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"It's not that I mind your brother staying here for the most part," Ian Matheson said, holding his glass up to the light to study its contents, "but I am rather tired of finding fur in the ice cubes."
"What's a little lemming fur between friends?" Randi Wallace Michaels asked, curling up on the sofa beside him.
Ian nodded toward the kitchen. "I set him out on the counter to defrost." He tilted his head to get a better look at his drink. "I know Alaskan Snow Vampires like to sleep where it's cold and dark but I'd rather he used the couch."
Randi smiled wickedly. "We could use the couch." She laughed and tackled him, pushing Ian back into the cushions.
He struggled to sit up. "Randi, you know this is a bad idea. You know what always happens when we..." She kissed him. Ian grinned and set his glass down on the coffee table. "Well, it's worth a try, isn't it?"
He began placing a string of light kisses down the side of her neck but she suddenly pulled away with a snarl, her eyes golden, her fangs bared. Ian sighed and released her, watching in frustration as she regained her normal state.
Randi slumped back onto the cushions, breathing heavily, her wolf self hidden again. "There has to be a way," she said softly, her own anguish equally apparent.
"I'm sure there must be, my dear," Ian replied, reaching out his arm to pull her closer. He hugged her tightly. "But until then this will have to do."
"But it's not good enough."
"It never is."
Russell Michaels stretched, yawned and shook the frost out of his hair changing from a lemming to a man somewhere in the process. He hopped off the counter onto the cold linoleum, wiped a dab of ice cream off his jeans, studied it a moment, then stuck his finger in his mouth. "Hmmm, Cherry Garcia." He sighed, wishing for the days when he could eat more than a taste of it, then shrugged and started off in search of food more to his liking.
Russell glanced into the living room and saw Ian and Randi cuddling on the couch. He hesitated a moment, uncertain whether to disturb them. Ian noticed the movement in the doorway.
"Russell, come join us."
"Yeah," Randi sighed. "We were just sitting here."
"I'm on my way out to get a bite," Russell said with a grin. "Although if I weren't a vampire, I would love to devour that carton of ice cream in there."
"And if I weren't a werewolf, I'd love to devour Ian," Randi replied. She gave him a squeeze. Ian gave her an embarrassed little smile.
Russell laughed. "Now you know why they named her 'randy'." He started toward the door. "Later."
I think he's been in California too long," Ian said.
"Nah, he hasn't even seen his first mudslide yet."
Russell strolled leisurely down to the pier, searching for possible dinner candidates. All he needed was a straggler, a healthy-looking loner, possibly one with a telltale stagger in his gate. Many a long Alaskan night had been warmed by the blood of an inebriated pipeline worker, providing him with not only a snack but sometimes quite a buzz as well.
A tall weathered red building rose up on the left, the name 'Sinbad's' just barely visible in faded white paint above the boarded-up door. The windows were boarded as well. It sat dark and desolate in comparison to the lights and noise around it.
A lone man with shoulder length black hair drifted out of the crowd and turned into the darkness alongside the deserted restaurant. Too perfect. Russell glanced both directions and went after him.
One of the boards covering the second window was pulled loose and the screen was torn. Russell paused beside it, listening. It could be a trap. He wasn't the only predator out here. Slowly he walked to the far end of the building, looking for another way in. The last window had only one board remaining. He ripped it off and slipped inside.
The man was waiting by the other window, head cocked, expecting company. He wouldn't be disappointed. Russell rushed up to him from behind, wrapping one arm around the man's chest, pinning his arms, and using his other to pull the man's head to the side, exposing his throat. He sank his teeth into the warm flesh and gulped down a mouthful of blood.
Salty. It was way too salty. He choked, gagging at the taste of it. His eyes teared up. This guy needed to cut down on his sodium intake. He closed his eyes and swallowed again, hoping to clear his mouth of the briny sting.
Before he could open them again, he felt his victim changing shape in his hug, rising darker and larger and more equine as the moments passed.
