"That your real name, Taylor?"
"It is."
"Well, Mister Taylor, how about you letting me know what you're doing here. I am assuming this isn't a social call."
"I have come to kill you, Sam," said Taylor, taking a tranquilizer gun handed to him by Hidalgo.
"Then I would prefer you call me Mister Lehrmann," said Lehrmann. "I don't fancy being on a first name basis with you at the moment."
"Fair enough," said Taylor.
"There is the question of why," said Lehrmann. "You one of those guys who is sexually impotent and only gets off on killing werewolves?"
"Are there many of those?" asked Taylor curiously.
"You hear things," said Lehrmann.
"No doubt," said Taylor. "No, this is a little tradition of mine this time of year. The last full moon before Christmas, I hunt and kill one werewolf."
"Wouldn't it be more fun if you stuck with the mistletoe and a little caroling?" suggested Lehrmann. "Chestnuts roasting on an open fire, and all that?"
"My sister was killed by a werewolf," said Taylor. "Christmas Eve, twenty-two years ago."
"I'm sorry," said Lehrmann. "You know it wasn't me."
"But I don't know that," said Taylor. "Not that it matters, not that I care. Even if you're not the one who killed my sister, you probably got some blood on your paws somewhere along the line, even with your nifty little yoga techniques."
"Most of us don't kill humans," said Lehrmann. "Unlike humans."
"Nevertheless, one of you did," said Taylor. "And she was very dear to me."
"I'm sorry for your loss, I truly am," said Lehrmann.
"Are you about to beg for your life?" asked Taylor.
"Would it do me any good?" asked Lehrmann. "Has it ever done anyone any good?"
"Not so far," said Taylor. "But there's always a first time."
"Yeah, well, in that case, f**k you," said Lehrmann.
Taylor pointed the tranquilizer gun through the bars and shot him in the leg.
"Ow," said Lehrmann, staring down at the dart. He pulled it out and threw it on the floor. "So the plan is you tranquilize me and then hunt me down?"
"No, the plan is I kill you slowly," said Taylor. "How does the leg feel?"
"Like it has a needle stuck in it, you f**k," said Lehrmann. "You better hope that shit works fast, because if I'm - "
He stopped as the burning sensation kicked in.
"Hurts, doesn't it?" observed Taylor. "At least, I hope it does."
"What was in the needle?" asked Lehrmann, his heart racing.
"A sizable dose of aconite," said Taylor. "The pain is nasty, but then comes the numbness."
"Aconite," repeated Lehrmann.
"From the plant Aconitum vulparia," said Taylor, watching him intently. "Commonly known as - "
"Yellow wolfsbane," said Lehrmann.
"Of course you would be familiar with it," continued Taylor. "Folklore says that it's fatal to werewolves. The truth is, it's fatal to pretty much everybody. Nasty little neurotoxin in a pretty yellow flower that will kill you even if you only pick it up barehanded. I grow my own. Very carefully."
"How long does it take?" asked Lehrmann.
"The amount you just absorbed will kill a man in about an hour," said Taylor. "From my experience, and I can't say that I have a large enough sample to conclude this scientifically, about ninety minutes to two hours to kill a werewolf, depending on the strength of the werewolf."
"That gate opens long before that," said Lehrmann. "And I am pretty damn strong."
"A daunting prospect if you could walk," said Taylor.
The werewolf sagged to one knee.
"The literature describes the sensation as numbness spreading through the body, eventually stopping the heart," said Taylor. "The symptoms are said to be fairly unpleasant. Again, in my experience, that is a gross understatement. Werewolves seem to be particularly susceptible to it. And the best part - do you want to know the best part?"
"Not really," said Lehrmann.
"The best part is that you will be conscious until the very end."
"You bastard," muttered Lehrmann, trying to stand and failing.
"What is lovely about this particular kill is that the full moon fell on Christmas Eve again," said Taylor. "Only the second time that's happened since my sister's death, given the vagaries of the lunar cycle and the solar calendar. In honor of the holiday, I thought I should make this one special."
"Lucky me," said Lehrmann.
"No doubt, the irony of being helpless in a building full of guard dogs has already struck you," said Taylor.
"Sure has," said Lehrmann.
"Such beautiful animals," said Taylor. "And you treat them so well. I thought that we would give them a little Christmas treat."
Hidalgo and Edwards carried in the butcher's block and the electric saw. They placed it by Taylor, then stood back, weapons at the ready.
"Once you are sufficiently paralyzed," said Taylor, "I am going to take this dandy little saw of yours and chop you into dog food, piece by piece. And you will be conscious until the moment your heart stops. You had better pray that it stops quickly. Then I am going to feed you to your own dogs. Mind you, the aconite in your bloodstream isn't going to do them any good, but that's the risk with fresh meat."
"You sick f**k!" shouted Lehrmann.
"You are going to be the death of the creatures you love most dearly in the world," said Taylor, squatting to see him better. "More than that pathetic lush who wasted herself on you."
Boss?
Lehrmann almost didn't sense it.
Boss?
Nicky? he thought.
There was a dissonance of thoughts, then Nicky hushed the others.
Me, Max, and some new dog, says he just got placed today.
Waldo.
"Mister Lehrmann, are you still with us?" asked Taylor.
Lehrmann moaned in pain.
"Not as strong as he thought," commented Edwards.
Boss, how many are there?
Four, thought Lehrmann.
We can take them. They left the door open.
No. They're armed.
Others will be here. One hour, maybe less.
I don't have an hour, thought Lehrmann.
The lock beeped and clicked, and the gate swung open. He tried to lurch forward, but neither leg was working.