by Alana Melos
“It’s him,” Adira insisted, sounding like the broken record she was. “I know it. The other vampires who’ve bitten him… they know it too. They feel it.”
“His scent is wrong, Adira,” Freyja said. She’d all but lost the accent she’d come into this dimension with, determined to fit in. The pack as a whole had made a few missteps which landed a few of them in the Citadel, the metahuman prison, but overall they’d adapted well to Earth Prime.
“His body was changed, but he’s still there,” Adira said, gesturing with her left hand, her dominant one, which was now down to two fingers. The two left curled and the gesture looked like she was pointing, or would have been if she had her index finger still. Damn. People lost a lot of themselves around me.
Freyja shook her head, the braids which surrounded her square face bouncing with the motion. “I said no,” she repeated, in a harsher tone. “There’s few of us left. I won’t risk the rest of us with an unknown contagion… or an unknown wolf.”
“He’s there,” Adira repeated, frustrated. Her eyes softened. For the second time tonight, I saw vulnerability in her, and my heart squeezed at the sight of it. She was practically begging, and she shouldn’t have been. Strong, proud, and confident, seeing the vampire like this made me wince. Showing weakness was one thing you couldn’t do. Not here. Not with so many powerful people around.
“You, sister,” Freyja said, jerking her head to look at me. “You’re a telepath. What say you?”
The focus thrown on me, I shifted my stance and crossed my arms. “He’s not the same,” I told her. “Something… somewhere in him remembers me. I couldn’t say for the rest of you. But it’s… a whisper of a memory. Hardly anything there at all.”
“And did he attack you?” Freyja pressed.
Glancing to Adira, whose face closed off into a neutral mask, I looked back to the werewolf leader. “Yeah.” I didn’t tell her how close it had been to me being dragged off into the forest by my hair instead of the other way around. There wasn’t any need to tarnish my rep.
She looked to Adira again. “No.” She paused, and a flitter of discomfort floated across her mind. “I have to expel him from the pack. He’s dead to us.”
Pain raced across Adira’s face. Her threads writhed in flashing colors, from crimson hurt to dark betrayal to the softer pinks and oranges I translated as compassion and caring. She loved Rory, more than the rest of the pack. Freyja’s pronouncement had cut her, deep. “If you remove him from the pack, I will leave also,” she said, her voice even though she screamed inside. The vampire knew she wouldn’t back down.
“Adira, don’t--” I said, but Freyja cut me off.
“So be it,” the short werewolf said. She upnodded to the wolves standing nearby, who had stood there in tense silence. “She has ten minutes to remove him and herself from the building. After that, kill on sight.”
“Damn,” I swore looking back and forth between the two of them who’d been thick as thieves only a few seconds ago. I didn’t know what else to say. The thoughts and feelings flowed around me. While I caught most of them, they made no sense to me. Hurt and betrayal stained Freyja’s thoughts as well, mirroring each other.
“Let us go,” Adira said, sounding distant but formal. “I will take him. There’s a place nearby. If you can take some of his clothing?”
“Yeah, sure,” I said, stunned by the events which had unfolded in front of me. The other wolves, Viktor included, slunk away and cleared a path, though they kept a watchful eye on the both of us. When Adira walked into Rory’s room, I followed.
What the hell was that? I asked her telepathically. I don’t understand what just happened.
She moved Rory’s sleeping body to grab the blanket underneath him and wrapped him in it. It’s the law of the pack, that our Master laid down, she replied. There’s only room for the strong here. The sick and maimed…. She glanced down at her mauled hand and curled it into a fist. The sick and the maimed are killed or expelled.
The strong survive while the weak get crushed underfoot, I sent, understanding it. It was something I’d said often, but it had never been applied to me or those I associated with before. Applied like this… it felt wrong. The thought of it sent a bubbling sense of unease through me. Was I developing morals now? Nauseous, I busied myself by grabbing an empty duffle bag and throwing anything loose I saw into it. It didn’t take long as there wasn’t much here to grab.
Where? I asked her.
