Maggie grabbed the card back and stared at it, and then off towards the direction the little man had gone. She stared for a long while before turning back to the group.

                “You know, I was going to say something really stupid right now, but then I was thinking that maybe it wasn't so stupid."

                Edward sucked in a long breath and held for a moment before blowing it out. “And what might that be?"

                “Well, I was thinking the Edward Hyde is the name of the villain in the book, and Dr. Jekyll was the good guy, right?"

                “Yes, more or less. Mr. Hyde was the bad side of the main character. But the key here is that those are only literary characters, written a long time ago."

                Maggie was looking at the card."I know that. The author was Stevenson, right?"

                Her grandmother spoke up. “Yes. I remember father had a copy of it in the palace library. It was a very interesting story. I'm afraid I haven't read it in many decades."

                The girl sniffed the card. “And there is no way a fictional character can come to life, is there?"

                Edward smiled. “Not even with our powers, strange though they are and at times unpredictable, can anyone create something out of nothing."

                “Right. But you can create characters from real life can't you?"

                “Meaning?'

                “Meaning that I have a vague feeling that this little guy is a lot more than he seems. Louis Belfour. The name isn't familiar. And yet I think it should be."

                She was correct, for the more he repeated it in his mind, the more it stuck.  He finally grabbed her cell phone, and once he waved down a waitress and got the wifi login, he punched up the name. He stared at the screen for a moment, and then turned it so that she could see it.

                “Well I'll be damned. You don't think it's a coincidence do you?"

                “Nothing in my life is left to coincidence anymore kiddo. The real question is what are we going to do with this information?"

                Everyone else was still in the dark over what they were discussing. Alexei cleared his throat. “Would you care to enlighten the rest of us? Who was that man?"

                “I can't say for certain of course, but I think he was leaving us some clues on purpose."

                “What purpose?"

                “That is what I wish I knew right now.  If I'm right, and I think Maggie agrees with me, he could prove to be as dangerous as Albert Fish or the cardinal, and maybe even infinitely worse."

                Kathryn spoke. “I get where you're going with this, but as you said, Mr. Hyde was a fictional character. The man who wrote that book died over a century ago."

                “So did my grandmother and her siblings, and yet here they are. We know that Leonardo is still alive, making him the oldest of The Kind. So I am not putting anything past anyone at the moment. If this really is Robert Louis Stevenson, then he is very, very old, and if his book is an account based on his life, then I think his bad side would be inversely worse in comparison to his good side. And he was very nice, don't you think?"

                There was momentary silence.

                “So what are we supposed to do now?"

                Alexei was quick to answer. “I think we should just leave him alone. I have heard of no real trouble in London as of late, so I would think that he has his problem under control, assuming your suppositions are even close to being correct."

                Maria looked thoughtful. “You may be correct, but there could be more afoot here than appearances allow. Remember our linage."

                “Our lineage means nothing these days sister. We are dead to the world, and we are better off for it."

                “That is not what I meant, and I think you know it."

                He groaned. “We will not dredge that up. I say we leave and act as though we never met this man. If not for an act of fate, we would never have met in the first place. All this can do, if we drag it out, is open up a lot of old wounds and possibly rend some new ones."

                Maggie held up her hand. “Wait. What the hell are you talking about?"

                Anna shushed her. “Watch you're language dear. We are in public." She lowered her voice even farther. “Are you unaware of who you're great, great grandmother was?"

                “Sorry. I didn't go back very far in the genealogy. There was a lot of crisscrossing going on. I didn't think there was much point at the time, and I haven't had it on my to-do list since."

                Her grandmother looked around to make sure no one else was listening. “Our mother was a wonderful lady by the name of Alexandra. She was born with the name and title of Alix of Hesse and by Rhine."

                “OK. If that's supposed to mean something to me, I'll admit I'm drawing a blank."

                Anna sighed. “So much history will be lost to the ages at this rate. That old book, whatever they call it, needs to be updated. Mother was the daughter of a queen you know."

                “No, I didn't know. Which one?"

                Anna cleared her throat. “Queen Victoria."

                “What? The queen of England?"

                “Shhhhhh! Yes, that Queen Victoria. Haven't you ever heard about the royal disease?"

                “Yeah, but they said it was…" Maggie looked incredulous and dropped her voice. “You mean that the modern royals might have the same, errrr, condition that we do?"

                “They might. They are cousins after all. Not everyone has it. But there is a chance of it being the case. Alexei is worried that our presence here has suddenly had a decided twist. I for one agree. If this little man is indeed the famed author, and he is as old as that would make him, who else with the werewolf ability lurks in the shadows of London?"

                Maggie was considering things. “Well, I have heard that they like to hunt. They do have a private estate. It might explain a few odd things that you hear about them from time to time. And the present queen is old…and her mom was like what, a hundred when she died?"

                “One hundred and two to be precise, which isn't all that old, depending on who you are. Like you have seen, the traits are variable. Leonardo is remarkable, but his preservation is outside of the normal capacity for even the strongest werewolf. But Mr. Hyde, or Belfour, or whoever he happens to be; if he is really the creator of Jekyll and Hyde, and the potion in the story has its foundations in reality, then there might be something we need to know about him."

