Know Thyself: Thomas Hunter Files, #3

By Andrew Michael Schwarz

My cases aren't like normal cases. I find the secrets the occult world is likely to kill you for. Quit half way and you step into oblivion, misjudge and you might lose your mind. Paranoia is an occupational hazard. 

They say all roads lead to Rome and, in this case, so do all my clues. Nestled deep within the Vatican clergy—guarded by something with more tricks than Harry Houdini and possessing the moral conscience of a snake—are the answers I've been looking for, so long as I am willing to trade my soul. 

It's one thing to know when the antichrist has come, it's a whole other kind of crazy when he says he's your brother.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Andrew Michael Schwarz
• Release date: Oct 23, 2015
• ISBN: 9781519957290

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Know Thyself

Thomas Hunter Files Volume III

By

Andrew Michael Schwarz

Copyright © 2015 by Andrew Michael Schwarz

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof

may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever

without the express written permission of the publisher

except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

First Printing, 2015

Vorpal Blade Publishing

PO Box 383

Renton, WA 98057

www.vorpalbladepublishing.com

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As above so below, as within so without, as the universe, so the soul...

—Hermes Trismegistus

The leaves of memory seemed to make

a mournful rustling in the dark.

—Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Chapter 1

Coming back from the dead is none too easy, though I was getting used to it.

I had made my way back from San Ragita to Dax’s estate by means of a double, or magic-body. In fact, I had cavorted around for nearly two months in that magic-body with no cognizance of what it really was.

I’d had no idea that I was doing that, and the effect of it had been hard on me, causing severe bouts of acute amnesia. Thankfully, Sweet Jenny, AKA Conch, had appeared on the outskirts of San Ragita, found me drinking out of a brown paper bag, and asked a question I couldn’t answer: What’s your name?

That brought it all back: accident on the 101, exorcism of my crew, vacation in San Ragita, attempted murder of Bob. Then, waking up in a hospital of horrors, escaping and almost dying, getting amped up with the blood of a werewolf that had been slaughtered by Eva and realizing I’d been in two places at once. We came to understand that everyone else in San Ragita had been in their own natural bodies, under—more or less—their own free will, and were being used to raise an evil god from another dimension.

All in a day’s work, I suppose.

So there I was, in Chapel Perilous—that terrible condition where you can’t tell if a seemingly paranormal phenomenon is real or imagined—and I had lain down and gone to sleep in it. The weird shit that was happening to me could only be explained in one of two ways: it’s all real, or I’m a lunatic.

In the end, I was the only person who was bilocating, which means being in two places at the same time, in physical form.

There are cases on record of this. Done by monks who appear halfway around the world to save someone from drowning or other such things. A fellow by the name of Padre Pio, a uniquely devout Catholic priest, apparently had this down pat in the first part of the twentieth century.

The folks who took my crew must have known I had this ability—even if I didn’t. They would have noticed, after the exorcism, that my body never got up off the cot, and yet another, fresher me, made up of some kind of particulate matter that had fused together for a very convincing illusion, had appeared elsewhere in a quaint coastal village and began talking to people as though nothing had happened. Meanwhile, they had scuttled my real body away to that terrible sanitarium.

For me, it had been the perfect trap. The best way to get me out of the game.

The only question was: who was doing it?

And why hadn’t they just killed me?

When I sat up in that deluxe edition hospital bed in the middle of Dax’s living room, I was happy for a few reasons. One: my two best friends were there. Two: I hadn’t had to flop on the floor like a dying fish and hitch a ride underneath a garbage truck.

I was hungry. And not just for food. Therian enhanced bodies need so much more than that, but I had just been in a coma for two months and it was time for breakfast. Once Eva had helped me to my feet and I’d gone to the bathroom, I asked for takeout.

I’ll go into town and pick something up, Dax said.

I would love you forever, Dax.

Fuck you, you’ll love me forever anyway. How about Chinese?

That got me in two places. Sure, I said. Just don’t bring any Chinese waitresses back with you. I don’t think I could control myself.

Eva slipped her fingers through my hair and tightened her fist. Then she kissed me, hard. I’ve got you covered in that department, Hunter.

Well, don’t let me get in the way, Dax said as he turned and walked away.

Wait.

But he was already on his way out the door.

Eva circled me like a jungle cat. Once I heard the front door slam, I felt decidedly vulnerable. I became blatantly aware that, aside from a plush throw blanket around my waist, I was naked.

Um, Ev?

She shook her head and licked her bottom lip. You were gone a long time, she said, dangerously.

Yup, I agreed. Um, how long was it, exactly? I heard my voice crack.

Two months, Hunter. Two months you laid in that stupid hospital bed, growing weaker every day. Two months I sat here, tending you, cleaning you, keeping that heart monitor beeping with little drops of wolf blood. Two months, waiting for you to return. Two months of wondering when the blood would stop working and I would lose you forever.

Eva?

She kept circling me and I could feel her eyes rove over me, up and down, as though I were a meal.

I can only take so much, she said. A woman has needs.

Ah, I see. Now Eva, I’m very hungry and weak and—

So am I!

And then she was on me, pressing her lips to my neck, biting into my flesh, taking me down to the floor, her hands locked around me like steel girders. Blood sprayed up into her mouth and she gulped it. But she was only priming the pump. Would-be-murder became passion. Her legs locked around my pelvis. Then we lost all dignity.

Glass exploded, chairs toppled, the medical bed broke in two. Eva thrashed me like a doll, drew blood in gouts, gave it back in streams. And as long as she did that, we could go all night.

But it ended quickly, I’m pretty sure because she didn’t want Dax to see us like that.