I don’t know, she admitted. I didn’t expect this to happen.
Groaning, I indicated for her to exit. We didn’t have much time left, and I really didn’t want to be in the middle of a werewolf-vampire smackdown. Upon reaching the outside, I pulled out my phone and searched for the closest, cheapest motel. You owe me for this, I snarled at her mentally. Big time. I’m not anyone’s god damn cab.
Though the vampire still harbored resentment towards me, the wave of my irritation wiped that away and she ducked her head. I know, she replied. Other thoughts swarmed around her, that she didn’t expect this to happen, that the most important thing was getting him to a place of safety, that she’d given up almost everything for him, but she didn’t push one of those thoughts forward to me. Thank you.
You owe me, I sent as I grabbed her and Rory telekinetically, and pushed us into the air. It wasn’t too far away, but carting people around all day had exhausted me, drained my resources bit by bit until I was running on empty. Carting three people over a few city blocks used the very last. When I landed in the parking lot of the Red Swallow Motel, I dropped the duffle unceremoniously on the pavement.
“Cash,” I demanded, holding my hand out.
Adira shook her head, still holding Rory in a fireman’s carry for ease of transport. “I don’t have any.”
My left eye twitched as red hot rage boiled through me. Normally, I’d embrace it. This wasn’t the time or the place. I might have felt sorry for her, but this became above and beyond the call of duty even for that. I forced the heat under the blanket of not-feeling-much, and took a deep breath. “Wait. Here.”
I turned and stomped through the parking lot to the office. This wasn’t a good place, but that didn’t concern me. She just needed a warm place to get Rory situated while she figured out what to do next. I had to keep reminding myself they were new to Prime and basically had been squatting. In Axis, they’d gone wherever they wanted, done whatever they wanted. This sort of skulking and hiding out wasn’t among her knowledge.
The smell in the office was horrible, but at least it felt warm. The overweight clerk behind the desk took one look at me and began shaking his head. “No,” he said.
I reached into my inside pocket and pulled out a roll of cash. You never traveled without cash, not in this city. “Two nights, no disturbances, and as much privacy as this shithole can manage, how much?”
His watery eyes looked at the bloodstained roll--that happened, almost by damn osmosis sometimes I thought--then up to me and my shredded leather trench and armor beneath it. “I ain’t messing with no vigilantes,” he sputtered.
“I’m not a vigilante,” I said, my lip curling up in a sneer. “I’m a villain, I’m not staying here, and I’ve had a shitty fucking day. How much? And make it reasonable before I decide to make this place really red.”
“I don’t want no trouble,” he repeated, his sallow skin paling. A quick look at his threads told me greed and fear warred within. The fear sent gratification through me, but I didn’t have time for this.
“No trouble,” I said. “But you better make up your mind fast, my patience is running out.” I hefted the roll again and undid the rubber band on it to let the money expand, showing him how much there was in it.
“Two grand,” he said, licking his lips as he shook. “One for the motel, one for me.”
I peeled off one and handed it to him. “You’ll get yours the second night,” I said. “‘Cause I may not be staying here, but I’ll be back.” As I handed the cash over through
the barred window, I leaned in. “When I mean no disturbances, it’s for your safety, not mine. Just don’t. No maids. No knocks. No phone calls. Don’t put anyone next door, and I was never here.”
He got this sulky look on his face then, but made the money disappear quick enough. “You gotta fill out--”
“Fill it out yourself and give me the damn key,” I told him as the left side of my face twitched again. The urge to just take what I wanted held me fast, but the cooler part prevailed. That wasn’t how that worked here, and as much as I liked killing, leaving a trail of insignificant bodies behind would do more harm than good… no matter how much I wanted to split him open. It wasn’t smart, nor good business.
The clerk did as he was told, shutting his fat mouth in what appeared to be a rare, wise decision. I kept looking at his threads, sifting through them. He knew not to call the cops, which wouldn’t have done him any good anyway. I didn’t think either of them were wanted, and they both had fake ident cards thanks to the Doc’s paper guy. I think I’d intimidated him enough that they’d be safe for at least a night. Greed would ensure it.