With a mighty lunge, the creature broke free and landed with a clatter of hooves. It turned to face him, blazing blue eyes visible in the darkness, huge horse body tensed and alert. It snorted hot breath on Russell's face.
"Whoa, big fella," Russell said softly. The next thing he felt was hooves, left front and right front, one on his chest, the other on his shoulder. He grabbed a fetlock and hung on, hoping the weight of his body might anchor the beast to the floor but it caught him by the back of the shirt and flung him into the far wall. He scrambled to his feet, but not fast enough. The horse creature had him by the arm, rearing and swinging him over its head before releasing him like a shot-put. Russell crashed into a window at the ocean end of the building, tearing through the screen and breaking out the boards across it. He fell, grateful for the air and the night and the safety of the water down below.
The tall blond man with the tsunami-shaped curl on his head adjusted his circular red glasses and glared down at the contraption he held in his hand. The device, something like a cross between a tv set and a divining rod was flashing and spitting out data as fast as it could. "Hmmm."
"We're close, Egon," Ray Stantz, a rounder, less dramatically coifed man to the blond's right announced.
"Close to what?" Winston, the black man beside him, whispered to the fourth member of the team.
Peter shrugged helplessly. "Beats me. I only came along to work on my tan."
"If these readings are correct," Egon began, "he should be right..." His voice trailed off as he looked up into eyes bluer than the ocean could ever hope to be. Their owner gave him a cocky smile and pushed his disheveled black hair into place. A curving silver earring swayed from his left ear, disturbed by his touch.
"Trying to get cable?" He grinned again.
"Hey, aren't you Alastair Loch the rock star?" Winston asked.
"Probably." He leaned closer to Egon's PKE meter. "So am I haunted?"
Egon met his gaze. "You're bleeding."
Alastair brushed one hand across his throat, then wiped it on his pants. "Guess a vampire bit me." He circled past Egon, never turning his back on the group. "Evening, gentlemen." He made a gesture, somewhere between a salute and a tip of the hat, laughed and walked off into the crowd.
Peter stared after him. "Wouldn't it chafe to wear jeans that tight?"
Winston nodded. "It hurts me just looking at them."
"Kelpie," Egon said, looking at Ray.
"Gesundheit," Peter replied.
"Did you see the earring?" Ray asked.
Egon nodded. "Celtic symbol for water."
Peter held up his hand. "Excuse me. How about some clues for the gibberish impaired?"
Egon adjusted his glasses and sighed. "What we have here is a very chaotic water spirit. An eac uisage. A water horse native to the lochs of Scotland."
"They like to drown people," Ray added.
"Now wait, man, that's Alastair Loch. He's famous. Are you trying to tell me he's a horse on the side?" Winston demanded.
"No, I'm trying to tell you he's Alastair Loch on the side," Egon replied.
"Why doesn't that make me feel any better?"
"Okay, so he's Elvis by day, Mr. Ed by night," Peter said. "What has that got to do with us? Unless I miss my guess, no one's paying us for this little safari." He turned to the blond man. "Right, Egon?"
Egon stared at the PKE meter, frowning in concentration. "Very strange."
"Now what's the matter?" Winston grumbled. "Did he bring his whole herd?"
"I'm getting something else, very faint, maybe under the pier..."
"Egon, we're going to lose him if we don't get moving," Ray urged, starting off into the crowd.
"Yes, yes, of course," the blond man replied absently, falling into step behind him.
Winston shook his head. "Man, we're going to end up on "Hard Copy" as the star stalkers of the week."
Peter brightened. "You really think so? Maybe we could stretch it into a movie of the week. Arsenio Hall could play you."
Winston shook his head. "Come on, Peter." He grabbed Peter by the arm and dragged him after the others.
Randi looked up from her book at the sound of the door opening. Her brother walked in, limping a bit, favoring his left shoulder. His t-shirt was torn wide open and what was left was bloodied. "Russell, what happened?"
