by P. S. Power
Instead of seeming upset by that, Tiffany nudged Sanchez gently on the arm. It caused the bag in his left hand to sway a bit.
“That… was the nicest David has ever been to me. Also, the most informative. We need to be careful.” That got a look, one which was knowing, to pass between the two agents.
A cool hand touched his bare arm, under the sleeve of his blue top, causing Liam to turn. The woman standing there was familiar to him, thankfully. Sondra, the vampire from a few nights before. She held a drink in her right hand, in a clear glass. It smelled sweet, and had bubbles in it, rather than being filled with blood.
“Master Liam! So good to see you. I have a gift for you. One for Tiffany as well.” She smirked a bit at the use of the name, then leaned in to explain. “As liaison to all of our groups, she’s given a special place. I shouldn’t call her by name, given that. We’ve been intimate, so I get to call her by her first name, even in public. It’s a bit naughty of me, don’t you think?” The woman still held his arm, the pressure firm, instead of stroking or being a light tap.
Meant to keep him from moving away. From behind her there was a rustling, as a tall man he didn't know, with very pale skin and black hair, rummaged through a basket. That was made of something like wood, though in thin strips, woven together finely enough to be strong seeming. After a moment the tall man, who must have been six-six or so, pressed a blue can toward Liam.
He took it, smiling and then nodded at Sondra. This gift would be from the vampires as a whole, not the man handing it over. Technically the woman should have done that for herself, given they were using werewolf rules that evening. Unless they weren’t or the woman had more information than he did. Being young and lacking resources was a real problem for him, he decided.
Not that there was any real way around that in the moment.
Without examining the can, which would be rude under the rules of the moment, he nodded at the woman, trying to make it seem warm.
“Thank you. I have something for you as well.” That was a loaf of bread. Expensive bread, that Tiffany had picked out for him. For her portion of things Brenner and Sanchez were delivering more meat. Not everyone was getting the same thing, however.
It would, hopefully, show that they’d put some thought into what to give each person.
Sondra took her gift, directly from his hand and smiled at him, touching him again, this time on the shoulder.
“I must go and see to greeting others now. We should make a date to speak at some length soon, Master Liam? It could be… Advantageous, I have to think.” She smiled at him in an odd fashion, as Brenner cleared her throat and stepped in.
“Not to be a pain, Sondra, but five months old. Stop hitting on him for at least another fifteen years or so.”
The words had half the room turning to see what was being discussed. Most of them seeming tense about the idea. Sondra just laughed.
“Oh, I didn’t mean it that way. Even if you are adorable. Don’t worry Tiffany. I’ll keep things to business. Now, I need to find… Nina Cabot, if I can.” She looked around the room, as if not finding the woman in question at all.
Interestingly, after Sondra walked away, Robert the elf came up to him, carrying a cloth wrapped bundle, along with a very small, youthful seeming girl. She moved to the front, her tiny hand reaching up toward his, to shake. A thing that, luckily, people had been doing around him, so he understood the idea well enough, in time. It was difficult to do, the woman actually taking one of his fingers instead of having her whole hand wrapped up. She was about half his size, the man behind her seeming like a giant by comparison. Given that they were both shorter than Liam was, he felt as if he were towering over her as well.
The rest of the room had to be worse that way, since he was close to being the smallest person there. It was himself, the two in front of him and Clarissa, who was off to the side, with her mother and father. Huddled together, as if for protection.
A thing they might need, given the glares some of the others were giving them.
“Doctor Liam! This is my great grandmother, Nina Cabot. Grandma, this is Liam Frankenstein. The man who helped save my life the other day.”
There was a nod from the very tiny, old woman. She looked no older than Robert and the man didn't seem any older than Liam did. At least from the few times he’d seen himself in a mirror or reflection.
“Very nice to meet you. I have a gift…” That meant getting Agent Sanchez to look over at him the man having wandered away with Brenner for some reason. Talking to a group of upset seeming people. The man wasn’t slow though, so had the correct gift for the small woman out by the time he moved over to them. That was handed to Liam first.
In this case it was a five-pound wheel of cheese. She took the thing, handing it back to Rob, who traded things around, so the cloth bundle, a thing which was colorful and well decorated with orange and yellow stitching, was presented to him.
Nina handed it to him, her face lighting up.
“It isn’t food. I did some digging and learned that your sort of person doesn’t need to eat much. It’s a shirt. I made it for you, with my own hands.” That the woman understood she was bending the rules a bit was clear.
Liam unfolded the thing, which was mainly blue, and seemed to be woven of strong materials. The pattern on it, the orange and yellow sewing, was intricate and lovely. It showed flowers and several kinds of fish. The sleeves were very large around and the cut of the thing reminded him of the scrubs he had on. In short, it was a thing that he could wear, which probably wouldn’t be true of a lot of different styles of clothing.
“Thank you! This is wonderful. I love the…” He pointed at the sew lines. “I don’t know the word for this drawing. It is very nice, though!” He meant it, since it was incredible to look at.
From behind him there was a voice. It was a different one this time, being that of a thin, rather tall and almost transparent woman. As in, he could make out the table along the wall behind her and the picture that was above it. Right through her body.
