For the Good of All by Nicky Charles
“Their dormitories are locked at night. There are chamber pots in the rooms. They know not to go outside after dark.”
They’d arrived at the medical centre.
“Thank you for the stroll. I’ll see you in the morning.” Sister nodded and left.
Stone watched her walk away, her back ramrod straight, her steps quick and no-nonsense. A very interesting woman. She reminded him of a young Adisa, though he was sure the nun was human not Fae.
He entered the medical centre, stripped and lay down on the cot. It creaked under his weight, the thin cotton sheets scratchy against his skin. Not a luxurious resting place but better than he’d planned on. A slow sigh escaped him and he closed his eyes, idly going over his plans for the morning.
The night sounds and scents drifted into the small room. Humid air, animals growling, the sweet scent of tropical flowers, a jaguar…
Stone sat upright, suddenly alert. He knew that scent. Esteban had recently passed by. His wolf growled; it hadn’t been impressed with the cat last time they’d met.
Would the jaguar have any information on Christina’s body? Stone swung his legs out of bed and approached the door only to stop as he recalled the nun’s warning. The guards would question what he was doing, if they even gave him the chance to talk before they shot him. Damn.
Frustrated, Stone turned from the door. If he didn’t find any trace of Christina at the rendezvous site tomorrow, he’d head back this way and try to pick up the shifter’s trail.
On a whim, he opened his backpack and dug around inside. His hand encountered something soft and he pulled out the rag doll and studied it. Its button eyes stared at him, the red yarn smile never wavered. The ribbons still decorated the doll’s hair though they showed signs of frequent handling.
He stroked one finger down the doll’s cheek and then closed his eyes, sighing heavily.
Stone was awake and pacing his room as soon as dawn broke. He wanted to be on his way, his dreams having been filled with memories of Christina. They’d felt so real, he’d been sure he could’ve reached out and touched her, yet each time his dream-self did, she’d slipped away.
A bell sounded and the compound seemed to come alive, children spilling from dormitories, a woman carrying a bucket of water. Someone was leading a cow from a shed. Stone took leave of his temporary bedroom and jogged down the steps, intent on leaving.
He’d barely made it a few feet when Sister Bernita called his name.
“Mr. Stone, are you in such a hurry to leave us that you can’t stay for breakfast?”
He paused. Normally, he wouldn’t care about being rude and not replying but something about the nun had him dusting off his manners. “Breakfast?”
“And don’t say you don’t eat in the morning. A man such as you knows the importance of a good meal before a journey.”
His words to Christina a few days ago seemed to be coming back to haunt him. “I suppose I can take a few minutes.”
“Good.” She led the way to the dining area.
There was less formality than the evening before. Everyone was serving themselves from pots situated at one end of the room. Some kind of hot cereal, fruit and scrambled eggs.
“Thanks.” Stone nodded his appreciation to the nun as she spooned food onto his plate.
“We’re fortunate to have so much. Only a few months ago, I was wondering how to feed everyone. Then the Brothers of Virtue befriended us and now we have a flock of chickens.”
“The Brothers of Virtue?”
Sister led the way to a table. “Yes, they’re an off-shoot of some sect that looks for worthy causes to support.”
Stone frowned, his radar on alert. It seemed almost too good to be true, yet what harm could there be in supplying food to an orphanage? “Does the Brotherhood visit often?”
“No, perhaps once a month. They’re looking into trying to find homes for some of the children stateside. They even brought in a doctor to give the children check-ups and took photos for passports.” She paused, her spoon part way to her mouth. “I must confess that the idea of sending the children so far away has me worried.”
Stone leaned back in his seat. “You know—”
One of the guards interrupted. “Excuse me, Sister, we need you. Someone has been brought to the gate in need of medical attention.”
“Take the patient to the infirmary. I’ll be there in a minute.” Setting down her utensils, she gave a wry smile. “I almost made it through the meal before the daily chaos began. If you’ll excuse me?” She pushed her chair back and got to her feet.
