Chapter 13

Sam grabbed a water jug and poured the water into a glass.

“Here, drink up. You must be horridly parched.”

She took the glass from him and drank. The coolness trickling into her body was the best feeling in the world. It washed away the cottonmouth and seemed to cleanse her.

When she finished the glass, she handed it back to the demon and asked, “Where the hell am I?”

“You are in a painfully charming little hütte in the Swiss Alps.”

“And what, pray tell, am I doing here?”

“Lovely little Miss Bergamot brought you here, of course.”

Sammael clapped his book shut and set it aside. “I thought you were a goner. I was worried sick! You owe her your life, you know. And I begrudgingly owe her a debt of gratitude for sparing my favorite witch.”

“How do you figure that? Last I checked, she threw me to the slaughter.”

Her eyes widened as she recollected the events of that night.

“And she injected with that damn virus!”

Sam gave her a confused look.

Remembering that Sam wasn’t always omniscient, though she often assumed he was, she explained everything to him, starting from the beginning. When she finished her story, Sam shook his head and remarked, “Really got to hand it to them for their ingenuity.”

Rachel scowled. He cleared his throat. “… Their very unscrupulous ingenuity,” he corrected.

“In any case, if it’s true that they had turned you into a werewolf, then I should be able to smell it on you. So, tell me, why don’t I smell werewolf on you?”

“What do you mean you don’t smell werewolf on me? They injected the virus into me. I should know. I was there.”

Sam held up his hands, “Not saying you’re lying, darling, but if it’s true then I should be able to smell it. That’s all. Now, there’s an easy way to know that they did for sure.”

“You heard me. If you are a werewolf, you ought to be able to turn into one.”

Rachel frowned. “I… I don’t know that I can.”

“So, you’re not a werewolf.”

“Hold on, don’t I need a full moon or something?”

Sam shook his head. “That’s a myth. I’ve met plenty of werewolves. They can all turn into one at will. Should be as easy as blinking your eyes. Try… thinking about it really hard?”

Rachel shut her eyes and tried. She gave it a concerted effort before shaking her head.

“Then that settles it. Not a werewolf.”

Sam stood. He fixed his suit. A hat appeared in his hand. A Tyrolean-style felt hat with a feather sticking up from one side.

“This place is a holy sanctuary so I really shouldn’t be caught lurking here.”

“Hold on just a tick, you bastard.”

Sam huffed, a hurt expression on his face.

“Darling, whatever have I done?”

“Sabine Fischer counts,” Rachel said.

“Sabine who?” Sam replied.

“Don’t play dumb, Sammael. You know as much as I do that she sinned worthy of damnation. She confessed. I marked her. And she died. She counts, Sam.”

Sam huffed. He stamped his feet. “Damn, I can’t get anything past you, can I?”

Rachel crossed her arms.

Sam sucked air through his teeth. “Yes, yes, she counts! And she was a particularly lucrative soul too. Brimming with sin.”

“Then I suppose you would like to know the whereabouts of your sister’s killer,” he answered begrudgingly.

Sam sat back down. He rested his hands in his lap. He sighed.

“His name is Paul Francis Cunningham. He’s from where you’re from. A Medford man. A mean, alcoholic vagrant currently working as a hand at a ranch in Omaha. Your sister was not his first victim, nor was she his last. A genuinely terrible man to say the least. No one would miss him should he disappear.”

Rachel sighed. Her face turned down.

Sam gave her a pitying smile. “Finally knowing isn’t what it’s all cracked up to be, is it?

“Closure is bittersweet, I know. No matter what you do, you can’t bring her back. I’m truly sorry, my dear.”

“Are you?” Rachel responded sourly.

Sam held his hands to his chest. “Of course, I am! Why would I lie about that? Oh alright, fine! I really don’t give a rat’s ass. Can you blame me? I’m a demon for hell’s sake! But I will concede that you’ve been nothing but stellar as my soul hunter, so if not compassion, I can show you gratitude. Here:”

He reached behind him and pulled out of thin air, her sister’s polio cane. He laid it gently on her lap. “I fetched that for you. Try not to lose it again.”

She gripped the cane tightly and smiled at the demon.

“Thank you,” she said.

Sam bowed his head. “You’re very welcome. Now before I disappear from your life for good, is there anything else you’d like from me? Another deal, perhaps?”

Rachel shook her head. “Not a chance, Sam.”

Then her face tightened into a pensive frown. “But I do have a question.”

“Sabine Fischer said I was the descendant of a Watcher. That I’m… Nephilim. Is that true?”

Sam scratched his chin. “Hmm… well I wouldn’t have the slightest idea, to tell you the truth. You do smell particularly demonic, but I think that’s more to do with your needing a shower.”

“She said it was the source of my power. She said it was why I was able to stay in Limbo for so long without losing my soul.”

“Hmm. Well, that’s utter bullshit, I’m afraid.”

Rachel cocked her head. “How do you figure?”

“Rachel, you could be descended from an all-mighty Watcher, or a cane toad for all it matters. Your blood has no bearing whatsoever on your soul’s prodigious ability to withstand arcanic energy. Don’t get me wrong, you are exceptional, just not for any nonsense to do with Watchers and Nephilim or any other nonsense you silly mortals can come up with.”

