And By Night, They Walked: The Struggle of Humanity

The OOC thread is here.
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Ten years...

It had been a whole decade since silence had fallen on the immortal races. Not a trace, nor a whisper of their war had surfaced since the ancients had disappeared. No one knew why the violence had suddenly stopped. Was it remorse over their fallen brethren? Were the races growing far too terrified of one another? The most common theory was that they had simply grown tired. What was the point of being immortal if you simply casted it aside in a senseless war that all had forgotten the reason for? Was it the murder of a beloved member of the race? Which side struck first? Who was on the attack and who was simply defending their-self? As far as anyone knew, it was simply hatred. Hatred was the root of all this violence. Not hatred of one's personality, or of one's decisions. It was the mere fact that you were a Vampire, and I was a Lycan. This fact alone was enough to spill the blood of millions. For thousands of years this trivial truth was more than enough to charge into battle and die for the cause. But now, there was silence.

Despite all the quiet, there was no peace. There would never be peace. Thinking that peace was even possible was enough to get you killed by your own people. No, something was very wrong in the world. Where were the ancients? Where were our leaders? Who do we look up to now? Deep underground, these questions echoed in the night like prayers to a false god, never to be answered. Why were our cities, our safe havens, being destroyed? Why were our brothers and sisters being killed? What has become of our once proud race? Where is our strength? Why does immortality seem so short? WHAT'S GOING ON?!

There was no warning, there was no explanation. All the immortals knew was the humans were fighting back, and there was no one defending them. The numbers of each race were diminishing rapidly, casualties of the war the humans were now waging. Immortality no longer meant to live forever. New weapons were being developed. The humans had one objective; genocide.


A lone wolf wandered through the Arizona desert. His fur was dark, yet patches of it glistened in the moonlight. He looked old, yet young all at the same time. His eyes were a bright silver, his fur a combination of deep brown and silver streaks. One look into the wolf's eyes would strike fear into the most battle hardened man. What was this lone wolf up to? Was he lost? Why was he so far from the forest? No, there was more to this wolf than met the eye. The wolf walked over a large dune and gazed down on the city of Phoenix, then turned westward towards a location it had been before. Guided by instinct, it took little time to reach it's destination. The abandoned bunker had become overgrown, and no one would know by looking at it that it once housed one of the most powerful packs in existence today. The great wolf sniffed the entrance, as if taking in memories through his nose. He sat, stretched, and looked to a sky, letting out a mighty howl that was sure to be heard for miles and miles to come. This was no mere howl, this was a message. The wolf had grown tired of the situation befalling his kind, and was ready to take action.

Suddenly, the wolf changed. He stood upright, and tufts of fur shifted into fine body hair. The wolf was a man. He stood 6 foot 4 inches tall with a muscular build. His face was young, yet worn, as it had seen much more than it's look could give away. He had a thick beard of stubble, and shoulder length dark brown and silver hair grew from his head. Numerous scars littered his body, as if he had spent all his life in battle. The man headed through the entrance to the bunker, and emerged a short while later wearing a simple outfit of jeans and an old T-shirt, which looked it had been used as a cleaning rag. Plain black leather boots covered his feet, and a simple jacket protected his torso from the chilling desert wind. This was no wolf, this was Lucian Harth. The ancients had returned.
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The club was crowded, even for a Saturday night. Idle chatter could barely be heard above the booming volume of the DJ's speakers. The music was pumping, and the dance floor was full. Men stood at the bar downing their drinks as they eyed the dancing women from a distance, their minds thinking of what the best way to break the ice would be.

Typical human mating ritual...

Keeping an eye on the packed club was quite the task. Luckily, the best doorman The Nitro Club had ever employed was on duty that night. A large man with ebony skin stood at the entrance, surveying his surroundings with skilled eyes. He stood towering over everyone in the room at 7 feet 6 inches tall. He was a monster of a man. Every inch of his large body was covered in muscle that appeared to be carved out of granite. He had a handsome face, though littered with scars. He had a beard of stubble, and hair dyed crimson and styled into neat dreadlocks, tied back with a hair band. He wore dark sunglasses, even though the room was dimly lit. Beneath the glasses, crimson eyes scanned from the bar, to the dance floor, back to the bar, then outside the entrance. The giant was in charge of the well being of everyone on the property, and failure to do so would result in his termination. Simple, for one such as him.

Two men at the bar had started a commotion. A simple misunderstanding involving a woman, and fueled by alcohol, and quickly become a violent situation. The giant's ears had picked up the raised voices, and with great speed he was on the scene.

"Take it outside you two, we don't tolerate that type of behavior here." The giant's voice boomed deeper than the bass of the DJ's speakers.

"Who are you talking to Shrek? I make more money in a day than you do in a week. You think just cause you're a freak of nature you can order me around?" The drunken man reached into his coat, and before he could pull out the knife his arm was broken and he was being drug by his collar out of the club.

"If I ever see you in here again, you'll have more than a broken arm to worry about." The giant threw the knife at the man, and it stuck into the ground just to the left of his head. The man staggered to his feet and ran.

Who the hell is Shrek? Before the giant could finish his though, his sensitive ears picked up an all too familiar sound. It was distant, but not by much. It was coming from the direction of a place the man had once resided. Old memories flooded into his head, and without so much as a word to his co-workers he was out the door and sprinting in the direction of the sound.

It had been ten years since Zaheer Isanti had seen his friend Lucian Harth. Something urgent must have come up for him to return to Phoenix, and Zaheer was ready to once again be the right hand of his superior. Once outside the city limits, where there were no people, the giant transformed into a large wolf with black fur and a crimson mane, sprinting towards the abandoned military bunker where Lucian was surely waiting. The journey had only taken a half hour, and Zaheer was once again looking into the face of his best friend Lucian. He shifted once again into his human form, and approached his superior.

"Lucian, it's been ten years..."

“Do not fear what you are about to suffer. Beware, the devil is about to throw some of you into prison so that you may be tested, and for ten days you will have affliction. Be faithful—”

“Until death, and I will give you the crown of life.” Special Agent Nick Callaghan interrupted his suspect dryly to finish his Bible verse. The pudgy man in handcuffs blinked up at Nick in surprise. “Revelations 2:10,” Nick elaborated. “Don’t quote scripture to a preacher’s son, Mr. Hanover.” He fixed the man with a stern look, careful not to tip the scales from stern to hostile. Much as he might wish otherwise, he was playing good cop in this interrogation. The role of bad cop had gone to Detective Peter Downs of the Phoenix PD, who was playing it with gusto.

“Bullshit is what it is!” Downs snarled, slamming a fist down hard enough to make the already twitchy suspect jump in his seat. Roger Hanover looked nervously between Nick and Detective Downs before his eyes settled on Nick, and a flicker of hope crossed his face. He thought he’d found someone to sympathize with him, just like he was supposed to. “God doesn’t love sickos like you,” Downs said, pressing the religion button hard in hopes of making Hanover snap back. “He sends you to hell when you try and kill people!”

There was no snap of anger in Hanover’s eyes though. There was no real reaction at all, except for another Bible verse, this one so obscure not even Nick could place it. His devoted man of faith cover was saved though by a knock on the door, swiftly followed by Downs’ partner, Detective Andrea Flores. Andrea shot a quick glance in Roger Hanover’s direction before beckoning to both Downs and Nick. “Stay.” Downs barked at Hanover as they both followed Andrea out of the interrogation room.

Whatever news she had was not good, Nick could tell by the set of her jaw and the frown line creasing the skin between her eyebrows. “You are not going to believe what the search warrant of Hanover’s house turned up,” Andrea seethed.

“Hopefully the components he used to try and make his bomb,” Eli proffered. That was why he’d been brought onto this case. Phoenix PD had liked Hanover as a suspect in the recent disappearance of one of his neighbors. When they’d gone to arrest him they’d also found a homemade bomb in the bed of his pickup and detailed plans of an business park in Alhambra. That had been enough for the word “terrorism” to get thrown out and the FBI was called in immediately. Nick’s boss had asked him to step in as soon as Hanover started speaking only in Bible quotes. The almost constant Bible study and recitations his father had forced into his head for eighteen years had finally paid off.

“Laura Yeates?” Downs asked. He didn’t look certain whether or not he wanted to have found the victim in their initial case. Nick couldn’t blame him. Hanover was definitely not entirely right in the head. Nick had grown up around people who took their religion very literally but this guy was something differently entirely.

“Yes, and thankfully, no,” Andrea said to each of them respectively. “That’s not the half of it though. You’re going to want to see some of this before you guys interrogate him anymore.” She tossed Nick a plastic evidence bag containing a worn moleskin journal stuffed with loose papers. “I can’t make heads or tails of most of that thing. It’s a lot of religious stuff, half-diary half homemade prayer book.”

Downs handed Nick a pair of latex gloves to pull on before he slid the journal out of the bag and began thumbing through it, Downs reading over his shoulder. He found a lot of Bible verses and even more chapter and verse reference numbers crammed in the margins of almost every page. Andrea was right though, most of it was impossible to decipher without in depth study. There were a few things that stuck out, mostly because Hanover had circled them and underlined them and even drawn fat arrows pointing to them. Nick absorbed a few of them without even really thinking about them: “Turner???” “Global Elite” “Montague Summers” “Primal United” “Church of Christ Eternal and Triumphant.” It was only one near the end that really caught his attention: “Northridge Business Park.” That was the business park Hanover had been carrying layouts and plans for when he’d been arrested.

“You found it, didn’t you?” Andrea asked, reading the expressions on Nick and Downs’ faces. “Hanover outright confesses that he intended to park his truck outside the front offices of the Northridge Business Park and blow up as much shit as possible.”

Downs whistled. “Well, that makes our job easy, and the DA’s.”

Nick nodded, but it was a half-hearted motion and as he continued to read the notes in the next few pages he began to frown. There were a few page and verse references to books in the Bible. There were also excerpts of what Nick believed to be Latin. One of the verses in English stuck with Nick even as he put the book back in the evidence bag and handed it to the eager Downs. In tiny, crabbed all capitals, Roger Hanover had quoted long sections from the Book of Job. It began with an underlined section reading: “The shades below tremble, the waters and their inhabitants./ Sheol is naked before God, and Abaddon has no covering.” The verses were about God’s power to expose wickedness and death, things beyond human control and ken. Nick’s mind made a vague, unbidden connection between the verse and Hanover’s bombing plan, but he shook his head to clear it away. Too much thinking like that and he’d wind up like his father yet, seeing imaginary flickers of hellfire licking at the heels of everyone around him.

Silently, he followed Downs back into the interrogation room. Inside Hanover looked more nervous than before. He glanced between the detective and the FBI agent again and swallowed. “I think I want a lawyer,” he said quietly. His first words that hadn’t come straight from the Bible.

Downs smiled nastily. “That’s probably a good idea seeing as we have your confession right here.” He held up the evidence bag and journal for Hanover to see. Hanover paled and despite his request for a lawyer he began to talk quickly.

“You don’t understand,” he said. His eyes sought out Nick, flashing back to the connection of the verse Nick had finished for him. “I didn’t want to do it, but someone had to destroy them before they hurt more people!”

“Before who hurt more people?” Nick asked, the words were out of his mouth before he even really thought of them.

“The demons,” Hanover said gravely. “There are demons living beneath our city.”

Under the soft and sensual lighting of the club, an elegant, dark-haired woman lounged comfortably in a corner booth. The club that surrounded her was that perfect blend of modern sleek chrome and old world teak paneling that appealed to the hard-charging corporate raiders the club catered to. The long gleaming bar served not only cocktails, but specialty coffees for those all-important war councils known as business meetings in this world. Semi-private booths lined two of the long wall with individual tables dotting the spaces between.

