Chapter 6: Ancient Lore

Peter called Neal in the evening while he was painting in his studio.

"Can you talk?" Peter asked. Neal heard a sports announcer in the background whose voice faded as the volume was reduced.

"It's just me and my paints." Keiko had asked Bianka to go to a symposium with her that evening. Aidan's girlfriend had become a valuable member of Neal's support team. No one would ever suspect her of anything devious. "What's the report from White Collar?"

"You remember Jones and Travis went to see Aidan about the identity fraud situation?"

"Yeah. Jones thinks the disappearance of the computer science student could be connected to a hacker group."

"Aidan hasn't heard of anything, but he said when he's at Columbia he focuses on art and shies away from the computer science department. So Travis asked a friend of his on the SETI committee. His name is Quint Worland. He's a junior, studying computer science. Travis said Quint's been assisting Mozzie with his slime research."

"Ah, yes, the Slimebusters. Mozzie mentioned he'd found an ally. Does that mean Quint is too unreliable to be trusted?"

Peter chuckled. "Apparently not. Travis said he talked with Quint early on about Mozzie's theory that slime in Columbia's tunnels has an extraterrestrial origin. It's safe to say Quint's not a believer but he likes Mozzie and enjoys working with him. Quint told Travis he'd seen the missing student on campus a day before his disappearance with a man Quint didn't recognize, but that's not much if anything to go on. He also knows of two other students who suddenly dropped off the grid. Both were studying programming. He figured they'd left for other opportunities."

"Like hacking?"

"It's worth checking out. Quint gave Travis the names and offered to keep an eye out for anything suspicious." Peter paused to take a swig of something, at this hour probably beer. "Everything okay with you?"

"No new weirdness to report, I'm happy to say." He was sure he'd gotten a little sleep.

"That's good. You planning to go to the Mabon ceremony tomorrow?"

"How do you know about that?"

"El mentioned it."

"Don't tell me she's joined the coven too?"

"God, no. Janet told her about it, though. You and Mozzie can have fun with the witches."

"Hey, I'm not going either. Aidan scheduled a fencing practice for tomorrow night."

"El also has an excuse. She's in rehearsals for her community players' first production of the season."

"Did they go with Bell, Book and Candle?"

"It would be hard for them not to since Electra suggested it. Now that her foundation is subsidizing their productions, the actors want to express their appreciation. She'll be in town for a few days on foundation business. El said she's planning to go to their rehearsal on Friday night." Peter's voice trailed off, and Neal knew why.

"Electra hasn't contacted me. I think she took the hint." On a previous visit to New York, she'd invited Neal out to dinner where she intimated it wasn't only his paintings she was interested in. She must have gotten the message when he failed to pick up on her overture.

#

While Dean sometimes joshed Sam for having an infinite capacity for tooling, the truth was there were limits. After spending the day holed up with Chloe's grimoire in Peony's sitting room, Sam's knowledge of herbal remedies was still in the cellar. Once he was able to decipher Harriet Beaufort's handwriting and arcane style, he was left with convoluted descriptions of how to prepare poultices and potions. She was annoyingly vague about what they were used for. She probably thought anyone reading the book should already know.

Dean called a couple of times to check on him. He wasn't having any better luck in his search for evidence of paranormal events on campus. Chloe was at work. Maia offered to keep him company but Sam insisted she go to Columbia. She was supposed to be in New York to research her thesis, and he didn't want to stand in her way. They might tease each other about staying in bed all day, but after the previous night, she could probably use some off time to recharge her batteries too.

Making love with Maia was more intense than with anyone else he'd ever known—even Jessica, whom he'd been deeply in love with. With Maia, it was like he was transported to another world with sensations so overwhelming . . . Sam gulped and took another swig of the herbal tea Peony gave him.

Was he in love with Maia? They'd only dated a few weeks. If he wasn't there yet, he was certainly standing on the precipice. She'd already told him that she was falling in love with him. Everything was moving so fast and overlaying it all was the curse. Sam suspected Neal was having a harder time coping with the threat. In a hunter's life, if it wasn't a curse, it was something else. The threat of being killed was a constant.

Dean and Chloe's situation was much more open. She knew he was a hunter. She understood the life. Sam doubted Dean thought about whether or not he was in love. They were living moment by moment. Sam, on the other hand, was hiding behind walls. Now he was concealing the curse, pretending there was nothing wrong with him.

His upstairs brain told him he should distance himself from Maia. Her sheltered life as a grad student was a world away from his. Jessica had been caught in the crossfire and lost her life as a result. He shouldn't risk a repetition.

But if he stopped seeing her, wouldn't it start all over? Dean would prod him into dating someone else, when all Sam wanted to do was date Maia. Was there any way they could make it work?

Peony's tea might be healthy, but it did nothing to help keep him awake. Tatyana was snoozing puppy dreams at his feet. He finally gave up on the grimoire and locked it in the drawer, leaving the book open so he could continue at a later time. Peony had given him and Chloe keys.

