Her Perilous Wolf - Julie Steimle (types of ebook readers TXT) 📗

you saw the mouth when no one else could.”

Audry shrugged.

The man then asked something else. Luis translated. “Have you ever seen witches before?”

Stunned, Audry nodded. “Yeah. My last roommate in New York city was a confessed witch.”

They drew in breaths.

“She said she was leaving her coven,” Audry explained, going paler. “But I’ve never seen anything like that until…”

Juma reached out to her. “You lived with a witch?”

Audry huffed. “I knew her before I knew you. For years, in fact. But I just thought it was hokey nonsense.”

Surprised, the men exchanged glances.

Juma poked her bullet on the necklace. “This protected you from her.”

Audry rolled her eyes. “Actually—”

“No,” he said. “It did. As long as you wore it, she could not hurt you.”

But that was nonsense. If anything, Silvia had been motivated to spend more time with her because she saw that bullet. Before then, she hardly paid her any attention. Of course, Audry knew the reason now.

The witchdoctor spoke and Luis translated, explaining that some African witches have mouths on their back, and sometimes on the back of their heads, sometimes lower on their back.

“My witch friend did not have a mouth on her back or neck,” Audry protested.

That answer translated for him, the old man smiled at her and it was relayed back through Luis, “No, but your eyes have been opened. That makes you dangerous, and yet also powerful.”

The witchdoctor then beckoned Audry to come with him back to his home.

All of them (Juma, Sefu, Luis, and Akachi) went with her—not so much for her protection, but to keep her from being frightened. Once there, the witchdoctor went about making a charm for Audry—another one specifically for her protection.

While they were in the hut, Audry breathing in the unusual pungent scents of herbs and oils, an impression swept over her. If this man combated witches, then he was an authority on supernatural things. So she asked, “Um… so you have witches in Africa. Uh, do you have things like elves and fairy folk and vampires?”

Hearing Luis’s translation, the witchdoctor paused in winding colorful threads around the neck of the charm, impressed with the sincerity of her question. He replied through Luis, “We have our own kind. But they are similar. You are having an awakening, I think. Most westerners walk with closed eyes. They only see what they want. But you. You are now seeing.”

Audry cringed. It was as Rick had said, though different. He said it was best to be ignorant of the supernatural, as it left you alone if you could not see them. What was she to do now? She was seeing things unsought for now. Gremlins, weird people, now African witches. Even Silvia said this was dangerous.

“You have changed, Jabari,” Juma mused aloud, “You used to only believe in science and your blind eyes. What happened to you?”

She scratched her forehead, cringing. What could she say?

The witchdoctor handed her the charm. It was like the evil eye charm Juma had, but even now she could feel the magic in it. It wasn’t as powerful as the magic in Silvia’ shadow spell. That spell had wrapped around her like a cocoon. This was more like wearing a hanging mosquito repellant. It might drive away danger, but it would not conceal her.

“Ife, what happened?” Juma asked again.

Shivering, she was not sure what she ought to say.

Crucial Conversations

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

                         

 

 

Chapter Six

 

Vincent had made several attempts to set up an appointment with Michael Toms by phone from his hotel, but he ended up getting the telephone runaround. Michael was either booked up for the day or gone—those on the phone line said. So Vincent did the next best thing, he contacted the father. Luckily, Edmund Nicholas Toms was in and open to discussion. They would have lunch.

The restaurant where they agreed to meet was one Vincent only knew by reputation. His grandfather had praised it repeatedly. It was in a sky rise, top floor. It gave a beautiful view of the city. Mr. Toms arrived earlier than Vincent who had difficulty getting an Uber and was unfamiliar with San Diego. When he stepped off the elevator to enter the restaurant, he drew in a breath and repeated in his head what he had to say.

The waiter led him to the table. 

On approach, Mr. Edmund Toms glanced Vincent up and down with mild approval then he rose and shook his hand. “A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Williams. I had thought our companies’ last meeting would have been the end of discussion between us, considering the sore tone which seemed to arise in the end of it. It is a shame Mr. Bruchenhaus did not come himself. I venture to guess this meeting is your idea. Am I right?”

Vincent nodded. “Yes sir. Though my grandfather is still hopeful some kind of arrangement can be made for us to do business.”

Mr. Toms perked up. “Grandfather?”

Vincent nodded. “Yes. I generally represent my grandfather at parties and gatherings which he is too busy to attend.” Yet he hastily added, “However, I sought out this meeting. My grandfather is currently wary about attempting another business arrangement, um, due to a degree of interference from your son.”

The businessman across the table slowly nodded. He sighed. “Yes… I supposed that was how he saw it.”

Clearing his throat, Vincent said, “Can I meet with your son? Clear out any misunderstanding—”

But Mr. Toms shook his head gravely, as if such a meeting would be a waste. “Michael is currently engaged in, uh, training for a program he is highly invested in. He’s not as engaged in business within the company, per se.”

“And yet he seems to have the final say,” Vincent murmured, thinking on what his grandfather had said.

Mr. Toms raised his eyebrows.