                Edward stood up. “I'm going to use the restroom. When I get back, I want you all to have come to the conclusion that we will return to sightseeing and forget about this guy. I for one don't wish to mess up my upcoming nuptials. I've had my fill of violence and mystery to last me a lifetime."

                He found his way to the closest lavatory and installed himself behind one of the doors. He did have to go, but his reason for leaving the table was because his head was starting to buzz. He had a feeling it was something trying to come through to his brain, and he didn't want anyone to know. He had been dealing with these visions for a while, and they often threw him a curve ball. He tended to see what he expected to see, and not anything more. They were as good as useless to him, like seeing the fuzzy transmission of a television station from a foreign country featuring a show in some language you didn't understand. You might recognize the images, but you had no idea what any of it meant.

                He sat there, closed his eyes and concentrated with all his might. He could see the little man, and he did seem to have a tenuous connection with the book, though whether that link was weak from the passage of years or from something else he couldn't tell. He tried to branch out from him and see where there might be more connections, but everything just sort of faded out. It seemed like his “spidey senses" were as useless as ever.

                But then he saw a face; a hideously contorted face, full of anger and rage. It was frightening to behold, and not because of the lupine, feral features. It was frightening because those features were lacking, and the expected appearance of the acceptable werewolf look was gone, to be replaced by those same features devoid of fur. It was an exaggerated human face, pulled out to length like putty, and yet all the more horrible for the pale skin and beady, red eyes.

                He shuddered. He had enough of this. He was torn between the desire to keep moving forward and the nagging wish to have life return to the way it was. As angry as he was with his parents, he was beginning to understand what they had been trying to save him from. The life of a werewolf was hardly a pretty one, not with all of the characters he kept bumping into. Like calls to like. That was true. He had to wonder just how many of The Kind there were hiding out in plain sight.

                He could also see the flaw in gathering them together. Maybe his plan, like the one his grandparents had tried to carry out at Wolf Creek was nothing more than a schoolboy fantasy. It was probably best to keep everyone who had the ability to change as far away from one another as possible.  The elders, and he was including the possibility of this little man among them; they had survived by staying low and out of sight. And yet, this notion riled him. He didn't want to be forced into hiding by what he was.

                As usual, his thoughts just made him angry.

                He flushed and opened the door to the stall. He nearly ran into the little man he had just been contemplating.

                “Oh, hello again!"

                The man smiled. “And hello to you."

                “I thought you had left."

                “Oh, I forgot that I wanted to get some confections for a friend of mine, so I backtracked to have the counter prepare a box for me. The journey home is long enough I decided that emptying my bladder was a practical idea."

                “And you weren't following me?"

                “Following you me dear boy? Why ever would I follow you to the loo? I know where your table is at upstairs."

                “Nothing. Just call it mild paranoia."

                “Ahh. Nothing like a little paranoia to keep you healthy and alert. There is no value to being complacent in life. But if you'll excuse me, I need to make use of the toilet behind you and be on my way. You have my card son, so don't be afraid to look me up."

                “OK Robert, I will."

                “Good enough then."

                Edward stepped to one side and headed up the stairs. The look on his face was unreadable to those still gathered around the table.

                “What's wrong?"

                “I ran into our little mystery man at the restroom."

                “And"

                “We had a brief exchange, which amounted to nothing really, except for one thing."

                “And that was?"

                “I called him Robert and he didn't flinch or correct me."

                “So you think he really is Robert Louis Stevenson?"

                “I don't know. He might just be hard of hearing and paid no notice to what I said. But I think maybe we should look him up. I have this vague uneasy feeling that there is something we can learn from him that he wished to impart. Then again, I might just be full of shit."

                Maggie giggled. “Didn't you just come from the bathroom?"

                “Shut up Mags. Think about the Jekyll and Hyde story. If it's based on something that happened in his life, don't you think that it might mean something?"

                “Maybe, but he was a writer and maybe a story is just a story."

                “And maybe it's not. He still seems keen on us visiting him, though he hardly pressed the point. I say we do our sightseeing while we can, because who knows what this next can of worms is going to be."

                “There are more of us than there are of him," Alexei pointed out.

“True, but then he knows the city and probably has connections with others of The Kind.  We don't need to have a battle going on for no good reason. I say we visit a few places and then make our way down to this address."

“As you wish. I for one am torn as you are; between taking the safer path of ignorance and the  wilder one that leads to knowledge. I think that I would be more concerned about those things I do not know, than those that I do. Does that make sense?"

“Complete sense. They say you'll regret the things you didn't do over the things that you have and you may have found less than appealing."

Anna smiled. “I might argue with that, but I will consent to let it pass. I understand the premise behind it. And so yes, I think that a polite conversation with this gentleman might prove constructive; at some point in time. If nothing more, he will prove to be as he appears to be. If he is one of us, I would rather acquiesce to his desires, and if they be that he is left ignored in whatever hole he occupies, then so be it."

