Bloody Beginnings

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Bloody Beginnings Page 8

by Laura Hysell


  “You’re awfully quiet,” Mark murmured, pulling me from my contemplations.

  I sipped my coffee, trying to reorganize my thoughts. “Just thinking,” I replied. “How many werewolves are going to be here tonight?”

  Mark shrugged and glanced out the window toward the barn. “The whole pack will probably be here. Beth, Michael and probably Frank will be in cages, along with the guy from last night.”

  “What’s the story with that guy?”

  “He says his name is Leon and that he’s never had a pack. The guy claims he wants to be part of our pack, but Jed doesn’t like inducting new wolves this close to the full moon. Jed caged him last night until we make a decision. He likes to get to know new wolves as humans first. Plus the circumstances are just odd around how he found us, and there’s no doubt that he sought us out.”

  “The guy agreed to being caged?”

  “No,” Mark replied simply, still looking out the window. “We had to persuade him.”

  I remembered hearing wolves howling last night, and wondered about their method of persuasion. “So tonight the newer wolves get caged along with this Leon guy and everyone else runs around as a wolf?”

  Mark turned his head and looked beyond me, toward the hallway. I started as Jed answered my question before strolling into the room. “No, not everyone runs around as a wolf.” He looked pointedly at Mark before taking a seat across from me. “Mark, John and the twins will stay in human form tonight as a precaution. John will watch the caged wolves, and I’ll take the rest of the pack up into the mountains.”

  “You don’t just change here?” I asked, curious.

  Jed smiled in what I assumed was meant to be a friendly manner, but there was just something about him that scared me no matter how nice he appeared to be. He sat at ease in denim jeans and cowboy boots. Today he wore a black and gray flannel shirt with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. His dark eyes met mine as he spoke. “Normally we do just change here. I have a couple hundred acres of forest and that’s usually enough, but the whole pack is meeting tonight and we need a bigger hunting ground.”

  “How big is the pack?”

  Jed looked at me and I wondered if I shouldn’t have asked such a question. Maybe I was prying too much. I was surprised when he answered me. “There are currently 62 members of my pack, including those who aren’t active participants,” he added the last with a look at Mark. “My territory covers most of Oregon and the south end of Washington, but the majority of the pack lives within a few hours’ drive.”

  I wondered if 62 wolves was a large pack, but figured that might not be an appropriate question. Jed was answering my questions, but I didn’t want to push my limits with him. “What did you mean by ‘active participants’?” I asked. Mark shifted in his seat and I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye.

  “Active participants are those who join in for meetings, the full moon, and a variety of other things that come up with the pack. The inactive participants like to pretend they’re not wolves at all, living their lives as humans as much as possible. Most packs wouldn’t tolerate such behavior, and would simply kick the wolf out of the pack, making him a rogue wolf. Fortunately, I am much more understanding than most Alphas.” Jed smiled at me again, but I knew his speech was for Mark’s benefit by the way his eyes slid toward him. “I currently only have one inactive wolf.”

  Mark’s reluctance to talk about werewolves was starting to make sense. I wondered what had happened to pull Mark away from the pack. Mark shifted in his chair and glanced at me before quickly turning and staring out the window once more. His stance said loud and clear that he didn’t want to talk about it. Jed, on the other hand, seemed to be forthcoming with answers right now. I just wasn’t sure how much I should push and pry.

  I took another drink of coffee before turning back toward Jed, who seemed to be waiting on my questions. “What’s the difference between being a rogue wolf and being part of a pack?”

  “Protection, for one,” Jed replied. “As part of a pack we are sort of like a family. If one person has a problem, the whole pack works to help. This doesn’t just apply to wolf problems either, but also with the occasional human problem as well. Of course, that’s just my pack. Not all packs are the same. There are a lot of rules around packs, but suffice it to say wolves in a pack get extra benefits in general.”

  “So a rogue wolf doesn’t get pack protection?”