"I don't want to talk about it."
Ian set aside his magazine. "It's a sad commentary on our times when even a vampire can't walk the streets alone at night."
"You're wet."
"I fell out a window."
Randi started for the bathroom. "Let me get you a towel."
Russell pulled off his t-shirt and wrung it out over the sink. He held it up, staring grimly at the rip, then tossed it into the trashcan. Randi handed him a towel and he set to work on drying his hair.
"Who's window?" Randi ventured.
Russell glared out at her from beneath the edge of the towel and said nothing. Randi grinned and lifted the towel away from his face to get a better look.
"Who was she?"
"Randi," Ian called, "haven't you tormented him enough already?"
The doorbell rang before she could reply. Randi turned and opened the door. Four men dressed in various color overalls stood outside. She studied them a moment, then called back over her shoulder. "Ian, did you forget to pay the garbage bill this month?"
Ray stepped forward. "We're not the garbage collectors, ma'am. We're the Ghostbusters."
"Ghostbusters," Randi repeated softly. She exchanged glances with Russell who stepped up behind her, towel still on his head. "Well, we haven't got any ghosts here."
Egon moved up beside Ray. "Is Dr. Matheson at home?"
"Well, yes. Ian!" Randi called. "It's for you."
"Dr. Spengler!" Ian rushed up and gripped Egon's hand warmly. "What a surprise." He smiled at the others. "These must be your associates."
"Yes, Ray Stantz, Winslow Zeddmore and Peter Venkman."
"Ian Matheson," Ian said, shaking hands with each in turn. "Please come inside." He gestured toward Randi and Russell. "This is Randi Wallace Michaels and her twin brother Russell."
"Charmed, I'm sure," Peter said, gathering up Randi's hand and planting a kiss on her knuckles. "Have no fear, Venkman is here."
"That's what she's afraid of," Winslow said, trying to steer Peter on into the living room. Peter broke away and returned to Randi who was busily washing bloodstains out of the sink.
"Could I have a drink of water?"
"Of course," she replied, quickly filling a glass with water and pushing it toward him. Peter took it, leaned back against the sink and smiled.
"So is this business or pleasure?" Ian asked.
"Business," Egon replied. "We need your expertise. I remember you presenting a paper on lycanthropes and other shapeshifters at the last Paranormal Convention."
"I do have a fair amount of expertise on the subject," Ian admitted.
"What Egon is trying to say is that your next door neighbor's a horse," Peter interrupted.
"A horse?" Ian asked.
"A horse?" Russell looked toward the door.
"A kelpie actually," Egon corrected.
"You haven't noticed anything out of the ordinary lately, have you?" Ray asked.
Randi smiled. "Nothing unusual ever goes on here."
"Did you know you have fur in your icecube tray?" Peter asked, his head buried in the freezer.
"That's what happens when you don't defrost," Randi replied. She cast a pleading look at Russell. He nodded, tossed her his wet towel and slung one arm around Peter's shoulders.
"Come on, let me show you the view." He dragged the protesting Peter along with him into the living room. "See that big black area? That's where the ocean would be if it was light enough to see it."
"What we propose to do is set up surveillance on the house," Egon began.
"And nab him the minute he steps out the door," Ray concluded.
"Surveillance from where?" Randi asked warily.
"We were hoping we could borrow your living room," Ray said.
"You want to spend the night here with us?" Ian asked.
"That was the general idea," Egon replied.
"I'll fix breakfast," Peter offered. He looked at Randi. "Got any pop tarts?"
"Well, this is a little unexpected, Dr. Spengler," Ian said, clearing his throat.
"Egon," Egon corrected.
"Egon. Perhaps we could have a moment alone to discuss it?"
"Of course."
Ian smiled again and herded Russell and Randi toward the master bedroom.
"Hmmm," Egon muttered.
