Wolfie Star-Runner Plays with Hellfire

By Danielle Freeman

A simple journey south to Wyvernly takes an unexpected turn when Wolfsbane and company cross paths with his cousin Calvin. The “Hero for Hire” and aspiring legend joins the party and soon convinces them to take a detour to explore the ancient treasure caves of Mount Teratos. But, treasure is not the only thing said to be sealed away within the mountain’s depths—it’s also the place where the terrible Hellfire Lord Goramesh was imprisoned!

When Wolfie and Calvin let their curiosity get the better of them and release this sealed evil from his can, however, our heroes find that there is more to this his mythic rampage than scorched cities and an impressive body count. Can they get this ancient destroyer to warm up to them enough to change his evil ways? Or is his blazing temper just too hot to handle?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Danielle Freeman
• Release date: Aug 26, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311460301

Danielle Freeman

Danielle Freeman is an independent author who specializes in fantasy and sci-fi. A natural storyteller from an early age, her love of literature and writing was seeded and cultivated by her mother--who not only took it upon herself to make sure that her children were fluent readers by the time that they began school but also took Danielle and her sister on frequent weekly trips to the local library.In addition to writing, Freeman loves drawing and is a big fan of animation and comics, both American and international. Her favorite titles span the content spectrum from Alan Moore and David Gibbons' gritty and influential superhero deconstruction "Watchmen" to the wacky and nonsensical anime series "Excel Saga".In her own work, Freeman goes by two main rules:1. Always write the kind of story that you yourself would want to read.2. Always leave them wanting more.

Book preview

Julium 26, 1043 P.W.D

A pleasant evening breeze blew as the four travelers relaxed for the evening, causing the campfire to flicker and circulating the scents of wild herbs, cooked meat…and blood. Wolfsbane Bendis sat a safe distance from the fire as he finished off his supper—a nice, juicy rabbit. The storm cloud gray fur of the twenty-year-old werewolf’s hands and muzzle was stained with blood both from the hunt and the meal, and his long furry tail wagged a mile a minute with delight as he savored the last few morsels of his catch. Across the campfire, his brother’s riding drake nibbled on some unfortunate possum for whom playing dead had backfired horribly. The beast uttered a satisfied murmur now and then, adding to the sounds of crickets and conversation and crackling fire which filled the sparsely wooded plain where they had settled for the night. Above them, the stars above gleamed like glitter dusted all over a jet black wall and the waning crescent moon shone with a comforting glow that reminded Wolfsbane of the nightlight that he had owned as a little boy.

He had been on the road for eight days now, traveling with his best friend Falor, his younger brother Inferno, and his uncle Falcon to the city of Halborn to meet up with his uncle’s boss. Uncle Falcon had to check in with his Sub-Alpha at the Hunter Wolves’ League—a secret organization of werewolves who happened to be werewolf hunters—from time to time to keep him posted. This man, Desdon, also seemed to wish to meet Wolfsbane and Falor for some unknown reason. His uncle had explained that his boss enjoyed playing the mysterious mystic whenever possible, and whenever he did he played the role to the hilt. This situation was probably no exception.

We’ve been making pretty good time, Uncle Falcon said with a smile as the black clad, roughly six-foot-three, middle-aged man casually reclined against a rock. We should make it to Halborn by mid-morning tomorrow.

Falcon Bendis was fifty two years old, but the only things about the man which gave away any hint to that were the few age lines on his face and the fact that his long, dark brown hair—which he kept tied back in a semi-neat ponytail—was graying at the temples. Other than that, he carried himself more like a man in his late twenties or early thirties and his brown eyes glimmered with a hint of almost child-like mischief much of the time. He had been Wolfsbane’s mentor on all matters lycanthropic for the last few weeks now…and technically, maybe even long before that.

The fact that Uncle Falcon was a werewolf had been a tightly-held secret of his for nearly thirty six years…well, until he had revealed himself to Wolfsbane and subsequently (due to a very stupid move on Wolfsbane’s part) to the rest of their family. It still had to remain a secret from the majority of the world, however. Between the International Werewolf Hunters’ Association’s policy of killing all werewolves and the fear and hatred which the general populace tended to feel toward werewolves on the whole, it was pretty much a matter of life or death.

Falor nodded. Aye, the twenty-year-old half-velvend said cheerfully as he pushed a few strands of his long, wavy, dark blue hair out of his face, I can’t believe we’re almost there. He was in his natural form this time, and so his humanoid body was covered head-to-paws in goldish-brown fur. He also had red eyes, a fox-like muzzle, three fluffy fox-like tails, and a pair of large fox-like ears situated at the top of his head.