  Jed nodded his head and his eyes shifted quickly toward the window, and the barn beyond. “A pack is not just a group of werewolves. There’s more to it. Werewolves didn’t just burst into existence, and neither did vampires. Great magic long ago was involved in creating both species, and great magic surrounds us still. Unfortunately, we don't know as much as we'd like about the vampires. They guard their secrets as tightly as we guard our own.”

  I had a feeling he was still guarding a great many secrets, no matter that he seemed to be sharing information openly with me. I suspected I was only learning what I needed to know. Werewolf information was maybe limited, but I bet Jed would be open to spilling vampire secrets. “So what do we know about vampires? Mark explained a bit, like how to kill them. What I don’t understand is these weird dreams. How do they work? Can I get rid of them?”

  “You mean your strange connection to this vampire who invades your dreams?” Jed asked, and I nodded. Jed leaned back and was quiet for several moments before speaking. “We have our theories regarding that, but they are just theories. A vampire gives you his blood in some way and you develop a psychic bond, but it seems to be only temporary. The human gains healing abilities, again temporarily, and the vampire gains a servant to do his bidding. If the vampire gives the human his blood again, the bond deepens. The bond can also deepen if the vampire bites the human. Each physical connection with the vampire and the human increases the strength and duration of the bond. There are those humans around who have become almost vampires themselves, living for many years while remaining young looking. As long as they continue to drink vampire blood, they will continue to regenerate and therefore do not age like normal people.”

  “That’s disgusting,” I replied, wrinkling my nose.

  Jed laughed and I heard a chuckle emanate from Mark as well. “Well, humans have always been obsessed with a search for the fountain of youth. That’s how the vampire creation story goes. A young man obsessed with wanting eternal life sells his soul and becomes the first vampire. But this man didn’t just sell his soul; he also sold the soul of everyone he turns. If you’ve ever spent time with a vampire you’d know, they have no souls. They are pure evil.”

  “You really think that?” I asked.

  “Yes, I do. Sure, they can act the part of a human because they were human once, but it’s just that, an act.” Jed leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Remember that when dealing with vampires, Isabella. Everything they do is for their own benefit. They cannot be trusted. They don’t have morals like we do. They only think of thirst and power, and they will use humans in any way they can to achieve their goals.”

  My heart was thudding in my chest. “So how do I make sure they don’t pop up in my head again? I was worried about sleeping last night, thinking I’d go into one of those dreams again.”

  Jed shrugged and leaned back, an intense look in his eyes. “We don’t know. As I said before, vampires guard their secrets. I’ve heard various things over the years, but nothing more than rumor. No human linked to the world of vampires has shared its secrets. Maybe it’s the nature of the bond, a sort of symbiosis. On the other hand, maybe the vampire has bound the human so they are unable to speak of such things. We just don’t know, and there seem to be too many variables. Not all vampires are the same.”

  I thought about that while I finished my cup of coffee. Jed went back outside to finish preparations for the full moon and Mark wandered off to brood somewhere. Left alone, I had nothing to do but think. Jed had warned me against trusting vampires, but maybe I could bargain wit
h them. Of course, what would a vampire want or need, besides blood?

  My thoughts ran dark as I thought about sitting here surrounded by werewolves, day after day. With the exception of Mark, these wolves didn’t care about me and they certainly didn’t care about my brother. Justin had answers, I was sure of it. Not just that, he was family. And I would go to the ends of the earth for my family, even if it meant dealing with vampires. Unfortunately, I didn’t even know if this vampire, Patricia, knew where my brother was currently. Could she be trusted? Finding Justin, I decided, was worth the risk.

  Chapter 9

  I put my coffee mug away and decided to give myself a tour of the house. I wandered back through the first living room I’d been in and found another hallway. I passed a bathroom and a couple locked doors. The last door at the back of the house opened up to a huge room that looked like it had been taken straight out of a country-western bar. Along one wall were rows and rows of alcohol, with a long bar stretching the length of it. Several wooden tables were scattered around the room. Toward the back of the room were two pool tables, set up and ready for play. A small stage was in one corner with what I guessed was a dancing area in front of it. Moreover, the whole room was decorated with cowboy boots and antlers, including a huge antler rack chandelier right in the middle of the ceiling.