"Don't you think they're acting a little peculiar?" Ray asked.
"Oh, I don't know, Ray. If four strangers appeared at my door, told me my neighbor was really a magic horse and asked to spend the night, I might want to discuss it a little first," Peter replied.
"But you always were the cautious type." Winston grinned.
Ray shook his head. "Look at these readings." He held out the PKE meter. "This place is hotter than a firecracker."
"Residual energy from next door?" Egon moved closer to look.
"No, something closer."
"It could be something Dr. Matheson is keeping for research. Maybe even some of these books have supernatural energy of their own."
"Maybe Dr. Matheson is a kelpie too," Peter said. Egon and Ray glared at him. "Hey, it was just a suggestion."
Randi slumped down onto the foot of the bed. "What are we going to do now? If we throw them out into the street, they're going to get suspicious and if they stay, they may get a surprise."
"The full moon is a week off," Ian replied.
"Who says they won't stay a week?"
Russell pulled a clean shirt out of the drawer and slipped it over his head.
"Russell, any ideas?" Ian asked.
"Move into a hotel?"
"Better than that," Randi prompted.
"Move into a hotel with cable?"
"Suit yourself. You're the one who'll have to spend the day in the sock drawer."
Russell moved toward the window. "How about this? There's nothing incriminating in the front room, right?"
"Of course not."
"Okay, then. Ian, you go out and tell them it's okay to stay but you and Randi are going to bed. That way you can hide back here."
"What about you?" Randi asked.
"I'm going to visit the neighbors." He grinned, hopped onto the window sill and leaped out into the night.
Russell pounded on the redwood front door of the house on the left. Alastair answered a few moments later, clad only in jeans and an undershirt. He was holding a wet washcloth to his neck.
"Not you again." He pulled the washcloth away from the wound, studied the bloodstain, then put it back in place. "You know, most people are happy with an autograph."
"We have to talk," Russell replied.
Alastair stared past him at the modified hearse parked in the next driveway. He glanced around warily, grabbed Russell by the shoulder and dragged him into the house.
"Looks like you've got company."
"That's what I need to talk to you about. I have Ghostbusters in my living room and I can't get rid of them because they're looking for you."
"I was pretty careless back there on the pier." He held out the bloody washcloth. "But you provoked me."
"I wouldn't have come after you if you hadn't gone into that empty building."
"Good point." Alastair motioned for Russell to follow him as he walked back to the bathroom sink to rinse the washcloth out. "I knew those Ghostbusters were lurking around too."
"You did?"
Alastair nodded. "Yeah, it was in the paper. They're in town for some kind of conference and they promised to check out the werewolf sighting down at the pier."
"That was my sister."
"You must have some interesting family reunions."
"You don't know the half of it."
Alastair looked up to study his neck in the mirror. His eyes drifted to the reflection next to his. "Hey, how come you show up in the mirror?"
Russell stared at him a moment, then turned to look at his own reflection. "I don't know. I haven't in a long time." He looked back at Alastair. "This is very weird."
Alastair snapped his fingers. "Kelpie blood."
"Kelpie blood?" Russell asked, staring at his own face.
"You drank kelpie blood. It's got magic in it."
"What do you mean, magic? What's going to happen to me?"
Alastair shrugged. "I don't know. I'm only half kelpie. My mother went to Scotland on vacation and I was her souvenir. I guess Dad had quite a way with the ladies. I didn't know myself until that unfortunate wading pool incident."
"But you can control what you are?"
Alastair nodded. "I can, but the question is, can you?"
Russell frowned into the mirror and his reflection stared glumly back.
I don't like this," Randi said, dropping down onto the end of the bed. "I feel like we're being held prisoner in our own house."
Ian shrugged and sat down beside her. "I don't know. I think it's rather exciting. I mean, just imagine. What if we are living next door to a kelpie?"
"What if that little gizmo the blond guy has can tell I'm a werewolf?"
