by Amy Cross
“None taken. But if I need to get a message to you, how do I find you?” I ask. “I mean, if it's important? What if Matt needs to talk to you?”
“This isn't a conversation,” Duncan says. “It's just me passing a message along. After that, no more talking. Okay?”
“But if I need to find you,” I ask, “how do I do it?”
He stares at me for a moment. “You can't,” he says, and then he steps out into the corridor and pulls the door shut. I hurry over and open it again, but there's no sign of Duncan anywhere in the corridor.
***
I still have a couple of hours left before work, so I head down to the hotel bar and order some food. With the money I got from the club last night, I can afford a few indulgences like food and a drink here and there, but I need to start saving because this free hotel room is going to come to an end pretty damn soon. As I sit eating the sandwich, I try to work out how I can find somewhere to live in this damn city. I need a job, which I kind of have, and I need a really cheap room. But I don't know anyone, and rent prices are sky high. Maybe it's time to leave London? Get away from the high costs, and from the werewolves. Then again, at least I have a job here. It's not much, but it's a start. It's better than living on the streets, or going home.
I'm so wrapped up in my thoughts, at first I don't really notice the screaming in the distance. Frankly, living in London you kind of get used to people screaming a lot. People scream in the streets, and on the Tube, and in parks, and in shops, they just scream and shout constantly. But eventually, as I eat my sandwich and as the screams become louder and more voices join in, I find myself realizing that something's wrong somewhere in the hotel. Slowly I look up from my plate, just in time to see a couple of people racing across the hotel lobby with terrified, panicked looks on their faces. I immediately get this sinking feeling, because I know in my heart that this has to have something to do with the god-damned werewolves.
Sure enough, seconds later the glass door at the far end of the lobby shatters as a huge werewolf comes leaping through, barely stumbling as it races to the center of the room, where it stops to look around. It's a beast, bigger and darker than Duncan, and it immediately starts snarling as saliva drips from its jaws. The staff from the reception desk immediately run for the exit, and the guy behind the bar ducks down, his face going totally white. I hit the floor too, listening to try to work out where the wolf is, and I can soon hear it sniffing and coming closer. I remember what Duncan told me about wolves being able to smell one another across the city. This wolf must have picked up Duncan's scent here; it must be the wolf that's after him, the one that's behind the recent deaths.
I look around, hoping to find something I can use as a weapon. Damn it, why couldn't someone leave a handy machine gun taped under the table.
Suddenly I become aware that the sniffing sound has stopped. Did the wolf leave? After waiting a minute or two, I crawl behind the table and peer around into the lobby. The whole place seems empty, not a soul in sight, but something about this just feels far too easy. As I try to work out what's happening, I become aware of something behind me. Turning, I find the wolf staring straight at me, up close.
“Hi,” I say quietly, almost overcome by his horrific breath, which smells like a cross between fish and sewage.
He moves his face closer, and now I can feel him breathing on me.
Figuring that the only thing I have left is the element of surprise, I decide to do something he'd never, ever expect. So I move my face closer to his, closer to the putrid stench from his mouth, and I growl at him.
His eyes widen a little. There's a pause, and then he growls back at me, harder and louder.
A shiver goes down my spine, but I figure this is my only chance to escape. I vaguely remember watching a documentary about bears once, and hearing that if you try to face them down, they might become confused and suspicious, and they sometimes abandon their attack. I guess there's a chance this could work for a wolf, right?
I move my face right up against his, and I growl even louder, as loud as I can.
Without hesitating, he opens his mouth and roars straight into my face, spraying me with a fine mist of foul-smelling saliva. And while he has his mouth open so wide, I figure this is my chance so I grab a chair and ram it as hard as I can into his throat. I don't even stop to see what he does, because I race to my feet and run as fast as I can across the lobby. Before I'm even halfway, the wolf leaps past me, then turns to cut me off. Sliding to a halt on the polished floor, I spot an open elevator door and dive into it, jamming my hand onto the buttons.
