Grimm Wolf - Julie Steimle (fantasy novels to read .txt) 📗

time,” Daniel said, gesturing for the other two to get into the ambulance. Rick was now on his back on a stretcher, staring at the ceiling. The driver stared dazed, as he was also a little drunk. James shoved the driver into the passenger seat, taking up the wheel. “He needs a blood transfusion.”

Tom rumbled up on the motor bike, leaving the keys in the ignition. It was a wonder what had taken him so long to get there, though. He hopped off and quickly jogged across to their group as that second policeman opened his mouth for one more objection. Tom slapped an arm around the policeman and said, “You don’t want to cause an international incident with a rich CEO’s son dying from a wolf attack, do you?”

“Rich CEO?” The policeman paled.

The other one nodded, turning over the card and examining the email address and phone number on it, along with a website.

Gesturing to the closing ambulance doors, Tom said, “That’s Howard Richard Deacon the Third right there. One of the most powerful men in the world… who can sue the entire country of Germany, let alone a small town like Cochem to bankruptcy—if he wanted—over a mere dog bite.”

“Was?” The nervous policeman looked like he was about to soil himself. His partner tugged on his arm to move.

“Get out of our way,” Tom said, looking the man into the eyes. His own glowing orange eyes were like staring into hot coals. “And deal with the real crime.” Tom pointed to the mountain.

The ambulance pulled away just then, all doors closed. Tom darted after it. With one leap on his quick feet, he jumped, grabbing the handle to the door and then pulled through the solid metal and glass as if they were made of gelatin.

Rubbing his eyes, both policemen stared after them. As the darkness enveloped the ambulance, taking it from their sight, both men drew in breaths as flash photography continued from tourists about. One rubbed his eyes again, assuming he had merely been hallucinating. He then went into the eating establishment for a beer. The other stared up at the castle where a group was already gathering up a fire brigade to quench the flames, screaming they did not want them to reach the trees.

The tourists around him stared, wondering what had blown in and blown out… though a few locals ran in panic to the blazing castle which could now be seen from the town.

Smoke lifted onto the air… strangely with a scent of garlic.

 

“That was too easy,” James murmured as they rumbled in the ambulance toward the town where their driver informed them he had come from.

Rick shook his head, feeling weak as he lay on the stretcher. James was treating the rest of his wounds as best as he could with the materials in the ambulance, bandaging what he could and cleaning everything with alcohol and iodine. They each removed the rest of their armor and packed them into their bags, hiding their swords back into their secret expandable pockets which no ordinary mortal eye could detect. Rick’s honey-coated backpack had been shoved into a body bag and then pushed again into a duffle bag they had found in the ambulance. The only thing they did not have for Rick was clothes.

“I’ll get you some,” Tom said.

“I really don’t want you to steal,” Rick murmured, half conscious.

“I’ll leave them money,” Tom replied, gazing tensely at him.

“My money, right?” Rick weakly breathed out as his eyes closed.

Tom did not answer.

As soon as they arrived at the hospital, they all got out and left the hospital area, quickly ditching the drunk driver while rushing to the trains. Carrying Rick through the turnstiles, they hurried to the ticket booth. They scanned at the train schedule, searching for the best one to take them out of Germany.

“We need to call the rent-a-car place and report on the destruction of the car,” Rick said, trying to keep awake as he felt like he had been stomped on with spikes and all of him wanted to die.

“Do you have the number?” Tom asked, heaving him to the edge of the platform while the others remained in line.

“It’s in my wallet,” Rick said.

Daniel paid for all their tickets. When the train arrived, they climbed on and got Rick into a seat. All four stood guard around him, carrying the duffel bag and their packs with their armor. Clothes showed up and Tom made Rick put them on. They were hideous, but better than being a bandaged half-naked man. He was given a plaid shirt and a pair of bright orange shorts. He was handed sandals for his feet. Rick didn’t argue as he put them on.

“So, can you tell me about Rhett and Emory… and Jordan? Where did they take them?” Rick’s gray eyes took in each of them, his grief once more shaking through his body.

“England,” Semour said.

Daniel and James exchanged a silent look, standing with one hand on a near pole.

“Peter insisted,” Semour explained. “He’s going to get them into a hospital there and then Michael will get them back home.”

“I need to call their parents,” Rick murmured, staring ahead into space. Everything around him felt numb except for his own body which hurt all over.

“Not now,” Daniel said.

“They need to know.” Rick clenched his teeth.

“Not yet,” Semour said.

Rick shot him a sharp look. But seeing Semour’s severe stare back, he ducked down. He then put his head in his hands. “It’s all my fault.”

Tom sat down next to Rick. “No, it isn’t.”

“Yes, it is,” Rick said. “They would never have been attacked if I hadn’t been with them. They never would have been attacked if I had insisted we skip Cochem. I shouldn’t have come on the trip at all. Germany is bad for my family. I should have known.”

James and Daniel said nothing, exchanging looks. Semour remained tight-lipped.

“It isn’t your fault,” Tom said again.

“People die around me,” Rick bit back. “You were there when Lewis was killed. You know.”

“By an SRA hunter,” Tom said. His gaze got cold and hard.

