by Laura Hawks
Logan was stunned speechless for several moments. His father had always been fair and diplomatic when it came to his children, but he had not believed he could be this generous. Although both of his parents had been training him for several years, he had always assumed he would never be able to leave the Nether Realm except on excursions. Yet, now his father was telling him to go protect the woman he had cared deeply for.
Azamel seemed to understand his son’s quietness. “When I fell in love with your mother, I was told we couldn’t be together. It tore me up inside, but I did as I was commanded, because I had to. I don’t want that for you. If you love someone, nothing should prevent you from being together. However, son, do understand, you need to know about her and why she is running. You can’t protect her if you don’t know about her, no matter how much you love her. You need the knowledge to safeguard her appropriately, or you could lose her forever because you didn’t have the adequate information you needed to assist her.”
“When we find my sister, I will go to her, Dad. I will get all the answers to keep her safe.”
Trinity looked up when the Rougarou came into the room, heading straight for Nathan’s cage and Nathan himself. The young man tried to escape past the monster, but he was caught quickly and held immobile by the massive beast. Without a second thought, Nathan’s throat was slit.
A scream resounded throughout the room and it was only her throat crying out in protest. She realized she was the one making the shrill sound. She stopped screaming by putting her hand over her mouth, trying desperately not to gag as the sanguine liquid flowed from the slice along his jugular. Trinity had never seen or experienced anything such as someone being killed in front of her. She had never seen anyone die and she felt so sickened by the act, as well as helpless. She was only sixteen, for gods’ sake. Why would she be exposed to something like that? Why was she being exposed now?
She grabbed the bars in front of her. Her mouth opened again, but this time silent as she gaped in stunned surprised. She couldn’t understand why the creature, the Rougarou, just killed Nathan. No word, no explanation, no remorse.
Had he outlived his usefulness? Had he given them what they wanted? Or did they realize he would never betray whatever secret he carried which they clamored for?
Over the past few weeks, she had come to know Nathan. They had developed a bond of sorts. Mutual prisoners who have come to share in the experience and supported the other. In truth, he calmed her fears more than she did for him. He was the one who reassured her when she cried at night, missing her family. He was the one who got her talking about life in the Nether Realm with her family. She was careful, or at least she hoped she was, in making sure there was no relevant confidential information disclosed during their conversations. She hoped nothing she said could be used against her or her family, although she had never been in such a situation before, nor away from home, so she had no clue if what she was saying was harmful to her family or not. She could only hope.
Seeing Nathan be murdered in front of her was, therefore, a huge shock as well as loss. Her only companion, her only friend in this predicament she had been forced into, was suddenly taken from her.
The Rougarou turned to her and gave Trinity an evil smirk. He was holding the blade aloft, dripping with blood. He stood facing her, holding the slumped body of the youthful man with the other hand, as if waiting for her to say something, enjoying her reactions. She didn’t expect Nathan’s eyes to suddenly snap open, immediately trying to regain his footing. She hadn’t noticed moments prior: the blood flow had stopped and his wound had healed. So, Nathan was an immortal.
In one instant, she was happy, relieved Nathan would be okay. In the next, horrified as the Rougarou sliced his throat again, repeating the previous motion.
Trinity cried out, “No! No! Nathan! Stop it!”
Thrice more Nathan awoke momentarily, only to be immediately killed again and again. After the fifth time, the guard moved closer to her, dragging the still form of Nathan with him as if he were nothing more than a rag doll.
“Do you want this to end?”
“Yes. Gods, yes. Please, stop hurting him.”
“Will you be willing to do anything to prevent his continued, repeated death?” As if to make his point, he sliced Nathan’s throat just as he was becoming awake once more.
“Stop! Yes. Anything. Just stop. Please!” Trinity pleaded, her arms outstretched through the bars as if reaching for him to pull him to safety, despite that she was too far away to touch him.
Nodding, the wolfman snarled. “Know I’ll continue doing this if you go back on your word.”
“I won’t. I promise. What do you want? Just tell me what you want from me to stop hurting him!”
The Rougarou came over, his jowls were dripping with saliva, his fangs bared. His elongated black snout glistened with Nathan’s splattered blood.
“You will find it.”
Trinity was baffled. “Find what?”
“What your mother protected and thought destroyed. Somewhere, a small spark exists. He feels it. Not often, not strongly, but it’s there and with it, with just the small piece, he might find more. But even a small piece will be enough for him to succeed in his plans. He needs it and he needs you to find it.”
“I have no idea who or what you are talking about. I don’t know anything about what my mother might or might not have protected or what might or might not have been destroyed. Regardless, whatever it was or is, how would I even find it?”
True, Trinity knew how her parents met, same as her brother Logan, but like her sibling, she was unaware of what specifically her mother guarded. Regardless, Trinity wasn’t about to let this creature assume she knew what her mother protected and give any indication in aiding him against her parents.