I turn and see the doors close just as the wolf leaps at them. As the doors slide shut, there's a heavy thud on the other side, and then I feel the elevator starting to rise up the chamber with a shudder.
I look up at the level indicator and see that we're already at level 3 of the 15 level building. I hit the button for level 15, figuring I might as well get as far from the lobby as possible, but then I notice that I must have accidentally hit level 5 when I got into the elevator. At that moment, the elevator comes to a halt and the doors open onto the level 5 lobby.
Nothing.
Okay, that's good. I guess the wolf isn't following me at all.
Still, better to be safe...
I hit the button for level 15 again, and I stare out at the carpeted corridor, waiting for the doors to close. Should be any second.
Suddenly, at the end of the corridor, I see the wolf emerge from a stairwell. It sees me immediately and bolts toward me.
I hit the button for level 15 several times, and the doors finally start to close. Again, they slide shut just as the wolf leaps at them and the elevator starts to rise. So now I know, it's after me. And I'm not really sure that being in a small elevator heading to the top floor is the smartest move.
***
The elevator continues to rise until it reaches the top floor and the doors open. I stare out at the quiet, deserted corridor, and then I hit the button to head back down to the lobby. The doors slide shut and the elevator jolts a little as it starts to descend. I watch the light flash down through the numbers: 14, 13, 12, 11, 10...
There's a sudden violent bang and the elevator stops. I hear a noise above me and then what sounds like something landing on the top of the elevator. Looking across the roof, I see an access panel and soon I hear the sound of something sniffing about up there. I go to the elevator doors and manage to force them open, finding that we're a little way short of the next floor. Glancing up at the roof just as the access panel starts to move, I wriggle out of the elevator and out into the corridor.
As I glance back, I see the panel fall away and the wolf's face appears, staring down at me.
I run to the stairwell and head to my floor, running to my room but finding that the door's already open. Before I've even stepped inside, I can see that the whole room has been ripped apart. I back out and head along the corridor, making for the stairwell and running down several flights of steps until finally I reach the lobby. There seems to be no-one about, so I make for the door but at that moment I hear a sound behind me and I turn to find the wolf bounding down the stairs, its eyes fixed on me.
I turn and run for the door, but as I get there I pull up short as I see another wolf racing in. But this wolf I recognize: it's Duncan, and he leaps straight past me, almost knocking me down. Turning, I see the two wolves squaring off against one another. Duncan is clearly the smaller of the two, and he still seems to be carrying that limp. There's no way he can win a fight against this other wolf, the mismatch between them is blatant. But as I stare at them and try to think of a way to help, I swear I hear Duncan's voice in my head, telling me to run. But I can't run. I have to stay and help Duncan. I have to -
Suddenly Duncan roars back past me, smashing through the door and bolting outside, away from the hotel. Before I can react, the other wolf slams into me, knocking me to my feet as it races after Duncan. I'm left on the floor, helplessly watching them disappear. There's only
one thing I can do now. I have to find Matt DiMera.
Duncan
We fall together, landing at the bottom of the shaft in a bundle of fur and bones. The sound of breaking bones fills my ears, but it's not just my bones. We're both damaged. I lay there, panting in the dim light, and I look over at my enemy. He is as badly hurt as I am, and he is staring back at me. Broken bones are sticking out through his fur, covered in blood, and I have no doubt that I'm just as badly hurt. And now here we are, after all the fury, face to face but so badly hurt that neither of us has the energy to finish the other off.
Staring into his eyes, I can see that he would kill me if he could. And I'm sure he knows that I would do the same to him. And then, as we watch one another, a terrible realization creeps over me.
I know where this wolf came from!
He's the one who was left to guard the Lost Throne beneath the streets of London, the throne that leads to one of the few entrance down to the Underworld. Bricked up, left alone down there in the cold and the dark many years ago, he must have gone completely insane.
