestured around the room. “And thus, the wolf-people have prospered and mastered their wolfish magics.”
Luke hadn’t been keeping eye contact with his audience, staring at a point in the distance as he told the story. When he looked around, everyone’s gaze was focused on him, yet they said nothing. When a log popped behind him, he jumped slightly in his chair. The chair, which had been comfortable, now made Luke squirm under the intense gaze of the room full of werewolves.
Pieter broke the silence, asking the question many were probably thinking, “Is that all true?”
Luke shrugged. “As far as I’m aware. The story wasn’t told to me by someone who had an agenda with werewolves, but as a piece of the tale about the origin of vampires.”
“And who told you?” Pieter asked.
“Selene. In the mountains of Armenia nineteen hundred years ago. When Mithras took me and made me into his weapon against the vampires.”
Pablo looked stunned. “You knew a god?”
“Yeah, a few. How do you think I’ve lived this long? All my equipment was enchanted by Mithras. I was recreated by him.”
The room was filled with skeptical looks. Most had grown up in a western Christian world, some in Jewish or Muslim traditions and few who’d probably grown up in Buddhism or the various faiths found across Asia. Mithras was more an artifact of history, although he made some appearances in the Vedic aspects of Brahmanism and Hinduism as well as some forms of Buddhism. To his knowledge, Luke was the last true adherent of Mithraism as he learned it from the soldiers’ cult of the Roman elites and legions. Although he hadn’t practiced any aspects of the faith in a while, not exactly feeling loyal to the deity who’d invested Luke with his powers and long life. There was some fine print on the contract that Mithras had failed to mention to him nearly two thousand years ago.
Most of the people in the room hadn’t seen Luke fighting vampires. They hadn’t witnessed his strength and speed in combat or experienced the magic of his rudis. There was a good deal of room for skepticism in a world ruled by technology and science, even if those in the room were themselves supernatural creatures.
Sam stood up. “Hey, Luke. Thanks for the story. When we have more time, I’d like to sit you down with our pack historian, if you’re willing.”
“I can do that.”
She looked around the room, catching everyone’s attention. “I hope you all realize what a rare glimpse into our own stories Luke has been generous enough to give us. We might be the first wolves in centuries to know this.”
“We’ve never heard anything of this in our pack,” Pieter said, adding the weight of his European pack to Sam. “My father is nearly five hundred years old and knows a lot of werewolf lore. I’m sure he’ll be delighted to add this to his collection of knowledge.
Sam yawned. “Well, I think it’s time to wrap it up for the night. Luke, any last words?”
Luke stood up. “Everyone, I just want to thank you all for putting so much hard work in. Tomorrow afternoon, the rest of our teams will arrive and we’ll run them through some basic training in the gauntlet so they know the conditions. You’ll be in charge of training your folks on the M12s so they can take over if needed. I’ll have a schedule up tomorrow morning so you’ll know when your turns on the range will be. Sleep well.”
The wolves stood and filed out with a range of expressions on their face from skeptical to neutral to troubled. He didn’t know if he’d challenged anyone’s knowledge of the world, but he hoped they’d get something out of the tale about the spirit of werewolves and how they evolved out of darkness into the light through their own free will and determination.
The next few days would be long as they prepped the teams for the assault on the freighter. As each person walked past him, he wondered how many would come home after, and who’d meet their end fighting against the enemies of humanity and werewolfkind.