The Puppets and the Strings (A Werewolf's Saga Book 7)

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The Puppets and the Strings (A Werewolf's Saga Book 7) Page 9

by Michael Lampman


  “You must remind her to do what she is told. We need the numbers, not the blood.”

  He thought he understood. “I know she has been harsh with a few of them, but it has been unavoidable. They caused pain to her too.”

  “Of course they have.”

  She didn’t sound too sure about this. He didn’t know what to think, so he left it at that.

  “I will tell her, and I will tell all of them of your concerns. They will be prepared for him. They have the drug with them.” He was more sure of this than ever.

  Again, she obviously didn’t agree. “You know the drug will only work for a short time. It will not work until it is inside him. Until then, he is dangerous. He will see you coming from a million miles away.”

  He shook his head. “I thought you were handling that. If you can do what you say you can, it should not be a problem. He will be blinded until we show ourselves.” He felt he had to point this out, so he did.

  She only nodded through the hood. “I will do as I can. Sometimes, saying it is much harder than wishing for it to be.”

  He nodded. “We will do our part. All you have to do is yours.”

  She looked back up. “I will as per our agreement Martin—and only to that.”

  He accepted this. “Of course. I will let you know when we have him.”

  “Very well.”

  He watched her turn her head from him, so he turned, and headed back to the door. He left the room and closed the door behind him. I hope this works out. Without him, without this piece of the puzzle, the picture will not be complete. We need him for this to work.

  They did. They had to get this right, because if they don’t, they will have awoken the true death to all of them. Kalima will return, and that simple thought sent a sharp chill down his spine. So much so, he had to push it aside. Now was not the time for such foolish things.

  He knew of the black beast. He knew who he was. He knew firsthand what the monster could do. He lived through that too.

  We will get this right. I will make sure of it.

  He continued moving, went back down the small oval staircase to the first floor foyer, and headed back outside. There was so much more for him to do.

  He had to make sure that this all went smoothly. He couldn’t take the chance to get it wrong. As for El, he hoped he trust her. She was gifted too. He just didn’t have the choice in such things.

  15

  They rode all night. They reached Redford Forge a little towards dawn. They headed straight downtown, and found an old looking building just off the main street. Sasha was the only one that knew where they were going. She hadn’t been there for years. Back then, she went there with Brandon to pack up his stuff before they moved to the city after their wedding. He didn’t have much. Now returning to it, she felt rather disjointed. She didn’t expect herself coming there again. They were supposed to be together. They were supposed to be somewhere else. This wasn’t right in the least. She directed them to park in the parking lot at the back of the building.

  “He lives here?” Sharlia couldn’t believe how far he fell. Living in such a place, together with humans around him like they obviously were, and being the head of one of the great families too, it just boggled her mind. None of it felt right to her. It made her feel ill and sick to the stomach, if not more than that. He should have known that he was better than this.

  It did to Sasha too, but for many different reasons. She just hated him being there in the state he now was. The place looked the same as she remembered it. It was in bad shape. The paint had peeled off the wood years ago. His place was in the back of the building, almost hidden away from all of the life around it—around him. It just felt deserted and helpless. It felt alone. He felt alone.

  “Which place is his?” Robert looked out through the windshield from the back seat, sitting with Sharlia, and looked at the back of the building. It had two floors. Around the top floor, there was a wooden landing, which had several cats all over its railing. Knowing what he did about Brandon, the cats answered his question for him. They showed the way to go.

  “He’s there.” Sasha sat on the front passenger seat and looked at the wooden stairs. She thought only about what she was going to say to him. Through the years, she had so much she was going to, that she wanted to, but now, sitting there with it about to happen, she lost all of it. She could think of nothing but the last time she saw him. That was enough.

  He had been at his office in New York, downtown Manhattan, at the headquarters of the family corporation that ran all of their business ventures. He took his job seriously. He spent hours, if not days there at a time doing that job. For months prior to it, she had found herself beginning to hate him for it. He spent all of his time there. Days became nights. Nights became days. His free time became nothing at all. In the beginning, she had been proud of him for doing it, for being responsible, but he became relentless. He became arrogant. He became a total stranger to her. She went to see him to tell him how she felt.

  He was behind his desk on the top floor, going over paperwork. They were supposed to go out and have a date night, but like always, he had forgotten it. It was the fifteenth time that he did. When she went inside, he didn’t even notice that she was there.

  She had to speak first. “I thought we were going out tonight?”

  He didn’t even look up. “What was that?”

  “It was supposed to be our night. We planned it.”

  “Oh?” This time he did look up. Of course, he had to finish some writing before he could.

  He couldn’t even look her in the eyes.

  “Did you even hear me?”

  He shrugged. “I heard you.” He looked confused. “I’m sorry. I just got a little preoccupied.” He looked down to all of the paper over his desk. He had so much more to do.

  She shook her head. “What happened to us?” She now had tears in her eyes. Everything that happened—everything she felt, now started exploding inside her. It was just erupting to come out and show itself.

  “What are you talking about?” At least he finally dropped the pen. “We’re doing fine.” He truly didn’t understand any of this. He never did.