Stone stood up as well. “I’ll say goodbye now. It sounds like you’ll be busy.”
“I didn’t get a chance to check your wound yet. If you could wait an hour?”
“It’s fine. Like I said before, I heal quickly.”
“Can’t wait to get away from me, can you?” She shoved her hands in her pockets, a crooked smile on her face that didn’t quite make it to her eyes.
“Unfinished business.”
“I understand. Best of luck with your quest.” She stuck out her hand and he took it.
“And you as well.”
“Hermana! Sister! La vaca, the cow, it is in the garden and we can’t get it out.” A little boy came running into the room.
“Pedro, look at your feet! You’ve walked through filth with your new shoes.” Sister Bernita scolded the boy and waved her hand as the scent of manure filled the room.
The boy looked momentarily penitent before returning to his reason for being there. “I’m sorry, Hermana Bernita, but the cow is eating our vegetables!”
“I’ll help with the cow before I go,” Stone volunteered. “You tend to your patient.”
“Thank you. Sometimes I feel like I’m pulled in too many directions at once.”
“I can see that.”
“Goodbye, Mr. Stone. I hope we meet again.” With that she hurried from the room and Stone followed the boy to where the recalcitrant cow was happily munching on fresh vegetables.
Stone helped with the cow, both he and his wolf deciding that bovines were obstinate creatures.
If you’d let me shift, I’d show this animal who is boss, his wolf murmured.
“If we didn’t have an audience, I’d let you,” Stone whispered back.
Instead, he and Pedro pushed on the cow. It looked back at them with wide, wondering eyes and then resumed eating.
“Grab its halter,” Stone instructed. “You pull, I’ll push.”
Pedro nodded in agreement and Stone set his shoulder against the cow’s hip.
“Move, you ornery beast.” He shoved against it one more time. The cow’s response was to drop a pile of fresh manure right at his feet. He leapt back. “Holy shit!”
“It’s not blessed, señor Stone.” Pedro called the comment as he tugged on the halter. “And Hermana says we must call it manure, not shit.”
A growl of disgust slipped from Stone’s lips as he stared at the steaming pile before him. The cow’s head jerked up at the sound, gave a bellow of distress and took off at a run. Pedro gave a shout and raced after the cow waving his arms. Stone joined in and between the two of them they managed to herd the cow into the pasture. Grabbing the gate, Stone moved to pull it shut behind the cow and promptly put his foot in a pile of manure. The stinking crap was everywhere.
“Disculpame. I’m sorry. I haven’t shovelled yet,” Pedro explained. “We clean the pasture every day and store the manure over there.” He pointed to a large mound in one corner of the field. The sun was beating down on it causing the odour to be especially strong. “Manure is good for growing vegetables. See how big the plants are?” The boy’s chest puffed with pride as he showed off the garden.
Stone nodded in agreement and spent a few minutes with the little fellow before taking his leave.
He followed the rough path through the jungle, retracing his steps from the day before. It was later than he’d planned on getting started but, with any luck, he’d reac
His thinking stuttered to a halt, not wanting to conjure up images of her dead body. He’d have to face that grim reality soon enough but, for now, he’d remember her as she was. Full of life, colourful and quirky.
One corner of his mouth curled as he thought of how she would have dealt with the cow this morning. Would she have tried to hex it as she had with the fish? He chuckled at the memory. What kind of curse would a cow have deserved? And what if she’d stepped in the manure? He created a comical scenario in his head as he walked along, finding comfort in the act. Christina seemed nearer, the pain in his chest lessening as he brought her to life with his mind.
Eventually, he was far enough away from the orphanage that it seemed safe to change into his wolf. He relaxed and gathered the energy within him, preparing to shift but his wolf was distracted rather than eagerly awaiting its chance at freedom.
“What’s up?” He questioned his inner animal.