Wolfsbane had been friends with Falor Danek ever since he had become a werewolf just over a month ago. When they had met, Wolfsbane had just been bitten after taking out an evil werewolf and was struggling with the idea of killing himself and with the changes that he was going through as he transitioned from human to werewolf. Falor found him and befriended him, stuck by him during his first full moon, and even taught him how to shapeshift at will. In the time since their first meeting they had grown very close, to the point where—if one did not know any better—one would swear that they had grown up together.

Wolfsbane licked the last smears of blood from his fingers and ran a hand through his short raven hair. It doesn’t seem like we even left home that long ago, he said with a smile, his vivid green eyes sparking with joy as his tail continued to wag, and now the first leg of our journey is almost complete! Isn’t this exciting?

Honestly, Wolfsbane had never been so happy to travel anywhere in his entire life. Before, when he was human, traveling somewhere usually meant that he was going there to kill werewolves. He had been absolutely miserable as a werewolf hunter, and his former team mates—most of whom had been killed off during that last fateful job in Hanaga—had not exactly made things any better…especially his former team leader, Ren. Now that he had retired to the life of a simple roving adventurer, however, Wolfsbane was finally able to enjoy the open road. In fact, as of late he had just been enjoying life in general a whole lot more. Even his father’s adamant disapproval of his change in lifestyle had not been enough to ruin things for him in the end.

Inferno sighed and shook his head, the two long side-locks of his otherwise short dark brown hair that hung just before his ears bobbing against a face which seemed much too boyish for his seventeen years. "The only thing that I’m excited about is finally getting to sleep in a bed again, the slightly scrawny, brown-eyed youth said with a slight grimace. Last night, I woke up to use the bathroom and I found a millipede in my hair…" With that, he shuddered in disgust at the mere memory of the incident.

Inferno had never been out on the road before. While Wolfsbane had been traveling around as a werewolf hunter since he was ten, his younger brother had never even left their home county before. Unlike the rest of his siblings, Inferno had never become a werewolf hunter at all due to the fact that he was…less than adept…at physical combat or gunplay. Inferno’s strength, instead, lay in his gift for magic.

He was a genius with the ability to cast spells far above what most human mages his age were able to even understand. He had remained home, studying his magic and researching a vaccine to block the effects of being bitten or scratched by a werewolf in order to prevent the needless deaths of countless werewolf hunters. Unfortunately, he had opted to be the first human test subject for his vaccine…and had ended up being transformed into a being not quite a werewolf and no longer human. His human form could now only be maintained through the use of a special ring which he had forged for himself. In fact, the only reason why he was on the road at all was to find a way to complete his vaccine and become human again.

Uncle Falcon laughed. Hey, it could have been a slug in your undies, he said teasingly. Count your blessings, kid.

A…slug…? Inferno squeaked, shifting uncomfortably and pulling his white, green trimmed robe closed as if the weather had suddenly turned chilly.

Wolfsbane straightened the collar of thick black leather decked with star-shaped metal studs that he wore around his neck so that the round metal tag (which bore the name Wolfie engraved on the front and a pentagram inlaid in brass on the back) once again faced forward and nodded. "Yes. It does happen, he said, but not too often. Really, only if it’s been rainy, actually…"

Oh! Come on! Inferno groaned, Don’t invertebrates have any respect for other people’s personal space?!

Surprisingly, no, Falor sighed. "The little critters don’ care one bit about things like that at all. In fact, they tend ta think we’re the rude ones for not wantin’ ta touch ’em or let ’em walk across our bodies and food. One roach even called me stingy for not wantin’ ta let him crawl all over my piece o’ pie an’ take what bits he wanted! Go figure…"

So, you can talk to bugs too? Wolfsbane asked, Seriously? He had known that his friend was able to talk to animals, but he had no idea exactly what his limits were and had never really thought to ask.

Aye, some o’ them, Falor said with a nod, but they mostly talk about food, breedin’, an’ more food ta be honest. Not very contemplative creatures, bugs…

Not surprising, Uncle Falcon said. I never thought of flies as nature’s little philosophers.

The four of them laughed. Then Wolfsbane yawned. He was full and getting sleepy now. They had been running for most of the day…or, rather, Wolfsbane, Falor, and Uncle Falcon had been running while Inferno kept pace on his riding drake, Grimorum. Still, even with breaking for lunch and shapeshifting training around midday, they had still been on the move for hours on end.