"We're days away from the full moon." Ian put his arm around her. "And besides, their specialty is spirits. My specialty is shapeshifters." he smiled and brushed the hair away from her eyes. "Now, give me a kiss and stop worrying." Randi gave him a quick, passionless peck on the cheek. "Come on, you can do better than that," He smiled hopefully. Randi frowned and looked away, then turned back, her expression softening, a wicked gleam coming into her eyes.
"I'll give you a kiss," she said, grabbing hold of his shoulders and throwing him back onto the bed.
Ian lay sprawled spread-eagled as she fastened her mouth on his, then wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer. He closed his eyes, savoring the soft moist touch of her lips. Something tickled his cheek. He laughed. "Randi, we are just going to have to do something about..." He opened his eyes. "Your whiskers..." His voice trailed off into silence.
Instead of a woman, he was holding a small brown seal in his arms. "Randi?" He hesitated. "Russell?" No, of course not. It couldn't be Russell. But Russell was the Alaskan snow vampire. He was the one who turned into seals and lemmings.
The seal in his arms convulsed once and shifted into Randi.
"What happened?" she asked.
Before he could tell her, the bedroom door burst open and Egon strode purposefully into the room, PKE meter held forth like a compass.
"Egon," Ray was saying, trying unsuccessfully to hold Egon back. "You can't just barge into someone's bedroom."
"It's gone now. One brief surge and now nothing." Egon waved the PKE meter about, oblivious to the room's other occupants.
"Egon," Ray whispered, tugging at Egon's sleeve, his round face red with embarrassment.
"Hmmm..."
"And he calls me insensitive," Peter said, entering the room to grab Egon's other arm. Ray gave him a grateful look and together they dragged Egon back out into the hall. "I'd lock the door or he's liable to be in and out of here all night," Peter called out, closing the door behind him.
"Something very strange is going on," Ian said.
Randi licked her lips. "Have we got any tuna? I've got a real craving for some fish."
"Russell, Russell?" Russell blinked, shook his head and looked at Alastair. "Are you all right?"
"I don't know."
"I thought you said your sister was the werewolf."
Russell looked back at the mirror. "Uh-oh."
"I must say it would be a bit more relaxing knowing that the worst thing you could turn into was a seal." Ian stroked her hair. "And even as a seal, you were lovely. All huge brown eyes and tickly whiskers." He kissed her gently on the lips. "Although I much prefer you the say you are now." He kissed her again, more deeply, then drew away, waiting for the inevitable change, but nothing happened. He smiled. "This is an interesting development."
Russell convulsed, a shudder running through his entire body. He drew his arms up to his face, then crouched, pulling his knees to his chest. Thick white fur sprouted from his skin in several places, curved silver claws grew from his fingertips and a long pointed snout burst from the center of his face. He threw back his head and let out a long, bloodcurdling howl, then lunged for Alastair but he was too quick for him. Russell snapped as Alastair jumped over him, trying to turn and race after him, but his paws slipped on the bathroom tile and he spun off across the floor, slamming headfirst into the side of the bathtub. He rose cautiously, shaking his head to clear the ringing, then leaped for the safety of the hall.
"You aren't going to change back as quickly this time, are you?" Alastair asked, standing behind the sofa.
Russell lowered his head, his ice blue eyes narrowing to slits. He stalked slowly into the front room, then sprang. His leap was short and he landed on the coffee table, shattering it into glass shards and splinters. He shook the debris from his fur and jumped again.
"Good answer." Alastair dodged as a man but came back up as a horse catching Russell under the chin with his back hooves. Russell staggered, clearly dazed but recovered quickly, and stepped back a few paces to study the situation. Alastair pinned his ears back against his neck and waited.
With a growl, the werewolf made another attack but the kelpie reared, pulling his forelegs out of harm's way. Russell slid to a halt, Alastair grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and threw him as hard as he could against the front door. The wood gave, spilling werewolf and door fragments into the street.