The wolf didn’t answer, instead twitching its ear in a puzzled fashion. Something wasn’t right.
Members of the drug cartel? Another snake or crocodile? Stone turned in a slow circle, sniffing the air, eyes searching the shadows. Ah, there it was. The scent of a jaguar, and it was nearby.
“Esteban, show yourself!” Stone leaned against a tree and folded his arms, prepared to wait. He wasn’t going to waste his time playing hide and seek. The cat could come to him.
Patience paid off. A few minutes later there was a rustling in the bushes and the jaguar appeared. It prowled closer, a growl rumbling in its throat, its tail lashing in anger.
Stone raised one brow, not impressed by the show.
The jaguar snarled, the air shimmered and the man stood before him scowling. “Why are you still here?”
“As pleasant as always.” Stone mocked slowly straightening.
“You said you were here to get your people and that, once you did, you’d leave. Was that nothing but a lie? A trick so I’d lower my guard?”
“No trick. I found the Lycans I sought. Two were dead. I took the pups back with me.”
Esteban narrowed his eyes. “Yet you’re back again.”
Stone forced himself to repeat what had happened. When he was finished, he explained his presence. “I’ve come to find her body.”
“Her body?” Esteban snorted. “You cared so little about her that you abandoned her.”
“I didn’t. I—” He clamped his mouth shut. He wasn’t going to justify himself to a cat. Yes, Christina’s fate was his fault. He’d live with the guilt, the pain, for the rest of his life but the jaguar was in no position to judge. “You could have prevented the situation if you’d only helped the Duffys, our ambassadors, when trouble first arose.”
“It was their choice to be here.” Esteban shrugged. “Their fate was their own doing.”
Stone growled and Esteban responded with a low rumble. They slowly circled around, each watching the other, alert for the first sign of an attack.
It was the sound of an approaching jeep that had them both looking up. Almost as one, they faded into the shadows watching the jeep as it passed. When it was gone, they stepped forward.
“Mendoza’s men.” Esteban sniffed.
“Scum sucking bastards.” Stone added.
Esteban slid him a sidelong look. “It would seem we agree on one thing.”
“A starting point, perhaps?”
Esteban shrugged, obviously not willing to commit himself. “What are you going to do about the others?”
“What others? The other drug lord? Reyes?”
“Lycans.” Esteban rolled his eyes. “They weren’t part of your ‘embassy’ but they are still members of your species. They don’t belong here.”
Understanding dawned. “You mean Dante.”
“That’s one of his names. He and his woman are interfering with my humans.”
“Your humans?”
“Yes, my humans. My people were gods to them. Over the centuries we’ve come to view the humans as ‘ours’.”
“Interesting concept.” Stone barely kept from snorting. The jaguar had a demigod complex.
“I want those Lycans gone.”
Stone shrugged. “I don’t like Dante but he’s not my main concern right now. Feel free to deal with him yourself.”
“I won’t dirty my paws on a filthy dog. And speaking of filth,” Esteban sniffed, “what have you been rolling in?”
Stone glanced at his shoes. Remnants of manure still stuck to them but the smell wasn’t that bad any more. The damned cat was purposely trying to irritate. “If you want help getting rid of Dante, you’re going about it the wrong way.”
“What if I told you I have information on the witch?”
“Christina?” That had caught his attention.
“If that’s what you called her.”
Stone narrowed his eyes, not trusting the jaguar. “I left her at an abandoned farm. It was our rendezvous spot with a chopper.”
“I know. Your scents were very strong. But she’s not there anymore.”
“Where’s her body?” A myriad of emotions washed over him. Hope, regret, impatience, dread, the desire to grab the jaguar by the scruff of the neck and shake him. He managed to control himself. Barely.
“You get rid of the two Lycans, I’ll tell you where to look.”
Stone narrowed his eyes. “Why can’t you handle them yourself?”
“I could crush them with my jaws, but I try not to involve myself with other magical species unless there is no other option. You happen to be here, I might as well make use of you.”
