Hunter of the Shadows Book 2:
Hunter Rising.
Chapter 17
Now...
Tobius smiles softly. "Yes, that was quite a reunion. I shouldn't have been surprised by how much I missed you pups," he shakes his head slightly, eyes never straying from the firelight. "But... looking back, I wonder how I managed all those years alone before you boys came along."
"Yeah," Dean murmurs with feeling and presses a small kiss to the top of Sam's head. "Know what you mean. Life sure is a rollercoaster, huh?"
"That it is," Tobius nods slowly in agreement. "That it is, indeed."
Sam stirs and snuggles closer to his fatherbrother, but doesn't wake up. The senior werewolves glance at him, smiling fondly. If Sam were fully human no doubt he'd be petulantly rolling his eyes and bristling at Dean's possessiveness, but the young werewolf he is now clearly understands the close, protective nature of his pack and fully reciprocates. Evidence enough, is his human arm ending in a red furry paw which curls heavily over Dean's right shoulder. Any slight movement on Dean's part results in Sam burrowing deeper into his father's arms, as though afraid, even in sleep, that someone will take away his family.
Acknowledging this, Dean nods at the camera. "He's a little clingy, but then I guess that's natural. He woke up a while ago from a night mare. To cut a long story short, Sam's scared he won't know there's a threat 'til it's too late and now he won't let us out of his 'sight' if you get my meaning." He stares down at his boy, worriedly. "He's afraid he's gonna lose us, just as we're scared of losing him."
"Understandable given recent events," Tobius remarks and lights up a cigar, puffing quietly. "We've all been through a lot. But that's what we're here for – to heal both inside and out. Once Sam's health is back up to par, we can consider our options."
He doesn't mention that the small pack's counsellor is actually their very own digital audience, but the thought hangs in the air around him. Sometimes, just a damn good airing can clear the mind, without awkward or unwanted questions. And what a better way than a journal entry? An audience that won't talk or argue back?
The two fall silent, whilst Dean tosses another log on the fire, watching the flames lick higher as the wood catches light.
"I guess you guys wanna know more, huh?" says Dean, raising an eyebrow at the camera.
Then...
Trotting side by side, with Sam between us, we made our way through the forests towards Gerald's cabin. Chatting about nothing of consequence, Sire occasionally nudged against Sam, sending the kid sprawling against me which would often start off another bout of raucous play fighting.
A few hours later the cabin came into view and we changed into human form. Gerald was outside, chopping up logs. He looked up from his task with a big broad grin and set down the axe.
"Hey Guys! You're here at last!"
He wiped a sweaty hand on his scruffy jeans and sped over to us. Not waiting for permission, the little guy pulled each of us into a hug, babbling nineteen to the dozen about how Josey was in the kitchen cooking up all kinds of treats, and how Janaya-Maria was so excited at seeing us all again. Though from the twinkle in his eye when he looked at Sam, it was obvious who the little girl was really looking forward to seeing. Before heading off to college Sam used to baby sit from time to time, and had formed quite a bond with her.
Right on cue, a scuffling noise from one side of the cabin caught our attention and before anyone could react a tiny ball of thick black fur barrelled towards us, leapt up into Sam's arms, and buried its little nose in the kid's neck.
"Hey baby bear," Sam crooned softly, accompanied by the bear cubs' own soft happy mewling noises. He stroked her furry ears, chuckling when she swayed a little, her head pushing into his hand. "So you've started changing already huh?" He pulled back and smiled affectionately down at her. "Looks good on you."
The little bear chattered away in what I could only call baby language, or is that baby-bear talk? Not sure. Gotta admit, though. She sure was a cute little thing.
"Yep." Gerald announced, proudly. "Werebears can change pretty much before they can talk. She had her first change a while back, and since then she's hardly spent any time in human form."
The cabin door swung open, revealing a pretty, dark haired woman with a sweet smile and wearing a dark blue apron dusted with flour. Josey was even tinier than her husband and barely came up to my chest. I had quite the crush on her not so long ago, and now I was beginning to remember why.
"Boys! It's so good to have you home again! We've all missed you so much!"
And suddenly found my arms full of hot werebear womanhood.
Guessed I was gonna need a cold shower after this.
Sam shook his head grinning, as though he knew exactly what I was thinking, and probably damn well did!
Janaya-Maria batted at Sam's nose with a small paw and appeared to giggle, in so far as bear cubs can giggle I suppose, when he reached down and tickled her belly.
Another familiar voice suddenly called out to us.
