by Ian Thomas
“Where?” he growled, realizing this was not a good time to relive memories of a friend in mortal danger. Especially when there were so many.
“I don’t have an exact sense of it,” Daniel replied. “Down, winding. There’s a room. She’s not alone. And she can do this. But there’s a terrible cost.”
“We gotta stop her,” Eddie said urgently.
Just then Chase and Hayley ran back into the destroyed lobby. “We have a problem.”
“The building shroud,” Chase said alarmed. “It’s coming down.”
“He broke the protections,” Rufus gasped. “They’ll fry.”
“Rowan won’t let that happen,” McLachlan replied. “But just ya know in the off chance that maybe she can’t stop him, we need people on the roof to hold them.”
“As in actually hold on to them? By hand?” Proctor said.
“Unless you have a random Wiccan up your sleeve who can cast a stronger spell, you’re gonna have to do this old school.”
“But–” Rufus started but Proctor cut him off.
“We’ll do what we can. May not be pretty but no ashtrays on my watch.”
“Coulda left that part out,” McLachlan said, wincing. But the War Wolf was already moving with the few he had with him. When Chase and Hayley went to follow, Eddie caught Chase’s arm.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“The roof,” Chase said, but Eddie was looking at Hayley.
“All hands,” Hayley replied. But when Eddie didn’t release him, she stepped forward. “It’s okay. I may or may not know a thing about keeping things under wraps.”
“A pun? Seriously?” he asked.
She went to kiss him, but he stopped her, releasing Chase’s arm only to put on her stomach. “Our first kiss isn’t gonna be marked by death.” Her words from a few days back. She smiled and put her arms around him. “Be safe.”
Unsure what they were going to achieve, the small group ran for the stairs.
“You still haven’t kissed her?” Rufus asked.
“Not the time,” Eddie replied, watching her go.
“Rufus,” McLachlan said, trying to corral his thoughts, “any idea where they are?”
“None. This place is a labyrinth.”
“I can track her,” Eddie said. “Proctor?”
“We’ll handle this. You go. End this.”
Eddie led the way, Rufus beside him, and Illyana close behind. McLachlan faltered, looking back.
“Daniel?”
But the ghost was gone.
XXXV
Thrown against the wall, Rowan felt something break.
“You’re no match,” Colton spat, clearly angry that she’d gotten the drop on him in the first place.
“Spare them!” Matteo said, stepping in front of them.
“Me included?” Ben asked.
“Was a time,” Matteo said, looking at his son one last time.
“End him,” Ben called to Colton, tilting his head back.
Matteo cried out as both fibula snapped, puncturing the skin and cloth. In one movement, Colton seized the bowl of quicksilver in one hand and sliced open Ben’s throat with the other, the bone knife opening a deep gash. Blood poured into the bowl, red swirling in with the silver as Colton started the ancient ritual.
Focusing her energy on the bowl, Rowan tore it from his hand. It flew back, liquids about to splatter when they froze in the air. Colton reached for bowl. Upon contact the fluids returned to the container and continued to swirl as he collected more of Ben’s blood.
“Gonna have to do better than that,” Colton said, before launching into the ritual again.
Little did he know that she was undoing his magic, casting spells to protect the vampires, numbing Matteo’s pain receptors, and healing herself in the process. He also had no idea that she was going to end this at any cost. She’d lost everything else, why not add her soul to the mix. First Daniel, then Michael, now her. Why not let Colton collect the set?
“Rowan,” Matteo gasped from the ground. “He’s not worth it.”
“Of course he’s not, but what about all those he’s killed, lives he’s ruined. Lives he will continue to ruin.”
“You can’t stop him,” Matteo said, his voice ragged with pain.
“Hell, I can’t.”
“Hell?” Colton asked, finishing one pass at the spell and before starting another. “Now we’re talking.”
Intently, Rowan felt a sense of his body, the spirits whispering to her. She felt his weight, his heart beat, the surge of air in and out of his lungs. He was merely a body in motion. Deeper she felt the rhythmic flow of blood in his veins, synapses firing, even the process of his blood oxygenating. All of his base functions right there.