When Dax returned, he set down four large plastic bags and, without looking up, walked back out. I ripped the bags apart and popped open the Styrofoam containers. I thrust my fingers into steaming rice, fragrant Kung Pao chicken, and greasy Szechuan beef. I didn’t bother to mix them, I just shoveled each container into my mouth and choked it down. I gulped down an icy Coke, then drank a quart of hot and sour soup.

By the third bag of food, and the second liter of Coke, I began to feel sated. I managed to eat another plate of deep fried spring rolls before the feast began to repulse me. And then I stumbled back, dripping with sauces and kernels of rice, caked with dry blood. I looked at Eva and burped.

You want some?

We both laughed.

Hunter, go and take a shower!

I worried about clogging up Dax’s drain, but was relieved when all the food and fluids sailed quickly down past the pop up plug. I knew Eva had taken care to sponge bathe me when I had been out, and she had done a damn good job, all things considered, but there is nothing like a shower after two months. I took an hour. I usually take ten minutes. I kept daring Dax’s hot water reserve to give out, waiting for the cold shock, but at last the water heater won.

I toweled off and examined myself. The wonders of therian life were alluring. I was toned and hairy, but hairy only in the places a man wants to be. For instance, there was no back hair, and for that matter, no butt hair either. Chest hair grew like a well planned garden, pubic hair was, well, stylish. My muscles were excellently rendered; not bulky. I had a nice broad chest with well developed pecks and tight abdominals. My body was how I had always wanted it. Even with my crew, as awesome as they were, I hadn’t had these bonuses.

I wondered why I didn’t stay that way. I knew how to do it. I would have to mate with a wolf. Sounds weird. I would have to mate with a wolf therian, preferably a female wolf therian. I would have to drink from her and let her drink from me. Like some kind of Old World dialysis. I knew this instinctively. And when our blood was completely transfused, I would Be. Irrevocably and forever.

I should just do it. I knew very well that, had I not had my crew all these years, I would have become like Dax. I had always known it. But with the crew, I’d had the power and the ability without having to make the eternal commitment.

Well, perhaps I was eternally committed anyway, what with the nature of my crew—if I ever got them back—and the fact that my friends were probably never going to let me die, but it was one of those things: I didn’t want to have to sign up. But here it was standing right in front of me, the solution I had always needed. A solution that now seemed so much more simple. A direct path to everything I wanted. Eva had done it. That still stung me with wonder. Eva had done it all for me?

I knew the truth of it. No one does it all for someone else. Not even Eva. She made a show of taking care of me—always had—she’d made me her life’s work, so to speak, and she loved me. I knew this very well. But she had done it for herself, too. She had wanted it. I had seen it in her eyes every time she asked about Dax. Is he a vampire? I had answered that question so many times, and still she had wanted to know more.

I had a dream, she had said once. I dreamt we were drinking each other’s blood, only I was drinking more than you and you got mad.

Serves you right, I said.

And so I left you there and I went into town and went crazy on the people there.

Where? I asked.

She shrugged. I don’t know, but I just couldn’t stop. I mean I was so thirsty, and I kept drinking from the people, from men and women and little kids, but nothing satisfied me. I wanted it from you.

You’ve been reading too many of those books, I said.

Have you ever wondered what it would be like?

What?

To actually drink another person’s blood?

Messy, I’d imagine.

Those wonderings had been her darkest desire, her inner most want. And when I had given her the excuse she’d needed to go and do it, she had seized the opportunity. The only difference was that real vampires, as opposed to the ones in the movies, didn’t need to kill for their blood. They drank from pigs or willing initiates. One could thank the movies for creating the culture, but if Dax was to be believed, his devotees were lining up to donate long before modern entertainment popularized the lifestyle.

I left the bathroom, clouds of steam trailing behind me, and walked naked into our room. I put on a pair of pajama bottoms and a T-shirt, then I went downstairs where I downed two quarts of pig’s blood. Dax kept it cold in the fridge. That quenched my thirst on par with Gatorade and coconut water.

When I returned from the kitchen, Eva was waiting for me at the top of the stairs. She was carrying a blanket under her arm. Her wispy nightgown fluttered around her half naked body. Then behind her, creeping like a shadow, I saw him.

Oh, Evie! You— I almost teared up—well, technically, I did tear up, but who wouldn’t?

I sat down on my heels as a beautiful Russian Black named Charcoal came trotting up. He leapt into my arms and purred like a happy engine. I cradled him as if he were a baby. His iridescent feline eyes stared adoringly up at me.

It occurred to me that he was not at all nervous that I was part wolf, nor did I want to eat him, which made me pretty happy considering Charcoal was one of my best friends.

I can’t believe you brought him, I said.

As if I would leave him behind? Christ, he’s the only thing that’s kept me sane through all this.

I let him down and as he rubbed against my leg, Eva grabbed me and drew me to her, kissing my lips and neck.

Let’s go outside. She took my hand and dragged me toward the door.

She was so different. Feral, therian. It was changing her, making her something of a mistress, and making me take her seriously for the first time.

Outside, the scent of eucalyptus and pine in the fresh air invigorated us. We walked past the dogs, who raised their heads and wagged their tails but did not get up. Charcoal dutifully kept pace beside us.

Did he always do that? I asked. And don’t these dogs want to eat him?

A funny thing happens when a therian owns a pet, she said. Charcoal is way more under my control than he ever was. He sort of transmits my will. Well, to a degree. He’s still a cat, after all.

Hmm, I said. He’s a real Familiar now.

Exactly.

We walked down the overgrown road into the forest. She pulled me under the big gnarled oak and kissed me feverishly, already