Then Al’s gaze fell on the half-eaten remains of Jessica, which immediately caused him to buckle over in a violent fit of vomiting.
“No way… I can’t believe that I… oh God and Jesus in Heaven no…”
Al vomited some more, while Mei patted his back in sympathy.
“There, there. Ya’ll get used to it doc.”
“I sincerely doubt that,” he answered in a choked voice desperately fighting his nausea.
“There are perks though,” she pointed out cheerfully. “A turbo charged physique that’ll take care of that beer-gut in no time for instance. Ya’ll look and feel younger too with super strong health.”
“Too bad the pain is absolutely excruciating,” he countered weakly. “I don’t know if I can endure that again Mei. Man it hurt.”
“No worry Doc, cause ya won’t need to. I already contacted my pack shaman. She’ll get ya warded asap. Yer’ll get better control and wolfing out wont hurt like shit no more.”
“Warded? You mean the tattoos? Like the ones you have?”
Mei nodded.
“And regarding this pack-business. Am I joining some crazy werewolf cult or something?”
“Nah, don’t worry doc. Not a cult or a club or anything like that. Pack’s basically a network of the occasionally furry in this region. No obligations or rules, except ta help each other out in case of trouble.”
Gradually Al started to recall more details from the night before.
“By the way, what about John? What happened to that asshole?”
Mei smiled demurely and burped. They both laughed.
“The other piece of shit has been wiped too by the way. I couldn’t sleep, so I did some cleaning for ya. I’ll get rid of yer marital leftovers too, no prob.”
Al immediately started vomiting again.
“But I totally ain’t cleaning up yer puke doc. Go get ya self a bucket or something. Jeez.”
******
A few hours later the house looked as pristine as it had the day before, with the exception of one missing chair. More specifically the one that Al had exploded out of when he had his debut as werewolf. It was broken beyond repair, so they threw it out.
After a light lunch they relaxed on the couch with a cup of coffee. Al briefly considered the absurd idea of enjoying a coffee break in a room where two people had died violently only a few hours ago. But that thought immediately made his stomach churn, so he forced it out of his mind.
“So what ya gonna do now doc? Guess yer bar is saved, eh?”
He put down his cup.
“That depends on you Mei. Have you ever wanted to run a bar?”
Mei looked confused.
“Yer offering me a job?”
“No, a partnership. But not here. Not in the Boatsman. Now that Jess has mysteriously disappeared without a trace, I’m thinking about selling everything and starting a new business somewhere else. Somewhere tropical. Like Bermuda or Hawaii or something like that. I’m sick and tired of this city and the shitty weather. What do you say Mei?”
“Before I answer, I need ta ask ya a couple of important questions doc. Celine Dion or Death Metal?”
“Cel…” Al started, but Mei interrupted him.
“Don’t say it! Moving on. Are ya familiar with Harleys?”
“The ex girlfriend of The Joker?” he offered.