Turn them off.
The thought grew like a shadow in her mind.
End him.
“Rowan?” Daniel called, appearing between them. “Stop this.”
“Get out of my head,” she seethed.
“Ooh, you brought a friend,” Colton called, but paid it little mind. Returning to the ritual, he dipped the siren knife into the bowl, halting the swirling liquid. Slowly, he reversed the flow of the liquid, rivulets of red and silver dancing up the blade.
“Daniel?!” Matteo reeled. She felt his shock and loss at seeing the ghost, like passing through the apparition and losing him all over again.
“This ends.”
“Rowan. Stop!”
The shadow laced her blood, slipping through her veins and into every cell. As she felt the fragility of Colton’s all too human frame, she felt strength in hers. Barely bridled, the power was immense. Seductive, raw, necessary.
“Matteo, stop her!” Daniel cried.
“Get out,” Rowan said, glaring at Matteo. With a thought hardly formed, Matteo’s legs healed. He cried in pain but it subsided quickly enough, another thought, nothing more. “You too.”
“Wai–” But Daniel was gone, blown apart by her anger.
Wrenching the bowl and knife from his hands, she held them beyond Colton’s grasp.
“What?!” he demanded furious.
“You’ve hurt people for too long. No more.”
Slowly and painfully, Rowan broke Colton. First his fingers, then arms and legs as he’d done Matteo. When she felt his ribcage and spine like toys in her hands, she marveled at how easy this was. Crush them. End him. So simple. So…right?
Then the feeling disappeared.
“I’m the chaos!” he spat. “Not you.”
Healing himself, he pushed his energy against her. She felt it like blackness, prickling her skin as he forced his hatred and will on her. Suddenly hot, her mind blanking, Rowan knew he was boiling her blood.
Angry, she willed silver to manifest in his bloodstream, the dark magic swirling around her. Then she heard them. The dead. Their voices cried out while others begged her continue. His victims. The sheer number threatened to overwhelm her, their pain sharp and violent.
Across the room, Colton screamed in agony, the silver heavy and poisonous in his veins. He’d die soon. And horribly too.
“Rowan!” Matteo shouted. He grabbed her shoulder but she cast him off, flinging him to the wall beside Ben. He rose and raced into her line of sight. “I’m not gonna lose you to my mistake.”
“Not your choice.”
“No, I made mine. And it was wrong.”
“Get out of my way. He dies. And he dies now.”
“And he wins,” Matteo said. “I lose you. You lose yourself in this nightmare. And he wins.”
“Where was this argument when McLachlan stabbed him? Don’t remember you doing this level of pleading then.”
Matteo staggered back, eyes wide. “B-because he’s not Wiccan. I thought you got that. You’re the good. You’re our strength.”
“Don’t lecture me on magic. I’m just putting things to right. Balancing out his wrong.”
“I not gonna let you sacrifice yourself for my failure.” Matteo reach
ed for the siren blade but she sent it skittering away from him.
“Listen to him,” Daniel said in her ear. She could almost feel his breath, warm and close. A prelude to a kiss. Aching, Rowan faltered. God, she missed him. Daniel had been hers. Broken and imperfect as he was, she had loved him fiercely. And he’d loved her. For her broken and imperfect ways all the same. “Row, please stop this. Not for me. Not for Matteo. But for you.”
“I need you,” Matteo pleaded. “I can’t lose you too.”
“Row! Please?”
The pain of feeling Daniel so close, so real, so uninvited, eclipsed the torture Colton was inflicting.
Drawing her spirit back, Rowan felt her wounds heal and the voices quieten. There had to be another way, she thought.
“There isn’t,” Colton spat, throwing a stream of fire at her.
Matteo caught the blast, skin and cloth aflame.
Spent, Rowan collapsed, the blackness escaping her. Beneath the sudden emptiness, she felt a strength present in her. A familiar strength, unrecognized but familiar. Her own, forceful and ready.
