The Weirdness(68)

“It is—hard to determine what happened next,” Jørgen says.

“From what I pieced together, it seems like the operation was sabotaged by mystic operatives who had infiltrated the coven. The three infants were taken from their witch-mothers, and put under the protection of—”

“Don’t say wards,” Billy says.

“Yes,” Jørgen says. “Wards.”

“Motherfuck it,” Billy says.

“Powerful wards, designed to both contain the wolf part—the Fenrissonr part—and to keep Lucifer away from the infants. And then I think the infants were smuggled away, and raised by the operatives, who tried to raise them normally. As normal children.”

“And here we are,” Elisa says. “Normal as blueberry pie.”

“Bullshit,” Billy says, his voice going wild and high. He says this less because he’s certain it’s bullshit and more because it’s just too much, finally too much, he can’t take on one more world-shattering revelation after every other thing that’s happened this week. “I mean, you could test this theory, right? Just ask your parents?”

“I cannot,” Jørgen says. “My parents are gone. Their house burned in an accident, five years ago.”

“Shit,” Billy says. “I knew that. I’m sorry.”

“Do not apologize,” Jørgen says, shrugging. “But I should tell you this detail. The first time I ever turned into a wolf was less than one month after they died.”

Billy has nothing to say to that, really. He turns to Elisa. “What do you think?”

Elisa claps her notebook shut. “I don’t know,” she says. “It’s pretty fucked up, but some of it fits. I was adopted, like I said. Also, my parents are both dead. They both contracted viral myocarditis two years ago, in Thailand. Aaand, the first time I turned into a wolf? Less than one month after they died. That’s a close fucking match.”

Billy takes in this information.

“So I might be adopted? My mother and father might have been—fucking—mystical secret agents or some shit?”

“That is what I am proposing,” Jørgen says.

Billy remembers his mother’s swords and his father’s books. He remembers all the voice mails he never listened to this week. “I should … call my dad,” Billy says, slowly, trying to remain as calm as possible. “Do either of you have a phone?”

“Well, yeah,” says Elisa, “but signal sucks here.”

They all sit there for a second in silence.

“I want a cigarette,” Elisa says.

“I want a drink,” Billy says. He wonders if there’s a minibar in this room somewhere. He figures, wearily, that there probably is, only each drink comes with a terrible cost.

“There is one last thing I can’t figure out,” Jørgen says, to Elisa. “You and I turned into wolves after our parents died. This suggests that our parents were probably maintaining the wards on us, secretly, throughout our lives. But”—he turns to Billy—“your father is still alive—and yet—”

“Yeah, no, the Devil tricked me,” Billy says. “He got the ward off me a different way. He—he used Ollard to do it. Which reminds me. Did the Devil fill you in on that whole part of the story? The deal with this guy Ollard? The guy who wants to, whatever it is, destroy the world?”

“I’m glad that you mention that, Billy,” says Lucifer, who is standing there, in the doorway, watching them. They all jolt and look at him. He’s a little dressier than Billy’s seen him before: he’s wearing a white tuxedo shirt, with French cuffs. Must be a big day. He has a garment bag slung casually over his shoulder.

“It’s good to see all three of you together,” Lucifer says, “and we’ll have ample time to enjoy one another’s company later. I hope you’ll forgive me for cutting the niceties short for the moment, however, as Mr. Timothy Ollard is still very much a pressing concern. He has dispelled the fifth of the seals that separate the Neko from this world, faster than I expected, and I can feel that he’s close to dispelling the sixth. By my sense of things, I would guess that we have less than a day left.”

“Fuck,” Billy says.

“Fortunately, my little cubs, we don’t need a day. We don’t need twenty-four hours; we don’t need twelve. We simply need to go to Ollard’s tower—”

“I can’t go back in there,” Billy says. “The last time I went in there I got tortured. He could have killed me.”

“Billy,” Lucifer says. “With all due respect, I would hope that you can see the difference between the last time you went in there, and this forthcoming time. Before you were a scared little man, with your potential tamped down deep within you, jammed in a box you’d never opened. But now—now you are something very different.”