As everyone got ready to bed down for the night, Inferno doused the campfire with a water spell. Afterward, Uncle Falcon laid down beside the rock that he had been leaning on and pulled his blanket over himself. Falor and Inferno took their blankets and settled in beside him as Wolfsbane retrieved Ranger from his pack.

He didn’t even remember packing the cuddly, two and a half foot long, off-gray stuffed wolf as he was getting ready to leave home. In fact, he had always left his beloved stuffy at home, only sleeping with him there, because he had feared losing him on the road. Oddly enough, the very first night that they had camped out Wolfsbane had reached into his pack to grab a blanket…and out tumbled Ranger. Falor had teased him a bit over the occurrence, and neither he nor Inferno had believed him when he had told them that he distinctly remembered leaving the stuffed toy on the pillow of his made bed right after he had finished packing and headed down to breakfast that morning. Uncle Falcon, however, had uttered nothing on the subject aside from a mischievous chuckle. Seeing as how the sly old wolf was the one who had given Ranger to Wolfsbane in the first place, maybe he knew something about this. If he did, however, he wasn’t saying a peep about it!

Once he had Ranger firmly in hand, Wolfsbane walked over and joined the others, curling up between his brother and Falor and clutching Ranger tightly. Then, after one final round of goodnights, they all began to drift off to sleep. After all, tomorrow was going to be a very busy day.

§§§

It was morning, but it was already beginning to get hot. The four of them had stopped at an old, abandoned one-room schoolhouse only about half an hour’s walk from Halborn’s city limits to allow Falor to change back to human form. Wolfsbane, however, had already changed back to his human form that morning before they had broken camp.

As a human, Wolfsbane was about six feet tall, about five inches taller than his younger brother…for now. His build was average, but fit and toned from years of training and combat, and his eyes were now a deep emerald green instead of the vivid true green that they were when he was in werewolf form. Aside from his prized collar (a gift from his uncle meant to replace the one that his father had burned long ago), he wore a sky blue T-shirt with a black paw print on the front, a pair of rugged tan pants equipped with numerous pockets, a well-worn pair of black steel-toed boots, and a semi-automatic pistol holstered at his hip…loaded with lead bullets, not silver.

Wolfsbane actually did not want to carry a gun at all. He had spent so many years of his life with one in his hand, killing people, that he would have preferred to be able to rely just on his hand-to-hand combat skills alone. In an ideal world, that is certainly what he would have done. Unfortunately, in the real world one had to be prepared for whatever situation might arise. Fists and feet were no good for long-range attacks or against enemies in armor or with thick skins, and so he carried a gun purely as back-up.

There he stood, leaning up against the crumbling, termite-eaten wall beside Uncle Falcon while Falor changed…which took all of thirty seconds. Wolfsbane’s own transformations had been steadily becoming smoother, swifter, and less painful with practice, but it still took him just over two and a half minutes to fully change from human to werewolf and changing back to human form was generally quicker than that by about thirty seconds. He was training hard to improve, especially now that he knew that the high endurance and flexibility of form which allowed him to change as often as he could at such an early stage was his gift. He was bound and determined to one day fulfill his potential and become a master shapeshifter…a theriomorph.

Once Falor finished changing, he stretched a bit and pulled his boots out of one of the magically deepened pockets of his loose-fitting, white pants. In human form, he was around the same height as Wolfsbane (maybe a fraction of an inch taller) with a similar build, dark brown eyes, and caramel brown skin. The only hint to his true nature in this form was his deep blue hair, which never changed with the rest of him. For some reason, most women found Falor very attractive in this form, which made for a devastating combination with his naturally charming personality. If Wolfsbane had not been aware of just how useless he was when it came to women before, seeing Falor in action had certainly made it clear to him exactly how much of a klutz he really was with the opposite sex.

Once Falor finished slipping his boots on, the three of them left the schoolhouse and met up with Inferno, who had decided to remain outside and keep Grimorum company. Riding drakes were not actually dragons, or even related to them. They were large, omnivorous, horse-like mammaliaforms with three-toed hooves, long reptilian tails, and large oblong ears. They were much bolder and less skittish than horses—with greater strength and endurance—and most people who chose them for mounts tended to be in some dangerous line of work, such as mercenaries, police, and werewolf hunters.