  I wandered through the room, noting the worn wooden floor. It truly looked like someone had uprooted their whole bar and placed it smack dab in the middle of this house. On the other hand, maybe the bar had been the original structure, and the house had been built around it. Either way, it was pretty impressive. I ran my hand across the bar, feeling the smooth polished wood. Werewolves, I decided, were very strange.

  I wandered back through the house and up the stairs, but just found several more bedrooms and a couple more locked doors. Probably one of the locked doors was Jed’s bedroom. Prying into an Alpha’s personal business would be a very bad idea, so I quickly moved away from the locked doors. I stopped back in my bedroom and peered out the window, which opened up to a partial view of the barn, a vast field, and forest beyond. It was a beautiful view, but it felt very isolated. I supposed werewolves liked living in the great outdoors, away from cities so they could roam free like their wolf cousins.

  I closed my bedroom door and lay down on my bed, closing my eyes. I took slow, deep breaths, debating the wisdom of what I was going to try. No werewolves were around to stop me. The house was, as far as I could tell, completely empty. “Patricia,” I said softly, trying to somehow reach out with my mind and contact the woman vampire. This was probably a stupid idea. “Patricia.”

  Again and again I said her name. I tried saying her name aloud and in my head. I tried picturing her as she had appeared in my dream. I even got up off the bed and spun around in circles, chanting her name. Nothing happened. No voice. No dream. Nothing.

  After about an hour of trying different things, I finally gave up. Maybe she couldn’t answer during the day. Maybe she couldn’t answer me at all. It was probably for the best that I hadn’t been able to reach her. Despite that, I’d probably try again later tonight. If it still didn’t work, I’d just have to think of another way to find my brother. I didn’t think I’d be able to sit around and wait for the werewolves to find him on their own. They weren’t motivated the way I was.

  I wandered back downstairs to the kitchen, but didn’t run into anyone. I was bored and didn’t want to turn on the television again. The last thing I wanted to do was dwell on the fact that I was a wanted fugitive. I opened up the back door off the kitchen and started walking toward the barn. There was a crisp autumn breeze, but the sun was shining down enough to keep me comfortable in my short-sleeved shirt. I examined my surroundings, seeing nothing but fields or forest in every direction. I had no idea where we were, since I’d been in a weird dream-coma when Mark had driven us here, but we were obviously far from any city.

  I approached the barn cautiously, peering around the corner before entering. The man from the other night, Leon, was sitting on a bed of hay in the second cage on the left. He lowered the book he’d been reading and looked up at me with yellow wolf eyes. I stared back at him for a beat before turning away. I glanced around the barn, but didn’t see anyone else. This strange man was not who I wanted to converse with, so I quickly backed away from the barn and ambled back toward the house. Instead of going inside, I walked around the outside of the house, ogling at its vastness.

  On the other side at the very back of the house was another door, which I guessed entered into the bar area. The door was locked, so I continued around. Several clotheslines were along the side of the house, already full of clothes. I’d also found Beth and Mark, who were chatting amicably as they hung damp clothes onto the lines. Beth giggled at something Mark said and patted him on the shoulder before she turned back to the laundry basket. Conversation suddenly ceased as I walked toward them. Mark turned and smiled at me, his eyes a soft brown and his demeanor seeming relaxed. Beth looked up at me and I watched the smile that had been on her face slip away. The new expression on her face was blank, but I felt an underlying menace there.

  “I wondered where everyone went,” I said, reaching toward the laundry basket to help.

  Beth snagged the basket away before I could touch it, and I straightened up immediately. “You’ll make the clothes smell,” Beth snapped before turning and carrying the basket to another line of clothes, her short brown hair whipping fiercely in the wind. What did that mean? I smell?