As much as he hated dealing with the supercilious feline and his never-ending slurs, Stone agreed. To find Christina, he’d do anything.
He parked the old jeep Esteban had lent him, thankful the jaguar hadn’t been lying when he’d said the vehicle’s engine was better maintained than the exterior.
“There’s less likelihood that it will be stolen if it looks like a pile of junk,” Esteban had explained when Stone had first questioned the transportation offered. Rust holding hands, that’s all the exterior was, while the interior consisted of ripped seats and a cracked windshield.
At first, it had surprised him that Esteban was willing to provide any form of help at all with the venture, even sharing that Dante had been seen heading into a nearby town yesterday.
The jaguar’s response had been typically insulting. “The sooner you take care of them, the sooner my jungle will be free of the scent of dogs.”
Stone had held back the retorts that had sprung to mind. Until he had Christina’s body, the jaguar’s attitude had to be tolerated.
Now he found himself at the edge of a town preparing to embark on a familiar task; hunting down Dante. Making the Lycan pay for his crimes had been his goal for over a year. Normally, he’d feel some sense of satisfaction that his quest was nearing its end. Instead, it was just an irritating task that was keeping him from his true goal.
The town wasn’t that large by American standards but there were enough scents to sort through that finding Dante wasn’t a quick task. When he did, it was in a decent looking hotel, one of the few tourist spots still operating despite the unrest that plagued the country. The white stucco building rose several storeys, chrome and glass lined balconies glistening in the sun while colourful umbrellas dotted the deck around the pool.
Dante was dining at an open air cafe with another man of a similar age. Both sported dress shirts and gold watches, the epitome of well to do business men having a working lunch. There were a number of other people eating there was well. Waiters moved among the tables delivering drinks and food. A small man-made waterfall trickled in one corner and pots of exotic flowers decorated the low brick wall that surrounded the terrace.
For a while Stone observed the man hoping he’d leave and head somewhere more secluded. That, of course, was too much to hope for. Dante was having a leisurely meal and it appeared he’d continu
Stone circled the building looking for points of access. The front door was out of the question. In his khakis and combat boots, he’d never make it past the lobby. The employees’ entrance at the back of the building, however, looked much more promising. He stood a few yards away noticing a refrigerated delivery truck was parked to one side. Not far from it, a pickup with crates of fruit and vegetables was backed up to the kitchen door. A few of the crates were already on the ground near the rear of the truck and two men were standing near the driver’s door, likely haggling over prices.
The door to the kitchen swung open and shut in the breeze, completely unattended. Stone strolled closer. No one glanced his way. Casually, he bent and picked up a large bag of onions, hefted it to his shoulder and carried it inside.
The kitchen was bustling with white uniformed employees preparing food. Knives flashed as food was cut and sliced, sizzling sounds emitted from pans on the stove while the clanging of metal pots and the clatter of dishes added to the unique symphony.
Using the bag of onions as a shield, he walked through the space, not setting it down until he reached the other side. Exiting the kitchen, he found himself in a narrow passageway lined with several doors. The one to his left had the word ‘Employees’ on a plaque. He eased it open. No one was there. Perfect.
A change of clothes seemed in order if he wanted to move about the hotel unnoticed. He searched the lockers until he found a uniform that came close to fitting him. The pants were too big in the waist and the shirt was too tight in the chest but it would suit his purpose. After stashing his own things in an empty locker, he jammed the door shut in lieu of a padlock and then he slipped out of the room and made his way towards the terrace. How to get to Dante with so many witnesses was a problem he hadn’t yet figured out but a solution would come to him. Grabbing a cloth from the bar, he situated himself near Dante’s table, careful to stay downwind and half-hidden by a potted palm. Miming wiping the table and fixing the flowers in the centrepiece he listened in to the conversation.
“I was pleased to hear from you so soon after placing my order.” The other man took a sip of his drink and eased back in his chair.