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“They're getting stronger and more vivid by the day...” Alice said, her voice strained and tired. “It's almost as if our minds are becoming one. I can hear her thoughts, feel her feelings.”
The intense vision had taken its toll on both Alice's mind and body, leaving her feeling completely exhausted. She sat back in her chair next to her companion who kept his eyes on the road, the campervan cruising down a new stretch of highway.
“Do you think she's doing this to you?” Matty asked, his own tone sounding slightly agitated by his inability to help her.
Alice shook her head, resting her weakened arms in her lap. “No. It's far too personal to be her own choice; she isn't exactly someone who likes to share with others.”
Katherine wasn't the type to open up to someone and was far more interested in dissecting other people's minds than leaving her own vulnerable. That wasn't unusual for a vampire, their social backstabbing leading to extreme paranoia and trust issues more often than not. Amongst their kind, Alice and Matty were a rare and unusual breed, with both of them trusting each other implicitly. They often shared their hopes, their dreams and practically every little detail of their lives. It was a true partnership where they both knew almost everything that there was to know about each other without feelings of judgement, envy or remorse. Despite their own personal issues, they had somehow managed to form a surprisingly healthy relationship against all odds. The same couldn't be said for their relationship with Katherine, or lack thereof.
“I need to know what she found in the manor.” Alice thought out loud. She had already told Matty everything that she had seen. “The vision was trying to show me something, but I'm not yet sure what it was”
“I'm sure you'll find out in time.” Matty tried to reassure her. “You haven't mastered your powers yet, but you will.”
Alice appreciated what he was trying to do, but she wasn't entirely convinced. “I hope so…”
The dreams seemed to have a mind of their own, showing Alice what they wanted at their own pace, with her having little control over which direction they took her. Before, it had been as if she were a fly on the wall watching the events unfold, but now she was witnessing it all from Katherine's own eyes. She couldn't control anything that the woman said or did, but she heard her voice as if it were her own and could feel everything around her as if it were her own body coming into contact with it.
The whole experience was surreal to say the least, and there was no sign of how far it would take her. Alice was growing concerned that one day she wouldn't be able to distinguish between her own memories and those that belonged to Katherine. As strange as it sounded, they were already beginning to feel as though they had been her own all along.
Turning her attention to the world outside, Alice looked out at the road ahead of them, the dotted white line almost mesmerising as it sped by. “How far away from New York are we?” She wondered, sounding a little dazed.
“We should get there tomorrow night.” Matty replied, glancing over at her for a brief moment. “But we'll need to stop somewhere in Jersey until dusk.”
Alice turned her head to look at him, studying the rough lines of his face. “Do you think Nathalie will actually help us?”
There was a short pause before he spoke again, the words taking a while to form in his head. “She's part of our bloodline. If Katherine's killing off all her children, then Nathalie will be on that list too.” He furrowed his brow in concentration. “She's got to see that the only way we can survive is by banding together.”
“Unless she's already sided with Katherine…” Alice added with an underlying pessimism in her voice.
Matty shrugged. “From what you told me about her, I doubt she's taken any sides.”
“I suppose we'll find out soon enough.” Alice surmised as she looked back out towards the road again. Between losing Sam and the visions that were beginning to overwhelm her, she had too much to think about already and was having trouble concentrating on anything else. “Let's just hope that you're right.”
Chapter Six: The Lion’s Pride
As the small convoy made its way south along the highway, it began to dwindle in number. Where at first there were two cars and a truck, only the lead vehicle remained. Vincent continued the journey in his old station wagon as the rest of the pack veered off under his command. He wouldn't let Sam out of his sight, forcing him to sit in the front passenger seat with only his seat belt to hold him in place.
The arrogant wolf didn't believe that his prisoner would attempt an escape, and he wasn't wrong. Sam knew that he couldn't outrun them, as he had already tried to do that in the woods and had failed. He had no way to call for help either, his phone smashed to pieces and discarded through an open window. Three shapeshifters were more than enough to chase him down, with the other two sitting within arms reach in the back of the car.
The woman that Sam had seen in the woods, the one known as Rahna, seemed to be Vincent's second in command. She had placed herself directly behind him, her eyes boring holes into the back of his skull for the entire ride so far. Next to her sat a younger looking male with olive skin and light brown hair, although his appearance likely didn't match his actual age, a side effect of the vampiric curse.
All three of them were now fully clothed in mismatching outfits with no care for style, having gotten dressed shortly before their departure. Fortunately, that meant that Sam was spared any further embarrassment, as he didn't feel comfortable around nudity and never had.
It had taken two nights of driving to close in on Vincent's newest targets, a woman who he referred to as the ‘Old Queen’, and her loyal guard, the 'Lion Knight'. From what Sam could work out by listening in on their conversation, the knight was a man named Philippe Chevalier, and Vincent called him brother. He didn't know if that meant that he was an actual blood relative or just someone who his captor had once been close with. Either way, it didn't matter, as there was no escaping the situation or the confrontation that awaited them. From Sam's own brief history with the pack, it was clear to him that they were prone to violence and were unlikely to negotiate.