“She’s right,” Matteo said. “This ends now. I brought you into this world, I’ll send you from it.”
“Brave words for a dying man,” Colton said, hurling the knife at Matteo’s blistered, raw skin.
But the blade stopped. Midair, inches from him.
“How?”
“Really? I just kicked your ass?” Rowan said, the air crackling around her as she strained to protect Matteo. “So insulting.”
Snatching the blade from the air and staunching the pain with his anger, Matteo closed the distance between them and stabbed Colton in the chest.
Eyes wide in agony and shock, Colton jerked trying to pull himself off the blade. But Matteo held him fast. The siren’s touch starting to emaciate the man.
“Antal,” he spat through gritted teeth. “Falke. Guy. Kwame. Thomas. Dominic. Daniel. Michael. Somerset. Jason. You’ve taken too much from me. Now I reclaim them.”
Colton went to speak, but Matteo ripped the blade upward, through his throat and silencing him forever.
The shriveled body fell to the floor, dead.
“Is he…”
“Yes,” Daniel said, appearing between them.
“Ben?”
“Still here unfortunately,” came the gargled reply, his throat healing.
Cutting the last of his bloodline free, Matteo refused to look at Ben.
“Go. Like I said. Don’t look back.”
Silently, Ben studied Matteo as he cast his eyes downward. Then to Rowan, but she was fixed on Daniel. Without another word or action, Ben went for the door and pulled it open. McLachlan stood anxiously on the other side.
“Figures.”
“Fuck you too,” McLachlan replied, restraining Ben.
“Leave him,” Matteo said. “Let him pass.”
Not that McLachlan had a choice as Ben shoved past, one last moment of hostility and he was gone.
“Good thing he’s immortal,” McLachlan said, entering the room, Eddie and Illyana close behind. “Decades of therapy.”
“What were you thinking?!” Matteo demanded as McLachlan helped her to her feet.
“I wasn’t,” she bit back. “Okay. I just didn’t want him killing anyone else.”
“And you were gonna happily add yourself to his list?”
“And the point of this is?” Eddie asked, stepping between them. “Colton’s dead. That’s all that matters. And we’re not.”
“Are we sure he’s actually dead?” McLachlan asked, crouching by the corpse.
“Well it wasn’t by your hand, so I’m guessing yes,” Rowan replied.
“Too soon,” McLachlan said. “But I meant was it actually him? Like the real Colton? The legit asshole who duped us five years ago?”
“Yes,” Daniel replied, appearing.
“Oh, hey man,” McLachlan said, not looking up.
“It’s him,” Illyana croaked, Rowan having restored her voice.
“Like for real real?”
“Yes,” Matteo growled.
“Can we do a DNA sample? It’s just I would hate for him to come back and you end up feeling a failure much like I have the past week.”
“Is that a record?” Eddie asked. “We’ve been here less than five minutes and he’s made it about him.”
“Makes you almost miss, Ben.”
“Ouch! Harsh but fair.” McLachlan replied. “Sorry, just would appreciate him being fully, actually, totally, completely dead this time.”
Matteo clapped a hand on his friend’s back. “It’s over.”
“It really is,” Illyana sighed.
“They’re at peace,” Rowan said, slipping an arm around the siren. Between them they felt peace settle across the veil.
XXXVI
“Jaysus, not de onions!” James cried, sitting upright.
“And he’s back,” McLachlan said with a smile.
In their absence, the fallen wolves had mostly recovered. James being the last to wake. Around them people were rubbing their necks. The nerves, muscles, and tendons aching as they recovered.
“Onions?” McLachlan asked.
“Aw, it’s nothing. Shite, dat smarts.”
“If it helps, we won.”
“Aye, it does. Not as much as a whiskey, but we’ll get to dat soon enough.”
The War Wolves had started piecing the lobby back together, but it was going to take more than just sweeping up the rubble. Elegantly designed in art nouveau style, the hotel needed more care than they had presently.
