CHAPTER 51: HIDE'N'SEEK

Calleigh had managed, with a little help from her father, to slip through the narrow opening, therefore finding herself in the adjacent toilet. She knew the only hope to save her father was to distract the werewolves, even if she wasn't sure a little stunt on her part would not end with them both killed. Then, she'd heard the comment about her perfume.

She noiselessly searched her bag for the little phial she carried with her wherever she went, her movements clumsy due to panic. When she wrapped her fingers around the small object, her heart made a little jump of joy.

As quietly as she could, she removed her high heeled shoes, discarding them along with her bag; she couldn't afford to be slowed down, she needed all the sprint she could muster.

The door was slightly ajar. She peeked outside; from her position, she couldn't see the two werewolves, meaning they couldn't see her; fervently hoping it wouldn't screech, she pushed the door open just enough for her slim frame to slip through it, there was no telling when a crack would betray her.

She reached the corridor just as his father started screaming in pain; she froze, but only for a fraction of second. She resumed her run, all the while spraying the perfume behind her back.

I'll need to cover my tracks at some point, she reasoned within herself, dropping the phial she was holding in her hand in a trashcan. The kitchen! Lots of different smells to cover mine!, she realized. She knew the restaurant well, it was a favorite of her father, so she made for the kitchen without hesitation; luckily for her, the place was in the back of the building, where very probably the werewolves had not gone yet.

*

Flavia and Tim were at his place, kissing like there was no tomorrow; just as the young man was starting to undress his companion, her phone started ringing.

-Damn!-, they swore simultaneously. She reached for the offending device, already impatient to end the communication.

-It's Flavia. -, she said without preamble.

-Flavia, it's Horatio. Listen well, Calleigh's in trouble.

-Shit!-, the exclamation left her lips without her even realizing it. She tensed immediately, sitting straight against the back of the couch; Tim looked at her curiously, trying to read her expression.

-She was at a restaurant with her father when werewolves attacked. She hid and managed to call me; I'm going there immediately, you call for help then take all the weapons you can, we'll meet there. I'll enter as soon as I arrive, this way witnesses will not make assumptions. -, her brother explained in a rush before giving her the instructions to reach the place.

-Who should I call?-, the girl demanded before Horatio had a chance to close the communication.

-Whomever you feel like won't be an obstacle, now or later. –

The line went dead.

*

She called Tripp, handing him the task of calling for help, then briefly explained the situation to Tim. That went along the lines of "my brother is a werewolf, other werewolves have been after him since the first attack and now they've thought about getting at him through Calleigh", to which Tim responded surprisingly well.

-I need my gun. –, he stated seriously.

-Forget it, it'll only tickle them. I've got weapons at home, we'll go there. -, Flavia replied, grabbing his hand and dragging him outside. –You drive, I'm too nervous. And go fast!-

*

-Daggers?-, Tim eyed the shiny weapons suspiciously, they looked so damn small…

-Hey, silver costs! Give me two, take the others. -, Flavia replied, securing one to her left arm and the other to her right leg. She lifted the mattress of her bed, retrieving a longer knife, similar to a machete, but thinner; she secured that behind her back, hiding it with her long braid.

Still eyeing her uneasily, Tim asked: -Nothing more… powerful?-

-Guns in the top drawer of the nightstand…-, she replied absentmindedly, rummaging through her wardrobe. From under a pile of folded T-shirts and jeans, she extracted what she was looking for.

-A machine gun? Now that's what I was talking about. I won't ask you how you came across it…-

-Smart boy. Give me the guns, you'll take this baby. Now, let's go. I want werewolf hamburger. –

*

Calleigh was currently hiding in a cupboard, among plastic containers. Spices, just what she was looking for. She had opened several bottles, covering herself in mint leaves, rosemary, thyme, sage, even onion and garlic. She hoped that would be enough to cover the scent of vanilla…

Her first instinct, upon entering the kitchen, had been finding a weapon; easily enough, she had found a couple of big meat knives, but she hadn't stopped there: remembering the spectacular flambé meat she had tasted in that very restaurant, she had searched the room for alcohol and a lighter of some sort. Once she had been satisfied, she had started thinking about hiding.

She had been waiting for something to happen for less than ten minutes, but it felt like ages to her, punctuated by loud crashes, screams and small explosions.

It was when those very sounds began coming her way that she started holding her breath, praying Horatio would come soon.

From her dark hiding spot, her hearing sharpened, she could make out three different wolves entering the room. Crap, a couple I could have managed… maybe.

All of a sudden, dishes and cutlery and glasses and pans were flying everywhere, or so it seemed to her; the sharp sounds of objects breaking almost made her shout in alarm, but her hand promptly flew to her mouth, preventing a scream.

She screamed, however, went the door of the cupboard was thrown open.

Moving on impulse, she sprayed the muzzle of the beast with alcohol, then set fire to it. It retreated, growling and wrestling and howling in pain.

Calleigh sprinted forward, avoiding the lamenting beast; she made for the door, but a ball of warm fur knocked her down. She screamed at the top of her lungs, blindly brandishing the two knives. The beast managed to block her right arm, pinning her wrist to the floor, but that gave the Detective the perfect opportunity to hit with her left hand. She centered its neck; she turned the knife in its flesh, increasing the damage as much as she could. As soon as it retreated, Calleigh slipped from under its slimy fur and started crawling towards the door.

No such luck. The third werewolf was blocking the entrance, eyeing her with his menacing yellow irises as if she were food.

They both froze for a second, then Calleigh could have sworn she saw the beast smiling. In the brief span of time it took her to blink, he had already launched at her.

Instinctively, she raised her hands to lessen the impact… which never came.

They landed heavily, a tangles mass of limbs and a clash of colors, black… and red.

Horatio…

***CONTINUES***

So, what do you think? Promising enough?