Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Monkey Wrench ❯ Secrets Wrapped in Blood ( Chapter 7 )

Sunday, January 9th, 2005

11:00 p.m. EST

Elijah's Island, DE

Uig's Hunt Farm

 

Dear Diary,

 

Whew, it's finally done! I just finished stealing that stupid kid's blood from the lab for the Boss man, he just better appreciate all this! Thank goodness Lorrie's such a gossip and had tipped me off about Gage wanting to do Seth's physical tonight. If I hadn't known she takes so long making her late night cup of tea, I would never have made it out of there before lockdown.

 

I think I'm turning into a really good spy! Maybe I should think up some kind of code name or something? Whatever.

 

Boss told me I'm supposed to head over to his house tomorrow morning with the blood vials without anyone seeing me, like that's gonna be easy. I wonder what he wants Seth's blood for? I wish I didn't have to pretend to be the new kid's friend just so I can learn all about his boring life for the Boss. What do I care about his stupid family?

 

Oh well, I'll do whatever I have to, as long as I get my love spell! It'll be perfect, me and HIM, just like it was meant to be. Crystal made some catty remark about how he's old enough to be my dad, yeah right. Okay, so it's possible to father children at 14, but I know Crystal's just jealous of me, I'm used to it.

 

I better go to bed now Diary, I have to get up early tomorrow so I don't tip off those retarded perimeter guards. It won't be long now…

 

Loves and Hugs,

 

MKS and ROC: 2Gether 4Eva

 

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11:30 p.m. EST

Wilmington, DE

Theryn's Apartment

 

I was lying in my bed thumbing through what was quite possibly the most interesting book I had read in the past five years. The Modern World of Lycanthropy was chock full of all sorts of weirdo information, I found myself sucked into yet another hour of this highly engrossing read.

 

Before my brother's foray into the world of werewolves, I had never been much for learning about Snibs. Granted, there was the occasional reading assignment for history class, but beyond that, my understanding of the supernatural was just about on par with my understanding of automobiles. That is, I knew they existed; but not really now they worked, just that they did and that was good enough for me.

 

Unfortunately, I was now directly related to one of them, a Snib that is, and now that I had been pulled into their foreign and complicated world of customs and caste systems, I needed to bone up on the subject. Pun most definitely intended.

 

I was blown away by the chapter on caste. Seems werewolves missed the entire politically correct movement, what with the public school equivalent of freshmen year classes solely devoted to where one stands in the pack in relation to others and how to conduct ones self accordingly.

 

Also, I learned what a Beta Guard was, it looked like Rowan was the Pack's chief protector, enforcer, guardian, watch wolf, bouncer, the list went on and on. Okay, so there wasn't exactly a precedent for “loaning” a BG out to guard a human, but how was I supposed to know? At least now, he couldn't accuse me of being ignorant, just ungrateful.

 

The units on proper etiquette made me laugh so hard, I was surprised Rowan didn't come bursting into my bedroom looking for a would-be assassin; death by giggling was indeed under reported. Thankfully, he was so concentrated on maintaining a perfect breathing position on “The Iron Maiden” that my amusement went undetected.

 

I was currently finishing what had proved to be the most fascinating chapter of all, the mating chapter. Apparently werewolves operated on an entirely different level from humans. While I had always assumed Weres were essentially humans that periodically turned into animals, this chapter was setting me straight.

 

The book explained that werewolves happened to be the species of Were most beholden to their animal instincts. Additionally noting the second most affected species being the multitude of werecat varieties; with the least affected being the werebirds.

 

Furthermore, because of the werewolves' instinctual programming taking over, mating became something akin to a human arranged marriage, with their instincts acting as the resolute matchmaker.

 

Yikes! This kind of blatant disregard for a werewolf's personal feelings on the matter must have made for a whole lot of morning walks of shame. Note to self: Predatory instincts plus the short end of the mating stick equals a nasty proliferation of species wide beer goggles.

 

It amused me to no end that these supernatural beings, who fancied themselves so superior to humans, chose their other half based on the urgings of a renegade Chuck Woolery instinct. Wow, and I thought I was unlucky in the romance department.

 

At least I got to choose on a rational level what kind of guys I was attracted to, I was very glad to be human right now. My luck, if I was a werewolf, I'd be hopelessly lusting after the local midget NASCAR-enthusiast.

 

What was even weirder about this whole mating thing, was that once a werewolf had “honed in” the object of his libidos affection, he went about performing all sorts of markings (both physical and mystical) and other types of sensory recordings.

 

There was the ubiquitous generic physical mark of one's mate, similar to the purpose of wedding band, which told other Weres “hey, this one's taken.”