Easton was an oddity in this space, one of only 3 women in the entire club. But then, she was the owner. The other two were women attempting to break into the still-exclusive upper echelons of corporate leadership. As she looked out over her domain, Easton’s eyes fell on an offensively pretty young man who was weaving between the patrons on his way toward her booth. Sergei’s presence could only mean an inconvenience for her. Still, none of that showed on her darkly beautiful face. She offered her cheek for him to kiss before he slipped into the booth with her.

“Always a delight to see you, Sergei. You look as gorgeous as always.” She cooed at him.

The young Ukrainian, just grinned at her, “And you, my dearest, are such a liar.” His eyes twinkled at her, “But I forgive you.” The blonde ordered a coffee and once that was delivered, he took a sip. “I know you have kept up to date on things. But, we have a problem.”

Easton sipped her glass of red wine, she waited patiently knowing Sergei would come to the point quickly. He was fairly young and wasn’t very patient. His comment that ‘they’ had a problem elicited almost no response from her. “Sergei. I am old. What you think are problems rarely are.” She turned slightly to face him. “Tell me what you have done.”

Sergei’s eyes flashed with indignation. “It is not me, Easton!” He hissed at her under his breath. “You remember Lucy? The one who turned her human lover a few years ago?”

Easton nodded softly, “I do. Stupid woman.” She passed judgment without rancor in her voice. “How are she and her little toy getting on?”

“She’s dead.” The young man stated bluntly. When Easton looked at him with a quirked brow, he nodded, “Yes. You see the problem, now.” He paused to look about the club momentarily before continuing, “He is young and Lucy hadn’t had time to educate him properly. He is a risk.” He turned his eyes to capture her gaze boldly, “He is a risk to all of us.” The Ukrainian made sure to emphasize the word ‘all’.

Easton simply shook her head, “Why come to me?” She could care less if the newly turned Vampire lived or died. It wasn’t her concern.

“Someone must go to get him. Teach him. Make sure he doesn’t reveal himself to our enemies.” Sergei explained. When it was clear that Easton was still unconvinced, he played his trump card. “His brother is a FBI agent based here in Phoenix. If Eli should turn up dead, there will be consequences we cannot easily sweep under the rug.”

Easton thought things through. The brother was truly the problem. To protect them all, Lucy’s lover needed to live. The fact that Easton had few ties to the Court made her the logical choice to fetch the boy. She was strong enough to travel and defend herself, but not so integrated into the court that she couldn’t be spared. Sighing softly, she finally relented, “I will go to get him. But I will not be responsible for him. Find him another babysitter.” That said; she held out her slender hand for Sergei would place the envelope with Eli’s last known address into it.

“Always a pleasure, Easton.” The Ukrainian purred at her before sliding out of the booth and disappearing outside once more.

Easton opened the envelope to read the address with a much-put-upon sigh. “Why are you such a bleeding heart, Martine? It will kill you one day.” That dire prediction whispered; she slipped from her booth to start the wheels rolling to get a flight and hotel booked for her trip for Chicago.

Eli was starving. He hadn’t meant to go this long without feeding, it had just happened. He’d meant to eat two nights ago, but his phone had rung right as he was heading out the door. After that he’d spent most of the night making soothing sounds while his older sister cried about her problems with her husband, and how she was considering a divorce, and a dozen other problems. By the time he’d calmed her down enough to get off the phone and go to bed dawn was less than an hour away in Chicago. The next night he’d turned his cell off to make sure he wouldn’t be interrupted and headed out. He’d slipped into a club with a bad reputation and lots of dark corners. Within a few hours he’d charmed a terribly drunk young woman into one of those booths and lulled her into a semi-conscious state before he sank his fangs into her neck. A second later he pulled back. There was something terribly wrong with the taste of her. She was terribly sick with something that had gotten into her bloodstream. Eli didn’t have the heart to hurt her further, besides, he had no desire to drink poisoned blood, so he’d sent her home in a taxi with an subtle suggestion that she see a doctor as soon as possible.

Now, after two nights without feeding he was desperate. He would swear he could hear the blood pumping through the veins of every person he passed on the street. It was torment, but he wasn’t about to just grab someone off the sidewalk. He knew better than that, so he kept walking as the night drew on. The street traffic began to thin out as it got later and he headed into seedier neighborhoods. It took another forty-five minutes, but someone finally tried to mug him.

The mugger was hidden in the shadows of a recessed doorway, but Eli had known he was there and walked into the trap willingly. He stepped out in front of Eli, an inch or two taller and much broader with a threatening scowl tugging down his brows and lining his face. There was a knife in his hand, not a big one, but it looked sharp enough to fulfill its duties. The mugger opened his mouth, a demand forming on his lips, but Eli caught him by the throat and swung him back into the recessed doorway, knocking the thug’s head against the bricks of the door hard enough to daze him. By vampire standards, Eli was pitifully slow and weak, but compared to a human he was deadly.

One hand under the mugger’s jaw exposed his neck and held his mouth shut while Eli fed. The blood rushed down his throat and instantly he started to feel better. His would be mugger struggled a bit at first but quickly went still as Eli continued to drink. His thirst still wasn’t entirely sated when he realized he was having a hard time hearing the mugger’s heartbeat.

“Shit!” He hissed, pulling his mouth away from the other man’s neck. The mugger slumped hin his grasp, losing consciousness. Without the threatening scowl, Eli was shocked to see how young he was, probably not even out of his teens. “Shit, shit, shit,” Eli growled. He hadn’t meant to take so much blood only a pint or so, no more than he would lose if he’d donated to the Red Cross. This was not good at all.

Carefully, Eli lowered his victim to the ground, a hand pressed against the blood still welling at his neck. His free hand dug through the human’s pockets until he found the man’s cell phone in his jacket pocket. Having a brother in the FBI had taught him to be paranoid about using his own phone for things like this. Using the mugger’s phone he dialed 911 and quickly gave their address and the man’s condition and pleaded for the ambulance to hurry.

He should have stayed, kept pressure on the wound, made sure the ambulance actually came to help, but he couldn’t. If he stayed there would be questions, which would take time, hours, possibly in to the morning. Then he would be royally screwed. Reluctantly he wiped the phone off and dumped it next to its owner before hurrying away, cursing his stupidity. He knew better than to put off feeding. He’d learned that from Lucy even before he’d become a vampire.

Halfway home he was so frustrated with himself that he punched a brick wall, putting cracks in several of the bricks and knocking mortar loose. “God dammit!”

He’d thought things were getting better. The months, the year, after Lucy’s death had been hard, almost impossible, but he’d slogged through it all, even when he’d wanted nothing more than to curl up and die. Lucy hadn’t given him eternity just for him to give up on himself so quickly. She’d refused to turn him just for the sake of their relationship. “You have to want it for yourself.” She’d told him. “Give me reasons to turn you that have nothing to do with me.” He had and he’d meant them. At the time he’d honestly wanted to become a vampire, but now, without his wife, he wasn’t so sure.

"That was fucking bullshit guys!"

Three young Lycans walked the streets of the underworld, pushing through the crowds to reach where ever it was that they were trying to head. The one in the middle looked beaten and broken, while his two friends were attempting to help him through the crowded streets. These injuries wouldn't last as long on him as they would a human, but they were still painful. Brown hair, 6'4, bruised and bloodied among the face, and only slightly muscular.

"That's what you get for still thinking like a human. They have a system here, you should pick up on it by now." The one on the right said. He was blonde, 6'3, and more lean than muscular. The one on the right of the middle boy laughed in response.

"Though, seeing you get your ass kicked never gets old. Wanna do it tomorrow?" He had brown hair, 6'2, a nasty scar on his face, and had a lot more muscle mass than the other two put together.

"Fuck you Bryan. How the hell was I supposed to know he was an adult?" His nose stopped bleeding, and he finally let go of it.

"I don't know, maybe by the whole pack of Lycans surrounding him and listening to him?" The blonde one said.

"That, and you try to pick a fight with everyone when you get even one drink in you." Bryan retorted, his smile still as smart ass as his comments. The bloodied one tried to hit him, but Bryan simply dodged and laughed.

"Let's just get home, I've had enough for today." With that, the group entered into silence, preferring it over the constant arguing with their bloodied friend. Cutting through the crowds, they split off the street into an alley they used all the time as a shortcut to their house. Their enhanced vision allowed them to easily pierce through the dark, so when a man seemed to magically appear ahead of them, they both stopped dead in their tracks. Despite their vision, they couldn't seem to get a real good look at him. He seemed to be wearing some sort of suit, and the darkness of it was camouflaging him to the alley's dark interior.

"Who the fuck is that?" Bryan asked, not really knowing what to do in this situation. They were all fairly new to being a Lycan, and had yet to unlock the power of free transformation. The bloodied one simply gave an exasperated sigh, and pushed forward.

"Look guys, we're in the underworld. If it's a vampire, we kill it, if it's a Lycan, we beat it up if it tries to get in our way. Let's go."

"I don't think that's a vampire man...It doesn't smell like one." The blonde one said, just a hint of worry in his voice. The bloodied one turned back towards them.

"You're a fucking pussy, c'mon, let-" There was a small 'ching' sound, and he was cut off as a large silver stake protruded through his chest. He had enough time to look down at what had hit him before he started convulsing like a seizure, and fell to the ground, blood pooling from his mouth. His friends went slack jawed and white as they saw their friend die before them. As they looked past him, they could see the stranger was carrying a weapon that looked akin to a medieval crossbow. He walked closer, and they got a better look at him.

He was wearing a suit of pure black, and a mirrored visor that made it impossible to put a face to their friend's killer. The blonde one started to back up, his survival instinct taking over his thoughts of revenge. Bryan had no such problem as anger started to over come him, and the transformation took place. The blonde one took more steps backwards, and just as he turned to run, he ran right into two more of the suited killers. Without hesitation, they pumped two spikes into his chest, and walked by as his allergic reaction to the silver did the work for them. Bryan was fully transformed into a Lycan by this point, and looked at all of his friend's killers. With abnormal quickness, he ran up to them in an attempt to slash them to pieces. The two killers from behind dived to the side, and were both thrown against either side of the alley from the force of the charge.

One had trouble getting to his feet, while the other hopped up, and went to fire but stopped just short. The Lycan spotted him with his weapon raised, and went to charge him before a net came flying down on him. He stopped, and started to howl before a yank on the net shut his mouth. The Lycan couldn't understand why the net was working so well against him, until he got a good look at the netting. It was silver, and sapping his strength as he fought harder. Eventually, he was too tired to even move, and he fell to the ground. The Lycan transformed back into his human form, and looked up weakly at one of the masked killers, before their boot put him into a state of darkness.

---

"You two are lucky these were simply kids! KIDS! You could have been killed, or even worse, turned!"

The killers, better known as 'Griffins', had returned to their hidden compound within the Underworld with the unconscious body of the Lycan they had just captured. The techies and scientists were strapping him to a chair now, a collar with silver spikes pointing to the inside keeping the Lycan in a constant form of weakness. Zeus, the leader of the Griffins, was laying out the two squad mates that had allowed themselves to even be hit by the young one.

"We have been at this long enough that you should know how to handle such a situation. The kids are reckless, brutal, and completely unpredictable. You should not have just walked in there, side by side for that matter, thinking you were going to take him on!" The two squad mates stared straight ahead, knowing full well that they had screwed up, and that Zeus was only trying to keep them alive. Zeus looked them both in the eyes. Ticker, his squad's explosive expert, and Hammer, their auto-rifleman. "You both have cleaning detail! Get to it!" Both Ticker and Hammer resisted the urge to groan, and went about doing their duties.

Cleaning meant a lot more than simple making sure everything was spic and span. They had to wipe the trace of their smell from the articles of clothing, along with cleaning the blood from the stakes retrieved from the dead Lycans, along with cleaning every single weapon and armour piece in the entire base. Zeus did not hand out light punishments, and with the amount of weapons and armour that they had in the hideout, those two would be lucky to finish by morning.