Hey guys! That you? You should see me now! It's sooo cool!
Tobius grinned.
This was obviously the surprise he'd mentioned earlier.
We all turned, frowning when a huge, and I mean huge, black bear lumbered clumsily out of the forest towards us at high speed, grinning proudly. But when it got closer and tried to apply the brakes, it's platter-sized feet skidded on some wet leaves. Eyes widening comically with fear, the bear slipped, barely missed Sam and Janaya, somehow turned in mid air, went down on its huge hairy ass and carried on going until it ploughed headfirst into Gerald's neatly stacked woodpile, scattering logs everywhere. It finished up with the piece de resistance, it's large, muscular legs swooping upright for a few moments then, like a couple giant sequoias taking the final curtain call, fell straight back down, landing with a loud thump.
Seriously, it was like watching a cross between a circus clown and Baloo.
Andy? Sam called out, tentatively with his mind. That you?
A soft groan proceeded the newly turned werebear's attempt to sit up, but as unaccustomed as he was to the weight he now carried, it took a little longer than usual and we all turned away, shoulders shaking and smothering our grins.
Finally, after another brief struggle, he sat up and shook his large head carefully.
Wow! Really gotta get the hang of that, huh?
Gerald cleared his throat politely, but I still heard the mirth buried in his tone.
Andy has learned how to build up a good speed but I'm afraid the art of 'stopping' is proving more of a challenge for him. It's the height, ya see…he's just not used to it, but he will.
I nodded in agreement. Guy goes from shrimp to Robert Wadlow over night? I guess that's gonna be a little tricky to deal with.
How do you feel, Andy? asked Sam, obviously worried about his friend.
Uh… a little dizzy?
Sam rolled his eyes, but looked relieved. I meant, how do you feel being a werebear?
Andy tilted his head slightly to the side and propped it up with a paw, looking thoughtful, and let me tell ya, that's definitely gotta be one of the million things you have to see before you die. The Thinker, bear style!
It was weird at first, but my fur is soft. I was a little worried it would be itchy as hell, like bring me out in hives or something? But it's actually kinda nice. Andy commented, honestly. Though, I wasn't too keen on the whole nuts and berries routine for a while there. He shifted uncomfortably and, somehow, I got the sense he was flushing with embarrassment. I… uh… let's just say that I'm fairly regular these days…
Sam blinked but said nothing at first. Then he finally got it. Oh… OH! Right… yeah. Um, that's a little more than I needed to know, dude.
Hey, you asked, Andy replied, and casually reached up with a huge paw to scratch his belly.
Tobius finally spoke up at this point. Excellent. Now that we've firmly established bear bowel movement frequencies, shall we proceed?
Josey nodded and laughed. "Y'all come inside and sit down. Tobius had his famous venison lasagne slow-cooking away for ya, and I just pulled a fresh batch of chocolate fudge cake out of the oven," she winked at me and I felt the damn blush begin at the base of my neck and climb towards my ears.
My God! The woman was turning me into Sam!
Gerald chuckled, good naturedly. He's always known about me crushing on his wife and never once minded. Took it as a compliment in fact. He never gets jealous 'cos he knows Josey loves him to distraction. The guy's just that cool and, in spite of his occasional bouts of clumsiness, completely at ease with himself.
It was as we were climbing up the steps to the cabin that a question popped into my head.
So who turned you, Andy? Josey or Gerald.
Andy, who was lumbering on all fours besides Josey, rubbed his nose into her hand when she reached out and stroked between his furry ears.
I didn't know how to choose so they both did it. Andy's wide, brown, bear eyes peered up at me, filled with moisture. I finally got a family, Dean. His voice quivered with emotion. A real one that actually wants me, and won't give me away to a stranger. I can't thank you guys enough for this.
He pushed his way into the cabin, muttering something about grabbing some clothes and changing back, and I stared at his big bear body as it disappeared out of sight into the hallway, almost knocking down a few walls along the way.
That actually almost had me tearing up. The kid's thanks was so heartfelt and deep, like we'd changed his life or something. But I guess, on glancing at Andy's new Mom and Dad, and baby sister nestled in Sam's arms, that's exactly what we'd done for him. He'd gone from a lonely wanderer and orphan, to a happy werebear with a family that loves him.
Hearing Sam laugh at the bear cub's antics, the tiny form now rolling on her back on the sofa, paws scrabbling at Sam's fingers whilst he continued to tickle her belly… yeah, I understood where Andy was coming from.