Peter shifted uncomfortably and wrapped his arms around himself to ward off the damp chill of the nearby Pacific Ocean. "Go up on the roof, Peter. Keep an eye on things, Peter. Freeze your buns off, Peter."
The walkie talkie at his feet sputtered to life. "How's it going, Peter?" Ray's voice filtered through the static.
Peter picked it up and depressed the 'speak' button. "I've lost all feeling in my lower extremities." He turned toward the ocean. "But on a cheerier note, I think the surf's up."
"What about next door?"
"Oh, nothing much. Just a large white wolf being chased by a big black horse." He paused. "On second thought, maybe you guys better get outside and take a look."
Peter ran to the edge of the roof and shinnied down the ladder. Winston already had Ecto-1's engine warming up as Egon and Ray piled into the converted ambulance. Peter jumped in last.
"Which way?" Winston asked.
"South, back toward Santa Monica."
Ecto-1 peeled out of the driveway leaving a trail of rubber down PCH.
Ian lifted his head. "Did you hear something?"
"Just heavy breathing," Randi replied, pulling his mouth back down to her own.
Russell raced along the highway, claws digging into the asphalt and sending up a spray of black pebbles behind him. He glanced back at the black stallion pursuing him and put on another burst of speed, tongue flapping in the wind. The lights of the pier sparkled to the right but he veered away from them, turning left into Santa Monica proper.
He found himself face to grill with an oncoming car and he sprang at the headlights with a growl. His body collided into the windshield with a bonerattling thump, then slid off onto the curb. The car careened off into a fire hydrant, setting loose a spray of pressurized water.
Russell stood shakily, somewhat stunned by the encounter, then, alerted by the clatter of hooves, sped off again before Alastair could catch him. He avoided any further confrontations with cars by keeping to the sidewalk, then turned onto a cross street that was curiously free of traffic. Tiny white lights twinkled in the trees and in the center of the street topiary dinosaurs spat water into shallow fountains.
The werewolf paused, confused, then swung his head around to regard the patrons of the outdoor cafe. Someone screamed. Everyone began running. Russell howled and eagerly gave chase, leaping over fallen tables and chairs, pausing only to grab an overturned steak here or an upended chicken breast there.
"I think they went this way," Winston said drily as they drove through the plume of the erupting hydrant. Traffic came to a standstill immediately thereafter. Fleeing people clogged the street in both directions.
"Looks like we walk from here," Peter commented. He threw open his door. "Anybody bring their wolfsbane?"
"This is highly unusual," Egon muttered. "Why would a kelpie be chasing a werewolf?"
"Maybe it was something he said," Peter suggested.
"They must have been after each other before. Remember those strange readings we got back at the pier?" Ray fastened on his proton pack. "And who knows whether the packs will have any effect on either one of them."
"Thanks for bringing that up, Ray. We all needed a jolt of confidence building right now."
"Come on, we've got to stop those two before anyone gets hurt." Winston started forward.
"What is this place anyway? Why is everybody wandering around in the street?"
"This is the Third Street Promenade. It has been closed to traffic so pedestrians can stroll and shop without fear of being hit by a bus," Egon replied.
"Too many people running around screaming for my taste," Peter said. "Traffic is much more relaxing."
The white werewolf snarled, exposing his huge curved fangs. The waiter with his foot caught under a wrought iron table struggled to free himself. Alastair sprang over the low retaining wall, grabbed Russell by the hind leg and flung him into the side of the building. A few loosened bricks tumbled down on top of him. The kelpie kicked the table off the shivering waiter and turned to check on Russell.
"Whaz going on?" he asked groggily, rubbing his head where he'd been nicked by a brick.
"Here," Alastair grabbed a tablecloth in his teeth and flung it to him. "You're naked."
"How'd we get out here?" Russell whispered.
"You turned into a wolf again."