Zeus watched them go, his helmet cradled underneath his right arm. That had been a pathetic execution of his plan. Using himself as a distraction, Ticker and Hammer would enter through the back, preferably a fair distance from each other in case of just such a charge, while Bullet and Leech held the net ready right on the rooftop. Hammer had been lucky that their first throw had been spot on, or he would be nothing more than bloody ribbons. Zeus rubbed the bridge of his nose, and placed his helmet on the table, resting against it for a second.

Their hideout was a fairly large building under the guise of a warehouse owned by a splinter faction ally of their employer. No one came near it, thanks to that fact, and they also had a fairly good view from all sides of the building. Inside, it was two stories tall. The ground floor housed their garage, weapons, sparring, and preparation areas. Pretty much where most of the Griffins spent their time. The second floor housed their science team and their equipment, along with few bedrooms, and their medical station. Even Zeus was impressed with what the eggheads had managed to do with their little area.

Zeus walked up to the containment area. A small little space surrounded by one-way plexi-glass, and steel walls. Inside sat the one Lycan they had managed to capture, still in a state of induced unconsciousness. To the right of Zeus sat two of the eggheads tapping away at computer screens, and talking in hushed tones to the other eggheads a few feet away through small mics. One of the screens showed the Lycan's biorhythm status, along with blood pressure, and several other things that Zeus didn't have time to bother with, and another screen kept printing out numbers that looked like chemical formulas.

"So how many did you kill this time?" Zeus didn't turn at the sound of the voice, knowing it was Minerva, the head of the science team. She was a bit older, roughly in her late fifties and still filled with spite. Rumour was that she had lost her husband to the Lycans, and that is what made her so bitter. Zeus didn't care what the story was, so long as she did her job.

"Two, both kids, one a coward and the other an idiot." Zeus replied, his voice low and raspy, as if he had a sore throat.

"Too bad you couldn't have gotten more." Minerva replied before moving to the booth with the regulating and supervising equipment. She pressed a few buttons, and the screen with the chemical formulas changed until it held only a few symbols in a line on it. Zeus wasn't much for chemistry, so he didn't know what those meant, or how they were even supposed to affect the Lycan. Minerva spoke into the mic. "Alright Jasper, continue with the injection. L-109X"

A scrawny looking man with short brown hair and a worrisome face entered the chamber carrying a very large syringe filled with a blue liquid. He injected the Lycan with it in the arm, and left. There was a moment of suspense and silence as everyone watched for anything that might give them a clue as to what was happening. The entire time Minerva watched the biorhythm screen. After a few minutes of nothing happening, Minerva sighed, and called it. "L-109X...no effect." She looked down at the keyboard, and tapped her finger a couple of times before wandering out.

"We can't stay here forever Minerva, you're team better start finding something that works soon." Zeus said, a slight amount of anger in his voice at the failure of the experiment. Minerva was not phased in the slightest.

"Time is the main ingredient in our injections Zeus, you would do well to heed that you are not the one who tells us when we do or don't pull out."

"No, but if I tell our employer that you are costing us money and time, than he will have no further use for you." Tension filled the air between them before Minerva broke the stare down, and walked back to the table filled with chemicals to start another combination. Zeus walked past them, down a hallway and entered a room at the far end. He placed his helmet on the desk, and hit a button on the top right hand corner of the desk. A section of the wall flipped over to reveal a T.V. A second later, and a blacked out image of a person appeared on the screen.

"What do you have for me Lieutenant?" The voice was distorted, and the encryption on the video link was so intricate and hardened that not even the techies they had at the hideout were able to crack it.

"Well, how about what I don't have? What I don't have, is a toxin that works yet. We just tested another one, a Lycan, and it had no effect whatsoever. I'm telling you boss, these eggheads are wasting are time."

"Do not be naive captain." The voice said in an extremely calm, almost bored voice. "Those...'eggheads' are the only reason you are down there in the first place. Let's not have this conversation again. You know your job, and you know how you're going to do it. Do not waste my time complaining about the tools involved."

"I...yes sir, won't happen again sir." Zeus replied, not breaking eye contact with the shadow.

"Anything else to report, other than a failure?"

"No sir." Zeus said through gritted teeth, not liking the fact that his employer made it sound like it was his fault.

"Alright then." The figure moved slightly, most likely going to terminate the connection, before he stopped. "Oh, also, I have been reading reports of increased Lycan vs Vampire activity down there. I think it would be in all of our best interests to exercise extreme caution Captain."

"We always exercise extreme caution sir."

"Of course you do Captain...of course you do." The screen flicked off, and the set flipped back into the wall. Zeus simply shook his head, and made his way back out through the door. In the end, it was all about the pay check.

---

Of course you do Captain...of course you do." Mr. Harry Turner hit a button on the screen, terminating the call, and sat there for a moment. What those men didn't realize was that the visors each had a helmet allowing him to see exactly what happened during their nightly excursions. The techies were paid not to reveal that little tidbit, since they would be able to find it with enough poking around. He knew the Captain had nearly lost two team members tonight, and that was something that couldn't be taken lightly. Lycans, even young ones, were to be approached with extreme caution. Sure, if they had wanted all of them dead, they could have simply opened up on them, but they needed kidnapped ones for research.

Harry glanced around at his office casually, enjoying the calm and practicality to it. A couple of bookshelves placed along the back and left wall of the door, a simple oak desk with his computer, phone, and emergency button placed underneath the main drawer. A couple pictures were hung on the walls, both were of him, one a professional portrait, the other a picture taken from a photographer during one of his speeches. A couple of chairs were placed to the right of the door, wooden with cushions on the seat. A window was on the wall right to the door, facing a busy street bustling with people and cars moving around, doing whatever it was that they needed to do. Harry got up from his seated position, and walked to the window, casually lighting a smoke. Almost as soon as he did so, a knock was heard from his door.

"Enter." He said, taking a drag of the cigarette as the man entered.

An aide, probably around his early thirties, walked in. He was dressed in business casual, and had clean cut brown hair and glasses. He stood straight up, and it was obvious this man was meant for more important duties than delivering mail. What most people didn't know though ,was the mail that this man delivered was very important, and possibly volatile if it got into the wrong hands. The man stepped inside, and closed the door behind him. He pushed the lock in, activating the hidden sound-proof barrier built into the walls.

"What is it this time John? Another Vampire/Lycan brawl? Another mass murder by either of those races? Or is it another peace plea that will be completely forgotten in another hour?"

John pushed his glasses up, and looked down at the file he had in his hand. "Well, if what we have is correct, this will be much worse than a brawl." Turner looked over at John, but knew he wasn't joking. He never joked, never cracked a smile, and was completely business no matter what time of day. It was the prime reason Turner picked him for this job, that, and he had an uncanny ability to find information. Turner took one last drag on the cigarette, and put it out in the ash tray sitting on the windowsill.

Harry walked over to him, and took the file out of his hands. Inside was a satellite photo, showing a remote area in the Arizona desert. The picture itself wasn't all that clear, considering it came from a satellite and was taken at night, but there was clearly a man standing there. Harry looked up at John. "I'm supposed to get excited about a man in the desert?"

"Look on the next page." John said without a moment's hesitation. Harry did so, and his eyes only seemed to read faster as they went down. "Stunning, isn't it?" John asked, his voice low and almost in awe.

"Is this verified?" Turner asked, his normally calm and commanding voice carrying a little excitement in it.

"Not a hundred percent, due to the blurriness of the photo, but enough to warrant a definite look into it."

"No...we keep this low for now. No one else is to know, you understand me? If word of this got out to either of the populations, well, I just don't like what it could turn into."

"Understood, but it's only a matter of time sir."

"I realize that, but we can stall, and prepare for the worst. Is that all Mr. Gray?"

"Yes, Mr. Turner." Harry closed the file, and nodded to the door.

"Then see yourself out, I have work to do." John turned, and exited from the office. Once he was gone, Harry looked back into the file once more. This was a prime opportunity if he ever saw one, and he planned to capitalize on it. He returned to his window, lighting another cigarette and taking another drag before tossing the file onto the desk. It flew open, revealing a picture, and a name.

Lucian Harth

Dreams… They filtered through her mind like memories, and often, they were. However, there were nights when her dreams were different, when they were so vivid it was like she was in that location, experiencing things that had not occurred in her life as she knew it. Times like these evoked emotions within her of satisfaction or of remorse, for these dreams usually featured her former pack mates. The images like these were rare over the years she’d spent, but they still occurred occasionally. They especially seemed insistent when said pack mates were featured as being in a heightened state of emotion or of mind. Occasionally when she felt like she missed her old life most, she would dream these dreams, too, but that was even rarer.

Even so, in the time she had been a part of Lucian’s war pack, she had grown very close to her pack-mates. They were her brothers and her sister – as there had been only one other female within said pack. They had disbanded when the war had ended. What need was there for a war pack when there was relative peace between lycans and vampires?

Just because they no longer saw each other daily didn’t mean she didn’t still feel strongly connected to them. She had been with them for longer than anyone else, and as one who was raised to be a nomad, that was saying a lot. Ever since she’d separated from her first pack in Europe, she had spent time as a lone wolf for a long while in Europe, but eventually she’d immigrated to America where she had become a part of the war against vampires and had switched between war packs until she had finally been assigned to Lucian Harth’s.

The wolf-femme had felt an instant attraction to him, but he had been her alpha, and she had had no desire to become an alpha herself. Besides, that pack had been a battle gang, not a family group even if the others within it still felt like her kin. With that in mind, Lillith had suppressed her hormones as best she had been able, and she had never acted on her attractions.

After the group had been disbanded, she had taken to wild in her wolf form rather than forcing herself assimilate into human society where she had always felt the least comfortable. The she-wolf had traveled for a little while between states in the U.S. until she had made it to Minnesota where she had reveled in the changing seasons as she hadn’t been able to do in Arizona though she never really kept track of just how much time had passed.


A warm body bombarded hers, gnawing at her leg with small, sharp teeth. Lifting her head as wakefulness slipped into her mind, she turned her head and nipped lightly and growled playfully at the pup that had whimsically attacked her while she’d slept. He immediately whimpered and rolled onto his back, bearing his plump belly in submission to her superiority, amusing Lillith. It was a game, and she always loved to play with the pups of the wolf pack even if none were blood related to her.

Of the many wolves in Minnesota, only this large pack had accepted her. While they were indebted to her, she never acted superior to the alphas, never even insinuated that she wanted to become the alpha female. Perhaps that was why they tolerated and even welcomed her presence now after they had first feared her. They knew she was different, that while she had a shape that was similar – though not the same – as theirs, that she was not the same kind of creature. They had seen the three forms she could take, for she had made it known that while she enjoyed their companionship, and while she would respect their ways and their wishes, she was still going to be herself. Lillith suspected they viewed her sort of as a strange guardian of sorts without actually worshiping her as such. After all, the alphas were the pack’s true guardians. The larger, strange wolf among them was just a better help against the man creatures that occasionally posed as a threat.


Lillith remembered well how this pack had come to accept her after she’d entered their territory. They had left her alone as she had left them alone, but after a few days, she’d detected the scent of humans. It hadn’t been deer hunting season, as she’d come to associate the look of the foliage with the people who came wearing orange vests and carrying guns to shoot the heather steppers.

Curious, she had silently moved toward the scent, tracking them while hiding from their sight. They hadn’t worn vests. In fact, they had worn camouflage. Feeling the need to understand their purpose, she had crept closer. They hadn’t been speaking, but she had followed them until one had motioned for the other to halt. She had been paying attention to her surroundings, and she had detected the scents of wolves in the air. Moving a little closer, she had watched as one of the men had taken aim, and she had seen that it had been a wolf that had been targeted.

Rage had filled her. How dare these men come into this territory to hunt such a respectable beast! Keeping to her wolf form, Lillith had run and had attacked the one who had taken aim, clasping her powerful maw about his throat. Her fangs had sunken into the soft flesh, and delicious blood had poured down her throat. However, she hadn’t been quick enough to kill as the reaction to her bite had caused him to pull the trigger. A yelp from a wolf had reached her ears, and with a powerful shake, the man’s neck had snapped.