Slowly, he hauls his body around and starts to drag himself away. I guess he plans to track me down again when he's healed. I will have to find somewhere to hide, once again, while my wounds repair themselves. Twice now I've faced him down like this, and twice we've both lived to fight another day. The third time will be the last. The final battle will come soon. This can't carry on forever, with us endlessly fighting and healing, fighting and healing, fighting and healing. Plus, he almost killed Jess today, and although she's a human I'm starting to quite like her. Well, 'like' is a bit over the top, but for a human she's certainly almost likeable. And that, in itself, is something of an achievement.
I turn and drag myself away. Every movement is agony as my splintered bones tear at the inside of my body. I can feel that a trail of blood is slowly leaking from me as I move, but that's okay, I can live without all my blood. What I need, more than anything, is to find somewhere safe so that I can recover. And then I can go to the Lost Throne and finally bring this madness to an end.
Sometimes, I feel as if we werewolves are our own worst enemies. We do such horrific things to ourselves, and to one another.
Jess
I look everywhere, and still I can't find Matt DiMera. He's not in the pub where I met him, and the barman says he's never heard of him. He's not in the club. There's just no way of contacting him at all. It's as if he intentionally covered his tracks so that I'd not be able to find him when I need him. Still, he'll hear about the incident in the hotel soon, so I guess he'll at least know to start looking for me.
“You working tonight?” Rossiter asks, heading into the club just as I'm heading out.
“Can't!” I blurt out, rushing past.
“Make sure you're back tomorrow!” he shouts after me. “If you want to keep your job!”
I run across the road and around the corner, straight into Matt DiMera, who grabs hold of me to stop me from falling over. He winces with pain.
“I've been looking for you!” I shout, stepping back. “What the hell happened to you?”
Matt grins awkwardly. He can barely stand, unable to put weight on one of his legs, and he generally seems to be in pain. “I got hit by a car,” he says. “I was chasing some guy. Different case. Don't worry, I've seen a doctor. It's just really bad bruising”.
I nod. “Okay,” I say. “Did you hear what happened at the hotel?”
He shakes his head. “I know the place got trashed, so I'm kinda suspecting there was a wolf involved”.
“Two wolves,” I say. “I saw them. Both of them. Duncan and -”
“Impossible,” Matt interrupts. “There aren't two werewolves in London. There's just one. Duncan”.
“I saw them,” I say. “Duncan and a bigger one”.
“No,” says Matt, shaking his head.” Greystone monitors these things very carefully. We know the movements of every werewolf in the country, and there's only one in London right now”.
“You're wrong,” I say. “I've seen the other one. He was right up close to me, I looked him in the eye”.
“I appreciate your enthusiasm,” Matt says, “but you're wrong. Trust me, we'd know. You probably just panicked when Duncan attacked you, it's easy to do”.
“Fuck you,” I say. “I know what I saw”.
Matt opens his mouth to argue with me, but he seems to sense that there's no point. “Come on,” he says, “let's find somewhere to talk”.
We walk – well, I walk and he limps – to a small cafe, where we take a window seat and order some coffee.
“Tell me what this other wolf looked like,” Matt says. “Everything about him”.
“You believe me now?” I ask.
“Let's just say, like Alice I try to believe a few impossible things each day”.
I sigh. “The other wolf was big. And black. And his breath stank. It's like...” I try to think of a way to explain it. “When I've seen Duncan as a wolf, he always seems clean and noble, but this other wolf just seemed to be insane”.
“So you don't even know that the other one is a werewolf?” Matt says. “It could just be a wolf”.
“That's not what Duncan says,” I reply.
“You've spoken to him,” says Matt. “What did he tell you?”
I fidget in my seat, unsure whether I should tell Matt the whole story. “He told me that there's another werewolf in London. He told me that I have to tell you about it”.
