The Yellow Sun Part 9

"Are you going to be okay?" Stephanie asked him gently, leaning over the back seat so she could get closer to him. Evidently uncomfortably close for Chris.

"I'll be fine. Just...bad memories."," The hunter pulled away from her and nodded.

"Sounds like it," Amara said softly. "You're sure you don't want us to drop you off somewhere?"

"No. Really." Christopher shook his head. "I'll be okay. I just need some air and some time."

Stephanie nodded and looked back out the window. Time went by in silence, giving her a rather long period to sit and wonder what exactly happened with Christopher. He seemed so very collected and calm. He seemed like he knew exactly what he was doing, and then suddenly, it was all gone. She shook her head and tried not to think about it.

When she saw the blue and red lights flashing in the distance, she knew they were close. It was like an alarm or a signal for them. Not so much keeping people away by letting them know it was a crime scene as it was a beacon for other people who were forced to get involved.

*I smell blood.' Spirit got up and climbed over Stephanie to stick her head out the window.

"How bad do you think it's going to be?" Stephanie asked her.

*Pretty bad.'

Chapter Fifteen.

Again, Jeremy failed to give the others a real concept of what they were walking into. "It's the same as the others found," didn't really being to describe it. Blood was splattered everywhere. It covered the area mixed with thick globs of meat. The smell of the blood and insides hung on the hot summer air. Stephanie gagged on the stench as she got closer to the scene.

"Why do they always find these things in the dark?" she asked as the group crossed the tape barrier and walked past the police. This time they weren't even stopped. The two officers standing at the blockade had seen Amara and Stephanie there more than once. They avoided speaking to her or even knowing her name. The less they knew the better, and Amara couldn't blame them. Sometimes she wished she could be as blissfully ignorant as they got to be.

"I'd guess because the people are being murdered at night," Chris said lightly, half poking fun at her.

"I'm going to wait here," Stephanie announced from the barrier. It was just too much for her to take this time.

Amara nodded, she knew Stephanie didn't do well around dead bodies, let alone when that amount of blood and other unmentionables were scattered around. She looked to Spirit who already started to scent the air.

"Why don't you go start sniffing around?" Amara said to Spirit who padded off to try to find a scent. "And don't eat anything."

A low growl erupted from the wolf's throat as she ran off, darting between the mix of police officers and Administration officials tensed and startled despite the warning. Then again, when someone says, "I'm bringing a werewolf," no one expects the ma.s.sive size. Often, when people mention werewolves one of two images turn up in their mind. Either a wolf standing on hind legs with ma.s.sive claws, or a human who has turned into a normal wolf. A wolf the size of a pony is much less often what one people would find themselves thinking of. Jeremy dodged Spirit as he made his way over to Amara and Christopher.

"Sorry about all the suits. Top Priority means everyone and their mother has to come wandering around the scene. Then again, you had that thing tag along."

"Don't let her hear you say that, Jeremy," Amara warned. "She's a little feisty."

The group started their walk over to the body, pushing through the ma.s.s of photographers, police, and FBI look-a-likes. "By the way, thanks for the vivid warning about what we were coming to see. This is nothing like the other bodies. Are you sure it's even related? Whoever this is was torn to shreds."

"Not true," Jeremy said as he walked over to the remaining intact lump of meat. "Take a closer look. All the same parts are missing. The only real difference is that the person was torn limb from limb and scattered within the surrounding five feet. I'm guessing he or she tried to fight back."

"That about rules out a werewolf," Amara said as she slipped her gloves on. "Who takes on one of those things rather than just running?"

"Apparently someone pretty b.l.o.o.d.y bold," Chris chimed in. He was a step ahead of Amara. "Check out the ragged areas where the skin is ripped. Claws. Vampires don't have claws."

Amara bent down and a puzzled look crossed her face. She touched the torn ends and shivered. When Jeremy said this person was ripped apart he meant it. Amara could only hope the person wasn't still alive when it happened.