“And when that other hunter followed me into Alabama, Mr. Zeballos— the wolves there killed him because of me,” Rick said, clenching his hands.

“They killed him because he followed you into the pack on a full moon,” Daniel said, “And he was shooting at you.”

Rick rose, facing them all. “And how is this any different? It was another wolf pack’s home, only this time I led—”

“Stop it!” Tom snapped, grabbing Rick and shaking him by the arms. “It’s not your fault! You can’t blame yourself every time—”

“Yes, I can! They got hurt because of me!” Tears ran down Rick’s face. “Schwitzer slit Jordan’s throat because he wanted me to prove I was a wolf worthy of my reputation! AND THEY ATE HIS FACE!”

 “You tried to stop them,” Semour said quietly.

“But I couldn’t!” Rick sobbed hard. He swung out to punch the glass. Tom caught his hand before it could reach it, stopping him. He then wrapped his arms around Rick, restraining him. He knew Rick wanted to hurt himself. Rick screamed out, “It’s all my fault!”

“Not all your fault,” Daniel finally said.

Rick looked to him.

“Maybe partly your fault,” Daniel said quietly.

“Hey!” Tom shouted at him.

Shaking his head, Daniel replied, “No. He should own up to it. It wasn’t a blind mistake. He knows it. But he also needs to not be so arrogant to assume it was entirely his fault the choices his friends made.”

James nodded. “Swift’s right.”

Semour looked to him, listening.

Tom gaped, anger swelling in him. “That’s just cruel.”

“No,” James said sitting next to them, he peered into Rick’s face as Rick was taking it in. “Howie knows it’s the truth. All of us make bad choices from time to time. He knows he made a mistake, but it isn’t all his fault. Everybody involved made choices too.”

“And Howie did his best to save his friends,” Semour chimed in.

Rick looked to him. “But it wasn’t enough.”

Semour peered back, hard. “We’ve all lost someone.”

Rick closed his eyes.

“Hey,” Semour said. “I remember when Dale Peterson died.”

Opening his eyes, Rick gazed at him, shocked. Dale Peterson was James’s cousin, and a friend of Rick’s. He was also one of the boys snatched by what was known as the ‘Library Curse of Middleton Village’. Only ten of the thousands of boys who had gotten sucked into the other world where they had lived and grown up in battle had come back. Dale was not one of them who had returned. Rick had always wondered what had happened to him. He had always been told that he had died in battle. No one had ever elaborated.

“I couldn’t save him either,” Semour said.

“How did Dale die?” Rick asked as if for the thousandth time.

Cringing, Semour shook his head. “It was a big battle. Nasty, bloody. I was badly wounded. Dale, whom I knew there as Sir Orange before Sir Monkey came around and called him Pumpkin Head… he got old, and fat, and in battle he just…”

“It’s difficult to dodge a spear perfectly aimed under your chainmail and breastplate,” Daniel said.

“Man…” Rick closed his eyes, shaking his head.

“No one died of natural causes in that world,” Daniel explained.

“None that we know at least,” James chimed in grimly.

“We all have regrets, Howie,” Semour said. “We just have to learn from them.”

Rick shook his head. He murmured low. “But how many people die simply for being associated with you?”

They exchanged looks. He had them there.

“Everyone has got their own curse,” Tom finally said.

Rick turned his eyes to him. Tom could talk like that. He was unfortunately and indelibly connected with the Unseelie Court, which tormented him yearly on Halloween. He also saw things no one else saw. And oddly enough, the guy was strangely protective of him—especially weird since they hardly got along except to tease one another. Tom had always been savagely jealous of him. And at the same time, Rick envied the relationship Tom had with his mother who was ironically still in prison. And though Rick had finally reconciled with his own mother who had rejected him when he was thirteen and had first changed as a werewolf, Rick envied how Tom’s mom was undeniably comfortable with all of Tom’s insane supernatural weirdness and loved him to death.

“I guess so,” Rick murmured and then stared out the dark window.  

They all fell asleep on the train. And they got off at the end of the line, which took them to Trier. From there, they went into Luxembourg. As tickets were checked and passports were looked at a few times, they were soon allowed to continue on to France. They went south from there, then transferred to a train going into Paris where he could be brought to a hospital.

“Paris?” Rick asked anxiously when Semour had proposed it, as he was hoping to simply fly home. “Why?”

“I have an apartment in Paris while I am interning there,” Semour said matter-of-factly. “We can stay there while you recuperate in the hospital.”

Rick shot Tom a quiet look as he said, “Yeah, but can’t I just get on a plane and go home?”

“We need to take you to a hospital, and we don’t think it should wait,” Daniel said. And he looked to James. “You need a blood transfusion and who knows what else. But Sir Iron Fist and I do need to go back to England to meet up with the Zombie, so we’ll be taking your plane.”

Rick cringed, nodding. They were most likely right.

“I’ll stick with you,” Tom said in a low voice. “Don’t worry.”

Sharing yet another look between them, Rick tried not to worry. But his family’s history in Paris was only a little less distressing compared to his connections in Germany, and only Tom was aware of them.

*

Kaspar Schwitzer returned home to a burned down castle crawling with the remains of the fire brigade and the police. The area was cordoned off. When he arrived, they questioned him about