The wolves were a rowdy bunch, joking loudly with each other and constantly laughing about things that Sam didn't understand. It was a side of them that he hadn't expected to see after how aggressive and serious they had been when they first met. However, any time that he tried to speak or join in with their antics, he was struck by Rahna who yelled at him and demanded that he remained silent. The moment Sam complied, she would jump back into the conversation and continue right where they left off. Vincent never stepped in, seemingly unconcerned with the welfare of his captive. The frequency of the attacks did appear to lessen over time, mostly due to the fact that Sam learned to keep to himself.
The pack had stopped to feed on two separate occasions along the way, not bothering to offer Sam any sustenance. There was an underlying savagery to their feeding, one that set them apart as vicious hunters while all three of them fed on the same human in an almost frenzy-like state. It was an act that resulted in their prey's death more often than not, and none of them ever showed any remorse for what they had done; whereas Sam was used to the care that Alice and Matty took, leaving their victims alive instead of in a bloody mess on a sidewalk.
Despite the wild manner in which the wolves fed, it was clear to see that they were holding back. They were driving through towns and keeping to main roads, which meant that they had to take greater care to hide who and what they were. They weren't chasing game through the woods now, the beasts inside of them caged for the time being, although there was no telling how long that would last.
The car eventually pulled into the parking lot of a strip mall that sat on the outskirts of a small town. It was a quaint location, nestled between open farmland and the banks of the Mississippi River, the type of place where locals were friendly and everyone knew each other's business. It was the sort of town that closed early, its inhabitants already tuc
ked up in their beds.
Another truck waited for the group there, a large, barrel chested man sitting on its tailgate, stroking his beard. Only Vincent got out to meet him, the pair embracing as if they were old friends. A short conversation later and he returned, the other man getting into his vehicle and driving off without another word.
“They're here.” Vincent grumbled as he slammed the car door behind him, placing his hands back on the wheel. “Get ready. They won't be happy to see us.”
Rahna pulled a revolver out from underneath her red leather jacket, checking to make sure that its chambers were fully loaded before sliding it back out of sight. “Grizz came through as always.”
“You won't find a better tracker.” Vincent nodded in agreement.
The younger wolf stayed silent, staring out of the window as Vincent put the car into drive and set off towards the town itself. Sam could sense how nervous he was, the most inexperienced member of the group visibly anxious at the thought of facing the fallen queen and her loyal knight. It seemed that the pair's reputation was well known to the group, the anticipation of facing them causing cracks to show in the tough exterior of Rahna who shifted uncomfortably in her seat.
Vincent was the only one who didn't appear to be fazed at all. The thought of coming face to face with his brother didn't seem to affect him, confirming Sam's suspicions that he wasn't someone who was afraid of much at all. Perhaps he wasn't afraid of anything.
It didn't take the group long to locate the queen and her knight, neither of them blending in all that well. Vincent led the way with the others in tow, leaving Sam with the feeling that he was being taken along for the ride. Where they went, he had to follow and that meant that he would be in deep trouble should the situation turn sour.
The group walked out in the open without any attempt to hide themselves as they made their way down an empty street with rows of little stores that were closed up for the night. The town centre was practically dead with all the locals fast asleep in their homes, but that didn't stop the creatures of the night from going about their business.
Sir Philippe Chevalier certainly looked out of place in his surroundings, his attire not designed to fit in with the aesthetics of a quiet country town. He wore an old trench coat that almost hid the tailored suit underneath, his white shirt wrinkled and stained. The impressively tall man tied his long blond hair back into a ponytail, his hauntingly blue eyes almost sparkling in the night. Something about the way they caught the light reminded Sam of Christie, her own eyes having once been bright like sapphires.
The queen stood by the handsome knight's side, her face completely obscured by a white mask whose features had faded over time, the surface cracked and barely holding together. The blank expression of her doll-like face gave Sam the creeps, the hollow eyes staring deep into his soul. A black cloak rested upon her shoulders, covering the plain linen dress that she wore beneath. The cloak's hood was pulled up over her head, her dark brown hair poking out from around its edges. Where the queen had likely once appeared regal, she now looked like a broken woman who refused to let go of the past.
As soon as Philippe saw the wolves approaching, he stepped forwards to stand between the aggressors and his queen, his slim body positioned to protect her from harm. He reached for the hilt of a blade that protruded from beneath his coat, the golden pommel forged into the shape of a ruby eyed lion. It wasn't a common sort of weapon, far from it in fact, as the masterwork sword was crafted from the finest materials that money could buy.
Philippe's eyes narrowed, his words as sharp as the blade that he carried. “Vincent… Ça fait longtemps, dis donc!” His French accent was thick and heavy, the meaning behind his words a mystery to Sam who had never studied the language. Whatever the man had said, he certainly wasn't pleased to see his sibling. “I should cut you down where you stand!”
“Brother...” Vincent growled, stopping suddenly as he kept a good distance between him and his quarry. “You have every right to be angry.”