Inferno, however, had bought the white, green striped, blue eyed riding drake with the green mane—which he was now very carefully brushing so as not to get nipped by the beast’s sharp, sharp teeth—because he had been the only one at auction that no one had bid on. This, of course, was because Grimorum had a nasty attitude. In fact, he had even bitten off the thumb of one of his handlers at that very auction.

Wolfsbane remembered that well because it was the last time that the entire family had been together before his most recent trip home. They had all gone to the county fair together and their older brother, Silver, had laughed hysterically as the poor handler fell to the stage, gripping his bleeding hand and screaming in pain and terror as the riding drake casually ate the severed thumb. After the auction, the breeder had been making arrangements to put Grimorum down just as Inferno—fourteen at the time, but looking all of ten or eleven due to having been so short and scrawny for his age—had come to purchase him. He had begged and pleaded, and cajoled…and then finally simply broke down and threatened to curse the breeder with crippling gout in both feet if he didn’t sell him the riding drake. Ever since, Inferno and Grimorum had shared an…interesting …relationship.

Alright, Inferno, Uncle Falcon said, mount up. We’re hitting the road.

Right, Inferno said as he looked up and stopped brushing his drake’s mane, which caused Grimorum to snap at his hand and coo at him in annoyance. I’m sorry boy. I’ll brush you while we walk. I promise. Grimorum uttered yet another coo as Inferno mounted him, but seemed to calm down once the four hit the road again and—as promised—Inferno continued brushing his mane until the drake finally tired of being groomed and yet again snapped at his master’s hand.

They walked along at a leisurely pace, but the entire time Wolfsbane was fighting the urge to simply run the rest of the way. ‘No. None of that, Star-Runner,’ he thought to himself as they passed the Halborn, One Mile sign, ‘we’re too close to the city limits now. It’s time to play human.’

Chapter 2

The very first thing that they had to do once they got to Halborn was arrange for an inn room. Uncle Falcon brought them to a place called The Blue Parakeet, which was only about four blocks from the town’s HWL den. It was a cozy, rustic-looking place, with wood framed furniture upholstered in vivid turquoise blue, and curtains and throw rugs and various other room décor all in matching or complimentary shades of blue as well. Wolfsbane couldn’t help but think that this place fit in very nicely with the general cozy feeling of the rest of the city’s lakeside district, with its old-fashioned buildings and street vendors hawking their wares. As Uncle Falcon had put it, this area was the touristy part of town—a haven for vacationers and road-weary travelers alike.

They had just barely finished booking their room at the front desk when a young man’s voice suddenly sounded from behind them. Dad! Hey, Dad! the voice called cheerfully.

Immediately, Uncle Falcon sighed and shook his head. "Heeere it comes…" he muttered under his breath.

Huh? Wolfsbane asked as he, Falor, and Inferno turned around to see what was going on. There, standing at the bottom of the stairs, waving at them, was a young man who looked to be about Wolfsbane’s age. As soon as they turned around, he began to approach the group, grinning brightly. He was approximately six-foot-three, with the lean, athletic build of a professional dancer. His dark brown hair was cut short aside from the long, thin ponytail which trailed behind him and the unusual long bangs which hung toward the right side of his face, propped up by a bright red bandana. He wore a pair of road-worn blue jeans with a hole starting to form on the left knee, a green denim vest, a pair of dark brown leather bracers on his arms, and a white T-shirt printed with a pair of crossed battleaxes surrounded by fire on the front. As he came closer, Wolfsbane noticed that he looked pretty much exactly like a younger version of Uncle Falcon and he smelled…like a werewolf.

Long time, no see, Calvin, Uncle Falcon said as he turned around. Let me guess. You’re broke again.

Who? Me? Calvin asked, his medium brown eyes wide with feigned shock. "The first time we’ve seen each other in almost a year, and the first thing you do is assume that I need some money…Dad, I am hurt."

Oh, so you being here is just a total coincidence, huh? Falcon asked as he crossed his arms and raised his eyebrow.

Yeah! I was on my way to my next big expedition and I stopped in town to rest for the night, Calvin said, also crossing his arms. "But then I ran into a buddy of yours who said you’d be here in a few days and filled me in on a few…interesting details…so I decided to wait here until you came around so I could see you and finally meet my twusin Wolfsbane!"

