Howling Bonds

17

I continued my assault with savage ferocity, sending them crashing into furniture around the restaurant with every punch or kick that connected. Blood poured from their mouths and noses as they tried to counter my strikes, but I was too quick and powerful for them.

I stood over them, my chest heaving, as they gasped for breath. One of them had a broken nose, and the other was clutching his ribs. Blood pooled beneath their tangled bodies. I watched with satisfaction, feeling the adrenaline pumping through me. The smirk that played across my lips felt like a badge of honor.

The neon colored ink from cyberpunk comics spilled from my paws as I roared in triumph. It exploded with a riot of colors, neither black nor white.

I hoisted one of the boys high into the air and plopped him down onto the sushi table. He stared at me with a look of fear.

“Do you know what this is?” I pointed to a sizable piece of tuna on the plate.

“…tuna sushi,” the little hunter mumbled a bewildered reply.

“No, this is Timothy. Say hello to Timothy.” I pressed his head into the dinner plate. “You’ll soon be buddies sharing the same plate.”

I drove my colored-inked fingers through his chest and ripped out his heart. His body was now a canvas, swiped with reds, yellows, and blues. It was like electronic art—a clamor of electrifying colors. Blood spewed from his mouth as his friend Patsy let out a scream.

I turned to him and used my paint-covered paws to draw a clown’s smiling lips on his face. “Don’t shed your tears for the weekend. You got something better!” I gave him a smirk. “Now tell me, does Andrew Fox pay y'all overtime?”

“Nope, he has no clue.” Tears streamed down his face, but the sinister glint in his eyes stayed. The page was like a Jackson Pollock painting, filled with vivid colors and dizzying insults.

I squeezed my lips together and said, “It looks like you’re volunteering to work overtime, which can lead to a cinema effect, you know?”

Patsy gaped at me in amazement.

“The cinema effect is when a f*****g asshole stands up in a movie theater, and as a result, everyone behind him has to stand and watch the movie. They end up buying a ticket, enjoying no seat, and the view is still the same. That’s how involution works, kid.” Then I snapped his spine like a twig and threw his body over the sushi bar.

I smiled in satisfaction when I saw the colorful rolls of sushi whizzing around on the conveyor belt. It felt like an electronic ukiyo-e painting came to life. The two fallen hunters lay lifeless, just like two pieces of raw sashimi on a plate.

I waited too long for the ingredients to teach me how to cook. It would taste better. Then I scrubbed the last bit of grime from my digits, grabbed my cell phone, and dialed Kleon’s video call. He responded, and I saw the man in the mask on the screen. He dressed like a post-apocalyptic cyber shaman even at home, like he was about to commune with some digital deity.

“Fae, how’s Nell?” he asked me in a deep, husky voice. “You still got them all before they could get away?”

I leaned back in my chair and listened to the buzzing of the miniature robot. I wanted to make a Hell joke for this guy. But these microbots are like electronic brains that release pulses, making it impossible for me not to follow Faye Rahman’s instructions. Even when he’s in hibernation.

“Yup, that’s it. Nell and Emilia were meant to be together, but I didn’t realize things were gonna move this fast. I remember Emilia working at my bud’s gig, busted through my tracking code. But hey, I gave them a ride to Seattle. That’s why you should let Lotus handle the back-end stuff. I mean, if I only get half the pay…”

“You’ll only get one-fifth.” Kleon’s voice sounded icy. “Or that spot we planned for the goods?”

“Oh, come on,” I complained, knowing that it was too late. The robots buzzed even harder, the sound making the nerves in my head throb. “It’s unbelievable that Elixir—a super-dangerous drug with a host of side effects—is still so hard to get. I should start a medical business focused on developing better drugs!”

“Word on the street is that you’ve got an unusual performance at the last launch, Fae,” Kleon said with a smirk. “I wouldn’t advise you to continue taking it to prevent your transformation. The risks are greater than any werewolf powers you want to keep hidden. You could end up like one of the craziest rogue wolves in our organization.”

“I’ve been busting my ass on this thing, trying to figure out how to reverse the damn Elixir curse. And let me tell you, the research has been getting crazier by the day.” I glanced at the table, watching as the ink sizzled and white smoke rose from it. “All of this is strengthening our people, so why are you always getting your panties in a twist?”

“I mean, I’m impressed by your ambition.” Kleon sneered. “But I don’t think it’s enough. Just look at what happened to Nell and those other suckers today. Our guys needed more than just strength; they needed faith. Lucky for them, I know how to give it back in spades.”

“You’re right,” I said, giving him a careless compliment. “People were desperate and constructed nations, countries, genders, holidays, revolutions, historical myths, political platforms, inspirational pamphlets, and homelands to prove that their sorrows and joys are connected. That’s what you call faith and hope.”

“I expect you to come back here with the heads of Nell and the Girl of destiny.” Kleon emphasized, “The witch predicted that their unity would bring strength and power to the werewolf clan. We can’t risk letting that happen. Only the Fevre Claws should rule the land, not those antiquated werewolves who had long since gone into hiding in the most desolate regions of the states, but still linger on. I refuse to allow them to return!”

“Sometimes I wish you drank blood, Kleon.” I sighed, and the buzzing grew louder. The damn robot seemed to have gotten inside my head, but Faye wouldn’t let me kill this thing; he still seemed a little apprehensive about his body. “What has made you despise werewolves so much? Is there something from your past causing this hatred? It’s been a common occurrence.”

Kleon cut the video chat.

I just looked at my phone. This was one of Faye Rahman’s most hated collaborators, and he dropped them on me. Mainstream culture had left behind people living in the margins of society on both sides—werewolves and humans alike. They didn’t have many options to make a real difference in how the world worked, and existed in despair, lashing out against society’s ill-treatment of them. Maybe one day I would build them a Disneyland-type reservation, provide them with jobs, yell in haunted houses, dress up as the original to sell silly moon cookies, and capture the market on some live internet platforms, and I’d be the smuggler between two worlds.

But they monopolized Elixir and, for the sake of Faye’s ambition, we had no choice but to get it.