by D.J. Bodden
CHAPTER 26
“What are they doing here, Mordecai? You were supposed to take them to interrogation.”
“They have the journal with them. They’re turning it over freely.”
“Then take it from them and have someone dispose of them.” Bert said, turning his yellow eyes on Kieran. There were other werewolves and a small number of vampires in the room. They stopped what they were doing to watch the confrontation.
Mordecai curled his upper lip up in disgust. “They’re recruits, wolf. And you don’t give me orders.”
Bert shoved Mordecai in the chest, pushing him back two steps. He sneered and said, “Recruits? That one wouldn’t turn on our precious father if his life depended on it… and it does.” He grinned at Kieran, baring sharp teeth.
Jonas felt Mordecai preparing to lash out at Bert with his mind. But before he could, the big werewolf snarled and backhanded the vampire into a wall. Mordecai slumped to the floor, clutching his arm. “Don’t you dare use your tricks on me!” Bert said. Then he turned to Jonas and held out his hand. “Give me the journal, kid, or I’ll take it from your ashes.”
Jonas felt someone pull him back by the shoulder. Kieran stepped forward and said, “Have to go through me first, brother.”
“I thought you’d never ask,” Bert said, and swung for Kieran’s face.
Kieran caught his wrist and held it. “You can still go home, brother.”
Bert swung his other fist, but Kieran stepped inside the swing, still holding Bert’s wrist, and trapped his brother’s arm against his body.
“Heard you’d finally changed. Stronger now, but still unwilling to embrace the wolf inside,” Bert said, and head-butted him. Kieran ducked into it, then pushed his brother back.
“Father hasn’t expelled you. You can still come home.”
“And what? Watch you take over the pack, a weakling?”
“I’ve refused leadership. You can still take over for our father, in time.”
Bert spit on the ground. “That’s for our father. I have my own pack, now, and it’s—”
“Without his permission?” Kieran asked, his voice calm.
Bert laughed. “Are you simple, boy? Of course, I did it without—”
Kieran darted forward, reaching out as if he was going to touch his brother’s chest with the tips of his fingers. Instead, they sank in up to the knuckles. Then Kieran dropped to a knee, dragging Bert down with him. He wrapped his left arm around his older brother, as if to embrace him, and forced his hand deeper into Bert’s chest. Bert’s mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water.
“I’ll tell our mother that you died according to the old ways, brother,” Kieran said.
Jonas watched as Bert’s body shook. His veins, eyes, even the blood dripping from his mouth turned black, and he went still. Kieran pushed his brother back, and pulled his hand from the dead wolf’s chest. Jonas could see white fur and silver claws on Kieran’s right hand, dripping with black blood.
“That’s a…” Mordecai said, staring in shock. “My God, he was right. I never should have brought you here.” He coughed and groaned, still holding his broken arm.
“Come on,” Jonas said.
“Where?” Eve asked.
“Well, there are only two doors, and we’ve already been through one,” he said, and walked away.
Eve followed, and Kieran quickly fell in beside her, after wiping his hand on Bert’s suit.
“I didn’t know you could do a partial transformation or even change at will,” Jonas said, looking back at Kieran.
“I’ve been practicing.”
“Must have taken a lot of anger to do that,” Jonas guessed.
Kieran shrugged. “We hate most the sin we struggle hardest to resist.”
Jonas looked back at his friend. The werewolf’s face was blank, neither sad nor joyful.
I should spend more time talking to Kieran, he said to Eve.
His brother should have, Eve answered.
They walked through the berthing area unopposed, and the werewolves guarding the far door backed away, keeping their eyes on Kieran.
As they walked into the next room, several vampires with pins on their collars looked up from the map they’d been talking over.
“Hey, you’re not supposed to be in here!” one of them asked.
Jonas ignored him and looked around the room. It was smaller than the rest, filled with desks covered in maps, schematics, and stacks of papers. There were a few clerks on the right hand side, with even taller stacks of paper and flat screen monitors. The clerks didn’t look up, they just kept typing.
This must be the command room, Jonas told Eve.
She didn’t respond, just stared straight ahead with vacant eyes, hands by her side. Kieran was in the same state.
“Your attraction to pain is impressive, child,” Fangston said, walking forward from the back of the room. “Do you have the journal, or should I kill your friends now?”
“I have the journal,” Jonas said, reaching in and pulling it from his coat.
There was no humor in Fangston’s voice, no teasing or sarcasm. The demon was in full control. He walked forward, snatched the journal from Jonas’ hands, and started leafing through it.
“It’s in code. Do you know how to read this?”
“No,” Jonas said. He felt the demon scanning him, like talons scraping the surface of his mind.
“Then you’re of no use to me. I’ll have to rip the key from your mother’s mind, or your father’s if I have to.”
They’re alive, Jonas thought. And neither of them are cooperating with this thing. There was still a chance. He reached out and pulled Fangston into his mind.