‘So, this is my cousin Calvin?’ Wolfsbane thought, raising an eyebrow as he considered the newcomer. ‘Well, he certainly isn’t the quiet type…’

It was only recently that Wolfsbane and his siblings had learned that their cousins had even existed. Just like the fact that he was a werewolf, Uncle Falcon had kept the fact that he was married with children a tight secret for a good twenty-four years in order to protect them. In addition to Calvin, Falcon also had three daughters: nine-year-old Caitlyn, sixteen-year-old Catherine, and the oldest, twenty-three-year-old Caroline. Wolfsbane, his older brother Silver, and their twin elder sisters River and Flood, had already met Caroline due to the fact that she had also become a werewolf hunter using her mother’s maiden name, Magnus, in order to avoid suspicion. The revelation had been quite a bombshell—so much so that after a storm of other shocking revelations that night, that was the one which had finally sent Wolfsbane’s father into a state of catatonic speechlessness. He had never kept his wife and children in the dark about the other half of the family, though. His wife, Lana, put her foot down (and, according to him, her fingers to his earlobe) on that one.

…Twusin? Inferno asked.

Calvin turned to Inferno and nodded. Yep, he said with a self-satisfied smirk, That’s a cousin who’s born in the same year a week or less apart from you, so it’s sort of like being twins. Get it?

Ooookaaaay… Inferno said, raising an eyebrow. Uncle Falcon, you didn’t play with his soft spot when he was an infant, did you?

"Hey! I’ll have you know that’s an actual word and—Hey, wait…Did you just say ‘Uncle’ Falcon…?" Calvin asked, staring at Inferno in awe.

Yeah, Falcon laughed, patting his son on the back, Calvin, meet your cousins. The little guy in the mage’s robe is Inferno, the one with the collar is Wolfsbane, and the one with the blue hair over here is our good buddy, Falor. Guys, this is my bonehead son, Calvin.

It’s good to finally meet you, Calvin, Wolfsbane said with a smile as he extended his hand toward him in greeting, I’m gla— Suddenly, his sentence was cut short as Calvin launched himself at him and Inferno and grabbed them up in one of the tightest hugs that Wolfsbane had ever been given in his entire life. In fact, he could just barely breathe…

"Wolfsbane and Inferno?! Calvin exclaimed happily as he embraced them. Man! This is like a dream come true!"

Calvin! …Hugging…too hard! Inferno gasped as he struggled to get free. Can’t…breathe!

Calvin paused for a second, then let them go and laughed sheepishly. Oops. Sorry about that, he said as he rubbed the back of his neck, "I guess I got a little too excited. It’s just that I’ve been waiting, like, my entire life to meet you guys!"

Really? Us? Inferno asked as he caught his breath.

I can imagine, Falor said. It must’ve been hard, knowin’ ya had family out there and knowin’ who they were and where they lived, but not bein’ able ta actually visit.

You bet! Calvin said, All ’cause Uncle Hawk is such a tight-ass…

Well, you don’t have to worry about that anymore, Uncle Falcon said. The cat’s out of the bag, Calvin.

Really? Calvin asked. Like…how out are we talking…?

Out of the bag, but still in the house, he replied. I’ll tell you more about it later. Right now, though, we’ve gotta drop off our stuff and head over to the club. Let’s get moving, gang. With that, they began heading toward the staircase to the second floor.

Oh, great! I’ll go with you, Calvin said, following along. "I was paying for my room on your tab anyhow, so—"

Uncle Falcon stopped in his tracks and buried his face in his palm. "You were paying for your room on my tab?! he exclaimed. What the Hells?!"

Well, I’ve only got fifty pence to my name right now, Calvin said with a shrug. I spent my last few krowns on this really sweet tattoo and I need you to—

No, Calvin, Uncle Falcon said as he started walking again.

Aw, you didn’t even let me finish what I had to—

If I give you the money, you’ll waste the money and you’ll never learn.

"But I’m not asking you to just give me the money, Calvin said, I’m asking you to loan me fifteen hundred krowns."

A loan that I’ll never see again, Uncle Falcon sighed as they mounted the stairs now.

‘This is the most annoyed I’ve ever seen him in my life,’ Wolfsbane thought as he watched the scene unfold, ‘I thought that nothing could get under his skin like this…’

Yes you will! Calvin insisted. "I’m going to Mount Teratos to find that treasure, but there’s supposed to be a huge monster guarding it so I need the fifteen hundred to hire some mercs for backup. I promise I’ll pay you back double."

"I’m not giving you fifteen hundred krowns, Falcon said as they reached the second floor and started heading for their room, I’m not loaning you fifteen hundred krowns, I’m not summoning you fifteen hundred krowns, I’m not shitting you fifteen hundred krowns…Do I need to go on with this, or do you get the point?"

