We entered La Bagh Preserve and Gemini headed straight for the center of the woods. She glided between the trees with me trailing. Some distance ahead I could see someone had a fire going. There were some weird scents that I couldn’t’ really identify. Supernatural for sure, animal for sure, but that was all I could say. I could guess from name of the person we were going to meet, though.

  Coming to a small glen, there was a campsite with two tents. One quite big. And big was also the man who stood outside the big tent, looking like some steroid-pumped bouncer. He was dressed in hiking gear and flannel. It made him look like a lumberjack character from a old cartoon. To be honest though, it was probably clothes that he was the most comfortable in.

  “Gemini! Ca fait longtemps depuis la derniere fois qu'on s'est vu! Qu'est-ce que tu deviens , cherie?” The giant said.

  I didn’t understand much of that. Bloody French.

  “Peu de chose, Marc. Quoi de neuf?” Gemini said.

  “Il va vous expliquer la chose.” Marc answered.

  Gemini stepped into the big tent and I made a move to follow and was stopped by Marc’s outstretched arm. “Non! Défense d'entrer!”

  “Hey, Godzilla, easy with the grunts. “ But I backed off. This wasn’t my place and some courtesy was expected.

  “Funny, runt.” Marc said. There wasn’t a trace of a French accent. I was disappointed. It would have been much funnier to make fun of him then.

  “Well, at least I don’t have to shop at Freaks R Us. By the way, how the hell can you roam around this little piece of woods without detection?”

  Marc grinned. “This place is haunted, don’t you know? Before there was an old cemetery here and there have even been rumors ‘bout satanic rites and murder. Most don’t like to walk around in the dark because of that. And as caretaker, I keep the rest away so my family can have some peace and quiet.”

  I smiled. “Well, I thought it was magic.”

  “There is some of that, of course, but not all are susceptible to suggestion. But the wards give most normies’ the heebee-jeebies. This place is so small that it doesn’t require a Guardian. To the north-west are a stretch of parks or preserves that have a real Guardian. But La Bagh is ours,” Marc answered.

  Wards. Now there was an explanation for the tags and signs that I had seen that warned me or gave me the heebie-jeebies, as Marc had put it. New impossible things were crashing down on me by the minute.

  So, magic existed. Were-animals existed. Ghouls existed, even though they weren’t the ghouls from the movies. From what I understood of the Brood, they were different kinds of vampires. What the Others were I had no idea. Oh, and psychics were real as well. Go figure.

  I must have looked weird, because Marc gave me a funny look.

  “Sorry,” I apologized. “I just got a little zombie, nothing to worry about.”

  “You seem awfully relaxed.” Marc said. “No twitching or fear from you?”

  “No.”

  “How-“ But Marc was interrupted before.

  “Allez venez, Ms Smith, il fait si froid dehors.” Said a voice from inside the big tent.

  “Try to keep it short, he’s old.” Marc whispered to me.

  “But no deaf, grandson,” answered the voice. Now there was a nice French accent

  “I’ll do my best.”

  Marc nodded thanks and lifted the flap.

  Inside sat Gemini together with an old man. He was not much taller than me, but he had a presence that was hard to describe. There was both power and something else. Perhaps spirituality or something. “’Orrible weather, no?” the man said with a small smile.

  There was an iron stove heating the tent, and oil lamps lighting up the tent. It was quite warm inside. There were a beer cooler and small table between Gemini and the old man. And in the middle of the tent, in front of the old man, was an empty chair. Gemini indicated I should take the empty chair.

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  “Don’t seem to bother me much anymore.” I answered

  I took a good look at the old man. And he was old, but fit. He looked like he was eighty, but there was nothing fragile about him. This was an alpha in his twilight years. He had a hooked nose and a weathered face, and looked like an old farmer in many ways. The kind that have worked outdoors all his life.

  “Hmm, no wonder ah’m Papá Ourse, bah the way. You don’ come acrosse as a normal mimic,” he paused, thinking. “You ‘ave a differant taste, almost like an-“

  With that, the cat was out of the bag, and the bear was in the tent. Literally speaking. Marc had wasted no time. He must have Changed as soon he heard the word mimic, and he came through the opening with a roar.

  Gemini started out of her chair, but I think she was as surprised as I at what Papá Ourse did. And how fast it happened.

  “Allez-vous-en!” Papá Ourse only raised his hand as Marc jumped at me, and with a power surge Marc flew out of the tent! “Non, Marc! Pour qui te prends-tu?”

  Papá Ourse sat down again with a frown. ”Aah apologize for mah idiot grandson. He don’ understand.” He was interrupted by Marc’s angry roar from the outside.

  Without leaving his chair Papá Ourse roared an ears-splitting roar. A sound like that should be possible for an old man make, but it was effortless. This was dominance and leadership bear-style.