 

However, later on in the chapter, it discussed other marks, ones more personal than the “wedding band” mark previously described. These were much more individual, with brands of family clan insignias and blood rites involving fey magic, almost all of them for the female to wear. Now I'm not a card carrying feminist but none of it sounded too cool to me. This stuff smacked of the werewolves' penchant for the possessive and domineering.

 

I couldn't blame the werewolves for taking after Neanderthals though, it was just the way they were, and I had to remind myself that for once, I couldn't judge them by human standards. This was their culture and if that included clubbing their women over the head and dragging her back to the cave den by her hair, then so be it. What did I care anyway, wasn't like I had to deal with it.

 

I was just about ready to close the book and get some sleep when the next chapter heading caught my eye. The title was, Permanent Scent Imprinting: the Ultimate Tracking Tool. Looking at that, I cursed loudly, I just knew this next passage would explain quite nicely how I and my escape plan were going to be done in by Rowan's nose, a.k.a. the black hole of doom.

 

Reading carefully through the page I saw something that really freaked me out, “A permanent scent imprint is the last resort for a lupinara when he needs to track. This is a method of eternally imprinting the scent of another, so as to be able to track them anywhere in the world.”

 

I just knew that stupid Rowan had done this to me, now I was shit out of luck. Of course he could sniff me out to the ends of the Earth now. But I wasn't giving up; maybe there was a catch, something I could do to thwart its super smeller mojo.

 

Looking at the last few sentences, praying for a miracle, I read, “You should be aware that a permanent scent imprint is usually reserved for ones mate and/or children. The psychological strain of retaining a scent to this extreme should not be attempted on anyone else. The price for this most powerful of markings is not meant to be used by the majority of werewolves. Warning: Only the strongest among us can handle this type of imprinting. Consequently, this marking is not recommended for anyone except Alpha lupinaras.”

 

That's some crazy shit, but the awesome thing about it? There was no way Rowan had pulled this imprinting crap on me, so I was in the clear. How did I know this?

 

First, this smell-o-riffic homing device was reserved for a mate and/or kids, and I was no where close to either category. Second, the wolf curled up in the fetal position on my Lilliputian-esque sofa was NOT an Alpha lupinara. I knew for a fact that Gage was the Uig Pack's alpha; I had found that out the hard way.

 

Smiling slyly to myself, I dog-eared my place in the book and set it on my nightstand. I pulled up my covers, reached out to turn off the nearby lamp, and rolled over onto my stomach. I fell asleep content in the knowledge that I was safe from any “ends of the Earth” tracking by Rowan and that by this time tomorrow I would be on my own once again, just the way I liked it.

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Monday, January 10th, 2005

10:00 a.m. EST

Milford, DE

 

Nikolai stood in the darkened recesses of the basement, watching as Eugene, Calvin and James flitted around a multitude of magical implements, referring back to the open text of the Caeleph resting on the dais.

 

He had awakened in an anxious and excitable state, which was most unlike him. Much earlier this morning, he had met his Uig contact in the great room, checking her for any signs of sabotage.

 

Not that he had been too worried about that possibility, the girl was so desperate for a love spell she had betrayed her own pack, he was not concerned about her loyalty as long as he held the spell over her head.

 

After retrieving the precious stolen blood from her and handing her the spell with the careful warning that it would not be activated until AFTER he had accomplished his intended goals, Nikolai hurriedly sent his mages into motion.

 

Any moment now they would be ready to initiate the ancient ritual, following the old werewolves' directives to his freedom from oblivion. Interestingly, the Caeleph's text had not mentioned any time constraints or sacrifices; this had bothered his mage friends, for they would have expected such specifics in of a ritual of this nature.

 

Nikolai himself thought it odd but was confident nonetheless. Perhaps the ancients were not bound by such limitations, or more likely, the converted druid blood, laced with its human/fey restorative properties, did not need any additional help.

 

A call from Eugene broke his ruminations, “Nikolai, we're ready.”

 

The Russian werewolf solemnly nodded to his friends and walked up to the dais. There were no words spoken, for they all knew just what was riding on the success of this ritual. Years of painstaking research and scouting had literally boiled down to this moment and he found himself speechless in its wake.

 

Taking the golden chalice from Calvin, for the spell's one warning had indicated the transformed druid blood be held in a pure elemental vessel, Nikolai stared into its viscous depths, knowing its secrets would unlock his cage of agony.

 

Eugene, Calvin, and James began chanting the recorded binding spell in a melodic language completely foreign to Nikolai. They could have been reciting a medieval phone book for all he knew.

 

At the signal from James, Nikolai threw his head back, and slowly swallowed every drop of the mouth wateringly delicious liquid; this was yet another reminder that he much closer to turning completely into a wolf then even he had anticipated.

