"That's enough of the demonstrations," Jeremy said. "Right now, I'd like to learn more about these men who stalked Elena."
"I heard about that," Adam said, grinning at me. "The first casualty of war. Way to go. I'm jealous."
"You would be," Paige said.
Ruth glanced at the two with a look 90 percent exasperated affection and 10 percent gentle warning. They shut up as quickly as if they'd received a tongue-lashing. Ruth paused, as if making sure they were going to be quiet, then began her story.
AGENDA
Five weeks ago, a shaman had been kidnapped and had contacted Kenneth via astral projection-whatever that was. By the time he contacted Kenneth, he was in rough shape. A shaman was never physically strong to begin with, so it didn't take much rough treatment to injure one-or so Ruth explained. Because of his weak condition, his report was patchy and at times incoherent. From what Kenneth could make out, the shaman had been kidnapped by two men and taken to a compound a full day's drive from his home in Virginia. There, two other men had questioned him about his powers and abilities. In the early days of his captivity, the shaman had enough strength to astral-project through the compound at night, searching for clues about who had captured him and why. He'd learned the names of the two men who'd questioned him, Lawrence Matasumi and Tyrone Winsloe. Winsloe's name meant nothing to the shaman or Kenneth. Apparently knowledge of current events didn't rank high in shaman priorities.
While this shaman had been astral-projecting, he'd found that he wasn't the only supernatural being in the compound. His captors had a teleporting half-demon-likely Houdini-on their staff. He also heard that a sorcerer was assisting them, though he never saw the man. As for the other captives, when he first astral-projected, he found a witch, two half-demons, and a Vodoun priest. Then the witch disappeared and he learned that another, stronger witch had been targeted to take her place.
That was all the shaman knew. He'd promised to contact Kenneth again the next day but never did. When Kenneth conveyed the information to Ruth, Paige recognized Winsloe's name and used the Internet to track down Lawrence Matasumi, a renowned parapsychology researcher.
"Have you had any luck finding these men?" Jeremy asked when Ruth finished.
"Find them?" Adam said. "Hell, no. We figured we'd hide out and pray they don't find us."
"Actually, we've been debating that very matter," Ruth said, ignoring or missing Adam's sarcasm."Have we?" Adam said. "I thought it was decided. Reactive, not proactive. That's our way. Well, it's the way of the witches, and since they lead these meetings-"
"Why, Adam," Paige said, "are you expressing an interest in a greater leadership role? More responsibilities?"
He only grinned. "Perish the thought. I was only saying that, as our esteemed leaders, the witches generally make such strategic decisions, and they've decided we're ducking for cover."
"We need to discuss the matter further," Cassandra said. "This is a new situation for us. We've never had to worry about finding those who threaten us. If someone thinks they have proof of vampires, they aren't interested in exploring the intricacies of our lives. They're calculating how much money they'll get in the book deal. Finding them isn't a problem. They're waving big red flags saying, 'Find me, please'-find me and make me rich."
"But with these guys it's different," I said. "So, different threat, different response, right? They're hiding, so you need to find them."
"And do what?" Paige asked. "Ask them to stop harassing us?"
Jeremy looked at Ruth. "If we find the threat, we eliminate it. That's our way."
"Sign me up," Adam said.
"We are going to take action," Ruth said. "You know that, Adam, although our idea of action may not match yours. This is a serious threat, and I'm not comfortable even gathering here to discuss it. No matter how careful we were in setting up this meeting, we have seven supernatural beings in one place, each of whom these men would love to collect."
"Is that what they're doing?" Jeremy asked. "Collecting?"
"We aren't clear on their motives," Ruth said. "That wasn't something Roger-the kidnapped shaman-was able to determine. From what he observed, we gather that they're studying us, trying to get to the root of our powers."
"So they can find a way to use them for themselves," Paige said.
Ruth frowned. "We aren't sure of that. I don't like jumping to conclusions, but yes, that would seem to be a viable motivation. The presence of Lawrence Matasumi on their team would suggest strong scientific interests."
"And the presence of Ty Winsloe means someone's expecting to cash in big time," Paige said. "Winsloe's no philanthropist. The guy wouldn't cross the road to save an old lady unless she'd leave him her estate for his inconvenience."