  “I wished you hadn’t really said that out loud.” I said wistfully.

  “You’re correct. Ah shouldn’t have. Ah must be getting senile in mah old age. Ah apologize!” Papá Ourse nodded at me to sit down again. “You see, Gemini brought you to me, so ‘dat ah could see you. She can talk mind to mind, but ‘dat is no’ one of my talents. Ah see possibilities and ah see power connected to ‘de one ah’m viewing. You don’ seem like a mimic, but at ‘de same time you must be, because all ‘de evidence fits. All ‘de evidence but one – you don’ taste like one. Ah don’ know what to make of you, Ms Smith.”

  “So, what am I?” I asked.

  “Don’ know. You might still be a mimic, but as ah said; ah don’ think so. Even if mah idiot grandson does.” He opened the cooler and took out a beer. “’Ere. Drink, you might need it.”

  “What-“ Gemini started, only to be interrupted.

  “Wait, Cherie, ah’m not done.” Papá Ourse sipped his own beer and gathered his thoughts. “Even if you’re something else, most will try to kill you anyway, Ms Smith. Ah will try and reason with Marc to keep ‘is mouth shut. And ah will try to convince de’ others, but ah do no think dey’ will lissen’. ‘Dey will think killing is better safe ‘dan sorry, no?”

  “Would you be angry if I disagree?” I asked.

  Papá Ourse laughed heartily. “Non, ah understand. Dere’ are mimics that live their lives without being a dangeur to others, but not in d'Americas. ‘Dat ah know of. 'Ere they ‘ave been killing mimics for 'undreds of years. You might want to emigrate to Russia, mon ami.”

  “Nope. Too...Russian, I suppose.” I scratched my nose. “Well, can you tell me something about the Dockside pack?”

  “No, but aah will sight you and make a prediction, if you give me your hand. You ‘ave much power trapped inside of you and there is something about it that speaks of a return of something, but that is as much as ah can sense about your being without touching you.”

  I gave Papá Ourse my hand. He held it firmly, took a deep breath and drew power. He even seemed to draw power out of me. The tent turned cold, like someone had ripped away the tent and dropped us in a freezer. But it was still there. The lamps didn’t seem to give as much light and for a moment Gemini looked almost transparent.

  With a sigh Papá Ourse let go of the hand. “Aah’m no true Predictorie, but you may find someone connected to ‘dis killing you want avenged ‘dis night if you go back to where you lived before. Ah cannot not really see your threads, but ah can see some threads connected to you. Someone ‘ho is looking for you in a place ‘dat is not your home anymore, and you can catch ‘dem, But only if you ‘urry. Do you understand any of ‘dis?”

  I looked at Gemini.

  “Well, go!” Papá Ourse told us.”Gemini, désolé, mais…qui peut s'arrêter là ??”

  Gemini nodded sadly.

  I wistfully handed back the unopened beer to Papá Ourse. “Another time, perhaps.”

  Papá Ourse just nodded and waved me out.

  Outside the tent Marc was waiting. ”Freak!” he spat. “And you – traitor!” he flung at Gemini.

  Before he could move on me, I had my gun out pointing between his eyes.“You’re starting to piss me off, Marc! You go talk to your granddad instead of being a raving bigot!” I growled.

  “What?” Marc spluttered.

  “What else would call someone who acts on prejudice and fear? Stupid comes to mind, but I’ll give you the benefit of a doubt. Before you get all holier than thou on me, you might consider that I’ve been calm, easy-going – even civil – up until you turned into an ass instead of bear!”

  “You don’t deserve to live.”

  “Listen! I like you, but if you come between me and my oath and you’re fair game. After that is over, we can go all out if you want, but until then you stay the fuck away! I do not want to kill you, Marc.”

  I nodded to Gemini who gave Marc one glacial look before she followed me out of the woods.

  Knowing me would not help Gemini in any way. It might even get her killed. That dawned on me with Marc’s reaction to me. That was unaccetptable!

  “He will not keep this to himself. He’ll spread the word.” Gemini said as we ran. She was talking about Marc.

  “I know. You need to distance yourself from me.” I answered her. That would be the best solution.

  “No.” A simple no, but ironclad in every way.

  “What’s the fastest way back? Tunnels or cab?” I asked, leaving that discussion for a while.

  “If we’re lucky, we can catch a train at Montrose, if not there’s probably a cabbie around there somewhere. Running is fast, but this time at night a cab might be slightly faster. If he drives fast.”

  “Well let’s find a train or a real reckless cab driver then.”

  Being a woman made it easier to get a cab. Two women even better. Thank God I was not a guy! I believe most cab drivers wouldn’t stop for a guy wearing only jeans and t-shirt late in October.