"So we're looking for a werewolf then? It doesn't add up."

"No fur," Jeremy shrugged. "Maybe it's just being careful."

*It's summertime,' Spirit thought to them as she hurried past.

"So?" Amara said, glancing up to her.

*We don't shed so much in the summer. Spring and fall yes, and our coats are thicker in the winter, but in summer it's a bit of a relief. Less fur to be rid of.'

Amara and Chris looked at each other quietly. How had they missed that fact? How had they not realized that werewolves, like most other animals, go through a seasonal cycle?.

"We need to catch whatever this is before anyone else gets killed. It's killed seven victims already. That's seven too many," Jeremy said, sounding a little more tired than usual.

"Everyone is working on it," Amara a.s.sured him. "We're closing in, and it's just a matter of time."

Suddenly Spirit stopped. She sniffed the ground in a circle, then the air. She walked for about five feet before she lifted her head and looked back to the group. She gave a quick, shrill bark to get their attention *I've got it. I've got the scent.' Spirit shouted to them as she followed the trail back toward the town.

Amara sprinted after her down the street and away from the shocking lights of the police cruisers. She didn't bother to look back for fear of losing sight of the wolf, although if she had really taken time to think on that, she may have slowed down. She might have to work hard to lose sight of Spirit rather than keep up with her. She glanced back only once when she heard Christopher's distant voice shouting for Stephanie to follow them.

They jogged for a few minutes, leaving Amara out of breath and gasping for air before they were back in the city. Spirit paused just at the outskirts. A giant wolf might cause a little bit of a stir, even somewhere as unusual as this place.

Amara took the moment to catch her breath as Christopher and Stephanie caught up. She looked out into the city and for the first time, really took in what was before her. Even at a distance, the metropolis looked busy, even at this early hour. Cars rushed here and there, and an a.s.sortment of people all ready crowded the streets. Maybe getting their first cup of coffee from Starbucks or rushing in late to work. She was sure some of them were just headed home. Somewhere in that jumble was their killer.

"Let's go." It was Christopher's short, breathless order that instinctively forced Amara into step.

"What about Spirit?" Stephanie asked as she followed down the embankment toward the city.

*I'm coming,' the wolf said as she shrank down to a smaller size again. It was a magical process to see happen. When a werewolf transformed from human to animal or from animal to human, it was a violent process. The gruesome sounds of crunching bones and ripping flesh would erupt from their body. For most werewolves the pain was enough to knock them out for a short while. More often than not the lycanthrope would, at the very least, be disoriented for a few minutes after shifting.

This was pure magic.

Spirit simply shrank. It was as if she were Alice drinking the potion on the table top. One moment she was gigantic, the next she was the size of a golden retriever. Not every lycanthrope can shift their size, but when one is born into the bloodline rather than bitten or scratched, it comes with some benefits other than heightened senses and animalistic strength. Some could even change their entire body structure at a simple thought. Of course, they would always be more or less human or more or less wolf, but that would be where the myth of werewolves who stood on their hind legs originated. Somewhere along the line someone found they werewolves could pause mid-shift and hold the form.

Stephanie still seemed amazed by the power. She watched Spirit closely as they made their way toward the city. The group followed the wolf down the street, and Amara looked around. Something here was strikingly familiar. She didn't spend much time in this area of the city, but something just rang a bell. A very large, loud bell.

"Hey," Stephanie pointed up at one of the still-glowing signs of a twenty-four hour diner. "Isn't that the place Steven's friend owns?"

"Yeah, the place with the sweet burgers." Amara made a face of disgust that reminded Stephanie of someone who just ate a teaspoon of mustard.

*This is where the scent leads.' Spirit paused at an alleyway leading down past The Yellow Sun Diner.

It was still dark and littered with garbage. Large, green dumpsters were pushed against the sides of buildings. A single light flickered on an off as if it weren't sure if it should stay lit with the rising sun.

"Well," Chris said quietly, looking down the alleyway. "This seems rather precarious."