Not bothering to feast on him as the other man had snapped from his shock, she had dropped the body and had proceeded to maul his companion who had begun to aim his gun at her. The cry that had escaped his lips had become a gurgle as his throat had been torn away. It had only been when the threat had been eliminated that she had allowed herself one good bite from each as a sort of snack before seeing to the injured wolf whose blood she had been able to detect on the air.

Upon her first approach, the wolves had shied away from her, and some had even growled their warnings, but the Alpha Male had approached her slowly, with great authority. He had sniffed her to better know the stranger who had had human on her lips and who had looked something like a wolf but had not quite been a wolf. After what had seemed like a very long time, he at last moved a little away from her, allowing her to pass toward the injured one.

The healthy wolves had moved from her presence, still unsure even if their alpha had insinuated she was okay. After all, he had continued to watch her warily, ready to strike if she should cross any boundaries. The injured wolf had shaken with fear and with uncertainty, but she had held still as Lillith had examined her injury. Luckily, the bullet had only grazed the female, and the lycan had licked the bleeding wound clean before walking away from them, back to her kills. None of the wolves had followed her to share in her meal, for they were still unsure whether they could trust the strange female, but it had been the first step in the road to acceptance by them.


These days, they allowed her to share in their meals as well as their hunt, and she was permitted to interact with them as well. It was almost like being a part of a family again, but the main difference between herself and the pure wolves was too large to truly permit her to be a part of their family no matter how accepted she was. She had only truly felt at home with Accalia, Lucian, Vel, and Zaheer – those who had been like her, who had three forms like her whether they had been born with them or not.

Being a part of the wolf pack hadn’t been so bad, though. She was still able to train her body and mind in the ways that she had been taught, and the wolves were fine with giving her that privacy. There were also other ways that her mind had been trained. While in the wild, she had had visions of a world in which all things were connected by invisible webbing. Like souls all dancing together around the world even if they never realized how connected they could possibly be. The connections seemed brighter, stronger between some than others. It had been a truly spiritual experience for her, and it had been far more intense than anything she’d ever experienced in her life.

This was perhaps because she had never been able to truly relax. In Europe, her father and mother had trained her unrelentingly to become the alpha female they knew she could be. After she’d abandoned them, she had been too worried about avoiding other lone lycans or other packs that would try to harm her. In America, she had been constantly involved in the war effort against vampires. Only now did she truly feel that she could relax, and only now did her mind seem to expand to things past what she had ever experienced.


It was in this understanding that her vivid dreams had come to her, allowing her to see things as if she watched a play on a stage. She suspected that these dreams were about things that were truly happening or at least things that could happen, but she could never prove it, and she never tried. Besides, they were such small occurrences, never about anything incredibly important that required she help, that it didn’t seem to matter much.

Strangely, she was completely awake when a vision seemed to hit her. Her body froze, and she thought she could see Lucian in his majestic wolf form. Lillith could hear his howl, his summons, resonate in her mind. Her head lifted, and her ears perked. No… She actually felt as if she were hearing it with her ears as well as with her mind. Her heart beat faster in her chest, and hope moved through her. The large, handsome wolf faded from her mind, and she moved to all four paws, and the pup with whom she had been playing looked curiously at her, head cocking to one side. After nudging him affectionately with her muzzle, she approached the alphas.

She communicated her designs to leave the pack to travel far south; it was made clear that should she wish to return, she would be welcomed. She was not being cast out as a lone wolf. She was leaving of her own accord, and they would aid her if need be.

Lillith made her goodbyes quickly, and as she ran home to her true Alpha, she could hear the howls of her wolf friends bidding her good luck.

Ten years and some days later.

The blond scowled at the wall, wishing there was more there than the blank expanse of wallpaper to stare at. After the battle, things had returned to relative normality. She had him to herself again, or at least as much as he allowed. But now she was alone and it was boring. Certainly she could entertain herself, she had before. But it was so much better with her Sire there, to entertain and be entertained. He was pretty much the only companion she had except for the rare 'guest' he allowed her to bring home. He was Seth, why couldn't he have just argued to let her come?

Rhianna glanced up when she detected a noise. She had been settled on the chair, a book open on her lap, still working on learning some words. Seth, without a job for the night had been sitting on the couch near by. Even as she watched, he flipped the cellphone open, putting it to his ear. Though she strained, she couldn't make out the conversation on the other end, only her Sire's side. So she only had the reaction he showed her to tell her what he was being told.

Violet eyes narrowed when his gaze slid to her for a moment. He didn't give her any indication of what was going on, just snapped a 'no' at the person on the line. The conversation seemed to turn that way, the elder vampire trying to argue against whatever was being asked of him. Next thing she knew, he was accepting what he had just been disagreeing with before hanging up.

Gracefully the blond slid off the chair even as her Sire stood. She frowned, stepping as to stop him, curious as to why he hadn't told her anything. No information about the call, simply hanging up and acting like he was going to leave. As soon as she stepped into his path, her Sire took notice and she was given a parting response before he brushed past her to leave,"Be careful while I'm gone, Rhianna. It may be a while."

Two weeks was two weeks too much! A while never meant two weeks in her mind. Pale violet eyes flickered toward the couch, trying to hide the frown of disgust that passed over her features. Tired of waiting for him to return, she had gone out for a little fun as the moon had risen. And while normally she would have asked for permission, she had brought home a human. He was handsome, and much like her Sire in looks but the unconscious male now annoyed her more than anything. She was disgusted with herself for even deciding to bring him home. Maybe she thought if she did such a thing, Seth would return.

Simply put, she would have to get rid of the human. He had seen her but it didn't seem like a reason to kill him. Just dump him somewhere far away when she felt like moving from her chair. A hand raised to her lips, teeth gently biting at a nail. Rather than upset him, she hadn't tried to call him, though she had been tempted more than once. Just as she had been tempted to try to track him down. Thinking about her Sire sent a chill down her spine when she thought of the last she had seen him. Whatever he had been told, he hadn't wanted to hear. And it had shaken him. Never in all the centuries she had spent with him, had Rhianna ever seen Seth shaken by anything. He was normally the embodiment of confidence but now that had been taken away and she was worried about where he was.

Seth took in a deep breath. Silly habit that even after three thousand years of not having to breath still stuck, but even still, it seemed to help. Blood trailed down his right side, not all of it somebody else's. He had known it was a trap, the only reason he had come out as well as he had. Perhaps the only reason he had survived. Which was more bothersome to him than most. He was not one to come close to death often, at least not his own. The last time was some two and a half thousand years ago. Not even the wolf lord Lucian had put him that close, but then again, Lucian could say the same about him. As with very few others, he had to admit Lucian was a worrisome foe he would avoid fighting unles necessary. Then again, so was the creature who caused this. Unfortunately for him, this was something he couldn't avoid. And now, most of his other allies were either morbidly wounded or dead, and the creature still lived, albeit wounded as well. He should head back home. At the very least, he had a month or two to recover and re-plan. By then he should have a better plan than he had this time, but a few less noteworthy allies on his side, and the loss of surprise.

He boarded a military cargo ship unnoticed that was heading back to the United States, a curious new country that had come to power in odd ways. Back in his days, such a country would own half the world, but they refrained, oh how the world had changed. He would return to Rhianna, and be forced to confide in her what had happened. Had the creature been destroyed, he'd haved healed and cleaned up and gone on as if nothing was out of the ordinary. But it hadn't, and worse yet, it was worse than the last time he'd come across it.

As he rode for hours in silence, he thought more on recent events. He'd been aware of them, but until this, had not payed much mind. But something was definitely happening. Not even in the crusades had humans destroyed as many of their kind as had been going on lately. No, this was unusual enough to deserve his attention, though he had enough things to be concerned about anyways. He had already recieved word that the beast-wolf Lucian was in the same city as his Rhianna, and he hoped dearly she heeded his warning and kept safe. Lucian was a threat to him alone, and if others of his pack were there, Rhianna's only chance would be to outrun them, which wouldn't be an issue if not for Lucian himself and the she-wolf who was different. She was agile enough to catch Rhianna, perhaps even him. These events occuring at the same time bothered him.

He felt the plane lowering, and rather than wait, simply found a hole and jumped, slowing his fall a little as he got closer to a building. He landed well despite his injuries, knowing full well a human would be dead, and took off. Lucian was here all right, he could feel it. After their fight, he could sense him dozens of miles away, but had only really been that close a few spare times on contracts. He was relatively certain Lucian could sense him too. Taking off, Seth made his way straight to his hideout, not even bothering to kill the lycan who he'd caught simply staring at him. The lycan was young, but smart enough to realize he was outmatched, so Seth decided to spare him. Besides, he had more pressing issues on his mind. Rhianna.

He barged into his home to find it just as still as usual, Rhianna looking down with distaste at a human male passed out on the floor, whom he paid little attention to. He was relieved to see her unharmed, and apparently unaware of the unrest. That meant things had not gotten too bad around here yet, and she'd be able to find out from him and adjust accordingly than to be taken by surprise on the streets. Lucian was deadly enough without the element of surprise.

It had been some time since Lucian had been in the states. The country had the largest number of both Vampires and Lycans than in any other country. This was due to it's settlement. Immigrants had come from all over to settle in what was once known as the 'new world' and human settlers weren't the only ones that had been attracted to it. Because of that, there was no wonder as to why it was the main battleground of the war that waged between the two races. When a high number of Vampires and Lycans are forced to co-exist in close quarters with one another, things tend to get out of hand quickly.

As for the elder Lycan himself, he called the area that is now known as Iran home. Though when he was young, it was known as the Persian Empire. But that was several millenniums ago, and things were different now. Lucian had spent the past ten years in southern Asia, learning the ways of their warriors in his never ending quest to become the greatest warrior the world had ever seen. It was a promise he had made to his father, and in a way to all Lycans everywhere. This had made Lucian somewhat of a legend to his people, an ancient hero that came to their aide when times were at their worst. Every Lycan knew of him, but only a few knew he was real.

In the distance the great Lycan sensed an old comrade approaching him at great speed, though not as fast as most people of their race. Zaheer Isanti, the Ebony Giant, was once again returning to Lucian as his ever faithful right hand man. It was no doubt that he was the strongest of the race, but he had sacrificed a great deal to attain that strength. Zaheer was slower than any Lycan of his age, and his senses weren't quite as keen as most. None the less, there was no one else Lucian would rather have at his side. Lucian smiled as the now nude Zaheer approached him.

"It has been too long my old friend. Now, prepare yourself. A time for action is upon us. The other pack members will be joining us shortly, and we will patiently wait their arrival. I will explain everything when all are present. Now then..." Lucian looked over at the man, who had not said a word or even blinked when Lucian had been speaking. "Get dressed." Zaheer responded with a quick nod and headed into their former base to do as he was instructed. There was no questioning Lucian, no disobeying him. Lucian always knew what was best, and his orders were absolute.

Lucian's keen senses had picked up another presence a short while ago. Though it was familiar, it was not a member of his pack, or even his race. The Ancient Vampire Seth seemed to be residing in the area, along with his ever faithful associate Rhianna. He had known she was there ever since he arrived, but he was not interested in picking off weak Vampires at the moment. Rhianna would have been an easy kill, and without her Seth would have surely lost a valuable asset, but something much more serious was on his mind and right now. His main priority was reforming his pack and getting things underway. Removing Seth from this world would have to wait.

Zaheer had returned from the bunker wearing simple clothes that had been left inside after the pack had disbanded. It didn't take long for him to realize Seth was near. The giant Lycan glanced over at his elder, but by reading the expression on his face he knew this wasn't what this was all about. Something else was on the Lycan Lord's mind, something far more bothersome than one Vampire Ancient.