"But there isn't a full moon tonight. The only other time Randi turns into a wolf is when she and Ian try to... Oh." He paused. "They must have figured it out."
"Well," Ian said, smiling broadly.
"Well," Randi agreed, cuddling closer and setting her head on his chest.
"That was certainly worth waiting for."
"Hmmm." Randi kissed him on the chin. "Let's do it again."
"But what about those men in the room? What if they hear?"
Randi crawled over on top of him, straddling his naked body. "Let 'em."
Peter strode into the center of the street beside one of the dinosaur fountains. "Have no fear, the Ghostbusters are here."
"Ghostbusters?" Russell asked. "But how did they find out?"
"I think it was the howling."
"Rrrrrrrr," Russell replied.
"No, not like that, the louder one," Alastair began, then paused and looked down to find Russell growling and ripping the tablecloth to shreds. "Not now." The werewolf looked up. Alastair bopped him on the head with another brick.
"I thought I heard something," Winston said. He looked toward the cafe. "Egon, try over there."
Egon waved his PKE meter toward the devastated dining area. "I'm getting something. It's getting stronger."
"Egon, look out!" Ray grabbed hold of his arm and pulled him backward behind the spitting Tyrannosaur. The werewolf splashed into the fountain and tried to plunge through the dinosaur but got his head caught between two of the topiary giant's ribs.
"Blast it!" Peter yelled.
"No, don't. Ray and Egon are too close."
"Where's the horse?"
"I can't see him."
"I don't like this at all." Peter moved closer to the fountain, his weapon aimed toward the werewolf. "Hurry up, guys."
"I think I hurt my leg," Egon replied.
"Great timing." He watched as Ray helped Egon struggle to his feet.
Russell pulled his head free of the dinosaur and turned toward Peter, growling.
Peter looked back to find the white werewolf leaping for his throat. He struggled to get a shot off but his fumbling hands couldn't get a grip on the trigger.
Suddenly, something caught him by the seat of the pants, carrying him up and over the oncoming werewolf. He looked back between his legs and found he was dangling from the mouth of the kelpie.
"The kelpie's got Peter," Winston yelled, swinging his proton gun around. Ray grabbed the barrel and forced it down.
"Wait, I think the kelpie is on our side."
"Blast the werewolf! Blast the werewolf!" Peter shouted as Russell spun around to make another charge.
Egon, Winston and Ray turned their proton rays on the galloping werewolf. He leaped in the air as the blasts hit him, legs flying in every direction, then dropped to the ground in a heap of singed fur.
"We got 'im!" Peter yelled. The kelpie released him and he fell to the street.
"Stand back, Peter," Egon said, turning his gun toward Alastair.
"No, wait, you can't blast him. He's not dangerous." Peter stood up, dusted himself off and patted the kelpie on the forehead. "Besides, I have all his records."
"What about the wolf?" Winston asked. "Is it dead? Can you even kill a werewolf?"
"Technically, a werewolf is a human being, not a spirit. Therefore, it can be killed." Egon stepped forward cautiously, waiting for the smoldering lump to move. "However, common knowledge has it that a werewolf always reverts to its human form when it dies. This one has not."
"Should we blast it again?" Ray asked.
"No, let's see if it's breathing first." Egon picked up a piece of broken glass and moved forward, limping on his sore leg.
"Let me do that, man. You're hurt," Winston said.
"No, you just keep your proton gun ready. I don't think we have anything to worry about."
"It smells pretty barbecued," Peter agreed.
Alastair stood behind him, watching silently.
Egon set his proton pack aside and knelt beside the still body of the white werewolf. He held the glass out by the creature's nose. The surface remained smooth and dry, unfogged by living breath. He held his hand in the same spot, paused a moment, moved it away. He stood and wiped his hand on his overalls. "I'd say he's dead."
"All right!" Peter yelled, fists in the air. "I wonder if we can charge this to the city?"