Meal time was held at the werebears' big pine kitchen table. Janaya-Maria sat in her high chair in human form, gurgling away happily and clapping her hands when Sammy played peek-a-boo. The table itself was heavily laden with full cream milk, nuts, berries, roast potatoes, chopped raw steak, blackened salmon seasoned with Cajun spices and a wonderful homemade dill sauce, garlic bread, and, of course, Sire's venison lasagne sat as centre piece in all it's wonderful, cheese smothered glory.
My stomach rumbled appreciatively when the scent of Saint Agur, a soft, creamy blue veined French cheese, wafted my way. I damn well love that stuff. First time I tried it I nearly ate the whole wedge in one mouthful. But combined with the sweet taste of fresh tomatoes in a lasagne, it makes for one hell of a symphony on the tongue, one to be savoured.
Dinner was full of laughter and animated conversation. I entertained the baby by stealing one of Sam's roast potatoes, to which he retaliated by waiting 'til my back was turned and pouring salt down my neck.
Tobius won the competition for best and biggest milk moustache, and poor Andy looked like he was actually in pain, he was laughing so hard.
Eventually, things calmed down a little as our bellies filled up with the delicious food, and the senior werebears discussed how they planned to build Andy his very own bedroom, and a garage for his van. Kid looked thrilled to bits.
Desert was the promised chocolate fudge cake with ice cream. Needless to say, I ate the most pieces and even cunningly slid a left over piece off Sire's plate and onto my own. SAS Le Salle saw me alright, but he just shook his head and laughed.
"Oh, before I forget, Pastor Jim and Bobby will be here tomorrow with Andy's van," Tobius mentioned later, as we were all seated outside the cabin, surrounding a large fire pit.
The flames were warming us into an almost sleepy contentment, and somewhere nearby a small bat fluttered through the trees.
"They called en route yesterday," Sire continued.
That sure made my ears prick up. "Yeah? Any news?"
"You might say that," Sire puffed momentarily on a cigar, blowing a perfect smoke ring. "They've been tracking a series of demonic omens."
"Like what?" asked Sam, frowning deeply.
"Unusual lightning strikes, two headed cows being born, that sort of thing, but the most common seems to be possession," another smoke ring slid by and disappeared smoothly into the night.
"Azazel?" Sam questioned again.
"No. He seems quite happy in his present meat suit," Sire informed us. "We suspect it's some kind of gathering. They all appear to be forming a pattern and moving in the same direction." But he raised an eyebrow. "Not all are demon possessions, however. It seems that at least a few of the culprits are ghosts."
"Ghosts?" Gerald looked around our circle. "Is that even possible? For a human to be possessed by a ghost, I mean."
"Oh yeah," Josey answered him, softly, keeping her voice low for the sake of the sleepy bear cub in her arms. "Usually, the victim has some kind of psychic ability and can communicate with the dead, so the spirit uses that as a way in."
"And by the sounds of things, these particular ghosts are rather nasty," Tobius murmured, staring into the flames. "Rather like demons, they've been riding their victims hard, wearing them out and in some cases driving them insane."
"That is unusual," replied Josey. I sometimes forget she's hundreds of years older than her husband. "Spirits only possess to seek reassurance or pass on a message, and they tend to be gentle with their hosts. But this sounds… just brutal."
"You said psychic abilities," Andy leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. "What are we talking about here? Other special kids?"
"No, that wouldn't make sense," said Sam, and rubbed his chin. "Azazel wouldn't use the special kids for so mundane a task. He's got something more important in mind for us, Andy."
That sure made me sit up and pay attention. Us, Sam had said. That's right. The yellow eyed bastard would now seek to reclaim both Sam and Andy. He would surely want revenge for turning yet another of his kids against him. But, for possibly the millionth time of asking myself, how?
"Any idea where they're heading?" I glanced over at Sire, praying that we had some idea at least.
"Possibly a small cemetery in Wyoming, and there's something else to take into account," Sire's eyes glowed when they turned my way. "Josey was quite right when she said the victims would normally hold some psychic ability, but these were carefully selected hosts, not found at random."
"What do you mean?" Sam spoke up after a brief, stunned silence.
"They are all practitioners of Wicca," came Sire's quiet reply. "Someone went to an awful lot of trouble to round them all up."
"Wow!" I muttered, scrubbing a hand down my face. "Guess we've got our work cut out for us, huh?"
"That's one way of putting it," said Tobius.