Returning to the table, he crossed his arms and laid his head down for a brief nap . . .

A gentle kiss on the back of his neck roused him. "Wouldn't you be more comfortable in bed?" a soft voice asked.

He smiled as he turned around. "When did you return?"

"A half-hour ago," Maia said, brushing up the sleeves of her lavender angora sweater. She nodded to a thick book on the table. "I've been reading while waiting for you to wake up." She gave him a worried smile. "After last night you probably think I have an ulterior motive, and normally you'd be right, but not now. You look exhausted."

He sat up straighter. "It's nothing. I was just resting my eyes." Not a complete fabrication.

"You mentioned you were helping Chloe with research. Is it something for her upcoming novel?"

"In a way, yes," he hedged, feeling guilty over misleading her.

"You should take a break. I've done enough studying for one day. It's beautiful outside and I bet you don't even know it. Indian summer weather like this can't last. I'm going to take Tatyana for a walk in Riverside Park. It's only a couple of blocks away. Would you like to join us?"

At the mention of her name, Tatyana cocked her head to add her mute pleas.

"There's nothing I'd rather do with my two best girls," he declared.

While Maia went upstairs to fetch their jackets, he unlocked the drawer and closed the grimoire.

Riverside Park's wooded groves and scenic vistas of the Hudson River were not what he expected. As they meandered on the trails, chatting about Maia's studies and poetry, the grim reality of Sam's job faded into insignificance.

"Let's grab something to eat and watch the sunset," Maia suggested. "I saw food carts by the tennis court. You fancy a chili dog?"

He laughed. "Don't you want something more refined?"

She exchanged looks with Tatyana. "Do we?" The puppy whimpered in response. "That means no," Maia declared. "But she'd like us to hold the mustard on hers."

A few minutes later, they were loaded down with food and soft drinks. Maia scrounged a bench where they could sit and enjoy the sunset.

Sam dug in. He was more ravenous than he'd realized.

Maia giggled and wiped his mouth with a napkin. He returned the favor, dabbing at hers. Who knew eating chili dogs could be so sexy? Sam stretched his legs out and relaxed, putting his brain on off mode.

"This is what we needed," she said quietly. "I wish . . ." Her words trailed off.

He turned to look at her. "Anything wrong?"

"Not with me. I'm worried about you."

"There's no need—" He stopped abruptly. He was being an idiot. Of course, she must have noticed something was wrong. "I'm sorry, I haven't been feeling a hundred percent recently."

"Do you think you're coming down with a bug?"

He shook his head. Tatyana looked up at him with soulful eyes and he stroked her silky fur. Eventually it would have to come out. By not telling Maia, he was doing her a disservice. "In your studies, have you ever come across the name of Astrena?"

"Astrena?" she repeated, a puzzled look on her face.

"She's an obscure Greek goddess. I'd never heard of her until recently. She's reported to be the goddess of witches and vampires."

She nodded. "I've seen a few references to her."

He took her hand. Was it fair of him to dump his burden onto her lap?

"Sam, what's going on?"

"Dean and I think Astrena's feeding off me," he admitted. "Psychically." As she gazed at him horrified, he explained about the psychic linkage. "It's not just me. Neal's been affected too."

"Are you sure?"

He nodded. "It's my job to know about this stuff." Maybe it was frustration over his own situation or just because he felt so powerless to do anything about it, but Sam knew he couldn't hold it back any longer. He told Maia about their work, about being hunters. She handled it well—much more seriously than he would have expected. Didn't question him once for being crazy when he explained that witches, vampires, and demons were real.

Maia rubbed her forehead with a shaky hand. "I had no idea how you've been suffering. You have to believe me."

"Of course I do," he said, slipping an arm around her. "I've been hiding it from everyone. Dean doesn't know how bad it's been. He's worried enough. I couldn't tell him the full extent of it." Why was he sharing so much with Maia? He wondered if subconsciously he was trying to drive her away. If she gave up on him, wouldn't it be for the best?

"When you didn't sleep last night, I thought it was strange. You were trying not to, weren't you?"

He nodded.

"When you finally dozed off, you woke me up. You were restless. I was worried you were having a nightmare."

"I remember you trying to comfort me." He scanned the park. The sky was now dark but the trails in the park were illuminated by pole lamps. "Having you there was a help. For the past couple of weeks, it's been getting worse." He lowered his voice still further. "I've been seeing a small demon. He comes into my room. Leers at me. I feel like knives are being plunged into me."

She gasped. "You must wake me if this happens again!"

He tightened his grip around her. "You're a good influence. Last night I didn't see him."

Tatyana had been lying quietly by his feet, but she jumped up and gave a low whine, straining at her leash.

Maia turned to look. "She must have seen something. It's probably just a squirrel."