  “We are?” She laughed. “Since when are we doing fine?” She couldn’t believe how much he had changed. Now, he wore a suit every day. She couldn’t remember the last time she saw him in a simple t-shirt and jeans. She couldn’t remember the last time he would look in to her eyes. She couldn’t remember the last time they talked about them. She could no longer remember the last time he told her that he loved her. It had been long enough.

  He stood up. “You know that things have been busy. I have a lot of stuff to do during the day. It doesn’t do itself.”

  She remembered the anger he held in his voice.

  “Stop being so selfish,” he snapped.

  She heard him clearly, as she ever did.

  “I’m not being selfish Brandon.” She tried to look him in the eyes, but like always now, he looked down at his desk. He couldn’t bring himself to do it. He put his hands in to the side pocket of his very expensive trousers and kept them there. He no longer slumped at the shoulders. His hair was never out of place. “You are!” she screamed at him. Why he didn’t see it, she would never know. He just wouldn’t talk to her any more. He kept everything inside him. He kept away from her. He stayed within himself.

  He bowed his head further. “What do you want from me? I just don’t understand any of this.”

  She felt a single tear flow down her face. “That is your problem, and ours.” She knew what she had to do, and it was then, that she knew that it was time for him to know it too. “I don’t think this is working anymore Brandon. I think it’s time to go our separate ways.” She cried. Of course, she didn’t want to do this. She would do anything to keep from doing it, but she didn’t have the choice anymore. She couldn’t take it.

  Again, he never looked up. “If that is what you want than do it. I don’t have the time anymore fo
r this.” He turned and retook his chair behind his overly large oak desk. The large window behind him showed the tall buildings around them.

  She saw them. She saw the lights. She saw them twinkling through the tears.

  He went right back to the paper that was obviously far more important than she was. “I think we have nothing else left to say then.”

  She couldn’t believe how quickly he did that. It took no effort at all.

  She left, and they said nothing else to each other. The last fight always ended like that. Now sitting there, seeing the cats crawling along the railing in front of his apartment, she truly would have loved to do it all over again. Even the fights made them talk to each other. They did more than she ever thought they did.

  Sharlia looked to her driver. “Stay here. We will go inside alone.”

  He nodded without looking at her.

  She opened the door. “Well, I guess it’s time.” She stood out.

  Robert joined her from behind the driver. He moved around the hood.

  Sasha finally opened the door. She then finally moved.

  Sharlia watched her get out. “Are you sure about this, my lady? Rochie and I can go and see him. You can stay here if it makes it easier for you.” She watched her join them at the front of the car. She saw the fear in her young eyes. She saw the blankness on her face. She knew how she felt.

  Robert agreed. “You don’t have to go you know. We can do this, not you.”

  Sasha didn’t agree with them. “I’m fine.” She was. “Let’s do this.” She smiled.

  The two of them knew that it was a lie. But they also knew that she was right. She had to see him again.

  “Let’s go.” Sharlia led them up the stairs. Robert went second and Sasha was last. The cats, four of them, scattered when they reached the landing. Some of them growled, while the others hissed at them. Animals always feared the Walkers. They knew who and what they were. They always did.

  Sharlia knocked when she reached the door.

  Robert waited.

  Sasha took a deep breath.

  16

  Brandon had spent all night out. Living back in Redford Forge was nice. He could go out to the trees anytime he wanted. He could hunt. He could be free—something that living in a big city like New York could never give him. He liked that. He liked it a lot. What he loved more was that no one knew who he was. No one bowed to him. No one cared. He could be himself.

  Now home again, he took off his shoes. He undid his jeans, and removed his tattered shirt. He finally got to bed. It would be day soon and he needed to sleep. He lied down. He was about to doze off when he heard the knocking on his door. He didn’t want to but he did get back up.

  He staggered to the door. He opened it and nearly passed out by whom he saw.

  “Sharlia?”

  She slightly bowed, but inside her, she nearly fell over with just seeing him. His hair was streaked and looked unwashed for weeks. He had what looked like dried blood all over his lips and chin. He had what also looked like mud splattered all over his arms and hands. His eyes looked worse. They looked pale and dark. He didn’t look alive. He looked like half of what she remembered him as being. He looked worse than that.

  Robert saw the same things, and it made him stay quiet and still. He didn’t know what to say.

  Brandon saw him and felt ashamed. “Robert, what are you doing here?” He felt worse than that.

  He knew how far he had fallen. He knew how bad he looked. In the end, he thought he didn’t care, but the shame told him that he did. He did care what they thought of him. He still had something, he didn’t know what that was, but he knew it was bad.

  Robert looked down at the floor. Clothes were everywhere. What looked like trash of all sorts was also spread out over the clothes. The place looked like nothing short of a mess.

  Seeing his face, and his unwillingness to answer him, it made Brandon feel even worse.

  Sharlia knew she would have to speak for everyone, so she did. “We have come to speak with you my lord Brandon. May we come in?” She tried not to look him in his face, felt how awkward that was, so she looked back up. He deserved so much more than this.