A small frown from Ruth. "Perhaps. The point is, though, that they seem to want to harness our powers. For personal gain or in the name of science, it doesn't matter."
"They can't get my powers," Adam said. "Strictly hereditary."
"You sure about that?" Paige said. "Maybe if they take you apart, organ by organ, they can find exactly what in your physiological structure gives you these powers. Of course, whether they found it or not wouldn't matter much to you, since you'd be in a bunch of little autopsy bags."
"Nice visuals, Paige," Adam said.
"The point is," Ruth said, "we don't know what they can get from us. Some things, like minor spells, can be learned. As for becoming a werewolf or vampire, that's a frighteningly simple matter. What if these men began selling the ability to become a werewolf?"
"Hope they wouldn't charge much," I muttered.
"I'm sure plenty of people would see the advantages to superhuman strength," Ruth said.
"Not to mention prolonged youth," Paige added. "You'd have morons lining up ten deep for that one. The latest alternative to plastic surgery: Become a werewolf."
"The point is," Ruth said, again, "that by having the ability to do these things, to freely-or not so freely-distribute these powers, these men could upset the balance of nature. People would die. Humankind would be at risk, threatened by the worst kind of excesses, immortal dictators, spell-casting tyrants, serial killers who could take the form of wolves-"
"Been there, done that," I murmured low enough for only Jeremy to hear. A smile sparked in his eyes, but he kept his face impassive.
"We have to think beyond ourselves," Ruth said.
"Do we?" Cassandra asked. "I know that's how you feel, Ruth, but I'm not terribly concerned with protecting humankind from self-destruction. I care what this threat means to me. If you tell me these men want to kidnap me, that's a good enough reason for me to take this seriously. The question is, what are we going to do about it?"
That certainly was the question. And we spent the next seven hours discussing it, sending Adam and Paige out to get lunch at one and barely stopping the debate long enough to eat.
So what was Ruth's plan? Well, step one was for each delegate to notify his or her fellow monsters. Sounds simple and logical, right? Of course, Jeremy would notify the rest of the Pack. He'd never dream of doing otherwise. Now that he realized the extent of the danger, he'd tell Clay to join us right away. That done, he'd only need to make one other phone call. Two deaths in last year's skirmish with the mutts had reduced us to a pack of five. Besides Clay, Jeremy, and myself there were only Antonio Sorrentino and his son, Nick. There were always a half-dozen or so mutts trying to get admitted to the Pack, and with our diminished numbers, Jeremy was considering two or three, but he was in no rush to make a decision, so for now we were five. Two easy phone calls. But that wasn't what the witches wanted. They wanted us to notify the mutts. Say what? As Jeremy explained, mutts were nomadic. Territory was for the Pack. Only one mutt had territory, and that was a special arrangement. Then Ruth wanted us to notify this particular mutt and let him contact the others. Okay. Sure. I could see it now. I'd call Karl Marsten, ask him to pass on the word to his "fellow mutts" and he'd laugh himself into a stomach rupture. He'd still be laughing when he hung up on me.
Ruth didn't understand how things worked. Like us, the witches had a small central group, which they called the Coven. More witches lived outside the Coven than in it, like the Pack and the mutts. Outside witches were considered an inferior class, like the mutts. But, unlike us, witches didn't admit the others were inferior. Oh, no. According to Ruth, outside witches were poor misguided souls in need of protection and conversion. She reminded me of an early Christian missionary talking about Native Americans, and I noticed Paige squirming as her aunt spoke. Unlike missionaries, though, Ruth didn't want these outside witches to join their "church"-their Coven. Oh, no. They only wanted them to live good and proper lives on their own. The Coven was special.If we thought the logistics of notifying werewolves was tough, informing vampires and half-demons was almost impossible. Cassandra knew where to find all of the couple dozen living (should I say existing?) vampires, but she had zero interest in apprising all but a handful and made it clear that she wasn't wasting her time on such a ridiculous task. Let the others look after themselves. As for half-demons, there were apparently over a hundred in North America alone, about 50 percent of whom, if notified, would be lining up to apply for jobs with the enemy.