Ames, Iowa / October 24th / 4:25 P.M.


“I’d hate to see you leave so soon, Johan,” said the marten, treading down the sidewalk. “You’ve only been here the past couple days; and I know it’ll take you a full day’s worth of flying to get all the way back to Sedona. Still, we’re glad you could make it.”

“Don’t act like you’re such a burden, Wes,” the boyish black jaguar said with a grin, moving at a steady pace beside the pine marten. “I don’t see you kids often enough. It’s not like I need an excuse to fly up here. As for my travel expenses, consider them insignificant.”

With the coarse crunch of fallen leaves, the pine marten and black jaguar toured around what a few older, tenured professors around the campus of Iowa State University might still fondly call The Golden Loop. With November arriving soon, there were no guarantees there’d be more days for advantageous jaunts in the afternoon sun. Underneath the ever-watchful, august eyes of the iconic campanile, the two men considered the ramifications of current events on a nearly empty campus.

“Does any of it bother you, though? At the time, I wasn’t sure why Isaak felt it necessary to call you in the first place, but the fact you’re here says it all, doesn’t it?”

“I’m concerned, if that’s what you’re asking,” said the jaguar, his steady smile untiring. “With the uptick in paranormal activity around Iowa in recent months, I’ve been less inclined to allow any extraordinary events the chance to run their course.

“It’s been busy, I can tell you that much,” the marten sighed. “From what I’ve seen and all I know, Johan, you’ve left your mark on them. They come back from Villisca, and you’re the first person they try to reach after me. However, I’m still not entirely sure I understand why this time around was so urgent. What happened was scary for them, but it wasn’t on par with Tyson’s captivity this past summer.”

“From what Isaak told me,” the cat said with a small laugh, “they had quite the ordeal down in Villisca. Need I remind you that Tyson and the rest aren’t huntsmen like you and your sister? To them, the supernatural hasn’t lost it appeal—it’s allure. To them, ghosts and demons are still subjects which elicit fear and dismay. Especially when they experience them outright like they did a couple days ago. This world of ours—one of monsters and aliens—is still very much a mystery to them. The short of it, Mr. Romero, is that they’re just ordinary folk.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Wes said with a sidelong glance. “For a supposed bunch of ordinary kids, they’re certainly quite capable of being extraordinary at the most opportune of moments. No, there’s more to it than that. When they got back, Isaak mentioned a journal. Haley’s journal, I think? I don’t remember; but from I’ve gathered, the journal’s got some important information pertaining to what happened in Villisca. It didn’t make sense to me. Isaak said he and a few others saw somebody with them that night. An arctic fox, from what I recall. Said the guy he saw looked like a person described in—”

The conversation came to an abrupt halt once the marten realized that his feet were the only steps he could hear. A wave of uneasiness washed over him as Wes stopped himself and pivoted. Where they stood underneath the drooping elm and oak branches, the sidewalk was shrouded in shifting shadow. As the marten turned around, Wes saw Johan standing still about eight feet behind him. The black jaguar’s once persistent smile had all but disappeared. In its place was an unmistakable dreaminess that belied the man’s youthful figure. Wherever his thoughts had taken him, Johan’s interest lie in the unreachable recesses of untethered contemplation.

Troubled, if not a little afraid, the huntsman asked, “Johan? Is everything all right?”

It was then that man’s eyes moved from that an unspecific point between the trees off the sidewalk and shifted focus back to the marten. It was sudden and unearthly swift. The cat’s body hadn’t moved, and his once unchanging smile had not yet resurfaced. For one fleeting, unsettling moment, the only discerning detail indicative of any change were those eyes. Glinting in the shifting shadow like two large polished coins, Wes was promptly reminded that while Johan remained the man he met seven years ago, the black jaguar was still thoroughly supernatural. In one uncomfortable, infinitesimal second, Wes Romero was reminded that the man had who walked with him on the Iowa State University campus had walked these open roads and covert pathways alike for, at least, four centuries. While Johan was no monster in terms of temperament, he was still a vampire.

“Oh, sorry there, Wes,” the jaguar said cheerily after that brief uneasiness passed, “Everything’s fine. I was lost in thought, that’s all.”

Scoffing, the marten wryly asked, “Having a senior moment?”

“Indeed, I was, but don’t you forget, Mr. Romero, one of these days, you’ll grow old yourself,” the boyish black jaguar said with a wink and speedily glided toward Wes’ side with effortless ease. “Now there’s one matter in particular I’d wish to discuss, but first, you think that hyena from Hadeanstar will give Naomi much grief?”

“No,” he said, blinking in surprise, “he’ll only talk her ear off for the most part. In any case, Naomi won’t be threatened by Varik’s presence. Sure, he’s one half of the Duumvirate, but the guy’s very personable. Surprisingly reasonable, too, given his power set. How’d you know they’d be meeting tonight? I don’t remember mentioning that much.”

“Isaak didn’t tell me about Haley’s journal,” said the jaguar as they both exited the shady copse of drooping branches, “but he did mention how uneasy he was to have them meet up with anyone from Iowa City. To tell you the truth, Wes, I think you’ve made the poor boy afraid of monster hunters.”

Reemerging into sunlight, Johan took this time to unfasten an object from around his neck.

The pine marten chuckled and reasoned, “Hey, I only told him the truth. That with the rise in paranormal activity around Iowa, it’ll be good for the two groups to be, at least, aware of each other’s intentions. That is to some extent. I just don’t want anyone else from Homeland Security getting the wrong impression.”

Taking notice of Johan’s behavior, Wes jokingly asked, “Am I boring you, Johan? Have I so completely failed as a conversationalist?”

“No, my friend,” said the jaguar with a mischievous grin. “I’m going to show you the real reason I’m here.”

Stepping backward, the black jaguar took the object from around his neck and gently tossed it into the air. Fully expecting to catch it, Wes instinctively prepared a free hand but was amazed to discover a brass skeleton key floating in mid-air.

“Johan,” Wes muttered, mesmerized by the sight, “what is this?”

The ostensibly ordinary brass key was floating within what appeared to be a three-dimensional cage composed of cyan-colored laser light. This bright blue grid took the form of a rotating icosahedron. Inside the grid’s iridescent structure, the skeleton key radiated as if surrounded by a lustrous, golden aura. Wes was unsure if it was merely an auditory hallucination, but the pine marten insisted, if only internally, that the faint sound of wind chimes could be heard emitting from inside this smoldering cage of peculiar origin.

“Just as I expected,” said the jaguar, crossing both his arms, “it’s reacting the same way here, but only now it’s stronger.”

“Stronger? I don’t understand,” the marten admitted, hovering a hand over the shimmering configuration. “What does this have to do with what’s been happening lately?”

“My friend, you’ll just have to wait and see,” he said, amused by the marten’s keen interest. “For now, I’d like you call your sister. Have her come up here from Red Oak if possible. I’m thinking they should be done harvesting being this close to November.”

The huntsman raised a brow at the vampire’s appeal and inquired, “What does she have to do with this?”

“There’s a full moon out tonight. Anything can happen; and Marie needs to see this, too.”

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I'd like to use this opportunity to thank  Xypress for all the hard work and effort he poured into this piece! It's been a while since I last worked with him, and given the work I've received lately, it won't be the last. Honestly, I'm very happy with the end result, and I hope he gets more attention for the services he provides. And since this is Wes' first appearance in any art, I'm glad I gave him the chance to create this whole scene. He did a terrific job, and here's hoping you look into his page for more incredible art!


art is ©  Xypress

Wes Romero and Jaime Johan Rejón are ©  nazcapilot