Lillith almost wished she’d been near Phoenix when she’d heard the summons of her Alpha, but she knew that her experiences would have been less satisfactory had she stayed in the desert. While she didn’t mind Arizona so much, she still preferred the places where the seasons would visibly change rather than remaining practically the same year-around. Even when she had been young and had been with her nomadic pack in Europe, she had preferred such places.

Despite this, she felt her duties and loyalties outweighed any environmental or weather-related preferences. She would rather serve at Lucian’s side than wander alone or with any other pack. It was time to go home, time to return to Phoenix, Arizona.

Among her kind, Lillith was a bit unique. Due to her preference for her travel form, she could move more quickly than those lycans who maintained a preference for either their human forms or for their werewolf forms – the form that was halfway between the man and the wolf. However, what she maintained in speed and agility, she lacked in brute strength. This wasn’t to say she wasn’t strong, she just wasn’t as strong as her alpha and beta males.

For instance, if she was to spar against someone like Zaheer, her only chance at winning would be to avoid any blows he could deliver until his endurance ran low enough that she could deliver some shots of her own. One blow from someone as powerfully strong as her pack-mate would send her reeling. Of course, she had a lot of endurance. She could keep up a fast pace for a long time, but even she had her limits.

If she hadn’t required food and rest to revitalize her body, the trip from Minnesota’s dense woodlands to the overpopulated Phoenix, Arizona would have taken about seventeen hours, for she also had to avoid revealing herself for what she was in more populated areas. Humans were weak creatures, but what they lacked in strength, they made up for it in numbers and in technology. She had been living in the wild ever since the war-pack and disbanded, so she wasn’t aware of just how powerful the humans had become. She was simply keeping to the ways she had been taught since science had progressed enough among that race to ensure they were at least a small threat to hers.

At last, she knew she was coming closer to her destination. The pollution of the capitol of Arizona reached her nostrils, practically choking her. Lillith longed for the clear, clean scents of the northern woodlands, but she would grow used to the smog; she could adapt to anything.

She had been traveling at a full sprint – with periodic rests – for over a day, and now that she was on the outskirts of the city, she could detect the scents of two of her pack mates: Lucian and Zaheer. Her stomach clenched in anticipation and in excitement, and her heart beat faster as she drew nearer to them. Would time have changed them at all? Had her dreams told her truths of their whereabouts, or had they been idle fancies?

Lillith supposed it didn’t truly matter so long as they were alive and well. They must have detected her coming. With as fast as she ran, it was difficult to be stealthy, but her movements were still graceful. Little had changed in the terrain in the time they’d been separated. Perhaps that was the mark of the desert: the never-changing seasons and a never-changing environment.

The sun was shining overhead, and the first person she saw was her Alpha, Lucian. Flicking her olive eyes momentarily away from her leader, she spotted Zaheer. It was a wonder she hadn’t seen the giant first, but she had always felt drawn toward her Alpha, even before she’d been able to truly take his measure when she’d first been assigned to his pack so long ago. His confidence and his air of authority were part of what made him a great leader. His intelligence and tactical knowledge were other things. However, there was another part of him, something that could scarcely be explained that made him such a great Alpha, but that was more something she had picked up from him instinctively, something for which she had no words to describe.

Lillith halted quickly before them both, the dust from the sand she’d kicked up by running settling around her. Her eyes did not meet Lucian’s, and she even went so far as to bow her wolf-like head respectfully. The sounds of popping and cracking filled the air for a moment, and the she-wolf’s form transformed.

No cry came from her lips as her bones rearranged themselves, her legs bending in the opposing directions to form human legs and arms. Her large paws elongated and became thinner to form feet and long-fingered hands. The soft fur that had lined her body retracted, and the hair atop her head grew into long, chocolate waves that cascaded down her back. Her ears shrunk and rounded seeming to move to be more at the sides of her head than the top as her muzzle shrank and flattened. Her tail completely disappeared.

In only a few seconds, the large, slender wolf who had stood before them had transformed into a beautiful, fit woman. While her fur had served as a means of covering her as a wolf, she had nothing to conceal her womanly curves as a biped, but she was not ashamed. Lillith had never been ashamed of what was natural. Clothing only served as a means of protection from the elements, but she currently stood in the shade of a bunker and cacti.

“I heard your call with my ears as well as with my heart. I came as fast I could. Has the war begun anew?”

“Nope, never seen him before.” The manager of K&B’s Mattress Warehouse handed the photo of Roger Hanover back to Nick. “Well,” he amended, “Not before yesterday at least.” He was as nervous as the rest of the rest of the people Nick had talked to while making his way around the Northridge Business Park, but that was no surprise. News of Hanover’s arrest and reports of attempted bombings had made it out in time for the eleven o’clock news the same night he’d been arrested. No one knew exactly where the leak came from, the police were blaming the FBI, and Nick’s bosses were blaming the Phoenix PD. Needless to say it was all a mess and quickly becoming far too public for Nick’s tastes. He was just glad he hadn’t been asked to be a part of the press conference.

Instead he’d headed out to Hanover’s intended bombing site to see if he could put some sort of reason behind Hanover’s apparent madness. They still didn’t know where exactly in the large business park Hanover had intended to plant his bomb. His public defender had arrived shortly after his comment about demons and promptly ordered the man to stop talking. Hanover had obeyed and hadn’t said a word since, which left Nick looking for any sort of connection between Hanover and the Northridge Business Park. Something that would put a kink in the insanity plea Hanover’s lawyer was already concocting. So far though, there didn’t seem to be a thing tying the two together. Hanover had never worked for any of the business run out of Northridge and no one there could remember ever seeing him before his picture accompanied their evening news.

“Thanks for your help,” Nick said, trying to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. It wasn’t this man’s fault Hanover apparently was crazier than a shithouse rat. He’d wanted to ask the folks around the park about some of the other highlighted words they’d found in Hanover’s journal, but his bosses had shut that idea down immediately. No need to get people worried and guessing over nothing, he’d been told, and a good part of him agreed. However, that didn’t stop Nick from wanting answers, from wanting things to make sense. He sighed as he stepped back out into the sunlight, fumbling with Hanover’s mugshot and his own sunglasses. This was why he hated working with the crazies: nothing ever fit together and two plus two somehow always wound up making five.

Even when hid did his best to put himself in Hanover’s mind, drawing on a religious background that was only a few hairs saner than Hanover himself, Nick still couldn’t make sense of Hanover’s plot to blow up some building in a business park. If there’d been a Planned Parenthood or even a Hot Topic in the area he could have at least found a sliver of twisted logic to Hanover’s plan, but as it stood he had nothing.

Pausing outside of the mattress warehouse, Nick surveilled the buildings stretching out around him. The Northridge Business Park was fronted by a few small retail properties, which gave way to a few small office buildings—mostly insurance and the like—before merging into warehouses and a few undeveloped lots. All of it connected by service lanes, snaking parking lots and a few small patches of wilted landscaping. Not the sort of place he would choose to live beneath if he were a demon, Nick thought sardonically.

He’d made his way through all of the buildings, talking with the owners or managers of each business and asking them to talk to their employees in turn, to see if anyone knew Roger Hanover. There was only one place left to go, one he’d saved for last because he thought it would be his best bet at finding anything.

The Northridge Business Park Security Office was a small thing, with only a pair of un-cushioned chairs for waiting in and a counter that separated a bored looking man in his late fifties from the reception chairs. The security guard, whose nametag labeled him as Verne, looked up from a copy of Hustler when Nick pushed the door open. “Can I help you?” He asked without much enthusiasm.

“Yeah,” Nick said. He pulled out his badge and set it on the counter for Verne to look at, along with Hanover’s mugshot. “Special Agent Nick Callaghan. I just wanted to see if you recognized this man.”

Verne’s eyes scoured his badge and the photo with unexpected shrewdness and attention. “You mean do I recognize him from before his face was all over the papers and the news?”

Nick gave the security guard his best “don’t piss off the guy who carries a real gun” glare at the sarcasm.

Verne ignored the look and nodded. “Yeah, after I saw his picture on the news and heard he’d decided to blow us up, I went back through a lot of the security footage and found him a few times.” He beckoned Nick around the desk and rolled his chair over to a slightly out of date computer monitor that showed rotating images from all of the park’s cameras. A few clicks and Verne called up a particular piece of footage, showing Roger Hanover sitting in his van in one of the parking lots. “I’ve got about six other clips like this. A few times he walked around, never threatened anyone or did anything suspicious so no one ever noticed him before, but he was definitely here.” The security guard shook his head and laughed a bit. “Crazy SOB. Couldn’t he think of anywhere better to blow up than this god-forsaken place?”

“I’m going to need a copy of that footage,” Nick said. He was glad to know he hadn’t wasted an entire afternoon walking around this place. This footage might not prove Roger Hanover was anything but crazy, but it was another piece of evidence to throw on the fire. Thus heartened, Nick took a small chance on the surprisingly competent security guard. He pulled out a folded bunch of photocopies and smoothed them out before passing them to Verne. “I know it’s hard to read a lot of it, but is there anything in here that might pertain to the business park?”

The papers were copies of pages from Hanover’s journal, the ones he’d been told not to show around. Showing them to one person hardly seemed like it would cause a panic though, especially considering Verne already had footage of Hanover and he hadn’t sold that to the highest bidder or posted it on Youtube.

“I already have it on a CD,” Verne said of the video footage, handing Nick a disk in a cheap plastic case before taking the photocopies. “I figured someone would come around asking for it sooner or later.” The security guard’s eyes scanned the pages of Hanover’s diary with frowning puzzlement before shaking his head and handing them back to Nick. “It’s all gobbledygook to me,” he said with a shake of his head. “I mean some of it’s from the Bible or something, isn’t it? But I’ve got no clue how that’s supposed to relate to this place.”

“All right, well, thanks for all your help,” Nick said, extending a hand to the security guard, who shook it with more strength than Nick would have imagined.

“Happy to help,” Verne replied with a grin. “I’m just glad you guys caught the bastard before blasted my job to smithereens.” With a final nod, Nick took his leave, heading out of the security office and back to his car.

Inside the office, Verne watched him go on the parking lot cameras. When the FBI agent was safely out of the business park, he picked up the business phone and dialed a special number he’d memorized years ago, but had never had a reason to call before. A click on the other end of the line signaled that someone had picked up. “Yeah,” he said into the receiver. “It’s Verne over at the Northridge Entrance. I think we have a problem.”

Grateful that it was late in the year and the night came early, Easton walked through the O’Hare airport with all the self-assurance of a minor deity. She barely noticed the throngs around her. They simply didn’t matter to her. She was focused on Eli Callaghan. If she was lucky, she would find him immediately. She wanted to resolve this unpleasant duty as soon as she could. She’d never actually met Lucy or Eli before, so she had no idea what sort of person he would be. Entering a cab and giving the address of her hotel, Easton sat back in foul-smelling seat. It was times like this that she truly regretted her enhanced senses.

She only corrected the Cabbie once on the way to her hotel when he attempted to pad the fare. He’d thrown her a sour look, but didn’t attempt it again. She sighed, Thousands of years and humans never changed. They never would. Easton took care of the business of checking into the hotel in short order and ensured the blackout drapes were drawn together carefully. If she had to return here quickly, she didn’t want to spend unnecessary time covering up. She might be able to withstand it, but Eli certainly wouldn’t.

After a small moment of primping, Easton left her room to hail another cab. This time, she gave the address that Sergei had provided for Eli’s last known residence. She chose not to call ahead, in case the boy decided to run for some misguided reason. The cab ride took over a half hour in the snarled traffic typical of the city. But finally, she stepped out to stand before the charming brownstone Lucy had chosen to live in before she’d died.