“My apologies,” Vincent added, wondering how he was going meet up with Michael, “But that is how my grandfather sees it.”

Nodding with another sigh, Mr. Toms rose. “I guess this means we are at an impasse.”

Startled, Vincent rose also. “Really? And why is that?”

“Do you want an honest answer?” Mr. Toms eyed him carefully.

“Always.” Vincent’s heart thundered in his chest. He could feel the opportunity slipping through his fingers. He had to grab hold of something or he would lose it forever.

“Michael thinks your grandfather is unethical,” Mr. Toms explained plainly. His expression was sorry, but only just.

Vincent blushed. He could neither confirm nor deny that. His grandfather did not include him in business decisions. The man was more inclined to include Henry in those things. Vincent realized he was mostly the ‘good face’.

“And my son objects most particularly to your grandfather’s attempts to, um, damage our business relationship with Deacon Enterprises.” Mr. Toms interlocked his fingers together, yet did not step away from his seat. He seemed to be waiting for a rebuttal.

Slowly shaking his head, Vincent decided to skip all the small talk. He needed to get to the real reason he was there—and here was his window. “I see. Well, then, can I ask one thing?”

Mr. Toms nodded politely.

“About Deacon Enterprises,” Vincent said, taking care to keep his tone friendly. “Uh, I actually happen to have an acquaintance with Rick Deacon, and—”

Mr. Toms held up a hand, eyes widening. “You call him Rick?”

Vincent nodded. “Yes. You see, he actually knows my cousin Audry very well, and uh… he sort of, um, revealed a family secret to her and myself this summer—if you get my meaning.”

He watched the businessman’s eyes widen even more. Mr. Toms went pale, comprehending indeed. He also sat down heavily in his chair. Vincent did as well, not as heavily. This was all the proof he needed that they were aware the Deacons werewolves.

Lowering his voice to a whisper and leaning a little over the table, Vincent explained, “I just want to know the truth. I ran across a website about the SRA and—”

“Did you tell your grandfather this?” The man grew increasingly alarmed.

“No.” Vincent shook his head. “Are you crazy?

The man nodded, “Sometimes I think I am. Please continue.”

Going again, Vincent explained, “Ok, so I ran across the SRA website while looking for answers, and I saw your son’s name there. Now, I just want to know if that is him, or someone else.”

Mr. Toms nodded slowly to himself. He was staring into space, but then let his gaze rest on Vincent. He nearly whispered, “What do you intend to do with this information?”

Shrugging, Vincent replied, “I need someone to talk to about all this. I’ve heard that I can’t trust the SRA, that they are dangerous fanatics who hunt ‘monsters’.” He made air quotes. “But at the same time, who else can give me a clear answer about what I’ve witnessed?”

“I see…” Mr. Toms drew in a calmer breath. He peeked around to see if anyone was paying them any attention, even idle attention. He didn’t notice any if there were. “So you arranged this meeting so you could meet my son.”

Vincent nodded.

He saw a smile spread on Mr. Toms’s face. The man lifted a finger, calling over the waiter to order food. “Let’s have lunch first.”

Confused, Vincent opened his mouth to object, thinking mostly that he did not want to muck about. And yet with the older CEO no longer alarmed, it was possible he would get what he needed. He closed his mouth and went along with it.

After ordering plates of fish, salad, and a side of buttered rice, Mr. Toms struck up the conversation again. “So, you set this up to meet my son to ask about what exactly? About the SRA or what Howie Deacon told you?”

Howie. Audry had once mentioned that people from Rick’s hometown called him that. Mr. Toms was most definitely familiar with the man.

“Um, well, both actually.” Vincent paused, watching the waiter go. “I want to protect my cousin Audry, who had somehow gotten mixed up in all this supernatural stuff. I mean, she had a roommate that was a self-proclaimed witch, and—”

“Woah! Whoa!” Mr. Toms held up his hand. “What? Who?”

Vincent sighed. “Silvia Lewis. She’s married now, and they are no longer rooming together—Silvia, I mean. But I just need to know what I’m—”

“Wait.” Mr. Toms put down his fork. “Do you mean Silvia Smith? Daniel Smith’s sister?”

Vincent frowned. “She goes by Silvia Lewis, though I do think she has a brother named Daniel Smith. Audry knows him as well.”

Mr. Toms shook his head. “Oh, boy. Your cousin really is in the thick of it then. Where is she now?”

“Africa.”

The man’s brows raised. “Africa? What is she doing in Africa?”

“She’s an animal rescue worker,” Vincent said with a shrug, glancing once more to where the waiters were going in and out. He was feeling hungry, his stomach starting to make gurgles. “She tends to go to Africa to clear her head. But I think right now she is helping to get rid of poachers in Kenya or Tanzania. She’s got friends there.”

Nodding, clearly more stunned about Audry handling poachers, Mr. Toms said, “Ok, you were saying…”

Vincent tried to get back his train of thought, “I was saying… um, I wanted a clear picture of what is going on. I can’t just watch a prominent business man transform into a wolf and back, and then blow it off the way he wants me to.”

“Blow it off?” Mr.