“I’ll see to it,” Matteo said, standing with Proctor and Hale.
“Seems to me a Pack Lord without a pack is a contradiction in terms,” Blackthorne declared loudly.
“He has a pack,” Eddie said defensively.
“A heinous traitor and bunch of second generation pups does not a pack make.”
“So, what do you suggest?” Matteo asked, shock rippling through those listening.
“A vote,” Blackthorne said confidently. “We hold a summit and allow the packs to vote.”
“And ye think dat’d be you,” James spat angrily.
“It would be the wolf the packs chose.”
“Den it wouldn’t be you,” James replied. Quick as he could, Blackthorne raised a hand to James but Matteo stepped in and caught the wrist.
“I’ll agree to that, but I think we’ve had enough wolf on wolf action today.”
“Not what that means,” McLachlan muttered.
“No,” Proctor said quietly. All turned to look at the man. “There will be no vote. A summit perhaps. But not a vote.”
The lobby fell silent as he stood before Matteo.
“You have fought for these accords. You have turned the wolves from the wild. You have made mistakes but you’ve struggled long and hard to right those wrongs. You are the one true Pack Lord.”
Quietly, he took a knee and bowed his head. Eddie followed suit. As did the rest of the wolves save Blackthorne.
To show just how out of order the man was McLachlan, Rowan, Illyana, and Rufus knelt respectfully as well.
“What is the meaning of this?!” Gracchus called from the top of the staircase, Seth beside him.
“About that…” McLachlan said, as the group rose.
“Liam! James!” Blackthorne roared as Gracchus descended. The British wolf turned to leave. Liam dithered for a moment and then followed but James stayed put. “James!”
“He’s with us,” Matteo said, a hand on the young wolf’s shoulder.
“Matteo?” Gracchus said, now on the lobby floor. The wolves parted to allow him access to the Pack Lord. Around the banisters above, vampires waited and listened, unsettled by the scene below. Seth walked to Rufus and drew him into a hug, almost overcome with emotion.
“There was a plan to destroy your court, but we stopped it. The accords remain strong.”
“That is all I needed to hear, my friend.”
“An
d I’ll cover the damages.”
“That too.”
The two men shook hands warmly. Werewolf and vampire. Pack Lord and Court Regent. Peaceably and publicly showing honor and respect between their kinds.
Epilogue
This all started with a funeral, Rebecca thought, and now it ended with one.
Dusk had fallen over the cemetery following the ceremony. A large group of the Wiccan community present, a larger group of wolves grieving their fallen brother. Further back, hidden in mausoleums and crypts from the sun’s rays lingered vampires from Gracchus’ court, their presence a sign of respect for the tragedy and the accords.
While the funeral ran smoothly with solidarity being found in grief, Rebecca noticed strange looks cast at Jason throughout the eulogies.
“He shouldn’t have come,” she said to McLachlan as they headed back to the car.
“He’s a wolf now,” McLachlan replied. “He didn’t exactly have a choice.”
“Still,” she said, seeing the others approach. “They only see him as Colton’s heir. That’s rough.”
“I know,” McLachlan said.
“So…” Rowan said.
“So…” McLachlan replied. “Was nice to see Daniel again.”
“Everyone doing okay?” Matteo asked for the thousandth time in the space of two days. While she appreciated having him back to his old self, his insistence of spending time together had become somewhat smothering. He was only being protective. She knew that. She understood it completely, but there was something to be said for space to process, space to grieve, space to understand.
“I’m hugged out,” Rowan said
“Oh god, me too,” Eddie added, walking over with Hayley. “And I’m not a hugger. Not like McLachlan.”
“Me?!”
“You do hug a lot,” Rebecca said.
“Not as much as Matteo,” McLachlan protested.
“Yeah, but he’s such a good hugger,” Hayley replied. “You don’t seem to mind really.”
“He’s had five hundred years to perfect it!”
“But at least he’s put the effort in,” Rowan said. “I’m questioning your commitment.”