Much as he’d been doing, this woman whispered as well. It sounded far away, rather than like what he was doing. It held an echo, as well.
“I agree. The embroidery work is fine and skillful on a level that speaks of a true master’s hand. I failed to bring anything to give, myself. A matter of…” She reached out as if to run a hand over Liam’s arm. Instead it passed through it. She grinned at the whole thing.
Liam simply nodded, since not being able to touch solid objects would make it difficult to follow the gifting rule.
“Thank you for the gift of knowledge. Embroidery work. I will remember that in the future. I’m Liam. This is Nina Cabot of the elves and her grandson Robert Mobley. Over here is Agent Sanchez.”
Everyone there, except for the tall transparent woman looked at him as if he were being strange. No one spoke at all, until Sondra came over, along with her companion for the evening. It was the man who spoke.
“A shade is here. A ghost, some might call it. We are pleased to meet you ma’am.” He bowed then, which had the transparent woman waving at the fellow, happily.
“I’m Abbie. In life I was Vernon’s aunt, before I died. That was… Oh, forty years ago or so. I doubt that he’ll remember me. He was only a child back then. I heard that my great niece might be murdered today, so came to see if I could do anything about that. She deserves to die of old age or in a car accident, like I did.”
Liam nodded, even as most of the people gathering there seemed to be picking up that several of them were seeing things the rest didn’t.
The vampire man spoke to the room then.
“Abbie, the aunt of Vernon and great-aunt of Clarissa has attended this meeting to prevent death. We should heed her words.” Then the man stood back, as if his portion of things was finished.
Liam nodded, since it was about all he could do at the moment.
Interestingly, the ghost stayed by him, pointing things out that he might have missed, as things
progressed. Including some names of people in the werewolf community. They were at David’s house, but the meeting had been called from higher up, so he needed to go and greet the representative of the larger pack.
A man named Marcus, who was younger than David, though large and fierce seeming. He stood standing next to Mitchel, who smiled when Liam and Sanchez walked over, several presents in hand.
Abbie laughed a bit when the gifts were passed over.
“We’ll… he’s growing up nicely, isn’t he? Tell him that Abigail, his sister has come from beyond the grave to put her two cents in.”
Liam was about to do that when Mitchel took a deep breath.
“I… Well, I don’t want you to be shocked, Marcus, but it seems that we have a visitor from the other side here today. As announced. Abigail asks for me to let you know she’s here to place her two cents in. I hope that isn’t a shock to you?”
There was a soft growl then, from the werewolf.
“Likely tale, isn’t it? Dig up a dead relative then claim they showed up to stop justice from being done. That won’t work. It wouldn’t even if she were really here. I have my orders and mean to see them through.”
The words, instead of making the spirit annoyed, seemed to be humorous, at least she laughed, if a bit hollowly.
“Oh, I am so haunting his dreams later. I didn’t come all this way to be ignored. Not that you two fine gentlemen or our vampire friends haven’t done your part. What kind of person are you, if you don’t mind me asking, Liam? I recognize an Elemental of course. Air, obviously, since you can see me.” She seemed certain on that part of things.
Liam didn't really know how to answer, but didn't let himself stammer about it.
“Promethean.”
Which got a nod from the dead woman.
“Ah. That’s rare then, isn’t it? Here I figured that me crashing the party would be the strangest thing we saw this night. Good, then. Can I count on you two to stand with me? For me, really. I mean, if my own baby brother isn’t going to be bothered to save his great niece’s life. She slept with a boy. It happens. True a human, but that’s hardly grounds to kill anyone. It wasn’t her fault that things were found out by other groups.”
Mitchel winced and then sighed.
“No, it was mine. I should have kept my mouth shut and just helped Vern and Junie bury the body. I just didn't want to be bothered with a missing person like that, so called in Tiffany and Dan. Not that I’m taking responsibility for the whole mess or anything. There were a lot of people that did the wrong thing in this mess.”
Marcus looked annoyed, almost ready to strike out at Mitchel, his hand closing to make a fist. Instead of throwing a punch he growled again. Gently.
“Abbie better not be actually standing there. Not after going and dying when I was four like she did. Riding with that drunken fool was insane. What where you thinking?” The man looked at the right place, even if he couldn’t see his sister standing there.
Watching him closely.
“I was thinking that I needed a ride home and didn’t want to walk the nearly twenty miles in the dark. Okay, bad decision as it turned out. I hadn’t figured on us t-boning a pick-up truck at sixty miles per hour. I was sixteen, so what did you expect? Good planning on my part?”
Mitchel repeated what was said, as an upset seeming Marcus managed to find a decently large box and hand out gifts of his own. They weren’t large things, though the brown paper bag that was handed to Liam contained shelled Brazil nuts, which were his favorite food.
The man was given a larger portion of steak than David had, though of the same kind, which meant Brenner had to come over to pass that to him, and a small turkey from Liam. Several other people came over to pass the man things then, which sped up the whole process, since Sanchez was able to produce the last of the things in his bag. Then the man stepped back, moving over toward Brenner, since they were partners. It was tempting to go and join them, though interestingly, the ghost tried to touch his arm.