  “I am no lord.” Brandon looked down, and stepped aside. He had nothing to give her, but at least to let them walk inside with him.

  She did.

  Robert followed her.

  Sasha now stepped to the doorway and stopped.

  Brandon saw her and this time, he felt himself blush. “Sasha?” He felt like crying. If his eyes weren’t as dry as they were, he had been up for several days, which even for a Nightwalker made them dry, he would have, so he didn’t.

  “Brandon.” She couldn’t look at him. She wanted to, but she just couldn’t do it, so she kept her eyes on the floor.

  He knew why. He too remembered that last time he saw her. She came to his office. She came in as angry as she ever had been, and immediately lit in to him about working late. It wasn’t the first time, but as it turned out, it was the last. What did she expect of him? He was thrown in to a world that he didn’t understand, just because he was made in to this vampire by a powerful one that led the family. He was forced to lead that family, and thus to lead a vast empire of wealth and property. He thought he was doing the right things. He thought he was making the right choices. He thought he had become the man that she wanted him to be. He was responsible. He was focused. In the end, he chased her away. He did everything that he didn’t want to do. It did nothing. She left him. She packed up her stuff and just left their home. She disappeared. She made her choice. What he was left with was what he was forced to do. He kept working, kept fighting, kept running things, but he just couldn’t do it—not without her. He was doing it for her. He did everything he could to make her proud of him, so when he was left alone, he was left with nothing. He didn’t intend to have the cats. He didn’t intend for that to happen, but what could he do about it. He couldn’t kill people, no matter how thirsty and hungry he was, so he had to do something. Hell, he didn’t kill them. He didn’t hurt them. He just wanted to be left alone. So he moved back to his place here. He moved in with the only things that wanted him around, and there he stayed. There he missed her more than he ever thought he would. And now, here she is, staring at his bare feet, and he didn’t know what to think next. He wanted it—he wanted her. He just didn’t know how to tell her how much he did.

  He stared her down.

  She kept her head down when she stepped inside, moved to Robert, and stopped behind him. She didn’t look at him once.

  Robert felt for both of them. He didn’t know what to do, so he just kept doing what he was and did nothing. He wasn’t wise about such things. He had never been in love with someone. He had never felt empty like they obviously did. He just didn’t know what to do. His sister didn’t count with this kind of love.

  Sharlia looked around his place and felt even more dreaded sadness for him. The place was an absolute mess. Dishes were everywhere. Clothes were everywhere. The smell was worse. The place was small, with only a small kitchen connected to what looked like a living room with only two other doors at the back of the kitchen. Being the size, being that she could see at least four cats sitting on the small counter to the right of the two doors, it reeked of urine—that wonderful deep ammonia smell that only a bunch of cats could create. With her enhanced sense of smell, it made her want to gag. It was just that strong. It almost made her lose her train of thought for why she was there. Thankfully, she came back to it in just the nick of time.

  “We are sorry for doing this to the two of you, but we needed to come here and ask you about something that you did several years ago.”

  He felt more ashamed than ever. “What could I possibly do for you?”

  She expected this from him. “We need to know what you did to the drug.” She kept this simple.

  Brandon heard her, didn’t turn to her, but did answer her. “What drug?” He kept his eyes focused on his wife. He didn’t eve
n see himself as he closed the door behind him.

  Sharlia sighed. “The drug the Gorhans used against Kalima. It did something to his ability to change. We need to know what you did with it.”

  Brandon stepped one-step to them but stayed at the door. As he stared at his wife, he thought about what she asked him, but couldn’t recall what happened. He just couldn’t remember.

  “I don’t know anything about any drug.” He watched her closely and forgot how beautiful she was. It was her red hair. It looked like fire when she let it down. He liked that. She had her hair short now. He didn’t like that. It made her look older. It made her look too neat.

  Again, Sharlia pushed, as her hands went to her hips. She didn’t know if he was telling her the truth or not, but she didn’t care. This was too important than this.

  Sasha heard her frustration, but she knew her husband better than anyone ever could. “The Ross Project Brandy, that drug.” She finally looked at him, and with it, she felt her heart skip a soft beat. He always did that to her and now she knew he always would.

  He saw it do it too. “Oh, that drug.” He even smiled at her. He couldn’t help himself.

  She returned it without knowing she did it too.

  Sharlia was thankful for the answer.

  Robert just smiled with the sight.

  “Do you remember what happened to it?” Sharlia stayed on the matter at hand.

  Brandon snapped himself back together again. “I destroyed what was left of it. Rachel took most of her information and got rid of it—what was left of the research; I put it in a safe place.”

  Sharlia wasn’t sure if she liked hearing about this. Just looking at him, just seeing him, she didn’t think he knew of such a place. “Where is it?”

  He turned to her and smiled. “It’s here with me.” He moved to the odd smelling sofa just across of the front door, passed Robert and headed to the kitchen just behind him, and went to the door on the left. He disappeared for a second, before returning again. He held a box in both hands in front of him. He set the box on to a small round table in the center of the kitchen. He then opened the box.

 

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