Legacy of the Wolf

One Step Closer

During her time at Uncle Brewin's bedside, Sam had held his hand and asked in low tones if he could hear her; an enquiry answered only by the old man's wheezing, strained breaths. The nurse had said that he had awoken earlier in the day and asked for her but once again Sam had missed an opportunity to converse with him.

And there may not be many more opportunities left. The cancer had now spread to his brain. The doctor wasn't sure how much time Brewin still had, but he had been honest in telling her that it wasn't much. There was also a chance that his periods of lucidity would diminish further, or disappear altogether.

The beeping of the heart rate monitor reminded Sam of the last time she had visited him in the hospital, when the ECG had sped up in reaction to her mentioning "eclipse." She remembered also Brewin borrowing her phone and—she later found out—looking up the lunar cycle.

He knew. He knew about the Hell Hounds.

And was that why he had wanted to meet with her "tomorrow or the day after"—before the full moon... had he wanted to warn her?

If so, how did he know about the Infernum Cane? And what did that have to do with eclipse?

Sam had left the hospital with—as usual—more questions than answers.

That had been last night. Elias had called, but she had been in no mood to spend time with anyone. They did talk about Barnes' visit. Elias didn't seem particularly concerned. Sam got the sense that the mechanic was no stranger to police scrutiny. He had never been imprisoned as far as she knew, so he must have been good at concealing the truth; good at covering up what he didn't want others to know. Maybe it came natural to him...

It was, however, something that did not come naturally to Sam. Which was part of why she was sitting in Captain Hoskins' office listening to him tell her that she should see the police psychologist.

"You've seemed... off, lately, that's all. And I'm not the only one who's noticed it. So I want you to spend some time with Natalie this afternoon. She's great, you'll like her."

"Everything's okay, really—" Sam protested. Hoskins held up a hand.

"You've been through a lot in the last several weeks. More than most officers who've been on the force ten times as long. There's no shame in talking to a professional about it."

It was clear from the way Hoskins was presenting it that this was not a request.

Natalie Vanderbeek's office was just a few blocks from the station, on the second floor with a window looking out at snowcapped Mount Baker. Sam sat on a loveseat across from Natalie in a padded chair. The two had been chatting for about twenty minutes. "What made you want to become a police officer?" the psychologist asked.

Sam thought about this as the other woman waited. Natalie was a heavyset thirty-something with bright blue eyes and wavy golden hair. She was eyeing Sam with an unreadable expression, but this did nothing to alleviate the fact that Sam felt like she was being judged.

It didn't matter; if this was some kind of test, Sam wanted to pass. And so, in an effort to answer the question, she thought back... she had wanted to be a cop for as long as she could remember. But there wasn't one single thing she could point to.

"Oftentimes men and women join the force because someone in their family served," Natalie offered.

Sam shook her head. "My dad was a... an accountant. Mom was a stay at home Mom. Before the accident. Before they died." A dull, throbbing pain had worked its way deep into Sam's temples.