The Devil in Paris

Chapter 19: Night Moves

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Don't own this franchise. Now. Onward.

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Night Moves

The abandoned apartment building where the Warwolves had made their base of operations: Sabrina-Phantasm-made her way invisibly up the staircase. Through the power of her eudaemon, she had altered her body's molecules to have the same refractive index as the air around her, and thus would not register to anyone's eyesight.

That is, Chloe had stressed, any normal eyesight. These were unknowns, after all. So she'd taken extra pains to be invisible to ultraviolet and infrared wavelengths as well, but at the cost of her own vision. In order for human eyes to work, they had to catch and interact with at least part of the electromagnetic spectrum humans called visible light. To compensate, she'd left her eyes-the tiniest part she could make do with-unchanged. After all, where she was going, it was necessary for her to see, just be as unseen as possible.

She hated being Phantasm. It seemed to take her out of herself, somehow. As though being nonexistent and invisible to others' eyes also made her whole self nonexistent, to varying degrees.

But she'd do anything for Chloe.

She probed ahead with her limited telekinesis. This would be a very poor place to run afoul of a trap, or even just fall through a weak spot in the floor.

She was still dealing with her disappointment regarding Chloe. Couldn't the girl see how she really felt? But no, she guessed not. She sighed, very softly, so as not to attract attention. It was not like she really had anything to offer her childhood friend, anyway. She was stupid and ugly.

But such hopes she'd had…

Wait. Just up there. She could hear the sound of what had to be voices, but voices speaking in a language she couldn't understand. And they didn't sound to be human voices, either; more like soft growls, whines, and the occasional tiny…bark?

If werewolves had a language, it would have to sound something like this.

Okay, Sabrina, she said to herself, steeling herself, going over, in her mind, all the possibilities she could think of. Time to go to work.

She crept up to the door from which the sounds were emanating, and listened, alongside the wall, keeping well away from the door itself. Doors could open upon one so very suddenly…without proper preparation, if one slammed open unexpectedly, it could knock her from pillar to post. She listened intently. More of those strange sounds that sounded like language. While she was deathly afraid of werewolves-they were one of her childhood fears-she knew she'd have to get closer, to do what she'd thought of, earlier.

Altering her molecular makeup a bit further, she slipped past the molecules of the door. She had to stifle a gasp: yep, "werewolves" pretty much described these creatures, but werewolves wearing uniforms.

?

Most were sitting about or sleeping. A couple seemed to be playing some sort of card game she didn't recognize. One large one, who seemed to be in charge, was talking quietly to another…and there were weapons of all sorts lying around: guns, swords, knives, and other odd looking devices that were probably weapons or tools of some sort. Werewolves with weapons? Well, Chloe had said they seemed civilized. She tucked herself just around a corner of the large room…and pulled out her phone, her thumb already on "Translate." She doubted this would work, but it was worth a try. At the very least, she could record what was being said for future translation.

The phone, invisible to all but her, lit up. She was careful to keep the light from it shining into the room. It shouldn't, being locked inside her invisibility field, but there was no point in taking a chance.

But then one of the creatures lifted its snout, turning towards her, sniffing the air, and growled / spoke something that needed no translation.

With a cold feeling, Sabrina realized she'd not taken into account their sense of smell.

"What's that?" asked Thornmoon Ironpaw.

"What's what?" replied the Warwolf, next to him.

"Smells like…smoke. Very faint, though." He got up and went to the window. "Seems to be coming from out there, somewhere."

What was the creature doing, going to the window?-wondered Sabrina.

"Probably just some fire," the other said. Mastron Pureblood and Ardent Bloodfang were still engaged in their conversation on the other side of the room. "Humans are always setting fires, for whatever reason. Or for none."

"Doesn't smell like a fire. Or at least, not like any fire I've ever smelled."

"I don't smell anything."

"Well, I do. It's very faint, little more than a trace, but it's there."

"So what's so unusual about it?" his companion asked. "I mean, it's smoke. So?"

"This doesn't smell like any smoke I've ever smelled. Something about it…" He paused, calming himself. All creatures feared fire, but there was something somehow wrong about this smoke. The hackles on the back of his neck were raised.

Now the other Warwolves were rousing themselves, alerted by Thornmoon's comments. Sabrina realized she had to get out. An alert werewolf was one she didn't care to be around, no matter how civilized it might be. A whole company of alert werewolves multiplied the danger immeasurably.

There was a small piece of plastic tubing lying on the floor. With the werewolves-or whatever they were-focused on whatever had attracted their attention outside, Sabrina quickly picked it up…and tossed it towards a far corner. Go fetch! She headed for the unoccupied window.

But these were not dogs, and rather than watch the stick and where it was going, several, especially the one who'd initially seemed to smell something, backtracked its path, to where it was thrown from. But Sabrina was no longer there.

The big one sniffed the air. He growled something, and pointed right at her.

Uh oh.

She was at the window, which, fortunately, was open and clear. Out she dove-only to be seized around the middle. Shit! She could've sworn she was too far down! But looking back, she saw one of the creatures had grabbed her, while another, still inside the building, had grabbed it. The creature with its hands / paws on her midsection gave out a soft growl that weirdly enough didn't sound threatening.