"Like some bad horror movie," Stephanie added as she followed after Spirit. Chris walked in after her, checking his gun in the holster at his side. Luckily, he remembered to get it back from Amara before they got out of the car. It seemed like he might need it.

Amara glanced over her shoulder one last time at the busy street before she joined the group. She pulled out her own hand gun and kept it low at her side. She didn't need to be completely ready yet. The last thing anyone needed was one more innocent bystander dead.

*Here.' Spirit sniffed the bottom of one of the back doors and snorted. *It smells strange. Cold and," she paused, trying to think of the right word, *I'm not sure. There's something else-carrion?'

"A meat locker, maybe?" Christopher pressed his palm flat against the door. "If I were a hungry werewolf, that's where I would go to. Maybe he's still in there."

Amara nodded in agreement. She had to agree, actually. If she just finished shifting, she would try to find something to eat and a cool place to rest. Then again, the wolf had just eaten, hadn't it? She thought for a moment, it hadn't. The body had been ripped apart, but none of the parts seemed eaten. The parts missing were cut out in very nice, clean incisions.

"Step back, but be ready. I'm going to pick the lock and open the door. If it's there, shoot it. Don't take chances." When it looked as if Stephanie was about to argue, she added, "Now isn't the time to ask questions. If this thing has killed this many people, it's dangerous. If we die, the whereabouts die with us."

Stephanie nodded , readied her gun, and stood back, which left Amara to pick the door*s lock. Spirit stepped aside as well, while everyone else took a place. This time she hadn't gone as far. With no guns involved that weren't on her side, she was more than ready to jump in there and take whatever was doing this down.

Amara pulled a small black pouch from her pocket. When she opened it, there was an array of small instruments inside. All with black handles and strange curves to their metallic tips. Some swirled, others forked. She pulled one out of the pouch and worked at the lock. After a few minutes, Spirit became impatient.

*Are you sure you know how to do this? It never takes this long in the movies. He could be gone by now.'

"Yes, I'm sure. Being a werewolf, I would think you would realize that not everything in the movies is the same as real life," she snapped in a hushed tone. "Now be quiet. I need to concentrate."

Spirit huffed a deep sigh and sat down, waiting a little less than patiently. She sniffed a little bit to be sure the trail wasn't fading. If the wolf wasn't inside when they opened the door, she would need to track him from there. If she singled out his scent now, it would be much easier. When she sniffed at the lower part of the door, she could smell, just slightly under the overpowering aroma of frozen meat and blood, the wolf.

*He's still in there.' She kept her eyes locked on the door and stepped back.

"Good," Christopher said. "Maybe this can end quickly, and we can all call it a day."

"Shut up, or he's going to hear you," Amara scolded them in a harsh whisper. "He's a G.o.dd.a.m.n werewolf. He can hear the crickets in the park from here."

After a few more minutes of silence, the lock popped with a triumphant click. Amara put her tools away and got her gun ready. She gestured for the rest of the group to get ready and, as they slipped into position, opened the door quietly so she wouldn't ruin their element of surprise...if they still had it.

With the doors open, they saw hunks of meat draped on hooks dangling from the ceiling. Amara stepped in, and the cloud from her breath reminded her how cold the room really was. The group made it inside with their guns drawn and ready to fire. Stephanie let Spirit into the room and softly closed the door behind them to keep the werewolf inside from having an easy route to his escape.

The group made their way through the grizzly labyrinth of suspended, skinned carca.s.ses. Every once and in a while, someone would b.u.mp into one of the frozen animals, and it would swing ever so slightly, but the weight would keep it from wobbling too far. Off in the distance, they heard chopping noises, and it occurred to them that maybe Brandon wasn't aware of the impending danger lurking through his meat house.

Amara signaled for them to head to the left, toward the chopping sound. They would need to get Brandon to safety before they could find the animal they looked for.