Wait…did ya happen ta say you were on yer way ta Mount Teratos? Falor asked.

Yeah, why? Calvin asked.

Well, we’re all headed south ta Wyvernly after this ta visit me ma, Falor said with a smile, but we were goin’ ta stop there on our way back north on the way ta Avalonia.

Wolfsbane nodded. You wouldn’t need the fifteen hundred krowns for mercenaries if you simply joined our party, he said. Besides, with all of the other adventures that we’re sure to have along the way, you’ll likely never be bored.

Really? You’re seriously coming along on my expedition? Calvin asked with a smile.

I wouldn’t do that if I were you… Uncle Falcon mumbled under his breath with a slight smirk as they reached the door to their room.

"Well, it would certainly help to balance our team, Inferno mused as Uncle Falcon unlocked the door and they walked in and began getting settled in. Wolfsbane is a decent all-around fighter and an excellent marksman, Falor is incredibly fast and knows a good deal about healing, I can hold my own with my magic, Uncle Falcon is…well, Uncle Falcon…and I’ve heard that you are rather skilled with a blade. Traditionally, both bands of heroes of legend and elite teams of combat specialists contain an expert mid-to-long-range fighter such as an archer, lancer, or gunman; a quick or stealthy member such as a thief, spy, or assassin; a highly intelligent member such as a weaponsmith, bard, or combat mage; an expert melee combatant, generally a swordsman, but masters of other disciplines are not unheard of; and the big, powerful individual who can lay waste to everyone and everything…aside from maybe the new enemy who shows up and beats said big, powerful individual up just to prove how much more powerful and evil he is than the previous foe. So far, we have a ranger, a speedster, a brain, and a powerhouse…but the blademaster position is still open."

Wolfsbane paused and stared at Inferno for a moment, as did everyone else. You…seriously thought that over? Wolfsbane asked.

Inferno turned to him and nodded. Of course, he said matter-of-factly. A team is most effective when each member’s strengths and weaknesses compliment and balance out those of the others. Any gaps or imbalances within the team structure could prove utterly disastrous in the event that the team encounters a dangerous or deadly obstacle or foe which none of its members has the skills to cope with. A balanced team is a strategically advantaged team.

"Dude, you make it sound like alchemy or something… Calvin said. Do you always talk like that?"

What do you—

Always, Wolfsbane, Falor, and Uncle Falcon said in unison.

"You say it as if it’s a bad thing," Inferno sighed as they resumed settling in and he placed his pack on one of the beds.

In this case, it’s not, Uncle Falcon said. "You’re right. A team needs to be balanced properly to be effective. Though, you could probably do better than Calvin for a blademaster…"

Hey! I might not be Cousin Silver, but I’m still really good! Calvin cried as Wolfsbane and Falor claimed their beds as well. "I mean, it’s not like he’s ever used a gunblade before!"

Wolfsbane perked up as soon as those words left Calvin’s mouth. "A gunblade? Really?!" he asked, his interest now piqued.

Gunblades were relatively new weapons which combined the melee capabilities of a sword with the long-range capabilities of a gun. They were originally created around twenty-five years ago for use by military personnel on the battle field. However, many of the earliest models were so difficult to use or prone to malfunction that the few armies which had adopted them soon abandoned them. That did not stop several enterprising weaponsmiths from working hard to refine the design of such weapons and make them more functional and practical, however. Because of that, newer, sturdier, easier to handle gunblades were soon introduced. Some of these weapons used traditional ammunition, while others were built to harness the energy from magicels or were made with special enchantments which allowed the wielder to shoot bullets of pure magic. Silver had never touched one, due to his distaste for the—as he called them—gaudy mix-and-match weapons which look like something that a hyperactive twelve-year-old boy would dream up. Even with all of the improvements over the years, however, gunblades still required excellent reflexes to handle properly—definitely not a weapon for an amateur.

Calvin nodded. Yep, he said with a smirk. Impressed?

Well, y— Wolfsbane began, only to be interrupted by Uncle Falcon.

Don’t be, Uncle Falcon said, The boy’s got a big enough ego as it is. It’s a wonder he doesn’t get it stuck in doorways on a regular basis.

Aw, come on, Dad! Why are you always busting my chops about stuff like that? Calvin said. "Just because you’re getting all old and junk…"

Is that so? Falcon said with a smirk, "Just for that, now you have to join us…and spar with your cousin Wolfsbane every morning before breakfast."

Huh? Wolfsbane said.