After Lucy’s death, Eli permanently moved into the basement. It wasn’t much of a move really, most of his equipment had already been stored down there, and he’d had a tendency to fall asleep on the ratty but inexplicably comfortable sofa down there. With Lucy gone it was the only place he still felt comfortable in the house they’d shared. A part of him had wanted to sell it, move out and even move on from Chicago entirely, but every time he’d started the process he’d failed. He couldn’t sell the house because it had been Lucy’s. She’d grown up here, inheriting it several years after she’d been turned, a surprise given her estrangement from her parents, and it was still packed full of reminders of Lucy, little pieces of her life littered the house and he couldn’t quite bear to leave her behind entirely. Not yet.

Instead he’d moved downstairs, where it was safer anyway, with only a few garden level windows to black out. Upstairs he’d rented out the two bedrooms to a few tenants, artistic types, the sort of people Lucy had always liked, who could enjoy the eccentric furnishings and décor she’d left behind, as well as respect Eli’s odd hours and need for darkness, especially when he’d explained that the need was for his own art, as well as a photosensitive skin condition.

Evening found him locked away downstairs, headphones in his ears as he clicked and viewed his way through his current job. Since Lucy’s death Eli had been in a creative rut regarding his own filmmaking, so he’d taken to working on other people’s projects, editing, cleaning up sound and picture quality, and a little creative consulting, mostly for friends from school or old contacts within the industry. It wasn’t particularly thrilling, but it was something to take his mind off other things, which was exactly what he was trying to do tonight. He didn’t want to think about what had happened the night before, of how he’d possibly killed a man. That was easier said than done though, especially since the interview footage he was editing was horribly dull.

Over the dry monotone of a wheezing expert on World War I, Eli distantly heard the doorbell ring upstairs, but it barely registered. Marina and Sean, the two humans he rented rooms to had people over often enough.

Upstairs, Marina Harris opened the front door of the brownstone house, expecting to find her boyfriend waiting on the other side of it. Her bright smile sank a bit as she found another woman waiting on the other side. “Hi,” she said, still managing to hang onto a good measure of friendliness. “Can I help you?”

Easton smiles charmingly at the young human woman. She could tell someone else had been expected. Getting down to business, she asks, “I’m looking for Eli Callaghan. Is he home?”

The girl takes in Easton’s upscale clothes, carefully made up face and elegant hairstyle and raises a brow in suspicion. “Uhhh. Maybe. Is he expecting you…Miss…?”

Easton smiles again when the girl turns a bit protective of the young film maker. She produces a business card with the name she is using now and the title as owner of several restaurants and bars in Las Vegas. “My name is Easton Frost. And actually? No, he isn’t. I have a business proposition for him.” Her ingenuous smile remains in place and seems to reassure the girl.

Marina finally shrugs, perhaps figuring Eli can take care of himself. Turning, the girl lets Easton inside and then points her to the door that leads to the basement. “He lives downstairs. He should still be up. He works nights.” That advice given, she leaves Easton at the door alone.

Easton turns the knob and opens the peeling door. It creaks slightly, but she hadn’t been trying to hide her presence. It is never a good idea to frighten a Vampire. Even a young one. Stepping inside, Easton notes the lack of any lighting with a soft smile, then calls out. “Eli? Eli Callaghan? I need to speak with you.” Her tone is at once gentle, and commanding.

Eli turned up the volume on his headphones to guard against listening to Marina and her boyfriend when they inevitably started making out on the front porch. The dry voice of the interviewed professor boomed in his ears, cutting out even his preternaturally-enhanced hearing. He couldn’t begrudge others their happiness, but he didn’t want to have to listen in on it.

“Eli?”

Eli jumped at the faint sound of his name, barely audible above the volume of his headphones. It startled him nonetheless and he was off the old couch in a heartbeat. He’d half-expected it to be Marina, but even as he stood a prickling along the back of his neck told him he didn’t recognize this voice.

He pulled the headphones down to face the woman who’d intruded into his space and tensed when he realized that not only was she a stranger, but she sure as hell wasn’t human. “Fuck,” he muttered quietly.

Easton hadn’t moved when Eli bolted upright from the couch. He stood there staring at her and she smiled at him, giving him a chance to recover just a little. The short pause also afforded her a moment to study the boy. Not bad looking, tall, but something about him seemed abnormally apprehensive. She decided to take a few steps forward to hand him another of her business cards. “Hello, Eli. My name is Easton. Easton Frost.” She paused very slightly, guessing he must have noted that she was a Vampire. “I knew Lucy. Slightly.” She amended. “We have a great deal to talk about.”

Eli took the proffered business card but didn’t actually read it. That would have involved taking his eyes off this woman he didn’t know. “Like what?” He asked in response to her claim that they had things to discuss.

He’d only ever known a few vampires besides Lucy. Even after he’d become one, they’d mostly kept to themselves, too deeply engrossed in each other to look beyond. He’d met a few of her friends, who were mostly young—as vampires went—and nomadic, stopping by when they were in Chicago, but never staying. After Lucy’s death, Eli had neither the desire or the means to contact any of them. One thing he was certain of, was that he’d never heard Lucy mention an “Easton Frost.”

Standing awkwardly next to the couch in the rumpled clothes he slept in, the headphones around his neck still giving a dry monologue on Prussian politics, Eli felt trapped. He didn’t know what to do or what to think. His first thought when he’d realized the woman in front of him was a vampire was that he was in deep shit. Someone must have found out about the mugger he’d fed from the night before.

That didn’t seem to be the case, but he still couldn’t entirely dismiss the feeling that he was in some sort of trouble. Even if he was though, Eli very much doubted there was a thing he could do about it. He knew his strength and speed were infantile compared to most vampires.

Easton watched Eli and could almost guess at the thoughts chasing themselves around in his head as he faced her. She flashed him a dazzling smile, one meant to put him at ease. She shrugged her slender shoulders, “I’m sure you must have some idea. Or Lucy really did fail in her duty to you.” Only years of experience kept the sneer from her voice. Anyone that selfishly turns their Human lover, Easton saw as fodder. They didn’t deserve to live.

Indicating the battered couch, Easton asked coyly, “May I sit? Or would you prefer to remain standing at attention like some boot camp soldier in front of their drill sergeant?” She laughed softly, “I can assure you, I am not anything of the kind.” Without waiting for his invitation, she rounded the arm of the sofa and sat elegantly. “Come. I don’t bite, I assure you. We do need to talk though. Then you can pack.”

Eli bristled at the subtle insult to his deceased wife. Even if she had a point he wouldn’t have admitted it, not if she had so little respect. They’d had so little time together, even if Lucy had failed to teach him things it was hardly her fault. They were supposed to have an eternity, not the six months they’d been given after she’d turned him. Beneath his t-shirt Eli could feel the matching gold wedding bands he wore on a chain bump softly against his chest as he stiffened even further.

It was Easton’s last few words that really caught him though. “Excuse me?” He said incredulously. He pulled the headphones from around his neck just to make sure he hadn’t misheard her somehow, although he knew he hadn’t. “Why in the world would I be packing?” The fear he'd initially felt at Easton's sudden appearance was quickly beginning to fade beneath a rising swell of anger.

Eli’s anger and defensive posture had no impact on Easton’s demeanor at all. She simply nodded, “Yes. Pack. Because you will be returning to Phoenix with me.” She raised a hand to him as if to forestall any arguments. “Hear me out.” She began to explain. “You are young. You will make mistakes. Perhaps fatal ones. But, that is neither here or there.” She said, almost dismissively. “The real issue is that because of your inexperience, you might become a danger to the rest of us.” She shook her head at him, “And that we cannot allow.” She intentionally let that last weight the air between them.

She didn’t speak for a few ticks of the clock, “And so. I am here to bring you to Phoenix so you can be taught, protected and kept alive.” She smiled once more. “You’re very lucky, really. Such special treatment isn’t all that common.”

“Phoenix,” Eli said, momentarily stupefied by that one little word. Then he laughed, although there wasn’t any real humor in it. “You’re shitting me, right?” He shook his head, somehow the anger and fear both fled before the utterly absurd idea that he was ever going to set foot in Phoenix, Arizona again. Giving another chuckle full of gallows humor, Eli picked up his laptop and set about saving his work before he forgot about it and had to edit the damn thing twice.

“You know I’m from Phoenix, right?” He told Easton as he worked. “I have over a dozen relatives in the greater metropolitan area, not to mention old acquaintances, people I went to school with, friends of the family, et cetera. All of whom are under the impression that I’m, well…alive.” He turned to Easton and pinned her with a pointed glare. “How exactly is that ‘safer’ than my current plan of staying the hell away so no one I know figures out I deep fry in sunlight?”

An ebon brow quirked northward on her brow when Eli decided to ‘grow a pair’. She wrinkled her nose, such a vulgar expression, even if it was fitting. “Yes.” She murmured dryly. “I had heard something to that effect. You have a brother in the FBI among other things. That is truly the crux of it, if you want the bald truth.” She smiled again, only this time, it was more forced. “You are going to be protected and taught with or without your permission.”

Easton crossed her legs at the ankle while studying him, “It’s all a matter of what is best for the whole. You, as I’ve been reminded, are a problem for all of us.” Her smile returned before she added, “As for your family and friends,” She pause, not believing she was about to say this, “I’ll help you there. I’ve been through this sort of thing a few times.”

Eli shook his head and leaned his back against one of the bookshelves filled with Lucy’s novel collection. “No,” he said firmly. It sent a shiver down his spine that someone—some other vampire—had looked into him enough to know about Nick. The last thing he was ever going to do was put his brother or anyone else in his family in any sort of danger. Easton’s assurances that she’d “been through this sort of thing” before didn’t reassure him in any way.

“No,” Eli repeated. “I know I’m new at all of this, and I know I pretty much suck as a vampire—pun not intended—but no. I am not going back to Phoenix with you. If you want me to go spend a few decades learning to be the best vampire I can be pretty much anywhere else in the world, that’s negotiable. I’m not going anywhere near that desert hellhole though.” He crossed his arms over his chest and stubbornly locked eyes with Easton.

Slowly, fluidly, Easton rose to her feet. She allowed Eli to stew in his refusal for several long moments while she stepped closer to him. It was not coincidental that she effectively blocked his only escape from the basement with her own body. She caught his gaze and stared at Eli intently before finally speaking. “I don’t believe I was negotiating with you, Mr. Callaghan. Nor was I giving you a choice.” Easton lowered her voice when she was mere millimeters from him. “The best way to keep your family safe and unaware of the current state of being you find yourself in is to do as you are told.”

That threat delivered in a soft hiss, Easton stepped back from the young man slightly. She had truly hoped she wouldn’t have to resort to threats, but his stubborn refusal to see sense was dwindling the odds rapidly.

On a logical level, Eli had known from the moment he’d realized Easton was a vampire that she was far, far more powerful than he was. He’d known she could kill him without breaking a nail or mussing her hair. He’d always had a tendency to let his emotions guide him though. He’d spent most of his childhood hiding his feelings, so as an adult they’d become ever more prone to overruling the logical parts of his brain.

When Easton began stalking toward him though, the emotional reality of his situation caught up with the logical aspect of it. He swallowed and shifted nervously against the bookcase, but refused to move, even as she ripped straight through his personal space. Her threat echoed through his mind and dropped a ball of ice into his stomach.

As Easton backed off a bit, Eli took a deep breath and let it out slowly to try and collect himself. The breath came out as a quiet hiss, and an unbowed glare. Through clenched teeth he snarled at Easton. “I don’t care how old and powerful or how much of a bitch you are, do not threaten my family,” Eli growled.

Easton’s eyes narrowed slightly when Eli stood up to her. In other circumstances, she would have been impressed and even encouraged his independence. But, not right now. She didn’t have the time to be indulgent. In a blur of barely seen motion, Easton had Eli by the throat. She held him pinned to the wall a good 2 feet off the floor with only one hand holding him there. Her manicured nails gouged his skin slightly, causing thickened dark blood to ooze slowly from the small wounds. “And you are a fool if you think I care what happens to your family. I am here to ensure you do not jeopardize the rest of us by shining a huge neon sign above your head shrieking about your true nature.”