Tatyana was trying to head toward the river. Sam stood up to scan the area. In the distance, he spotted a furtive shape loping near the water. It appeared to be listing to one side as it ran, its steps appearing oddly out of rhythm.

"Did you see that?" Maia exclaimed.

"Stay here," he ordered and sprinted off after it. Was that really a zombie? It was the only thing he knew of who ran like that. Off in the distance, he heard a faint "Aar-ooooooooooh!"

#

When Neal walked into the bullpen on Thursday, Travis was standing at Jones's desk. Howls were the topic du jour. Neal and Richard had heard them when they walked to fencing practice the previous evening. Sam had also phoned in a report. Neal tossed his fedora on the bust of Socrates on his desk and joined them.

"What's Mozzie's theory?" Jones asked Neal.

"You sure you want to know?"

Jones set his jaw. "I knew it. Zombies. With so many reports coming in, the students are right."

"Not necessarily," Travis cautioned. "Aidan believes they're wolf howls that have been digitally distorted. He works with audiovisual special effects. He should know."

Peter strode over from the breakroom, carrying his FBI mug. "I heard that, and I like his theory."

"Aidan's stressing much more about the fencing meet next Saturday than howls in the night," Neal said. "It's our first of the season, and our opponent is MIT, his alma mater. Aidan was captain of the undergrad fencing team there. I asked him if he doesn't have mixed loyalties, but he claims not to."

"I'll have to see that for myself," Peter said. "I need to be on campus anyway for the telescope workshop and I wouldn't want to miss your first competition of the season."

Neal hoped the extra adrenaline boost from supporters would be just what he needed to kick-start his performance. Last night, the warm-up exercises had left him out of breath. He hadn't mentioned it to his teammates even though Richard and Aidan knew about the curse. Neal was the only one who had a chance in the sabre competition. Somehow he'd have to power through it.

"As long as I'm at Columbia, I'll also stop by the LARP strategy session," Peter added, tossing out that bombshell as if it was routine news.

"You're participating?" Neal felt the grin break out on his face.

"El talked me into it. She's probably conspiring with Janet as we speak."

"Have you settled on your costume?" Jones asked. "Will you be a noble or one of the peasants?"

Peter groaned. "More decisions! I told El she was free to pick anything as long as it doesn't require fittings."

Neal felt his cell phone vibrate in his pants pocket and reached for it. Dean's name was on the display. After a few words, he switched to speaker. The others needed to hear this as well.

"Bobby just called." The sound of muffled conversation and the clatter of dishes in the background made Neal suspect Dean was calling from the student center. "I'd sent him the photos of the body. He thinks we've got a leech-man on our hands."

"A leech-man," Peter repeated, looking flummoxed. "Never heard of one."

"Me neither, but you should know by now that doesn't mean much. Bobby claims the bite mark had to come from a leech, but the size of the wound indicates someone larger, most likely man-sized."

"Dean, this is Travis. Does Bobby know of any accounts of leech monsters?"

"It took some digging but he found one. Weewillmeku." Dean spelled it for them. "No guarantees on the pronunciation. From here on out, I'm calling him Willy. It's an ancient Native American river spirit. Bobby has photos of an old pictograph that could be him. It shows a leech-man rising from the water."

"Do you know which tribe believed in him?" Neal asked as Peter looked at him questioningly.

"The pictograph was associated with a Lenape settlement in upstate New York along the Hudson River. I gather there's an archaeological site in the Hudson Gorge Wilderness."

"I know where that is," Peter said. "It's north of Albany where I grew up. A Native American museum is close by."

"Are you saying that an ancient spirit traveled all the way down the Hudson River and is now attacking Manhattan?" Travis asked incredulously.

Dean snorted. "A homegrown version of Godzilla? Sam and I do crazy all the time, but even for us this is a stretch."

"It may not be as implausible as you think," Neal said and turned to Peter. "At the site where Columbia's building the new sports complex, they've found fragments of pottery made by the Lenape. I talked with Tricia about them. Her husband Mitch had been brought in to consult on the discovery."

Peter took a deep breath, his frown deepening. "Dean, do you have any information about the habits of this leech-man?"

"According to the lore, when Willy was angry, he'd leave the water and attack members of the tribe. He didn't kill all of them. Some behaved like . . . um . . . Hell, no good way to say it—zombies."

Jones gulped. "So the zombie sightings are real?"

"Could be. Sam and Maia saw one in Riverside Park yesterday evening. Sam tried to pursue it. He couldn't catch it, but he swears it had the mouth of a leech."

"Any hints on how we get rid of a leech-man and his zombie minions?" Neal asked.

"You gotta appease the spirit, but the lore doesn't say how. That's up to us to figure out."

Notes: I based Weewillmeku on a water monster of the Algonquin people: Weewillmekq. There are various spellings for his name. I picked one that wasn't quite as much a tongue twister.