Cruel and Unusual - serialised novel EXCLUSIVE to Steemit Part 25

Exclusive for Steemit - serialisation of Cruel and Unusual – my second novel

Episodes:
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24

Pictures from Google Images and Pixabay

“Now then, introductions first, I think. I am Doctor John Coupe but my friends call me Jack,” he waited for a moment until the other realised that Jack wanted the other to introduce himself and his companion.

“This is my lady, Almyra and I am known as Marcellus. Or rather, we have been known as such for this century at least.”

“I am delighted, my lady Almyra. I shall remain your servant sir,” Jack gave a small and polite nod towards them both. “This leads me directly onto my first question. It is not yet full moon, are you out hunting already?”

Macellus smiled as though to reassure him. “No, of course not, but we do not like to waste the three nights of the full moon on socialising and so we came to visit you beforehand. Also, Almyra imagined that you would be far too cautious to allow us to approach you when the moon was full.”

Jack nodded at the explanation, they were correct, he would not have allowed them to get anywhere near him if they had made the same approach in a few nights hence. “Of course,” he smiled and without appearing alarmed or distressed, continued with his questions. “How old are you and to what age can you expect to live?”

“You should never ask a lady her age, Jack,” Almyra said and laughed. “I am one hundred and sixty-six years old.”

“And I am but a whelp at one hundred and twenty-six years,” Marcellus said. “I do not know to what age a Werewolf - as you call us - can live but I have heard of the ancients being in excess of five hundred years and older.”

“My goodness!” Jack exclaimed. “Truly immortal and yet you look so very young, barely out of your teens I would have guessed at, the both of you. Remarkable.”

Jack stood up to pour them more wine, topping their glasses up as well as his own. “Now, this is rather an indelicate question and I fully apologise for it beforehand my lady, but how do Werewolves procreate?” he had the decency to blush at his own question.

“Why in the same way as Humes!” Marcellus said.

“Humes now is that a pet name?”

“If you like,” Almyra said, smiling.

The conversation continued, the wine flowed, and some questions were ignored, such as, “How do I become a Werewolf?” Yet most others were answered and with as much detail as possible.

The next bottle of wine had been finished and Jack had gone to the cellar for another bottle.

“This is all very civilised Marcellus, but I grow tired of answering his questions. I cannot see that he would do us any harm, but are we going home or are we staying here for supper?”

Marcellus smiled at his love. “The choice, as ever, is yours, my darling.”

Jack returned and they ceased talking for the moment. He pretended that he was not chilled to the marrow by their overheard conversation as he passed them their glasses once more, both were refilled and he again took his own and held it up.

“Another toast if you please, to long life and eternal beauty,” he sipped his wine as they were holding up their own glasses and again echoing his toast. Then he smiled and sat down.

“One last round of questions and then I believe it is supper time,” Jack said as he sat down in front of his guests.

They had not noticed, but Jack’s bearing had altered as the evening had worn on. He was no longer the excited student, he was more calculating, asking questions which were far more prying than he had at first. Soon his veneer slipped completely.

“My lady, almost a month ago, I had the greatest pleasure in meeting you for the first time. I did not realise that it was you until you mentioned it earlier this evening but nevertheless, the pleasure was all mine.” Jack paused for affirmation, she nodded.

“Then, a little more than a week after that meeting, I again encountered a Werewolf. I saw where he was spending the evening and I managed to procure the services of a streetwalker close to where he was. I also managed to attract his attention, by way of stabbing the woman in the chest. Yet he only watched. I know that he saw everything and he was exceedingly intrigued, yet he neither changed his form, nor did he leave. I do not know what happened to the body of that woman, I have scoured the newspapers for reports of the discovery of it but I have not found anything that resembles the attack.”

“Why are you telling us of this? I thought that you were questioning us.”

“Yes dear lady, but I am explaining the problem. The question is relative but you need the background first. As I stabbed the woman, the Werewolf, as I said, was only mildly interested. I thought that piercing the heart would arouse his inner wolf, but the wound to her breast did nothing to make him change. I am quite perplexed. Can you shed some light upon this mystery?”

“This is no mystery. It was not full moon. An older Werewolf or even one not so old but one that was born Wolf, will be more able to resist the urge to change into a wolf, even with such a great temptation. I must ask you a question now, Jack. How did you know that he was a Wolf?”

Jack looked at Almyra for a little while, seeming to mull over her answer. Then he went right on to another question of his own, ignoring hers.

“Were you both born Werewolf or have you been made?”

“We were born Werewolf. I am from a long bloodline, but not pureblood. Before you ask, purebloods have only ever mated with other born Werewolves; none that were made are allowed to produce offspring.”

“Does that practice not make for interbreeding and weakness associated with incest?”

“It most certainly does not!” Almyra snapped, her usual composure slipping for a second. “You know nothing of our ways, Hume.”

“This is exactly the reason for these questions,” Jack replied with great patience. “If a Werewolf is killed whilst in the form of a wolf does he - or indeed she - automatically revert to their human form as in the legends?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. How could a dead animal change appearance?” the anger in her voice was evident.

“So it is conscious effort to alter form? That is interesting.”