Just as suddenly, Easton dropped Eli to the floor negligently. Taking a step back, she glanced down to flick away an imaginary speck of dust from her sleeve before continuing. “There is a war going on, boy. It has been raging long before either of us have even been a thought. If you make a mistake, your family will be thrown into the middle of it all. You stand a tiny chance. They don’t.”

Easton skillfully played on Eli’s emotions. “Eli.” She warned softly. “You will return with me to Phoenix. It is the best way to ensure you and your family can be safe. But make no mistake, I am here to protect my kind. You and other Vampires. You might not care about us. But, I do and I won’t allow you to put us at risk.”

Eli coughed and rubbed a hand across his bruised, bleeding neck. He pushed himself back into a sitting position and glared up at Easton.

“And if I still say no?” Eli asked defiantly, already knowing the general answer.

Easton merely shrugged. “You can say no all the way there for all I care. But go you will.” She returned to the couch and made herself comfortable. “Please pack your things. We leave tomorrow night as soon as it’s dark.” She watched him for a moment, “You can thank me later.”

It wasn't that she was unaware of a newcomer to the city. Hell, Rhi didn't know all the signs of all the vampires or lycans who lived there but enough that when she sensed one stronger, she knew it was new. It had been only a passing notice since the lycan whom she'd sensed was too far away to give her any more than that. Seth had never told her she couldn't leave the house, but after that sense, she was a little more wary, choosing to stay nearer to the home until she knew Seth was alright.

She had been sitting there, gaze passing between the unconscious male and the wall. Seth would really be the death of her if she hadn't been dead already. That was one thought that kept spiraling through her mind but she simply wanted her Sire back. All those centuries ago, when she had first met him it had been surprising because he was nothing like other males she had met. He seemed older and more worldly, plus he was exactly the type her father never wanted her around. So she willingly followed the bad boy just to disobey her father though she had never expected the outcome of waking up a few days later, confused as to why everything seemed more in focus and strange. Just to find out she had died and awoken again, and that the one to change her was Seth, now her Sire. She had hated him at first for tearing her away from her life, putting all the blame on him that was rightfully his. But when there was no course to go back to where she came from, she relented. And she found she didn't mind being with him.

She had been so deep in her thoughts that she didn't sense her Sire. Certainly she didn't know he was there until the door had swung open, the vampiress doing just as she would when she was startled, surging out of her chair, muscles completely relaxed to attack rather than tensing up. For a moment violet eyes were narrowed, the long braid still swinging against her back from the sudden move, until she focused on who she faced. Then the eyes widened and she stared like she was seeing a ghost. In a few steps, the vampiress was crossing the room, ignoring the human as she stepped over him to greet the other male. He would just have to deal with it if he didn't want her close, after all, he had worried her that much that he would have to deal with arms sliding around his shoulders as the pale haired girl stepped close, pressing a kiss to his mouth whether or not he returned it before she was pulling away. It was so good to have her Sire back and even better since even for a moment she could have sworn he looked worried about her. Was there a reason he should be worried that she couldn't care for herself? It seems there was.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Things were explained, at least about Lucian being near by. There were little details he had told her about the lycan, and none that Rhianna liked and she disliked the wolf even more now since Seth actually seemed concerned that he was here. She ended up putting it out of her mind for the moment since there was nothing to be done about it until she met the lycan or any of his followers if she ever did. Though when Seth told her about how old he believed the lycan was, she reflected back to the sense she'd had, and knew it couldn't be him, but someone a bit younger. She hadn't gone back to the edge of the city where she had sensed it since the first time, no reason to take a chance.

Rather she was on a job now. A call had come in, though Seth had been busy with some or other task, so Rhianna had handled the call, something she had done before but was rare enough. She wasn't given exact directions of what they wanted done. Just that certain people may possibly know things about their kind and if they wanted to keep the secret then she would have to kill. One to kill was the prisoner, the other was one she might be able to get details from. It wasn't confirmed whether she should kill him or not, but that he seemed to know more and had some interesting connections.

So she did her research before going off to find her targets. One was easier than the other, being that he was already behind bars so she simply had to sneak into jail, something that was almost too easy for the 500 year old vampire, having learned enough from Seth, as well as other ways, to sneak in unseen. It took a little longer than she liked to weave her way through the building, having to pause now and then to hide until the humans she spotted passed by. But she had used her time well, if the officers had interrogated Roger again then they were already gone. Which meant other than rounds in the night, no one would notice he was dead until morning, and she would be long gone. So quick as a whisper she slipped into the cell, pouncing on the dumb human before he could scream, hands around his jaw and twisting. She left him, still stretched out on the cot as though in sleep to hunt for her other target.

He had already left the building by the time she had made her kill. Trying not to curse, she wormed her way out the nearest window, knowing she would need to make better time if she was going to catch him before he got out in the open. No one would notice the vampire making the drop from one window to another, though she had aimed carefully to catch herself. Even if a fall from this height might not kill her, it certainly would hurt quite a bit so she took it in stages before sneaking in through the floor just above the parking garage. If he were still here, he would be heading there. She glanced at the photo just to confirm the features she was looking for, having spotted him on her way to the cell.

This seemed to be her lucky day. He must have been held up in the office because he was only just walking through the garage, the vampiress becoming his lean shadow. Finding no fun in simply attacking from behind, she slipped around, perching herself on the trunk of the nearest parked car though he wouldn't see her until he walked further on. One ankle was crossed over her knee in a relaxed pose, leaning back on the metal, pale violet eyes on the agent. Lips curved in what might have been an inviting grin if it wasn't for the fang revealed by the grin,"You've been bad Nick. You would have been better off keeping your nose out."

Delicately she was sliding off the car, all fluid grace as she stalked toward the agent. And unless he could anticipate her speed, he would be unconscious from a rather solid strike to the head before she was making a call to the cab service. While she could simply carry him back to the home, it was so much more of a pain and gathered more attention so with the use of Seth's name to speed up the process, she was dumping the unconscious FBI agent in the cab and directing them to a place near the home she and Seth used. Wouldn't do to lead anyone straight to their safe home.

Once back she dumped the agent off on the nearest piece of furniture, a little more careful as she checked him for weapons. Less fun if he had a gun on him when he woke up. But she didn't waste anything to tie him up. Bah, that would be dull if she didn't have a reason to fight him if he tried to attack. If the caller was right, he knew far to much and she was going to find out just what he knew. Maybe even Seth would join in to find out, though she hadn't told her Sire about this job or what it entailed. Details, details, they could be worried about later. Right now she had an unconscious FBI agent whom she was waiting to wake up so she could question him.

Seth sat outside in the waiting area of the council. This was out of place for Seth, being so patient on something he deemed important enough to do himself. In fact, Rhianna was currently in charge of any contracts she deemed she could handle, but was strictly forbidden to take contracts on any lycan for the time being. If a contract was found to be a lycan during the course, then it's death was allowed. Lucian was not likely to be too concerned about the lives of every lycan here, so individuals other than his pack members were allowed, just not to be made a habit of. Seth did not have the time, means, or strength to worry about having Lucian and his pack after him and Rhianna like last time, when Rhianna went a little crazy in a lycan city.

Even the council could not sense him, which was bothersome enough to begin with. Save one member, the Blood Lord. Seth was sure that their beloved leader, Mepheest, could sense him. However, out of the entire council, Mepheest was the only one who appreciated the way Seth worked, and held no direct fear of Seth. It wasn't so much he didn't consider Seth dangerous, just that he knew Seth had no reason to want his death. Which was true enough. Seth felt the loss of Mepheest in the council would bore bad times for those like him. Mepheest was the only one left on the council who agreed that though vampires should adapt to modern times, they should not forget their old values. If Seth ever were to consider somebody a friend, Mepheest would be it. But they were not friends, since both knew should advantage arise to the other upon their deaths, that it would be a likely event.

The clerk at the counter looked up at Seth again, eyeing him. "Sir, if you won't tell me who you are there's no way I can let you into the council chamber. And I promise you, despite your confidence, you wouldn't be able to force your way in."


That's what they thought last time, and the guard was infinitely better trained than the piles of beef you have now. Seth couldn't help but think. However, that was not the way he wanted to enter this time. He wanted their attention, not their fear and hostility. "Just give Meph a buzz and tell him the visitor outside wants to enter, a bit more politely this time if possible."

She shook her head, "How could he possibly accept that without a name?" She retorted, but picked up the phone anyways. Seth sighed at her complete ignorance. Surely she at least knew that many ancients could sense the beings around them. Or had she honestly not realized he was an ancient as well. Her total lack of respect and knowledge infuriated him. She worked at the fucking council for Hell's sake! Had she no skill other than answering a phone? "Yes, he said that. Surely you don't think he... you're sure? What do you.."

Seth almost laughed as he saw the color drain from her face. Well, what little there was. He figured she'd have probably shit herself if she were still alive. He was curious as to how much detail she was given as she now stared in his direction, every muscle in her body tensing to send her running in the opposite direction. "I take that as a yes." He said as he got up calmly, "I do hope the guards get informed because I'd hate to have to kill them. With what I've seen, it will be much easier than last time." He mocked as he walked past her to the door. His hand touched the door and he could sense her start to relax. In an instant, he turned and dashed towards her. She had no time to react, as his hand found her throat and slammed her into a wall. She groaned as he muscles screamed in futile protest when his fangs entered her neck. He drained her until she was barely the strength of an unfed fledgling vampire despite being almost as old as Rhianna. "Next time, mind your manners. If you're still too weak to sense when you're in the presence of an ancient, I'd make damn sure you knew any possible visitor with such status. Next one might not be feeling as generous."

His sneer left him as he left her there, stunned on the ground, and went towards the council. The guards eyed him, but had apparently been told to let him past, for none of them moved to stop him. But they all saw the blood on his lips and he could only imagine the thoughts going through their head. There was one more door until he walked into the council chamber. He pushed it open, and watched as the entire council turned to see their visitor, surprise and fear entering every face except two. Mepheest, and the newest member, whom noticed the look on the rest of the council, and looked at Seth with confused curiosity.

"My Councilmen." Seth started, bowing lightly to show them he was not here to kill one of them as he had last visit, a millinia ago, "I have grave, dire news. You who know me must realize that this is of greatest urgency for me to appear before you like this, and I assure you it is. Every one of you is targetted for death!"

The council spat, all rising. Surely they didn't think he would give a speech like that if he meant to be the killer. Did they remember so little of his last entrance. They hardly knew he was there before there were two burning stakes planted in the chest of his victim. He stiffened as well ready to defend himself when Mepheest spoke. "My fellow councilmen, SIT DOWN!" Almost as if the order were coming from Satan himself, every councilman sat. Seth had to smirk, Mepheest sure kept them in line. This was why he respected the council leader. "Now, Seth, how have you come across such news? Did they attempt to hire you? And how is it, if they did not, that you think that they would stand any chance with such a feat. Few are as fearless and kill-driven as you, and I daresay even you wouldn't be the death of all of us, though I recognize the fact that we'd have to reform half the council if you were the assassin. Who else do you deem as much a threat that is not under our fingers?"

"One other vampire would be as grave a threat, Murchadh. And then there's the lycan lord, Lucian, who would come with an entire pack of some of the most skilled and dangerous lycan to be known. Either of these would do as much damage as me, and the lycan lord you may want to look into, for with his pack, I believe he could do more than just make a few vacant seats. Especially with your guard today."

Mepheest looked disturbed at the mention of such names. "Well, the beast is no assassin, but I could see your reasoning for wanting to be cautious as I too have felt him nearby. Does he know of our being here? Is that his purpose?"

"I know not what his purpose is, Blood Lord, but if he knew of this place and meant to attack it, he would have been here already. Especially now with me here as well. He does not fear an opponent who as strong as him, and would not pass such an opportunity up unless he had something else to focus on."

"Then is it Murchadh?" Mepheest question.