Nathan groaned as he opened his eyes. He was aware the Rougarou was still in his cage, holding him by the back of his neck. Nathan struggled to get free and the swamp creature released him, the beast’s attention on Trinity. Nathan quickly scrambled to the far corner, huddling quietly, listening as the two spoke. He didn’t want to be noticed, didn’t wish to die again. It hurt each and every time. His soul, his spirit, bounced back and forth between his body and the ethos like some fricking bungee cord snapping after being pulled taut.
Trinity noticed him hunkered in the farthest reaches of the cage, almost cowering in fear of being assaulted once again. She wished she could go to him, put her arms around him, hold him, but she also realized she was keeping the creature busy and something was better than nothing.
“You will be trained. It’s inbred within your maternal line. It’s your calling. You just need to know how to sense it and that can be learned.”
“You make me sound like some dog sniffing out a scent. A bloodhound or something.” Trinity blanched as she realized who and what she was talking to. The Rougarou snarled, pouncing towards the bars Trinity was still clinging to, causing her to jump back.
The Rougarou laughed. An eerie sound coming from a wolf’s jowls.
“In a way, you’re a bloodhound and you’ll be used to find his desire.”
“And when I’ve found it? What happens to me then? To Nathan?”
“That’s not up to me. I follow orders just as you soon will.”
With those final words, he jumped towards Nathan, causing the young man to jerk away, bouncing against the bars at his back and side, startled and frightened. Nathan cried out, cringing as the massive Rougarou grabbed his arm and propelled him out of the room.
Trinity yelled, “Stop! No! You promised!” However, they were out the door without another word to her.
Once in the hall and away from sight and sound of Trinity’s prison, the Rougarou dropped his hand and lowered his head. “Did I do well, Master?” he asked in a reverent tone.
The form of Nathan shimmered and grew to that of a man. His shoulders became broader, his hips narrower. He was ripped, but lithe, wiry, yet strong. A mustache, beard and longer hair a
ppeared on him, when only moments ago a youthful countenance existed. His voice also changed to a deeper resonance.
“You did very well, Axiso, my pet. Retire to your room. I shall meet you in a bit.”
Coyote waited until the Rougarou left before heading to his office. There were a number of items he needed to prepare in order to train Trinity appropriately in finding the remnants of the Gem of Avarice.
Chapter 6
It had been weeks when Clarissa finally returned wearily to the house and headed up to her room. She wanted to check on Zenthus but she desperately needed a shower and some fresh clothes. After the first few days, Mel, Logan and Clarissa had decided to split up to cover more ground. Maurepas was a gloomy area and, even though there was sunlight, there was such a dense covering of cypress trees and vines it cast a gloom everywhere.
She searched for her daughter, questioned every beast she could find in the swampland. Clarissa ignored the stings of the bugs which constantly attacked her as she turned over every rock and stone in hopes of finding some inkling of where Trinity had been taken. She didn’t care how ruthless she was. Didn’t care she was creating a terror in her own right, with the wake of broken Rougarous she’d left behind in her quest.
Clarissa may not have had the ability to go to the human world but she was able to go to other realms, and her powers still worked. She may be older, but she continued to train, first with Mel, then in preparation for Logan to protect himself. She had just started to train Trinity. Clarissa berated herself for not starting general protection moves with her daughter sooner. It might have helped. Instead, Clarissa had considered her daughter safe with years of time before she came of age to start training. She wanted to protect her, not have Trinity aware of a world where evil lurked, preying on the innocent. Clarissa didn’t want Trinity to know of a place where someone would cause one so sweet and loving any kind of harm. Such a fool Clarissa was for thinking such a thing. She was such an idiot for believing she could protect her daughter from the evils of the universe.
Clarissa paused on the stairwell and hung her head, trying to overcome the feeling like being punched in the stomach so all the air left her lungs at the thought of her own foolishness at not training and protecting Trinity better. Clarissa had been stupidly naïve and she lost her family as a result. Why would she have thought Trinity would be even better shielded from the horrors and cruelty of the outside world, better than her parents and siblings were? Why couldn’t she have realized not instructing Trinity was so detrimental to her daughter’s preparedness for life? At least Clarissa’s father tried to equip her when she was old enough to understand. Of course, she didn’t have her powers yet, but her father made sure Clarissa was aware of some martial art techniques. She should have done the same for Trinity. Clarissa should have started teaching her from the moment she could stand and talk. Why? Why was she so blinded in not preparing her daughter better? Why did she think she had so much time she could waste it?
Pulling herself up, she continued to the room she shared with the demon judge and executioner. For the first time in a very long time she thought about the events of her family’s demise.
Clarissa was the baby of the family and the only daughter to the twelve brothers born before her. As a result, her parents let her get away with a bit more than they did her siblings.
The morning had started like every other, busy with cooking, cleaning and the mild arguments of those waiting impatiently for other family members to get out of the bathroom. She pictured in her mind the face of her brother, Johann, as he was that day, looking nervous and anxious as he prepared to tell his family the news. He was her favorite brother, despite being overprotective, who teased her mercilessly but was still there for her with whatever she needed. Whatever she desired, he would make sure she got it. He loved her dearly and she him, more than words could say. However, that particular morning she got very angry with him, a regret which stayed with her for a very long time.