He was about to say something else when the fire pit suddenly roared with a fiery burst of heat, the flames leaping around six feet in the air and I could feel my skin beginning to scorch painfully. Everyone leapt to their feet and backed away hurriedly, but Sam didn't get away fast enough. He was too busy shielding Josey and her cub with his body, when the sleeve of his shirt caught light and spread up his arm in an instant.
The pain must have been instant because he began screaming out, eyes clenched shut and leaking tears.
The bear cub fully came awake, mewling in fear, little eyes wide and staring up at her mom.
"Sam!" I grabbed hold of his other arm, pushed Josey back towards the cabin, then promptly knocked Sam's legs out from under him. The smell of cooked flesh made my gut churn violently as I pushed his injured arm into the dirt, and rolled him until the flames were finally extinguished.
It all happened so quickly, Sire and Gerald weren't given time to react from their places on the other side of the fire pit.
To top it all off, I didn't get a chance to check Sam over because suddenly Andy was standing in front of the fire, head lowered and eyes glowing a deep yellow, leaving us no doubt as to who this was. When he spoke it was with what sounded like a thousand voices, all twisted with anger and despair.
"You have defied me for long enough, Samuel! You will take your place by my side!"
Sam, panting in pain, gritted his teeth and pushed himself up, holding the injured arm against his chest.
His reply was fairly straight forward.
"Fuck you!"
Atta boy!
Azazel smiled and stepped closer. I didn't approve all that much and immediately tried to push Sam behind me, but the stubborn kid held his ground.
The demon tilted Andy's head, watching us with a serpent-like intensity.
"You think it so easy. Simple child!" Azazel blinked, then switched his gaze to Sire when he appeared by my side. "As for you. Don't think you'll get off so lightly. When Jake catches up, and he will, he won't stop at merely killing you. He'll tear you and your family to pieces. And I have half a mind to let him!" he snapped out and stepped towards Tobius this time, meeting his glare without a flinch. "Having lost another of my special 'projects' to your pathetic little animal farm, I should destroy you where you stand!"
Sire shrugged. "Perhaps you should, but you can't," he grinned smugly at the frustration crossing the demon's borrowed face. "You don't even know where we are. You're just borrowing Andy for a time. Interesting though, how you can get into his head, and not Sam's when you're unable find us."
"It's a one shot deal," Sam breathed out around his pain. "You only connected with Andy's mind the once, right? Probably via Lily during the last confrontation, and you've been waiting for the right moment to use it. That's how you knew he'd been turned and was no longer yours." He managed a cocky smile, in spite of his painful arm. "Made you mad, huh? And once we banish you, that connection is broken forever."
Azazel refocused his gaze back on Sam. "Nicely guessed. It's a little more complicated than that though. Werebears are pure of heart, but naïve and more easily used than their wolf counterparts. Andy knew nothing about it, even before he was turned."
"What the hell do you want?" I bit out, sharply, yanking off my button down shirt and using it to bind Sam's arm. "Just get it over with!"
And boy, was that sure loaded. By the time the yellow eyed bastard had finished, I was wishing I hadn't asked.
The demon laid it all out for us, or at least as much as any devious hell spawn could. Let's face it, lying is part of their job description so who knew just how much of his bullshit we could trust.
Turns out, Jake had been busy. He had plans to kill Sammy, govern the other children and rule all of hell. Apparently, once he caught wind of it, the current big hell boss was a little less than happy about another budding Morning Star competing for first place, and consequently sent Azazel to put a stop to it all.
Meg had obviously been busy in her demon-messenger role. Either that, or we'd been screwed right from the get go... somehow or other.
But dear ol'Jake had another ace up his sleeve, one he intended to use against the world by starting Armageddon. See, he didn't just wanna rule hell.
Oh no.
Greedy bastard wanted it all.
Somehow he found out a way to forge a special weapon and baptize it with his own demon tainted blood. Three guesses what it's made from…
Yep. Hardened silver. Quite the coincidence, right? And no surprise that the weapon is some kind of sword.
Yeah. I can hear your distain. Very Clash of the Fucking Titans, huh?
Yellow eyes gleamed intently.
"You must destroy the sword by plunging it into the heart of its creator."
Well, ain't that just fucking great?
And I sure had a few things to say about that!
"That means confronting Jake head on," I growled, angrily. "Guy's too strong for any of us and Sam has a way to go before he's ready for a skirmish!"
And that was the moment.
That wonderful moment when the catch was revealed.