Spar?! Calvin exclaimed. You’ve gotta be kidding me!

"Well, you need the practice anyway, Wolfsbane, Uncle Falcon said, and Calvin, your hand-to-hand combat skills are probably rusty as all seven Hells from relying so much on that gunblade of yours. It’s win-win."

Aw, come on! Calvin cried. I’ll bet he already gets enough practice with Falor here. Right, Falor?

Uh, actually…no, Falor said. I’m no’ exactly inta all that. Besides, I may be able ta give Wolfie a run for his money in the speed department, but I’m not as strong as a werewolf. Stronger than a human, sure, but only by double, an’ I don’t have that whole fast healin’ thing either.

Inferno? Calvin asked.

Don’t look at me, Inferno said, shaking his head. "I have neither the coordination nor the physical strength to even stand a chance against a normal opponent in a hand-to-hand combat scenario. Even when Wolfsbane was still human, he could easily defeat me. I wouldn’t dream of attempting to spar with him now!"

Dad? Calvin asked.

"Yeah, but he’s getting too used to me, Uncle Falcon said with a smirk. I’ve been sparing with him since he was a little kid, he knows all of my moves. But you…"

Don’t worry, Calvin, Wolfsbane said teasingly, I’ll go easy on you.

Calvin paused and turned to Wolfsbane, all traces of his former reluctance suddenly gone at the mere hint of a challenge. "Easy?! On me?! Don’t make me laugh! he said. If you want a fight, Twuz, you’ve got it! No one goes easy on Calvin the Great, Hero for Hire!"

Wolfsbane laughed. Except for maybe Wolfie Star-Runner, Ace Adventurer, he said with a smile. He had a feeling that he and Calvin would get along quite well indeed.

Chapter 3

As the five of them walked those four blocks to Halborn’s HWL den, Wolfsbane couldn’t help but find himself constantly sidetracked by the numerous sausage carts and hotdog vendors and food stalls along the way. It was getting close to lunch time now, and the scents of all of the various meat dishes being sold here on the street were so strong that it took all of his willpower to keep himself from panting and drooling with desire. Hunger always brought his wolf side out more strongly. There had been moments in the past when he had nearly eaten a live chipmunk and considered common street pigeons as possible appetizers. Needless to say, these were not moments that he was particularly proud of.

From what he could tell, though, he was the only one being affected very much at all by all of the appetizing sights and smells around him. Uncle Falcon and Calvin walked through that gauntlet of temptations as if nothing was going on. Falor slowed briefly when they passed a vendor selling barbecued chicken on a stick, but was otherwise totally unaffected, and Inferno was unmoved mostly due to the fact that he had absolutely no animal instincts unless it was the night of the full moon.

‘We had better stop for lunch after this meeting,’ Wolfsbane thought as he continued on, whimpering silently and trying his hardest to play it cool as they rounded that last corner, ‘because walking past all of this food is killing me!’

Oh, come on! Let me in! a man’s voice yelled suddenly, distracting Wolfsbane from his own hunger pangs. What kind of crap is this?!

He looked up and saw a man, maybe in his mid twenties or early thirties, with short auburn hair and dressed and equipped for the road, glaring angrily at another man of about the same age—maybe a little older—with short, sandy brown hair and clad in a simple black and red uniform standing between him and the doorway to a building just up ahead. I’m sorry, the second man said calmly, but the Halborn Wayfarers’ Lounge is a private club. You have to either be a member or the guest of a member to enter.

Bullshit! the man cried as Wolfsbane and company drew closer. That’s some elitist bullshit! It’s fucking discrimination, man!

Hey, Harvey, Uncle Falcon said as they came to a stop by the door. Got another troublemaker?

The second man turned to Uncle Falcon and smiled. Falcon, long time, no see, he said warmly. Yeah. This guy’s been trying to get into the club for the past three hours straight. You know the deal.

Hey! If you’d just let me in, we wouldn’t have no problems! the first man said indignantly.

Harv, let me take care of this one, Falcon said, casually stepping between the two.

It’s all yours, Big Dog, Harvey said, leaning against the door frame and crossing his arms.

