The Good Wolves

Chapter 17

The next morning, I eagerly anticipated my meeting the wolf from the woods. I woke up early because I had to walk to Calvin's house, and I had to get there before he needed to leave for school.

I wore jeans and a long sleeved red shirt with a leather jacket, and headed to the door before Lupe or Gerald woke up. I grabbed my weapons and left.

I was fortunate to remember how to get to Calvin's house, and glad that he didn't live too far.

"Hey," Calvin said when I knocked on the door.

"You forgot to put me on the schedule," I told him.

"I know," he sighed, opening the door all the way to let me in.

Calvin walked groggily over to the couch and picked up his backpack. I watched him straighten his collar.

"He's in the basement," Calvin said. "Try not to talk to him too much. He's slippery."

"Slippery?" I asked.

"You'll see," he frowned slightly. "I'll be back around 3:30, okay?"

"Yeah, I'll see you then," I said.

Calvin opened the door up again to walk outside. He took his first step onto the front porch, and turned back to look at me. "Good luck," he said. And then he was gone.

I stared at the basement door, clenching my sweaty fists and taking a deep breath. Mustering all the courage I could, I started walking down the stairs to the basement. I knew that he was probably listening to the sound of my footsteps, and probably my heart rate.

When I reached the bottom step, I got a good look of the basement. The large space was hardly lighted, with hard concrete walls. In the middle of no where, a square room with one door appeared.

I opened the door slowly, and saw him in the corner, on the floor. He was tied up with wolfsbane ropes, and sweat leaked off his forehead. He smiled a little when he saw me, and let his head fall back against the wall.

"What's your name, honey?" He asked.

I ignored him and took a seat on the long bench across from him. I sat my gun on my lap, but let it remain facing his direction.

"Not gonna answer?" He asked, faking curiosity with his facial expression.

"How about you tell me yours first?" I twirled my gun.

"Oh," he said dramatically. "How rude of me. I'm Knox."

"Lana," I said, unamused.

"Pretty name," he mumbled, sitting up a little and wincing.

"Hurt?" I asked.

"A little," he said. "Are you nicer than my new friend Calvin?"

"I wouldn't advise finding out," I answered.

"Scary," he smiled handsomely. "How about you let me out of these wolfsbane ropes and we can talk more about you?"

"Funny," I said monotonously.

"Gee, you're bold for a human. I could rip your throat out with my teeth if I wanted. Oh, but you've got such a pretty neck."

I looked at him with a blank expression. He was trying to get a reaction out of me and I definitely wasn't going to let him.

"Did my friend Calvin tell you anything out our conversation yesterday?" He asked.

I didn't answer. I put my gun flat across my lap and stared down at him on the floor.

"How's Amelia?" Knox asked.

"Did Calvin tell you about her?" I asked.

"No," he laughed. "Amelia and I go way back. I hear she pretended not to know me, though. That really hurts right here," he touched his heart and faked a sad expression.

"I don't need to hear about Amelia," I said, even though it had peaked my curiosity.

"I'm 20," he thought aloud. "That would make Amelia 17 now, right?"

I pretended to yawn in order to show him that I didn't care. He smirked.

"Amelia and I used to go out," he continued. "It was two years ago. She was a freshman. I was a senior. It was a little scandalous."

"I bet you're enjoying yourself in here, aren't you?"

"I believe Calvin and Amelia started dating three years ago," he said, and brought his hand up to his mouth. He feigned shock. "Amelia was dating Calvin while she was having sex with me? Oh, what a disgrace!"

"Did you have fun telling Calvin all this?" I asked.

"I had no idea he didn't know," he said sarcastically. "So, when is Amelia going to watch me?"

"She would have been watching you Thursday, but I think you've already ruined any chance of seeing her," I told him.

"What a shame," Knox shifted uncomfortably and looked at me. "What's your story, honey?"

"I hunt vermin," I said.

Knox responded, "You're a hunter working for werewolves? That must be pretty depressing."

"I'm not working for them. I could kill them whenever I want."

"Then why don't you?"

"Because they're not murderers who go around killing people for no reason," I said.

"Who ever said it was for no reason?" He asked, and his face immediately fell, as if he realized he shouldn't have said anything.

"What was that?" I asked, and he was silent for the first time. "Tell me."

He looked up at me and shrugged. I stood up and walked over to the corner, where he sat in a crumpled heap, restrained by the poisonous wolfsbane. I grabbed him by the shirt collar with one hand, and punched his face with the other.

"What was that?" I asked loudly, punching him again, and then two more times.

"Oh," he laughed, blood filling his mouth. "I've missed having hunters around."

I wound my first back behind my head, and delivered one final punch, knocking him unconscious.