Johann had told his family he and his new wife, Marinka, were going to move out of the family home. Clarissa was shocked and railed on him. How could he leave her? Why did he have to go and leave their residence? Oh sure, it wasn’t like he was departing the area they lived in, but still, they wouldn’t be there when she got up, nor went to bed at night. Also, his wife said none of the family could visit at their new place. Marinka didn’t like Clarissa’s family much, especially her. Marinka felt Clarissa and Johann were just a bit too close for siblings, a bit too affectionate. To this day, Clarissa missed the feeling of him around and protecting her.
She missed the way he would tease her, tell her what to wear and whom she could associate with. Most of all, she missed their discussions about everything imaginable.
Johann had made the declaration to everyone that crisp, bright, cold day. He didn’t even warn her alone, just announced to everyone they would be moving out at the end of the month. Family was only welcomed when they were specifically invited. Clarissa’s heart broke as she ran from the table in tears at the very thought. Johann found her outside, weeping softly. She clung to him as he approached her and begged him not to go. What was she to do without him in her life? How could he be so selfish as to desert them and listen to his wife, leaving his family, tradition and worst of all, abandoning her?
She shook her head now at how foolish she was, how young and greedy for his time and attention she had been. She pushed him away, yelled at him. Johann had reached out to her, told her he would always be there, but she didn’t listen. She didn’t care what he had to say at that point. Her heart ached. She was going to make sure he knew it and hurt him, too. She could never take the words back that she had thrown at him so harshly that morning.
Had she known then it would be the last conversation she had with him, she would have said so many things differently. Who knew her life would change just moments later that day?
As she remembered the chronology of events which took place, she whispered, “I’m so sorry, brother. I need and love you terribly and I miss you so much. I never meant any of the words I said. I was rash and young. I never should have said I hated you more than life itself and wished you were dead, when it was the farthest thing from the truth.”
Although she still could never undo the hurt she caused Johann as her last words rang in the still, cold, crisp air around them before she turned and ran off, she had since seen him to know all was forgiven.
As Clarissa stripped to head for the shower to wash up from the excursions into Maurepas Swamp, she thought about Johann. His last act was to save her as he sacrificed himself so she could get away.
There was nothing she wished she could undo more than those words she never, ever truly meant but instead were said in the heat of anger. How often had she replayed the day in her mind, trying to recall every little detail? Once Clarissa had run from the house, she hid in the woods for hours. Finally, she had calmed herself down enough to try and send a mental message to her family. She was still too upset at Johann and Marinka to see them at the moment but she wanted to go home. She tried to call out to her parents through her telepathy but there was no response. She had no idea what was happening, only a strong sense of unease settled around her, a desperation she needed to get back as quickly as possible. Why did no one answer her mental link?
Shifting into her wolf form, she began to run. She knew she was faster in this guise and her gut instincts told her she needed to get there as quickly as she could. She wanted to crawl into her papa’s lap and have Mama chastise Johann for his announcement earlier. Why weren’t her parents responding to her either? Why were they ignoring her mental calls? Was she maybe linking them incorrectly? Could werewolves send a message to the wrong head or get busy signals? She had never heard of such a thing but, then again, she really didn’t know for sure.
One more bend and she would be home. She shifted back to her natural human form; a coat wrapped tightly around her body as soon as she was able to materialize clothes on her other
wise naked figure.
She rounded the corner and came to a dead stop. She blinked, unsure she was actually seeing reality. The snow in the road was blood red as bodies were strewn about. Intermingled with the still figures of her young nieces and nephews were the bodies of wolves, their throats cut or their guts torn out and laid next to their bodies in a bloody pile matted with their fur. She was sickened and shocked by the sight. Tears streamed down her face as she ran, continuing to look for other members of her family. Surely they would be safe. It was important they were okay. They were her parents and her brothers. They just had to be alright.
She burst into the house; her brothers, more nephews and nieces, slaughtered, the floorboards forever stained with their sanguine liquid. She screamed in horror and in agony. Hearing some scuffling and other noises, she ran towards the sound which led her to the back yard. Once there, she saw her brothers Johann and Sebastian fighting five wolves. She stared in horror as the wolves took down Sebastian, tearing him to shreds with their teeth and claws, and he soon lay unmoving at Johann’s feet.
Johann saw her and she heard his desperate plea in her head. ‘Take my bike and run away. Never come back. Run and live!’
Wasting no more time, she ran to the shed where the motorcycle was kept. Just before she turned away from the grisly scene, she noticed Johann give her a very subtle nod, spin and run in the opposite direction. Johann knew full well the wolves would chase him and hopefully not notice her attempted bolt for freedom.
Johann swung at the wolves who were attacking him, trying desperately to keep them occupied so Clarissa could escape. She backed up slowly, wanting to flee the nightmare and not gain their attackers’ attentions, but it was too late. One of the wolves smelled her fear on the wind and turned towards her direction. Snarling, his fangs dripping with saliva and blood, he charged at her. She skidded slightly and then ran as fast as her feet would carry her.