“There you go,” he said, tossing the key card packet in the metal pan.
“Where’s the closest place to get a burner phone?” I asked.
“Across the street, at the recharge station,” he said, pointing.
“Thanks,” I said, giving him a nod before turning to walk out stiffly. I glanced at the key, noted the number, then tossed a plastic key to Adira as I walked across the street. Another transaction later, and I was back on the way to the motel. The inside of the room was all I expected: red everywhere, with the truly terrible tacky landscape pictures all motels had. There had to have been a warehouse full of those things somewhere. The room was on the end of the motel, so they’d only have one neighbor if the guy ignored my warning. A single king sized bed dominated the room with a black and red coverlet, sunken in the middle. Adira had already situated Rory on it, still sleeping.
“I can’t keep him sleeping forever,” I said. “I have to get to my place, rest, eat, recover.”
“I’ve a solution to that,” she said. “But I have to go get it. Will you watch him?”
“Do I really have a choice?” I asked, my voice snide. She gave me a cool look, but the tiniest bit of hurt danced deep in her eyes. I relented and sat down in a wooden chair hard. “I’m tired, and… I’m sorry. This has been a fucked night.”
“I will be as fast as I can,” she said, her voice warming a touch. The vampire walked to me, then knelt so that I looked down at her. “Thank you, Caprice. What you’ve done means much.”
“You owe me,” I repeated, shifting in my seat. “I’ll call it in sometime.”
“I do owe you,” Adira said, her voice soft. “It will be repaid.” She put her hands on my thighs, and I raised my brows as the energy in the room shifted. Just that fast, my libido kicked in as the awareness of how she’d positioned herself reminded me of the threesome we’d had. I focused on her left hand instead, pushing away the want for sex which always lurked under the surface. The crescent shaped scar left her with barely a hand, and no signs of all of it growing back.
“Not like that,” I said, keeping my voice hushed. I reached down and traced the scar. She winced, and tried to pull it away. Grabbing it, I pulled her up to her feet as I stood. Looking into her dark brown eyes, I only barely saw the rime of red around her irises. “Not like that,” I repeated.
She let out a sigh, then leaned and kissed me on the cheek. “Thank you,” she said. “This has been a trying night.”
“Full of ups and downs,” I agreed, squeezing her maimed hand in what I hoped was a friendly manner.
“Axis… was so much easier,” she said. “I knew my position. I reveled in it. We were in control, in command. Here… here I am adrift.” The vampire looked into my eyes, her gaze steady as if she were willing me to understand. “We have too much freedom. There’s no clear leader, no plan. All we have is each other, and now, I do not even have that.”
“You have Rory,” I said, searching through the threads of her emotions. This was the first time I’d seen her so uncertain, so hesitant. This vulnerability made her open to me in a way I’d never experienced before with anyone, even though I could see their every thought. That she chose to show me this softer side confused and staggered me. This was not the Adira I knew. This wasn’t the brash vampiress who draped herself on Nazferatu’s arm, who’d laughed at my audacity to challenge them, who’d gave me grudging respect when I won. This was something deeper and truer, all the more intense that she chose to share with me her fragility.
“Maybe,” she conceded. “Let me find what I need. I will be back.”
I let go of her hand. She stepped back, her eyes still locked on mine. “Good luck,” I said, resisting the urge to swallow hard.
There, she smiled. “You make your own luck,” she said.
With that, she disappeared. I couldn’t argue with that logic. If a plan had to rely on luck, it wasn’t a plan at all. You either could pull it off or you couldn’t. I chased that thought down, pushing away the feelings which our exchange had brought to the surface. I didn’t want them, and when that thought came to me, I laughed. I spent most of my time chasing other people’s emotions, just to feel something other than what I did. Now that I was? I didn’t want them.
Never said I made sense, folks.