Azazel raised Andy's hand towards Sammy. "You can fight him, but not without help. Take my blood. It will make you strong, but not only that, it will protect you from the effects of the sword. Silver won't harm you!"
Sam shook his head and backed away. "No deal. I'm not touching that shit! You ruined my life once before. I won't risk it again by choice."
Gotta say, the relief that flooded through me was like a warm wave that unknotted the tension in my shoulders.
Azazel, however, wasn't so happy about it.
"You're a fool with a death wish! Jake will not only use the weapon to kill your precious pack, the werebears and all your friends, but the power it wields can open the doors to the nine circles of hell! Is that what you want? To destroy the world by allowing Jake to unleash hell?" he shook Andy's head. "So selfish and prideful. And to think I'd selected you to rise as one of the nine dukes of hell. You could save everyone, Sam. All the people you love and cherish, but you'll throw away their lives for an all out war? I have enough problems with red tape without more demons on the loose."
Sam remained silent, but I could see he was thinking it through.
"Where is this door to the circles of hell?" I demanded, glaring at the bastard. "Tell us so we can bury the damn thing in cement and purify the ground with holy water."
He shrugged and explained that there's a doorway to hell in every country on the globe, and that it wasn't the doorways themselves we needed to fear, but the person who opens them. It gives them unlimited power for a short time, but just enough to gain absolute control. Apparently, it is impossible to erase a helldoor because they are not physical barriers as such. A physical barrier wouldn't be strong enough to keep hell separated from this world. Instead, it is a force field that can only be penetrated by powerful high level demons or, temporarily, by Jake's sword.
This was getting a little too much for me. Yeah, demon's lie, but this?
"What a crock," I hissed out, suddenly, "of shit!"
Gently tying off Sam's temporary bandage into a sling to support his injured arm, I stared the demon straight in the eye.
"A demonic sword, huh? Can open the gates of hell and all that? Gimme a break!" I felt Sam's hand on my shoulder but shrugged him off. Last thing I needed right then was a calming influence. What I needed was answers. "Seems just a little convenient, doncha think? And how the hell did Jake know how to construct such a weapon in the first place, huh? You tell me that, you bastard!"
Azazel merely smiled, but what he said next shocked the hell out of everyone present.
"Why. Lunar dependent werewolves, of course."
You could've heard a pin drop.
Ol'Yellow eyes went on to give us all a little known history lesson.
Lunar dependent werewolves are kind of descended from hell hounds. We knew that was likely true, 'cos Sire once told us that, as far as he was aware, lunar dependents were the result of an unholy union between demons and humans, so it wasn't much of stretch to go from demon to demonic hound.
The first ever lunar dependent held the strongest blood link to hell. They also held the knowledge to opening the helldoor; given they are direct servants to the higher demons, that also wasn't much of a stretch.
Silver is a holy metal but mixed with demon blood it can produce a key to hell, and also an extremely powerful weapon.
"Think of Dan Browne's 'Angels and Demons' if you will," Azazel's smile was beginning to get on my nerves. "The whole matter/anti-matter reaction, or good meets evil? No? Ok, that's a bad analogy but I'm sure you get my point."
Over the centuries, such knowledge had been lost as the lunar dependents were hunted down by humans and non-lunars alike. Jake, by sheer chance, had run into a surviving first generation lunar dependent – that is, one of the first ever – a little while ago, and right before he tortured and killed it, the damn thing gave up its secret. Jake had immediately seen the advantage in going up against Sam with a demonic silver blade.
But Azazel's explanations didn't end there. It seems there is good reason why silver can also kill a non-lunar. It has nothing to do with being holy metal, but everything to do with an allergic reaction.
Yeah.
A damned, everyday, run of the mill allergic reaction!
Shit!
Apparently, non-lunar haemoglobin is highly altered in non-lunars to cope with the excessive demands of iron from red meat, etc. But somehow, as a consequence, it also easily binds silver. A weird chemical reaction takes place at an atomic level which turns the silver into poison, and all this whilst it travels to the heart on a first class, all expenses paid journey.
I was beginning to see where this was heading. If Sam exposed himself once again to demon blood, then he wouldn't react with the silver should it enter his body via a wound. In the mean time, the demon blood itself would strengthen him, and all he would need to do was run Jake through with his own sword.
Yeah, real nice and easy, huh?
I bit my lip trying to steady my anger but my own blood was boiling.
"Gee. Thanks for the impromptu Chemistry lesson," my grin probably wasn't pleasant. "Now fuck off."