"No, Murchadh is dead. I saw it happened myself."

"You killed him? What gain have you from that?"

"None, and I did not. He died fighting at my side. Against a foe far more dangerous than he, I, and even Lucian with his entire pack. This monster fought of an attack from me and Murchadh together, along with two other ancients who worked under Murchadh. Trust me when I say they were skilled fighters, enough to have earned my respect. All three of them perished and I barely managed to escape, leaving our foe wounded but far from dead."

Mepheest took in what Seth said and for the first time, fear could be seen in his eyes. He understood. Seth and Murchadh, both of the same kind, had time to prepare for a battle and more allies noteworthy to them, and were not only unsuccessful, but defeated in a large majority. Such a creature to have this power was unheard of.

"What is this foe." Mepheest asked with the anticipation of the entire council.

"Rama." Seth spoke the simple statement which made no sense and explained how something so terrible was possible at the same time. "Rama is alive."

On Harry's desk lay several semi-important papers. Many were dealing with trading requests, others for some funding to continue research on some random project that they thought could help the world, and yet more about transfers out of the middle east. His brows furrowed at the transfer requests, knowing full well the current state of affairs in the region. Terrorism, after supposedly being stomped into the ground during the Afghanistan war, had started reappearing over the years, and was now a major threat down there. The thing that bothered him most, was the fact that the requests came from his security personnel. He quickly took a stamp, slamming it down on each request and watched as the red ink dried in the form of 'Denied' on the paper. They were paid to provide security, not eat donuts and sip coffee behind a wall of camera screens. After reading through some of the funding requests, he approved of all but two, grabbing the ones that could make him the most money in the least amount of time possible. Finally the trading requests came, and he couldn't help but sigh as several small, and completely insignificant countries applied several times in hoping of restoring their country. Whether the people of America wanted to believe it or not, he was in the business of making money, and not losing it. He denied those ones, knowing that only an inside leak could possibly let the country know he wasn't doing exactly what the President said he was, and he was too careful to allow such things as 'leaks'.

A knock on the door broke Harry's concentration as he looked up. "Enter." He stated, and returned to another stack of papers that had just arrived this morning. Mr. Gray stepped through the door once more, locking the door and stepping up to Harry's desk. Mr. Turner looked up briefly, before another file was placed on his desk. No words were spoken as he flipped open the file, and was greeted with more pictures of Lucian. Before he said anything, he flipped through all of them, and frowned slightly as more people started showing up. He placed his fingers on the bridge of his nose and squeezed. This was more of a headache than a threat. If an ancient was gathering his 'pack' then odds were that something big was going to happen. After all, one doesn't just disappear for years and return just to say "Hi, let's party!".

"Recent. We have pulled up files on all of them, but there are holes. Some of them went off the map, others have fully acclimatized into our culture. This could mean trouble if we wanted to track them once they got into the city." Harry knew exactly what he meant. They could easily blend in with the rest of society, despite their nature and some their size. Harry read through only a few files on Lucian's pack mates before closing the file and gently placing it on his desk. He placed his elbows on the table, and put his palms together.

"What I need done, is to have a satellite in position, recording their every move. I don't care if they rob a bank, or take a piss on a tree, I want to know where they are at all times. Do you hear me?" John nodded, and Harry waved him out. He couldn't see the future, nor would he claim he could, but something about this really didn't sit well for him. He didn't get this far without a sixth sense, and he wouldn't ignore it now. As he logged onto his computer, he noticed an unread email from one of his numerous contacts around the country. He opened it quickly, no sender being available. All that was within the email, was a link to a video. Harry quickly opened it, and was made privy to an interrogation room security camera feed. As he looked closer, he recognized the man being questioned, and immediately clicked open a window to his bank accounts. With a simple click of one of the many accounts, a password, and fingerprint scan, the account was locked out and all traces that lead back to him were gone. He was disappointed that he hadn't gotten this sooner, but understood that getting the feed from the FBI wasn't exactly the easiest thing to do. As the interrogator turned around, Harry framed his face, and saved it in a file for future reference. For now, he had more pressing matters to attend to.

---

"Continue with injection L-110X"

Minerva spoke through the speaker, and Zeus watched once more as Jasper walked in, injecting what looked like the identically same liquid into the Lycan, and walking out quickly. Several seconds passed before the man started twitching, then convulsing. Zeus leaned forward, as did Minerva as the Lycan appeared to be going into a full blown seizure, and then stopped. His bio-signs flat lined, and Zeus returned to his standing position. "So is that..." Minerva held up a finger, still leaning forward to the glass. Several tense seconds passed, and Zeus was about to question her again when suddenly the Lycan leapt back to life. He broke free of his harness, and he started to uncontrollable change into his werewolf form. This incident had been taken into account though, as the Lycan tried desperately to free himself from the collar to no avail. As he got larger, the spikes stabbed into his neck, and before he was even fully changed, he was lying on the ground dead and pooling in blood. Minerva slammed her fist against console, and spoke through the speaker again.

"Jasper, Brain, get in there and clean up the mess." Zeus simply stared at Minerva, who quickly turned away and strode back towards the lab. This is taking too long, we should simply take a bomb to this entire city, and watch the crumbling buildings kill everything. Zeus thought this to himself, as Isis made her way over to him. Her short blonde hair, blue eyes, and non-scarred face a complete contrast to the rest of his team. Her attitude though, fit right in.

"Sir, Boss wants to see you." Zeus nodded, giving one last look at the dead Lycan as Isis walked off to continue her duties. Finally he broke eye contact, and made his way towards the office, and hopefully towards a more progressive mission.

"Whatcha need sir?" Zeus asked the shadow of a man on the giant screen in the wall. The screen had already been in place when he walked in, and he still couldn't get over the feeling that he had been late for something.

"How would you feel about coming topside for a little while Lieutenant?" Zeus simply raised an eyebrow at the question.

"You mean Phoenix sir?" The figure nodded, and Zeus folded his arms. "Why do I get the feeling it's not for some well earned R and R?"

"I've already sent the file of the man that could present a problem should he be allowed too much freedom. You are not to engage unless specifically ordered by me. He is extremely dangerous, more so than those kids that your team seems to happy too kill night after night." Zeus twitched at the almost-insult tone in his voice, but said nothing. "You will bring one squad up with you while the rest of your team continues their operations down under. I expect you up here within the day." The screen blinked off, leaving no room for argument, and no space for questions.

"Always in the fucking dark." Zeus whispered to himself as a fax machine off in the corner lit up with life. He walked over, reading the paper as a Lycan by the name of Lucian Harth. As he read the age, and supposed title among his people, he couldn't help but manage a low whistle, and understand why he wasn't supposed to engage. He folded the file, and placed it in his back pocket, then made his way out of the office. Before he closed the door, he yelled out to one of his squad leaders from where he was standing.

"Ares! Get you're civvies! We're going on vacation!"

“God, I’m so sick of take-out,” Nick muttered around a mouthful of kung pao chicken. He was sitting in an unused conference room at Downs and Andrea’s precinct, staring at everything they knew about Roger Hanover spread out across the table and pinned to the walls. This was the part of working for the FBI they skimmed over at Quantico, he thought sourly, incomprehensible madness and heartburn from cheap Chinese food.

A heavy hand whacked against his back in Downs’ attempt at a friendly slap. It was solid enough to almost make Nick choke. “Cheer up, kid,” the detective said without much cheer himself. “When we’re don eating we can pull those copies of Hustler Hanover marked up with religious shit back out. That’ll cheer you right up.”

Across the table Andrea rolled her eyes as she bit into an egg roll. “You’re such a pig, Peter,” she said without any real anger. The three of them had been pouring over everything they had, plus the surveillance footage Nick had brought back from the business park, for hours, and chances were they wouldn’t get home for several more hours either.

Those expectations were cut short though, when a hour later Downs stretched in his chair and announced that he was leaving. “It’s not like we’re actually trying to solve a case,” he said. “We’re just compiling evidence for one that’s already clearly solved. Hell, we could probably just pack all this in a box and drop it off with the DA. Let the lawyers sort it all out.”

“He’s got a point,” Andrea agreed, hiding a yawn behind one hand. “Besides, if we leave no I don’t have to cancel my date again.”

Nick didn’t have anything to hurry home to, not after his last girlfriend had walked out six months ago, but he could sympathize with the detectives’ desire to leave, and he knew if he tried to stay behind alone it would only make the two of them feel guilty. “Okay, sounds good,” he replied. He could always work from home anyway, he thought as he loaded his laptop up.

He walked with Downs down to the first floor, where they separated, heading toward different parking lots. As he left the building, Nick twirled his keys on one finger and tried to figure out what he was going to do for the rest of the night and how exactly his life outside of work seemed to have vanished somewhere along the line.

His attention had wandered, but the sight of a young woman—barely more than a teenager—perched on the back end of a car stopped him in his tracks. Deep down in the lizard part of his brain, Nick felt a twinge of primal fear, but the more civilized parts of his mind squashed it before it could do more than send a chill down his spine. Then she smiled. He was far enough away that he couldn’t actually see the fangs in her mouth, but he knew something was off about this entire situation. His suspicions were only confirmed when she spoke.

"You've been bad Nick. You would have been better off keeping your nose out."

He’d opened his mouth to speak, to ask her what the hell she was doing in a police station parking lot, but the words died on his tongue. The hair on the back of his neck was on end. His hand instinctively drifted to the holster at his belt. Years of training stopped him from doing more than just unsnap the strap holding his sidearm in place.

That hesitation cost Nick the slim chance he might have had as the girl slipped of the car and moved inhumanly fast. His fingers had barely tightened around the grip when her fist collided with his temple. He was unconscious before he hit the concrete.


Nick’s stomach threatened to mutiny as he slowly woke up. The risk of vomiting was nothing though, not compared to the all-encompassing pounding in his head. Still stuck halfway to consciousness, his mind stumbled over the question: what the hell had happened?

A whole lot of things felt foggy, but a sudden shock of fear shot through his system, startling him fully awake. The shadowy room around him blurred and twisted as he sat up, but to his credit he managed to keep his stomach down. After a long minute and some deep breaths the room swam into focus again and Nick’s sense of foreboding was proved correct. He had absolutely no clue where he was.

It was some sort of antiquated living room—one that hadn’t been cleaned since its furnishings were probably in style. There were no windows amongst the paintings and bookcases on the walls and only one door. He didn’t hold much hope for it to be unlocked, not as his memories began to fill back in and he remembered the girl in the parking lot and something hitting his head. A part of him remembered it being the girl who’d hit him, but that hardly seemed logical. Maybe she’d hit him with something or had an accomplice. That made somewhat more sense, although absolutely none of this made sense.

Before he tried the door, Nick took stock of himself. There was a silver dollar sized lump on the left side of his head, his shoulder was sore and his lip was split, although he wasn’t sure what was from getting hit and what was from hitting the ground as he lost consciousness. His sidearm was gone, as were his badge, his cell phone, his handcuffs, his wallet and his keys. His computer bag was nowhere to be seen either.

Nick swore under his breath and wondered again what was going on here. It was clear that he was in deep trouble, but for the life of him—and maybe it was the throbbing pain in his head and the possible concussion—he couldn’t figure out why. The girl had said something about keeping his nose out of something. What though? His cases lately had been pretty tame right up until Hanover. Even that didn’t make sense though. The guy was crazy and all evidence had pointed to him acting alone…

Thinking too much made his head pound even harder, so he focused on what was in front of him. He needed to get out of here. Then he could figure out why someone had abducted him.

Standing was difficult and walking was horribly unsteady, but he managed to get to the door. One hand reached for the handle and slowly began to turn, but the knob refused to budge. “Fuck!” Nick swore and resisted the urge to kick the door. He didn’t want to attract any attention though. Wherever he was, he wasn’t going anywhere for the time being, and with that thought, the first bit of true panic began to seep around the pain and confusion.