  Mark put his hand around my shoulder and steered me toward a side door in the house. We entered a large laundry room, which Mark quickly hurried me through into the hallway I’d explored earlier. I remembered checking the door to this room earlier, but it had been locked then. He closed the door behind us and turned toward me, grinning. “Sorry about that. Beth is very particular about the clothes having only wolf scent on them, especially right after the full moon. She washes them in a special scent-free detergent and then line dries them so the scents on them are more natural. Even Mirabelle isn’t allowed to handle them. Don’t take it personally.”

  Okay, that’s different. I shrugged and walked down the hallway toward the bar, Mark following on my heels. “Does Beth live here?” I asked, trying to keep my voice even. I moved around the bar and looked at the various bottles of alcohol. The bar was fully stocked with more varieties of alcohol than I even knew existed.

  “Yeah, she takes care of the house. Since Jed’s wife died four years ago Beth has become the caretaker of the house.”

  “So, are they a couple?” I asked, confused.

  He shook his head and settled onto one of the bar stools, leaning his elbows on the counter. “No, it’s not like that. Think of her as a live-in housekeeper. Jed provides her with a safe place to live and pays her to keep the house in order. She also makes most of the meals and does the laundry.”

  I found a small refrigerator with soda and juices in it, and grabbed some orange juice, deciding to make myself a screwdriver. I didn’t really know much about mixed drinks, but you couldn’t really mess up vodka and orange juice. I grabbed a glass and mixed up the drink before sitting down at the bar beside Mark. He looked at my drink, but didn’t comment on it despite the early hour.

  “So she’s been here for four years?” I asked and Mark nodded. “I thought she was a new wolf? Didn’t you say the new wolves stayed caged until they could handle running around?”

  Mark ran his hand through his hair and I groaned internally, watching his eyes dart around the room as though he was struggling to come up with a story for me. I drained my drink and stood up to get another. I must not have made the drink strong enough, because I hadn’t even felt the telltale alcohol burn.

  “New wolves do stay caged,” Mark replied as soon as I had turned my back on him.

  I rolled my eyes and quickly made another drink, this time adding some rum and pineapple juice. I took a drink before turning to face Mark, trying to keep calm. “If you’re not
going to answer my questions honestly, I’ll just go ask Jed. He seems to have no problem answering my questions.”

  “I didn’t lie to you,” Mark retorted angrily. “Why are you drinking so early?”

  I felt my anger boiling at his remark, and his avoidance of my question once again. “Oh, you never lie outright. You just skirt the truth, or change the subject, like you did just now.” I paused to take a drink and attempt to calm myself down again. I was irritable and Mark was pushing my buttons with his evasiveness. “Why do you keep avoiding my questions?” I asked.

  Mark closed his eyes and took several slow, deep breaths. I waited for him to calm down, restraining the urge to tap my fingers on the counter impatiently. He finally opened his eyes and looked at me. “Beth isn’t a new wolf, but she has issues controlling her wolf, so she chooses to stay caged. It’s sort of a touchy subject, so please don’t ask anyone else about it, especially Beth.”

  “Why didn’t you just say that to begin with?”

  “There are… reasons. It’s too much to get into right now. Please, just drop it.”

  “Fine,” I snapped, draining my drink and pouring myself another, this time with less juice and considerably more alcohol.

  Mark put his hand on my arm, restraining me from taking another drink. “Are you all right? Did I do something?”

  “I’m just peachy.” I pulled my hand away from Mark and drained my third drink. What was with these drinks? Shouldn’t I be getting at least a little tipsy by now? Was there actually alcohol in these bottles? I sniffed the rum. Yes, that smelled like rum. I put the vodka and rum away and started sorting through the different alcohols. I found a bottle of whiskey and grabbed a shot glass. It may taste gross, but I should be able to feel something.

  “Izzy,” Mark murmured quietly as I poured a shot and quickly downed it without looking up at him. It burned going down and I gasped for air for a couple seconds. That was disgusting, but at least I could feel the burn. I poured another, quickly drinking it as well. Then another. After five shots like that I finally stopped and looked up at Mark. Concern etched his face, but he wisely held his tongue.

 

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