The first man put his hands on his hips, rolled his eyes, and said, "This old fart? Are you some sort of V.I.—"

Shut up, punk, Uncle Falcon said nonchalantly, looking the young man directly in the eyes. "Now, look, life’s not fair. Some guys are smart, some guys are strong, some guys are rich, some guys get it all or nothing at all. Some guys get to join cool clubs, some don’t. Now, you? With an attitude and a mouth like that, I’m frankly not surprised that no one’s letting you in. Maybe if you had been nicer to my friend here, I’d have invited you in, but I won’t, because from what I can see, you’re a giant dick. Now, either you get the Hells on, or I pick you up by the scruff of your neck, walk you down the street, and punt your candy ass into Lake Reechee. Got it?"

Hey, you’re not the boss of me old ma— Before the man could get another word out of his mouth, however, Uncle Falcon took one quick, sudden step forward, causing him to lose his nerve, stumble backward, and fall flat on his behind.

Now, get lost, Uncle Falcon said with a confident smirk as the younger man stared up at him with a combination of fear and awe.

Uh…yes, Sir! the young man said. S-sorry about that. I’m going now! With that, he scrambled back to his feet and backed away a few steps before running off down the street, nearly tripping a few times before he disappeared around the nearest corner.

Harvey whistled. Damn. You scared that guy good, he said. I’m surprised he didn’t wet his pants like the last one.

"Yes…what did you do to him, exactly?" Wolfsbane asked.

Nothing special, Uncle Falcon laughed, All I did was call his bluff.

Really? That’s it? Falor asked.

Uncle Falcon nodded. Well, yeah. What do you think I did? Put some kind of whammy on him? he said as he turned back around and started heading to the door. Come on. Desdon’s probably going nuts in there waiting for us.

Wolfsbane nodded and he, Falor, Inferno, and Calvin followed him inside.

Aside from the fact that it smelled of werewolves, there was really nothing very interesting about this place at all. The main room which they had entered was a large space with a bar to the right of the entrance, a seating area to the far left, and several tables and chairs in the center. Large wooden chandeliers hung on thick chains from the ceiling (complete with lights crafted to look like real candles) and a large bulletin board filled with fliers and notices dominated the far wall. There were maybe twenty or thirty people in the room all together, most of them dressed head-to-toe in black, all going about their business in the same manner as one would expect of hunters gathered at any IWHA hunter’s station. Some scanned the bulletin board for news or jobs while others relaxed and socialized or enjoyed a quiet nap, a meal, a drink…Everything seemed so normal.

The woman at the bar—a petite, attractive, young brunette in a pink dress with a low-cut neckline—turned toward them and smiled brightly as they drew near. Oh, hey, Falcon! she said cheerfully, I was wondering when you’d show up!

Nice to see you too, Sadie, Uncle Falcon said as Wolfsbane tried desperately to keep his eyes off of the young woman’s chest. So, what’s the situation with Desdon?

Oh, same old, same old, she sighed. He’s been coming in every day this week whining about how he can’t find a boyfriend and all morning he’s been bugging me, like, every five minutes to see if you’re in yet. So, what’s with the entourage? I thought you were just bringing your nephew and that friend of his, not your goober son too…

Goober?! Oh, don’t be like that, sweetheart, Calvin said, leaning in close to her against the counter and giving her a seductive smile. You know you want a little piece of Calvin Cheesecake…

Ew, Sadie said, rolling her eyes. "If you’re cheesecake, then whatever cow gave that milk needs to be shot in the face and ground up for burgers."

You know, I like them feisty… Calvin said as his father pushed him aside half playfully.

Uncle Falcon laughed and said, "Cool it, loverboy. She’s not interested. Sadie, I’d like to introduce you to my nephews Wolfsbane and Inferno, and our good friend—"

Falor Danek, Falor said, quickly swooping into the spot that Calvin had just been forced to vacate and kissing Sadie gently on the hand. It’s such a pleasure to meet you. It’s not every day that a man is allowed ta stand in the presence of a star plucked from the very heavens.

Sadie instantly blushed and smiled. Uh…well…nice to meet you too, she said, suddenly sounding much nicer than she had before. You’re, uh…pretty handy with the sweet-talk there…

No sweet-talk, Miss, Falor said, continuing to pour on the charm, Only truth.

Wolfsbane sighed and shook his head. ‘It must be great to able to talk to girls like that,’ he thought as he and Inferno sat down at the bar. ‘All that I can hope for is a pity cheek kiss…’

"Alright, that’s enough out of you too, Uncle Falcon said, pushing Falor back just as he had Calvin. I’m headed upstairs to report in. I’ll come down and get you guys when I’m through…so try to stay out of mischief while I’m gone."

Don’t worry, Uncle Falcon, Wolfsbane said with a smile, we’ll be on our best behavior.

As always, Falor said