The unexpected behaviour took Sam by surprise as he almost bumped into his captor, the other two members of their group managing to stay behind him as they followed their alpha's lead. They were well practiced at reading Vincent's body language and knew when to fall in line, their pack mentality instinctively kicking in.
Philippe almost spat. “I am far more than just angry, ‘brother’.” He wasn't exactly endearing in his use of the word. “I am absolutely furious! You betrayed me... You betrayed our queen!”
“Tell me something I don't know!” Vincent replied dismissively before lowering his head with slight submission and changing his tone. “I know that I wronged you, but our dispute will have to wait. I require your assistance.”
Staring his brother straight in the eyes, a wide smile appeared upon Philippe's noble features. He was clearly amused by his brother's choice of words. “Katherine. Dis-moi, c'est une vraie salope, n'est-ce pas? She is more trouble than she is worth.”
Vincent bared his fangs, almost mirroring his brother’s smile in a more hostile looking grimace. “I couldn't agree more… She’s out of control.”
Sam watched in silence, his head swirling in confusion. So Vincent wasn't planning to take him to Katherine after all. If that was the case, then what did he want from him? If the alpha wolf wasn't one of the Blood Queen's lackeys, then his motives were still in question. Perhaps he was planning on switching sides. Sam realised that it might just mean that they had something in common and that there was a possibility of them becoming allies, depending on how the current situation played out that is. This newfound information didn't mean that the man could be trusted, but it did mean that Sam might not be in as dire a situation as he had originally been led to believe.
Too deep in thought to pay attention, Sam was lost in his own little world and oblivious to what was going on until Rahna nudged him harshly. She muttered something that he didn't quite catch, her tone indicating her displeasure. He wasn't sure whether he missed something important or if she had noticed him drifting off, but he made sure to stay alert from now on.
Rahna wasn't the only one who was annoyed, but at least Sir Chevalier's feelings were directed towards his brother instead. “Brûle en l’enfer!” The smile faded from his face, any vague attempt at pleasantries quickly replaced by a scowl. “I warned you not to trust her, but you chose not to listen. I have no sympathy for you, traitor!”
Vincent didn't rise to the challenge, his gruff exterior instead starting to relax and become something closer akin to human than the beast inside. “I'm listening now. Please, Brother… Don't make me beg.”
It looked as though the pleading was falling on deaf ears as Philippe became increasingly riled up. “T'es rien qu'un petit connard! Why should we even consider lending a hand?” He gestured angrily, his arms animated as he spoke. “The immortals of Calgary tossed us out like we were filth! You all deserve everything that she has done to you and so much more!”
“That's enough, Philippe! Do you forget how your brother served me loyally for many years?” A delicate hand rested on the knight's arm, causing him to stop his ranting and step aside. He lowered his head with respect to his queen as she stepped past him, speaking with an authority of days gone by. “We can forgive a moment's weakness can we not?” Her voice was regal and wise, her tone pleasant, yet commanding.
“Of course, ma reine. Your will is my duty.” Philippe bowed at the waist, moving to stand by her side. He glared at each of the others in turn, his eyes untrusting and full of judgement.
The queen's mask was blank and expressionless as she continued, barely muffling her voice as she addressed her once loyal subject. “It's most agreeable to see you again, my friend; despite the circumstances that bring you to me...”
With only a moment's hesitation, Vincent dropped to one knee, his eyes looking to the queen's feet as he begged for her forgiveness. “I don't deserve your mercy. I betrayed you willingly and have since been made to pay for those sins.”
>
Rahna gripped Sam tightly by the arm, letting him know that he should remain silent and reminding him of the punishment should he fail to obey her. He didn't even try to argue, knowing full well that this was all beyond his level of understanding. Vampire society as a whole was still very much a mystery to him and he hadn't taken the time to study it. Perhaps this would be the motivation that he needed to do so.
Taking a moment to examine the man kneeling before her, the queen addressed him in the same manner as she would one of her subjects. “Your transgressions haven't gone unnoticed, Vincent, but I can't bring myself to despise you for them.”
Remaining on one knee, Vincent kept his eyes averted as he spoke. His voice was filled with a level of respect that Sam had never expected to hear from the man. “I beg for your forgiveness, my queen.”
The masked face looked down upon him without emotion, the voice emanating from it much warmer in comparison. “I'm no longer your queen, Vincent.”
“I know, Renita, but old habits die hard.” He glanced over at his brother with a knowing look, the gesture returned with a scowl from Philippe.
The queen reached out to the long haired wolf, offering a gloved hand. “Stand up, my friend. You need not kneel before me.”
Vincent rose on steady feet, taking her hand as gently as he possibly could. Even this beast of a man had his courtesies, seeming to still care for the woman despite his former betrayal. Sam could now see how much taller he was than the queen that he had knelt before, his height equally matched by that of his brother.
Both Vincent and Phillipe looked so similar, yet so different. One was dark haired and brown eyed, the other blond with piercing blue. Where Vincent was close to the beast and revelled in it, Philippe distanced himself by choice, carrying himself with the air of a nobleman. They were two sides of the same coin, a clear example of two very different ways in which a vampire could exist.
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