The Werewolf's Tale by Richard Jaccoma

Author:Richard Jaccoma [Jaccoma, Richard]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: vampire, shapeshifter, horror fiction, occult fiction, werewolf, supernatural fiction, Nazis
Publisher: Templar Books
Published: 2011-12-05T08:00:00+00:00

“You knew!” Gina gasped. “Why the hell didn’t you say something?!”

“Oh, don’t you understand? How could I? You and Ari have been so wonderful to me. How could I drag you down into my fight? I thought perhaps . . . most likely they were just watching me. I thought they would leave it at that. They have never considered me a threat before. It was always my father they feared.”

“I know this is an ugly question, Clara,” I said. “But why did they treat your father the way they did? Usually they chase out who they want to chase out, kill the ones they want to kill. In your father’s case they deported him, then assassinated him.”

“Let’s say they realized too late how much of a threat my father was. Almost too late. Do you know what my father did a moment before they shot him? He turned to me and said he would either die on that day, in that place, or in 1958. On February 14, 1958. In Tampa Bay, Florida, to be exact.”

“Excuse me? I don’t understand.”

“I am telling you my father predicted his own death. He was a very spiritual man. Very powerful spiritually. His parapsychological gifts were as great as his poetic gifts, his artistic gifts, his scientific gifts.” She smiled fondly. “You have heard what Uncle Albert said about my father?”

“Uncle Albert Einstein?” I smiled. “Yes. He said your father understood relativity theory better than Uncle Albert himself.”

“Well, you must understand that my father’s paranormal talents were every bit as strong as his scientific abilities. And that he used them to the fullest extent.”

“He didn’t use them to save his own life,” I said bitterly.

“Of course he didn’t. My father only used white magic. So he could not summon magical aid for his personal gain. That is at the bedrock of the Law. Not for gold . . . and certainly not to save his life, which was so much more valuable than gold.”

“What a waste,” Gina murmured.

“Not at all,” Clara said. “He used his abilities for so many things of great importance. He spied on the Nazis. Observed them at their most intimate moments. He learned their darkest secrets. And he told the world what he knew. He told everything.”

I remembered Steiner’s public statements, and the monographs he’d written about the occult roots of Nazi power. He went into intimate detail, and I’d always believed what he said had the smell of truth about it; the stench of truth, rather.

“Your father had amazingly detailed information on the Nazis,” I said. “But he always refused to reveal his sources.”

“The truth was there for the world to see,” Clara said. “My rather was a great occultist. James? What would you say if I told you my father was able to spy on the Nazis by means of astral projection? That he had mastered the ancient art . . . could leave his body and send his spirit to observe Hitler . . . and all the Nazis, at their most secret moments.

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