There is no such thing as a non-threatening werewolf.

Altering her molecular structure further, she slipped through the werewolf's grasp-and her body, still subject to the laws of gravity, headed downward, towards, the alley, and the deadly concrete below.

Behind her, she could hear the creatures clamoring down the fire escape, swinging over and down. But they wouldn't catch up with her, not in time.

Goodbye, Chloe. I love you.

Suddenly, there was a ka-bang! as an old-style garbage dumpster suddenly slid out of the shadows to a point right underneath her. She crashed through the swinging lid-right into the stinkiest garbage she'd ever smelled. Hadn't anybody ever thought to empty this thing? Like, since the Paleolithic??

Almost immediately, she felt something, or perhaps someone, fishing around in the garbage around her. Two strong limbs latched around her and pulled her out. With her head still ringing from the impact, she couldn't activate her powers to escape. Well, this is it.

I wonder what it will be like to be a werewolf? Or worse, a werewolf's dinner?

But the arms, and whatever they were attached to, pulled her out and began running down the street. "Hush, child," said a female voice. "That garbage you fell into will confuse their sense of smell, but not their sense of hearing." Sabrina couldn't see in the darkness, with the moon behind the clouds, but whatever was carrying her was moving at a fast clip. "I'll take you around this next corner, and then lead them off. But, er, in the future," bounce, bounce, "You might wish to rethink your tactics."

Around the corner: Whoever was carrying her stopped, set her down-and the moon came out.

Sabrina gasped to see what could only be described as a werewolf girl, a beautiful werewolf girl, white-furred, with pointed ears, dreadlocks hanging down the back of her head. She partially straightened up, glancing back down the way they'd come. "Here," she said, thrusting something into Sabrina's hands. "Use this if necessary. Just throw it. It won't harm anyone, but it will confuse their senses even further. But I'll go lead them off. It's me they're after, anyway, not you." And she turned to go.

"Wait!" exclaimed Sabrina, "who-who are you?"

The werewolf girl hesitated momentarily. Then, "I'm Kalista. Now, hurry on back to your people." And with that, she was gone.

…

"Jesus Christ!" Chloe, still in her guise as "Red Wasp," jumped up from her console when Sabrina staggered in. She held her nose. "What in the world happened to you? You fall into a dumpster or something?"

"Actually, yes." Sabrina was very self-conscious. She knew she smelled to high heaven…and right here in front of Chloe, of all people. Well, she'd deliver her report and vamoose home. She was literally shaking from the reaction. "A p-particularly s-smelly wu-one."

Being chased by one's personal phobias wasn't something that happened to one every day.

Chloe noticed. She'd never seen meek, mild Sabrina thrown this far out of whack before. She took a surprised Sabrina by the hand. "C'mon. In here. Switch off your eudaemon." She'd already switched hers off and was wearing her standard designer jeans and top.

She led Sabrina into the bathroom just adjacent to her command center, and, to Sabrina's vast surprise, began to remove her clothes. "Well, what are you waiting for? Take your clothes off, girl. I'll throw 'em into the cleaner." She skinned out of her underwear and turned the shower on. "Now come on." Her gaze sharpened. "You're shaking, even. C'mon. I'll wash you off and you can tell me what happened."

The next few minutes were heaven for Sabrina. At Chloe's direction, she leaned against her and just let her soap, scrape and scour the stench off her. She was barely aware of what she was saying. Just the sheer feel of Chloe's bare skin against her was…intoxicating. Like a cattle prod loaded with pure pleasure rather than electricity. She longed to hold her and kiss her, and, yes, even more, but restrained herself. She was, after all, just the friend, the loyal minion. Nothing more.

"So…uniformed werewolves? With weapons, yet? That's new."

"I don't know if you could really call 'em 'werewolves,'" responded Sabrina, dreamily. "Maybe not werewolves as such. Maybe more like 'aliens who look like werewolves.' They didn't act like monsters, is what I'm saying."

"And this werewolf girl who saved you…yeah, I can kinda get behind that. Maybe they came from some world where canines evolved rather than primates. I c'd see it. But she said they were after her? Why?"

"She didn't say. But I had my phone on 'Translate,' and, although it got smashed in the dumpster, I had it on automatic upload. There should be a record in the cloud."

"Waytago, girl! Yeah, I'll check it out." Pause. "How are you feeling now?"

Wonderful, Sabrina started to say, but bit the word back. Instead she looked up at her best friend and said, "I'm okay. I don't think I'll wilt any flowers when I walk past."

Chloe hugged her close. "That wasn't all I meant. But yeah, you aren't shaking anymore. Look, if you need some time off-*"

"No, no, I'm fine, Chl-*, I mean, boss." Smiled to show it was said in humor.

"Well, good." For her part, Chloe was becoming aware of an intense and very pleasurable feeling herself. Sabrina's naked body, pressed up against hers…that mouth, that just somehow looked so kissable…

But no. Just no. This is my oldest and dearest friend, who's stood by me all these years, in spite of my bitchy ways. The one I used, having her do my homework, my housework, and then wouldn't even let her ride in the goddam limousine, for God's sakes.

I won't take advantage of her again.

I won't hurt her again.

I just won't.

To be continued...