“Then what does it have to do with?”

Sam rapped his knuckles on her cane. “As long as you carry Emily in your soul, she will do everything in her power to protect it. She’s your guardian angel. As long as you never forget her, your soul will always have the capacity to heal.”

Rachel looked down at the cane. She tightened her hold on it. She thought of Emily and felt warmth in her heart. Her eyes welled up with tears.  Her eyes were fiery with tears. She suspected that for the first time, Sam was being genuine.

‘You’re most welcome.”

He stood, then added, “I smell bergamot, which means I should be hitting the dusty trail.”

He stuck his hand out. Rachel shook it. 

“I’d be remiss if I didn’t say, I would relish any opportunity to work with you again. So, if something comes up, please don’t hesitate to call.”

He tipped his Tyrolean mountain hat, then disappeared with a sulfurous crackle. Just then, the door came open, and in came Isolde/Leah, a sheepish look on her face, her hands clasped tightly together, without any words to say.

After a long, awkward silence, and wanting to say something to convey that the look of guilt was completely warranted, Rachel said,

“Yes,” Leah answered.

“You betrayed my trust.”

“You infected me!” Rachel growled.

Leah shook her head. “That I didn’t do.”

“Then what did you give me?”

“A potent sedative. A bit too potent, perhaps, but you’re alive. I couldn’t in good conscience bring myself to turn you, but I also couldn’t have you awake. I was afraid you’d be a liability.”

“You were afraid I’d try to stop your massacre.”

“You already know the reason.”

“Isolde’s vengeance. She never forgave me for the part I played. How could she? I did unforgivable things. Horrible things. But she gave me a chance to repent. She gave me her body. She let me use it as a home for my soul on the condition that I exact revenge. So that’s what I did. I exacted revenge for her.”

“And hurt others in the process,” Rachel replied bitterly, then a terror spiked her right through the heart as she remembered Schmidt.

“Heinrich! What happened to him? Where is he?”

Leah offered a saddened smile. “He’s safe. A casualty of my war, perhaps, but safe. He’s in another room. He’ll remain here with us, and we’ll care for him.”

Rachel shook her head despondently. “He was a good man. A good soul.”

“He had blood on his hand, just like the rest of us,” Leah replied. Rachel frowned at her. Leah averted her eyes to the ground. “He would have done what I’ve done,” she said.

It was an empty statement, and by the way, Leah said it, she knew it was an empty statement. But what else could she have said? What words were better? After so much blood, words tend to lose their meaning anyway.

Rachel did not respond. There was nothing she could say. All she could do really, was let the pit of remorse fill her and ponder it for a while.

She looked out the window and saw the mountains and saw a glimmer of hope there. This was a nice place. The sunlight felt nice on her face, and the air was fresh. So, she tried focusing her mind on that instead.

“Where are we?” Rachel asked.

Isolde offered her a hand. “Come, let me show you.”

Rachel grabbed her hand and pulled herself out of bed with it. They went out to the sunny terrace at the front of the hütte where a magnificent vista took Rachel’s breath away. All around them were tall mountains with snowy peaks sparkling white against the blue glow of a vast clear sky. Below them was a snow-mottled pasture surrounded by tall dark spruce, and beech trees with fiery orange canopies. There were people in the field, some performing chores, others out for a stroll along the fence that marked the perimeter of the pasture.

“All werewolves,” Isolde said. “Survivors. This place is our haven.”

“Are they happy here?”

Leah put on a smile that quickly melted back into sadness.

“Don’t let our idyllic surroundings fool you, Rachel. They still carry deep wounds. They’re still haunted by their past.”

“You’re still here, which means you’re haunted by your promise to Isolde,” Rachel said. “Some of the scientists remain. They’re in hiding.”

“That’s right. I will eliminate them all. That was my promise.”

Leah’s eyes glimmered. It was the sunlight that made her eyes glimmer, but it might as well have been darkness. She cast her eyes to the distant mountains, cupping her hand over her brow to shield against the brightness. Rachel wondered how she could have missed it before, but it was clear as day now, the obsessive rage in her eyes. Leah’s soul was filled with darkness. A darkness as perennial as shadow on the moon.

If there was anything that Rachel could sympathize with, it was that darkness. A kindred spirit indeed. She weaved her hand into Leah’s and squeezed. 

“I’m with you,” she said.

Leah squeezed back. She looked into Rachel’s eyes, and, without expression, said,

“Have you ever been to Argentina? I hear the weather is lovely this time of year.”

Thank you so much for reading my Halloween Tale. I hope you enjoyed it, flaws and all. Let me know your thoughts in the comments below or by sending me a message! Comments of all sorts are welcome, especially nice comments 😛 but also criticisms, especially if they help me become a better writer!

Here are some songs I like:

The Unforgiven – Metallica

Everything Dies – Type O Negative

Spider – System of a Down

I Miss You – Incubus

Hunted Down – Soundgarden

Everybody’s Fool – Evanescence

The Hollow – A Perfect Circle

Four Seasons: Winter – Vivaldi