If he were hit by a bullet, or worse, bitten by the wolf, they would have a whole new problem on their hands. Brandon came into view, and the group fell to a sudden stop, confused and shocked by what they were seeing.

Brandon stood in his meat locker only six feet from them. He was naked with his bare back to the group. He hacked at the meat with hard, swift chops. He didn't seem very aware of the biting cold around him.

Stephanie stepped forward, ready to ask if he were okay, when Amara grabbed her wrist. Stephanie looked at her and realized Chris already had his gun pointed at the man. Amara did the same and that was when Stephanie realized what was going on. Her eyes widened, and she had her gun on him in a flash.

"Well, this is a new story for back at Headquarters," Amara called to him.

Brandon jumped in surprise, startled by the sudden realization that other people were there with him. He turned swiftly, and as he set his knife on the table behind him, Brandon knocked a large chunk of b.l.o.o.d.y meat onto the chilly floor.

Stephanie could feel her heart stop and her stomach clench as she realized he wasn't chopping beef. The human hand on the cement was enough to make her really take in the scene around her. She glanced to the side and realized there were more than seven victims - many more. How had they walked through this maze and not realized what was hanging around them?

Torsos of human beings. Occasionally a packaged arm or leg was in the pile, the meat neatly sorted into areas. How long had he been doing this?

"You're killing and eating people?" Stephanie shouted the question, sounding outraged and horrified.

"Not exactly," Brandon answered. He tried to sound as innocent and sweet as he could possibly be.

"How exactly not?" Amara asked sharply. If he weren't the one behind the murders, they would need to know right away. Of course, he was still just as guilty if he were there cutting up the bodies.

"I don't eat the food I cook," he pointed out, "but other people seem to love it. Except you." He glared at Amara a little as if he were still insulted she hadn't finished her meal earlier that week.

"Sorry, cannibalism isn't my strong point," she said and walked closer to him, her gun still pointed at his head. "One wrong move, and I'll blow your head off. We don't need you alive, just consider it a courtesy." She pulled out handcuffs from a clip on the back of her belt and locked them around his wrists.

Brandon went with them surprisingly quietly. Of course, he had been living la vida loca. Spending his days as a cook and his nights ripping people apart. Anyone would be tired and subdued after that.

"Oi, Amara," Chris called, the humor already in his voice. "To Serve Man, huh?"

"*It's a cookbook. It's a cookbook." Amara couldn't help but laugh at the reference to the old movie.

Relief that they'd caught the killer was starting to settle in. If he went with them quietly, the group would deliver him to The Administration HQ where he would likely be put to death. If he ran, they could shoot him. Either way they won. Either way it was over.

Christopher's phone rang, and he took the moment to answer it. "h.e.l.lo?"

"Christopher, it's Alexander."

"What do you want?" Christopher's voice deepened in irritation.

"He's not Kafele's. The gunman from the other night. He was one of Kafele's soon to be slaves, but he strayed. It's not my cousin who is after you."

"Who then?" he asked.

Before he could get the answer, Stephanie's scream rang out from behind them. Chris turned to see what happened, and a sharp pain raced through his head. It took a moment for him to realize someone hit him with something. His vision darkened as he hit the floor. He felt the icy cold ground stick to his cheek. Then the world went black.

Chapter Sixteen.

As Amara came to, she still felt frozen. A sharp pain tore at her arms, shoulders, and back;, her muscles and joints were stiff as if she had slept in the wrong position. She tried to pull her hands down, and when she felt the resistance there, she snapped awake. Amara groaned in pain as she really woke up and looked around the room quickly. Her wrists were tied above her head to one of the many meat hooks. She was close to the table, but not close enough to try to reach one of the knives with her foot. She glanced to her left and saw Christopher in the same position, to the right was Stephanie. She wasn't sure what happened to Spirit.

"Where am I?" Amara wasn't asking anyone in particular, but she hoped someone would have the answer and a plan.

"Right where you were before," a voice responded, though she couldn't quite see where it came from.