Wolf's Deal: A Nick Lupo Novella (The Nick Lupo Series) by W.D. Gagliani

When such instincts made themselves known he’d started to follow them with
less questioning, less rationalizing.
    Now the
feeling, the sense , the instinctive
twinge that made him try to find the guy in the hoodie took him toward the
casino, whose walls towered over them all – it was a lot closer than he’d
thought. He crossed what was left of the approach, a concrete apron
interspersed with pebbly decorative slabs, and scanned the thin rank of people between
him and the door. No twinges .
    Inside the
main entrance atrium was a wide, round lobby full of people, none of whom
looked particularly happy to be there. They gave off the feeling of facing a
grim destiny, a looming encounter with the goddess of luck, Fortuna, already
knowing it would not go well but seemingly stuck on an irreversible path.
    The interior
of the casino seemed to extend across the horizon with three main aisles of
beeping, jangling slot and poker machines. He knew they’d give him a headache
if he was forced to work inside this vast cavern of pseudo-Indian clichés and
ridiculous machinery of greed. Lupo could almost imagine electronic money
flowing like digital blood into the veins and arteries of some huge, cackling
Lovecraftian monster perched inside a brick cavern below the marble floor.
    Lupo shook
his head to dismiss his brief philosophical foray. Stick to the task at hand . He scanned the people quickly, but there
were no hoodies in sight.
    Problem was
he had no idea where to go. He thought about compelling the Creature to help,
but he couldn’t quite imagine how or what the help would look like. And anyway
the Creature was notably skittish about being conscripted – the wolf
might be a part of him, but it did not always take his commands easily. After
all the years, this still drove Lupo crazy. He felt he should be in charge, and
if there was a way to take full control, he was still unaware of it. He dropped
the idea… for now. Instead he finally selected a direction and stalked inside,
suddenly understanding the casino’s mindset in making every aisle, every
alcove, every rounded corner similar to every other.
    You could walk around for hours and never find
the exit .
    That was one
way to keep people playing games. And losing money.
    He looked
over his shoulder and the round lobby had completely disappeared, hidden behind
pillars tricked-up to resemble huge gnarled trees, and partial walls lined with
banks of slot and video poker machines. Depressed, intense-looking people
huddled over half of them, watching their own life’s blood disappear into the
veins of the gigantic tentacled monster he visualized lurking below.
    Have to stop reading all that Lovecraft .
    He shook his
head again and kept an eye out for hoodies, but every one he spotted was worn
with the hood spread flaccid on the person’s back. So it would even be harder
to find the guy he thought had eyeballed him and set off his “spider sense.” Wolf -sense?
    Whatever .
    Rage sparked
lightning-like through his limbs. He slowed his pace so as to scan as many
faces and jackets as possible, but the farther he got inside the enormous
building the more he was forced to admit that he suspected he’d chosen the
wrong aisle. So now what, angle toward one side or the other and try a
different main aisle, or was it hopeless? The guy could be anywhere at all.
    Fuck!
    Chances were
he was wrong and chasing his own tail. Would the fucking Archer really stalk
his prey inside? Wasn’t he an outdoor killer?
    Lupo
selected a cross aisle and went left, but he sensed the trail was cold.
    He stalked
down a few identical aisles, but then he gave up.
    Was he sensing, or the Creature? Didn’t
matter, the trail – such as it was – seemed to be cold.

 
 
    THE ARCHER

 
    He hadn't
thought ahead too many moves – or targets.
    That was how
you became predictable. He didn't want predictability. He wanted them to piece
together his message, feel his fury, and eventually understand… even