“I don’t think so, Liam. You’re standing for yourself and as a specifically invited guest here. That could mean a lot of different things, really. It could be a trap or a set up to attack you. Not that your name has been coming up with anyone around here other than as a new curiosity. Vernon certainly isn’t holding a grudge against you. Not even against the red-haired woman and her handsome friend. That means you’re here for something different and might not want to be lumped in with them. You brought your own gifts as well. You should stand about ten feet from them, facing Marcus directly.”
She led him to the right spot, which had a concerned Brenner looking over at them. At him, since she didn’t seem to be able to see the helpful ghost.
The head wolf held up both his hands then.
“We all know what happened here. A human man named Noah defiled young Clarissa. Vern took exception to that, as anyone might, and tried to kill the man, taking a hostage when that didn’t work and the human authorities stepped in. They didn’t press any charges under their rules and no one has asked that anything be done now over the matter. Is that right, Agent Brenner?”
Standing very straight, Tiffany nodded. Once and very firmly. It had been mentioned in the handwritten notebook to do things that way.
“It is.”
There was a nod from most of the room, as if saying that was correct. The right thing to do.
“You were not the person taken as a shield, however. This man, Liam, was. He fought back, using only the force needed to prevent his life from being taken. Do you wish to press a charge, Mr. Frankenstein?”
He stood straight as well, shaking his head, one time only.
“I do not. It was never an issue for me. I understand Vernon’s anger.”
For some reason about half the room chuckled at the idea. He didn't understand why at all.
There was a nod from the man, the werewolf Marcus.
“Very well then. I find that Vernon Hodler is not guilty and need not stand trial for his wrong doing, due to extenuating circumstances.”
There was a soft shifting and a smile from the man and his family, who were still standing to the side, their backs against a wooden wall that had been colored to a deep brown. It was slightly shiny and had large decorative squares on it.
Abbie, the ghost woman made a soft noise then, to get his attention.
“Now we get into the meat of it. Vern was never getting more than a slap on the hand for this anyway. Even if he’d been found guilty.”
She, it turned out, was correct about that. A moment later, Marcus went on.
“I was instructed to inform you that we will be holding a challenge culling for Clarissa Hodler today. This comes directly from Kurtis, our highest leader and alpha. The actions you took, Clarissa, directly exposed us to the scrutiny of outsiders. Not just the vampires and elementals, but also to the humans, which is considered a high crime.” He stopped, his face looking hard then.
Mean.
When he went on his voice held something of a growl to it.
“Those who would punish the girl and see her dead for her crimes, step forward.” Several of the werewolves in the room moved then. Not all of them by any means. Most of those that did so were middling in age. There were no children there at all, except for him. In the end seven people, five men and two women, collected in front of Marcus.
Abbie winced.
“That’s so screwed up. They’re going to beat her to death over this. Anyone trying to protect her will have to fight. Seven against one or two isn’t great odds. Anyone trying will probably die as well. Given that, it’s not very likely that anyone will step forward for her.”
A thing that, from the downcast looks being given by most of the people, was a known thing. Marcus just waved at the girl. She seemed so scared that her trembling was almost a physical thing, that could be felt from across the room they were in.
“Any who would stand for her?”
People shifted then. Slowly. Most of the
m moving away from her. Leaving her standing alone, with her parents. The girl, clearly afraid, pushed at them. Making them leave her there, alone.
“They’ll kill you… I’ll… It’s better this way.”
Abbie grimaced.
“Fucking hell! I don’t remember people being this cowardly back when I was alive, you know that, Liam?”
He didn't, of course. If people were different back then or not was impossible for him to tell without studying the matter first. Not that bravery actually mattered. Fear was a thing he’d felt, but at this moment, he was cold about the situation in front of him, mentally. It made sense that Clarissa wouldn’t wish for anyone to die for her. Her father was already injured and her mother, while perhaps as able as any of the others arrayed against them, was only one person. Clarissa was smaller than any of them.
He, however, had given his word to David to do what he could to see that justice was done, if it was inside of his ability to do so. Plus, it felt wrong to let someone die for simply making a mistake. One that anyone could have made, since she hadn’t had control over the situation in the first place.
Plus, he was a promethean, which meant that, unlike anyone else in the room, he would be very hard to kill. Well, Abbie the ghost would also be difficult to harm that way, but she didn't seem to be able to touch anyone, which could make it harder for her to protect her great-niece. She however had asked him to stand in her place, for the night.
He tilted his head though and spoke, out loud.
“They have to fight the protectors first? Is that open to anyone here?” He was speaking to Abigail, but was answered by Marcus.
“That’s… right. If you’re here, you can stand for her. They can go for her while you fight though, so she’ll have to protect herself as well.”
He thought for a second, then moved, walking across the room to stand in front of the girl. Not everyone saw it, but he was followed by a ghost. She stood next to him. After a silent half minute, he wasn’t alone any longer. David, the leader of the local wolves moved in beside him.
“I’m old enough. If I die, at least my last breath will be well spent.”