"So now what do we do with it?" Winston asked.
"We'll let the Animal Control deal with it. We don't have any facilities here," Egon replied.
"It was a shame we had to kill it. It really was a beautiful animal," Ray said.
"I'd like to hear you say that when it's coming at your face," Peter responded. He gave the kelpie a final pat on the nose, then started after the others.
Alastair watched as they walked across the Promenade, talking and laughing loudly, making their way back to their car. As soon as they were out of sight, he walked over to the charred mound of fur and nudged it with his nose.
"Okay, Russell, they're gone."
No response.
"Russell?"
Alastair grabbed a mouthful of fur and skin and flung the motionless werewolf up on his back. He shifted his shoulders, rearranging the load, then started for home.
Randi smiled and snuggled closer. Ian sighed and stroked her hair.
"Marvelous," he breathed softly.
"Better than that."
"Stupendous."
"Better."
"Monumental."
Randi kissed him on the chest. "Now you're getting warmer."
Ian smiled contently. "Yes, I am." He settled back into the pillows. "I just had a thought."
"Not now, honey. I'm exhausted."
"No, not about that." He kissed her on the forehead. "No, I was just thinking about Russell."
"Russell?"
"Well, yes. I mean, if you're turning into seals..."
"Then he's turning into the wolf." Randi sat up. "Why didn't we think of that before?"
Ian shrugged. "Lust clouding our judgement, perhaps?" He jumped out of bed. "Now what happened to my trousers?"
Alastair took the beach route home, plodding slowly along the seaward side of the beach, letting the waves lap around his fetlocks. There was less chance of being seen here. Most of the beach was dark and houses hid it from the road. He snorted, lowered his nose to drink some of the briny water and felt the weight shift on his back. After a moment's thought, he stepped out further into the surf and let his passenger tumble off into the water. The waves swallowed up the singed werewolf, then threw the somewhat sunburned-looking body of Russell Michaels back up onto the beach. He sat up slowly, holding his head.
"Are you okay?"
"Define 'okay'," Russell replied.
"It's a good thing you're already dead."
Russell shivered. "I'm naked again, aren't I?"
Alastair shifted back to human form and peeled off his undershirt. "Here." He tossed it.
Russell caught it and quickly tied the cloth around his waist. "How's that?"
"Quite fetching."
"I'll stay in the water until we get home." He ran a hand over his head. "What happened to my hair?"
"You don't want to know."
Russell got to his feet and staggered deeper into the water. Alastair splashed in after him in order to help keep him upright.
Randi threw the bedroom door open and ran out into the hall. The house was empty. "Ian!"
"What's wrong?" He rushed out to join her, still struggling with his shirt.
"They're gone."
"I can't say that I'm sorry."
"But what if they're after Russell?"
"Think positively. Maybe they're only chasing that poor man they think is a kelpie." The doorbell rang. "I'll get it." He finished buttoning his shirt and opened the door. Russell stood there, dripping, grinning slightly, clad only in a wet undershirt, propped up by an apologetic-looking Alastair Loch who wore only a wet pair of jeans.
"Hi, Ian. This is Alastair," Russell said.
"I'm the kelpie," Alastair supplied helpfully. He looked toward Randi. "You must be the other werewolf." He winked at Ian. "Nice hickey."
"Russell!" Randi raced forward and wrapped her arm around him.
"Hi, sis."
"Are you really a kelpie?" Ian asked, his eyes lighting up.
Alastair relinquished Russell to his sister's care. "Sometimes."
"Fascinating."
"What happened to your hair?" Randi asked, helping her brother to the couch.
"Bad perm. What happened to your neck?"
"Bad behavior." She sat down next to him and leaned closer to his ear. "I don't know how you did it but thanks for trading with me."
Russell shrugged. "Hey, what's a brother for?"
She kissed him on the cheek. "I have just one question."
"Shoot."
"Who has to sleep in the icebox tonight?"