His eyes flared briefly, before he turned back to Sam. "You'll change your mind, boy. And when you do, you can summon me." He dropped some kind of parchment to the ground in front of the kid. "Call anytime. Leave a message with my secretary."
Then the yellow glow faded from Andy's eyes and he slumped to the ground, unconscious.
"Andy!" Josey gasped out and Gerald darted forward, scooping his new son into his arms. At the same time, Tobius picked up the parchment, gave it a cursory glance and tore it to pieces.
"Let's get him inside," the worried father strode up to the cabin, his wife and daughter in tow, and Sam slowly moving along at the back with Sire and me on either side of him.
You ok, Sammy?
Uh… yeah. Just a little sore.
No kidding. His arm was probably starting to heal already, but that wouldn't stop it from stinging like a bitch.
As we shuffled into the cabin, Gerald was settling Andy onto the couch and prying open his eyes, attempting to wake him up. So far, it seemed, he was getting no response. Sam ignored my own attempts to check his arm and pushed passed me. Crouching down beside his friend, he laid a gentle hand on the kid's forehead and closed his eyes.
A few seconds later, Sam's eyes opened again and his smile was full of relief.
"He's just sleeping. The connection with Azazel took a lot out of him. He'll wake up soon enough." Sam glanced at me. "I think it was kind of like when Bobby was in my head, trying to flip my switches."
That I sure understood and nodded, but my fears weren't eased any.
"Now, c'mon runt. I wanna check your arm. And Sammy?"
"Yeah?"
"Try not to sit so close to the fire in future, ok? Last thing we need is werewolf en flambé."
"Uhuh. I'll try to remember that."
"See that you do."
Over the next few hours Andy and Sam were made a fuss of and pampered to within an inch of their lives. Sam for protecting Josey and Janaya-Maria from the flames, and Andy because when he finally woke up, he was a little groggy for a while.
Poor kid didn't remember a thing, and given that Tobius spent several hours questioning him, I couldn't believe otherwise.
Andy was heartbroken when we told him, and his shoulders slumped under the heavy burden.
I'm sorry... so sorry... I didn't know he was there... Andy barely held back his tears, and I gotta say that I really felt bad for the little guy.
Easy boy. Tobius muttered to him. You're fine now, and this isn't your fault.
But something told us his guilt would hold him at ransom for some time to come.
Not much we could've done for him right then. As I've learned the hard way with Sammy, only time and experience would ease his burden.
Come morning, Sam's arm was fully healed, a sign that his time out in the wilderness with the non-lunar home pack had brought his health back up to par, where it should have been all along. He also faithfully promised me that he would never touch microwaved food ever again, and fully admitted that the stuff was likely the main reason why he'd been taking so long to heal from injury over the last few weeks.
Tobius was deep in thought that night and barely slept. I sometimes heard him prowling around outside, obviously in human form, judging by the smell of cigar smoke. He never ventured far from the cabin, but I could tell he was restless and annoyed.
Sire needed to hunt, I suddenly realised. He probably hadn't been out properly since he sent us out to the home pack. No wonder the poor guy was frustrated.
Sire? I can watch over things here. Just go.
There came a small pause before he answered.
Are you sure? I don't like to leave given all that's happened tonight, but… I need to run…
Huffing and snorting quietly, I replied I'll call if anything crops up. Now get! And stay safe, you hear me?
I heard his soft chuckle as he changed.
Of course. Thank you my son.
The sudden empty silence told me he'd gone, tracking and hunting, probably eagerly sniffing out some rabbit or deer trail. Tobius was happy for now and probably wouldn't be back until dawn.
But that was ok. I had a lot to think about too. One troublesome aspect in particular?
I could tell that Sam was seriously considering Azazel's offer of demon juice. Guess I didn't blame him, but there was something about the whole thing that bugged me, and no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't put my finger on it.
Author's notes:
Robert Wadlow: full name Robert Pershing Wadlow, born February 22, 1918, died in his sleep July 15, 1940 from an infected ankle blister caused by a dodgy brace.
The tallest man recorded in history, also known as the Giant of Illinois,
he required leg braces in order to walk due to his sheer size.
Poor guy was around Sam's age when he passed away.
So there you have it. Andy is now a werebear, and immortal.
He's really joined the team now, eh?
And, it seems, that Azazel has upped the stakes somewhat. But just how much of what he says can be believed...?
Many thanks for all your wonderful reviews, darlings!
May the limpSam continue!
Kind regards,
ST xxx
