Wolfsbane and Mistletoe Page 0,82

a therianthrope hunter," David said. "He kills shapeshifters."

"You're kidding. Right?"

An uncomfortable silence ensued. Everyone stopped holding hands. Scott cleared his throat, then pushed away from the table and stood up.

"No one is sure how our kind got started. Some say black magic. Some say interspecies breeding, though I don't buy into that malarkey. Some say therianthropes date back to the very beginning, the Garden of Eden, where man and werebeast lived in harmony. But the Bible doesn't tell the whole story. Certain religious leaders over the years have edited it as they see fit. Entire books were taken out. Like the Book of Bob."

Weston looked around to see if anyone was smiling. All faces were serious.

"The Book of Bob?"

"The Book of Bob is a lost chapter of the Old Testament, dating back to the Hellenistic period. It tells the story of God's prophet, Bob, son of Jakeh, who is the first werewolf mentioned in the Bible."

"The first? There aren't any."

"They were edited out. Pay attention, son. You'll learn something. See, Bob was a werewolf, blessed by the Lord with the gift of lycanthropy to do His work by eating evildoers. But after eating his one-thousandth sinner, Bob became prideful of his accomplishments, and that angered God."

"Why would that anger God?"

"This was the Old Testament. God got pissed off a lot. Didn't you ever read Job?"

"I'm just saying - "

Irena shushed him. Scott continued.

"So to put Bob in his place, God granted one of Bob's enemies - Christopher, son of Cringle - a red suit of impenetrable armor, and ordered him to smite all therianthropes. God also blessed domesticated beasts with the power to fly through the sky, to pull Christopher's warship of destruction throughout the world."

Weston again looked around the room. Andy was examining his fingernails. Ryan was staring off into space. But David looked like a child listening to his favorite bedtime story.

"Bob and Christopher fought, and Bob proved victorious. Upon triumphing, he begged God to forgive his pridefulness, and God agreed. But Christopher, God's chosen avenger, felt betrayed. So he turned to the other side, begging for assistance."

"The devil?"

"Lucifer himself, the Son of the Morning Star. Lucifer gave Christopher a fearsome weapon, shaped like the talons of an eagle, forged in the fires of hell. He called the weapon Satan's Claws. And Christopher recruited an army of helpers to rid the world of Bob and his kind, claiming he was bringing about salvation."

"Let me see if I got this right," Weston said. "Kris Kringle and his magic red suit are using Satan's Claws - which I'm guessing became Santa Claus over time - to kill therianthropes with the help of . . . the Salvation Army?"

Everyone nodded. Weston laughed in disbelief.

"So how did this whole toy thing get started?"

"Kringle has killed millions of therianthropes, leaving many children orphans. He began to feel some remorse, so after he slaughtered their parents he began to leave toys behind, to take away some of the sting."

"And this is for real?"

Scott reached up and pulled down his collar, exposing a terrible scar along his neck.

"Kringle gave this to me when I was seven years old, right after murdering my parents."

"I thought he gave orphans toys."

"He also gave me a train set."

Weston shook his head. "Look, I can accept this whole shapeshifting thing. And touching the wolfsbane, that was creepy. But you want me to believe that every volunteer on a street corner with a bell and a Santa suit is out to murder us? I just saw one of those guys this morning, and while he was kind of odd - "

Scott reached across the table, grabbing Weston by the shirt. His face was pure panic.

"You saw one! Where?"

"Back in Naperville."

"What did he say to you?"

"Something about naughty boys and being beheaded and burned on sacred ground. He was obviously out of his mind."

Irena clutched Weston's hand. "The only way we can die is old age or beheading."

"Think carefully, Weston." Scott actually looked frightened. So did everyone else. "Were you followed here?"

"I don't think so. I mean, maybe I saw him talking on a cell phone. And maybe there was someone in a Santa suit a few cars behind me on the expressway - "

A shrill whistle cut Weston off. It sounded like a teapot.

But it wasn't a teapot. It was an alarm.

"They've found us." David's voice was quavering. "They're here."

"Battle stations!" Irena cried, causing everyone to scurry off in different directions.

Scott hurried to the coffee table, pushed the machine aside, and