Maggie was nodding. “I don't think this can wait. But what shall we do about the royals?"

“We leave the royals alone. There is nothing to be gained from antagonizing them. Relatives or not, they would probably go catatonic once the facts were laid out for them. Truth is well and good, but a large dose of unexpected and unwanted facts will never go over well, especially not in an instance like this."

                “Whatever you say grandmother. I can see your point, but I still think it would be interesting to make our presence known."

                “Once you are married and on your own, you may do as you wish. For now, please bow to the wisdom of your elders."

                Maggie's reply was to stick her tongue out.

                Edward stifled a laugh, knowing the older woman was right, and yet loving the sheer impudence of his bride-to be. It was still odd to think that she was truly older than she looked, for she clung to immature mannerisms like a drowning man does a life preserver. It made dealing with her a constant challenge, since you never knew how she was going to react to a situation. But having seen her ability to age her body, he had to think that she was somehow stuck in this notion of her being a juvenile

                Oh, she was probably physically what she seemed, for he was beginning to understand the delayed maturation of The Kind. He was an exception because he had his normal transformation interrupted by the chance presence of silver in his body. It made him feel a little better about their interactions, something he constantly reminded himself that she had initiated. Looking back on it though, it wasn't like he hadn't been enjoying himself all along.

                There was a mild argument going on around him, and since it was nothing important, he slipped farther into his remembrances.  She was amazing in the way she could change form, though he was certainly taken in by her seemingly natural body. That was about as taboo as things got, and with her calling him father; well that had been the ultimate in socially unacceptable behavior.

                It was quite the turn on.

                But then, his recent history was filled with such things. While it was true he did long for those earlier days, now that he put his mind to it again, his life was infinitely more interesting now than it ever could have been unaltered by that singular, incessant need to follow after her on the fateful, dark night. He knew that already, but being thrust into this role had given him little time to prepare.

                He chuckled quietly.  Thrust. He had been doing an inordinate amount of that, to be sure. He was glad his new form came with a seemingly unlimited supply of sexual power, because she certainly had a lot of it too. He looked up to gaze at her and found everyone staring at him.

                “What?"

                “Why did you laugh just now? Is our conversation so amusing?"

                He could feel the color rise to his cheeks. “No. Sorry, but I was thinking something that made me laugh. I wasn't listening to your argument anymore."

                Maggie saw his eyes, and the fact that his pupils were dilated. “Oh were you now? Then why don't you agree with my side and see what happens."

                “Not without knowing.  I'm learning a little discretion."

                “Fine. I said that you and I could go down to meet this fellow and find out what he is. The others can do their sightseeing and well meet up at a hotel later on."

                “I think that would work fine. If there is danger, then that would reduce the risk to only those least likely to come to harm from it."

                That brought forth a flurry of complaints as to who was and who wasn't vulnerable. Edward held up his hand. “Look. I have the metal inside me. I might as well put that to good use. And Maggie is a lot tougher than any of you give her credit for, except for Leonardo, and he's not here. This is our decision, and if you don't like, too bad, because there isn't much you'll be able to say or do to dissuade us."

                Alexei agreed. “Let them go. I have faith in them. They have not gotten this far and managed to reconnect this family without going through extreme peril and even death. We have no right to more than our opinions on the matter, and after that, the decision is theirs. If they wish to go, let them go." Despite his words you could see he was filled with dread.

                “Then it's agreed. We'll head to this address and you go enjoy yourselves. With any luck this will be quick and we'll join up with you in less than a day's time."

                “That long?"

                He chuckled. “I have a feeling that if this man is who I think he is, then his story is not going to be a simple hello and goodbye."

                Maggie agreed. “Just think! If he is the famed author, what has he been doing with his time for the past hundred or so years? And what link does he have with werewolves? I can think of a thousand questions for him, and that's probably just the tip of the iceberg."

                “Fine, fine. Go. But I have misgivings about this."

                “Grandmother, you have misgivings about everything. We'll be fine."

                So they parted ways there at the table, with promises to keep in touch. Once outside they flagged down a cabbie and gave him the directions. He gave them an odd look but immediately pulled out into traffic like a pro and wended his way through the crowded streets until he made his way to some of the lesser traveled routes.

                When they finally pulled up in front of the old brownstone, if that was the proper term for it, it fit just what they had imagined it to be. It was old, but not decrepit, showing its age from the numerous layers of filth covering the exterior but still showing itself to be in good repair. Some of that grime, should a person cut through it with a knife, dated back to the dark days of coal soot and debtor's prisons.

                They paid the fare and stepped up to the front door. They rang the bell and waited. It took a moment, but then they heard light footsteps from within. A lock or two clicked and the door opened with a faint creaking noise. A pair of eyes was visible in the resulting crack.

                The door then swung open all the way. “My friends! I didn't expect you to come so soon! I have so few guests these days. It is good to have someone new to talk too."

                “There was some debate about whether we should come or not, but the wiser minds prevailed,“ said Maggie with a grin.

                “Good, good! Don't just stand there, come in. Will you walk into my parlor?"

                Edward felt a chill. “Said the spider to the fly?"