“Me?” Matt says, laughing. “Old Duncan thinks you need to tell me? Well there you go, he's just using you to try to make me fall for his lies”.
I lean toward Matt. “I've seen the other wolf, okay? Really seen it, as clear as I can see you right now. Doesn't that count for anything?”
“Maybe,” Matt says. He seems lost in thought for a moment. “What I told you before, about there only being one werewolf in London...” He pauses, apparently not sure if he should tell me the truth. “It's kind of only half-true. There's only one werewolf in London, sure. But there's another one... below London. But there's no way... there's no way he could have made his way to the surface, I don't...” He stares into the distance for a moment. “I want you to meet someone,” he says finally. “And then I want you to come somewhere with me, okay?”
“Where?” I ask, swallowing hard.
Matt scowls for a moment. “First”, he says, sighing, “I want you to come and watch me embarrass myself”.
***
Somewhere in South London, next to an old train bridge, Matt parks his car and we get out. It looks like we're in the middle of nowhere, in a derelict part of the city where no-one would want to go. In the far distance, the gleaming metal skyscrapers of central London can be seen, but here – with red-bricked buildings and large, deserted areas of scrubland – this feels more like 'real' London. It's the London you don't show to tourists, the London that no-one bothered about. As Matt tells me, “it's the perfect place to hide something important, because no-one would ever think to look in a dump like this”.
We walk under the train bridge, toward what appears to be a porta-cabin. Matt fishes a set of keys from his pocket, glances around to make sure that there's no-one watching, then unlocks the porta-cabin door and pulls the door open.
“After you,” he says.
I peer inside, but it looks like nothing more than a little office, with a desk and a few bare shelves.
“Trust me,” Matt insists. “I know that saying 'trust me' isn't in itself particularly trustworthy, but... trust me”. He smiles. “Hey, it's all I've got”.
I step into the porta-cabin and Matt follows, pulling the door shut and locking it. Then, without saying anything, he goes to the far end of the porta-cabin and bends down, lifting open a door in the floor. I step forwards and see that a set of steps lead down underground.
“You'll be surprised,” Matt says. “There's a -”
“Matt, is that you?” calls a voice from down the steps. It's a woman's voic
e.
“That's her,” says Matt, looking a little frustrated. “Come on, you'd better meet her”.
He leads the way, walking down the steps, and I follow. We're soon in what seems to be a large library, with large oak bookshelves and plenty of desks. Some of the shelves on the wall have large leather books in them, while some have jars containing what looks like bones.
“Over here,” the female voice calls out.
Matt leads me around a corner, where we find a middle-aged woman hunched over a desk, peering at what seems to be a large, old book. She looks up, and I'm immediately struck by how beautiful she is, though not in a conventional way. She's certainly no stick-thin supermodel; she has a soft, feminine face and long black hair tied back in a ponytail. The only hint of make-up on her face is a thick line of black eye-shadow.
“Jess,” says Matt, “I want you to meet Olivia Thatcher, one of the world's foremost experts on -”
“Everything,” Olivia says, standing up and reaching out a hand for me to shake. “Or everything that Greystone needs to know about, at least”.
“You're part of Greystone?” I ask tentatively.
“I'm half of Greystone,” Olivia says, nodding in Matt's direction. “The smarter, more useful half”. She eyes Matt with a look of faint distaste. “You're hurt. What happened to you?”
“I was chasing Andrew Disraeli through a parking lot,” Matt says, “trying to stop him reaching his car. I wasn't entirely successful”.
Olivia shrugs and turns to me. “I don't often get visitors down here. What's so special about you?”
“I don't know,” I say, turning to Matt. “What's so special about me?”
“The pit,” says Matt, looking at Olivia. “If what Jess says is true, the pit has been breached and you-know-who has escaped”.
“I doubt it,” Olivia says sniffily. “The pit is walled in with -”
“Describe what you saw,” Matt says to me.