Now that Rory had been rescued, there had to be another step to the plan, which would be fixing him. I sat down on the edge of the bed beside him. His face smoothed with sleep, he really was quite handsome, if rough around the edges. The green skin didn’t detract from that at all. Days of growth graced his jaw, on the point of being a real beard. I combed my fingers through his hair, snagging out debris and dirt as I did until he looked almost presentable. His hair wasn’t quite all the dark forest green, but had patches of black in there. Out of curiosity, I opened his mouth and saw the same patchwork mottled pink and green on the inside. He wasn’t turned all the way… which begged the question: what was the plant turning him into? And, now that he was apart from the tree, would it continue?
I sat there for I don’t know how long, trying to look at his threads. I didn’t sense much of Rory, nor of the plant. The landscape inside his head looked desolate and empty, as if with my command to sleep, he’d retreated into the furthest part of himself. Something stirred at the edge of his consciousness, but only to keep a wary eye on the invader. When I pushed, he retreated. Not wanting to stir anything up, I eventually let go and stood up. I had to get some energy into me.
Hitting up the vending machine, I got a couple sodas and few candy bars. I downed them all in the motel room. As I finished the last one, Adira entered the room holding a plain brown bag, and a lot of heavy chains. “Find what you need?” I asked, leaving the trash on the end table.
She nodded as she closed the door. “Aconite,” she said, clarifying a second later, “Wolfsbane.”
“What does it do?” Watching her from my chair, I shifted around so I could see what she was doing better.
Adira looked around and snatched up one of those plastic wrapped glasses as she dumped the chains on the bed. “It’s a poison for werewolves,” she said. “Too much and he’ll die… but while it’s in his system, it should prevent him from shifting into his wolf form. It may even keep him unconscious.” The uncertain timbre of her voice told me she didn’t know if it would work since he was changed.
She went into the bathroom and I heard the water running, along with an exclamation of disgust for the color of it. “That’s Imperial City for you,” I muttered as I stood up and sorted through the chains. Louder I said, “It’s got to be some kind of genetic change. It--the tree, I mean--was in him, and I think it still is.” I found some manacles and started with his feet, securing them to the bed and testing the movement, not allowing him a lot of it. “Maybe his human form is closer to what he was before.” He’d been susceptible to my suggestion to sleep after all
. Right now I maintained that suggestion, but as soon as I let up, he began to stir. My will was the only thing keeping him unconscious.
The vampire returned and sat near his head, stroking his hair after she set down her concoction on the table. “Thank you,” she said.
“You’re welcome,” I said one more time. We finished chaining him, then she tipped his head back, and opened his mouth. “There might be better ways to administer that, you know.”
“Perhaps,” she said. “But we have none available to us, right now. This is just a temporary thing anyway.” Now that we had found the wolf, Adira’s confidence in bringing him back to himself was unshakable. It was all she had, after all. “Help me with this.”
I ended up holding his mouth open while she carefully administered the mixture in dribs and drabs. Annoyed by doing this grunt work, I tapped my foot impatiently while Adira poisoned Rory. When she felt he had enough, she looked to me. “Release him.”
“Your funeral,” I muttered, but did as she asked. He woke up slowly, coughing and hacking, then a low moan came from him. When he opened his eyes, the lids didn’t want to go open all the way, giving him a sleepy, tousled look. The plant-wolf grunted and struggled, but not for long.
“I may have overdid it,” Adira said. “But his heart is pounding fiercely. He’ll work through the excess shortly.” She watched, her dark eyes intense, riveted to him as he breathed heavily and coughed. “Can you fix him?” she asked, catching me off guard.
“Fix him?” I said, then shook my head. “I’m pretty strong… but this is psychic surgery. It’s beyond me.”
“You must,” Adira insisted as the groggy werewolf tried to break free of his bonds. When he found that he couldn’t, he stared at us, his head wobbling side to side like a bobblehead. Those bright green eyes never wavered.
“Apes,” he slurred. “You will all die painful deaths. Release me.”
He didn’t hit the r’s hard, but he also didn’t speak with Rory’s accent either. The voice which came from the captured wolf was hard and mean. I knew if he got loose, he’d make good on that promise.