 

The mages stepped back, watching as he licked his lips, still chanting the spell for some time afterward, waiting for the unconscious collapse of their friend. According to the text, he should awake within seven hours, cured of his disease and without fear for the first time in years.

 

As Nikolai fell onto the carefully placed feather bed, his last conscious thought was of triumph, satisfaction, and relief.

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Seven hours later

5:10 p.m. EST

Milford, DE

 

Nikolai awoke in a clouded mental haze to the stares of his closest friends. They were smiling and congratulating him on a job well done, already dreaming of unlocking the ancient magicks for themselves with the help of his blood.

 

It was the understatement of the century to say that the mages were not the least bit prepared for Nikolai's reaction upon waking. The double fanged werewolf tore from his slumber in a ferocious frenzy, ready to tear each of them limb from limb.

 

It was only Calvin's quick thinking that saved them from this fate with a hastily uttered defense spell. The mages watched in horror as their formally polite and civilized friend transformed into a raging man beast, then screamed in panic as he changed yet again into a colossal vicious wolf the size of an SUV.

 

Saliva dripped from his famed twin fangs, while a deep, menacing growl reverberated through the basement in a death knell of imminent terror. It was the single most frightening thing any of them had ever seen, and they were sure of only one thing.

 

Obviously, the spell had not worked, if anything, it had sped up the process, quite possibly making Nikolai's current incarnation a permanent one. Watching as the enraged wolf snapped and swiped at the spell's invisible barrier, Calvin put everything he had into their only protection against a brutally horrific death.

 

The mages knew two things had to be done and in the following order. Get away from Nikolai and survive to do the second task, which was to seek help from the one person they had never wanted to meet, the mage syndicate's master warlock and oldest living vampire in the world, Darastus.

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Two hours later

7:00 p.m. EST

Milford, DE

 

Darastus sat in the basement, watching as the werewolves' legendary double fanged menace came back to his senses. He had not been too surprised when the mages had called him in a morbidly panicked state; seeking assistance for a spell he knew damn well would never have worked.

 

Eugene, Calvin and James, while indeed gifted mages, could not possibly have known the recorded writings they had so stringently followed in the Caeleph, were nothing more than a dying race's last ditch attempt at saving future generations, via a revisionist spell book.

 

The mages had explained to him Nikolai's situation, how he had fallen victim to his ancestors' fate, his discovery of the Caeleph, the tracking of the appropriate bloodline, finally, the successful transformation of the Thompson boy, and now Nikolai's subsequent post-spell berserker blow up.

 

He studied Nikolai as Eugene explained his presence to the ailing werewolf, noting the Russian's defeated attitude was a far cry from his earlier killing rage. Indeed, the druids of the past millennium had planned well. Had Nikolai attempted this spell not one week later, he would have been in for a lupinara lifetime of pissing on tree stumps and licking his own ass.

 

Not that Darastus had anything against Weres in general; in fact he was currently quite interested in one specific type of werewolf on a scholarly level. Yet, he couldn't shake the notion that they were all just a little less civilized than the noble ranks of the vampires. While he was something of an anomaly, a vampire interested in magic, who cavorted amongst mages and conjurers, his over 1,000 years of age and power kept him from his own race's notoriously harsh ostracism.

 

Taking careful note of the desperation apparent in Nikolai's eyes, Darastus knew he had just been handed the perfect opportunity to indulge in his latest scholarly endeavor, on a silver platter no less.

 

He had been paying cautious attention when the mages mentioned the discovery of the Thompson family, perking up considerably at the mention of the boy's sister and also noting that the boy's blood had reacted to the spell exactly as the ancient druids had intended. Thus, it was almost guaranteed that Nikolai had stumbled upon quite possibly the last druid bloodline of any significance left in the world.

 

Darastus knew from his own findings, and this had been confirmed by the mages' search, most of the existing druid bloodlines did not harbor enough fey magic in them, usually from a proliferation of the family's later human marriages.

 

It was common believed that many druids found it hard to reconcile their sometimes prejudicial human family, with their often times elitist fey family and because of this; they slowly started avoiding fey marriages.

 

Luckily, it seemed the heavily fey blooded druid males in the Thompson family, were not so discouraged, and apparently continued to marry fey women, right up until the late 1800's.

 

As for Darastus' own plans, Nikolai's scouting of a rare find like the Thompson clan would be most beneficial indeed. The fey blood would be particularly strong in them, and knowing of only one other missed opportunity in his recent search, Darastus greatly anticipated what his studies would reveal.

 

Nikolai quietly asked the mages to leave so he could speak with him. As the basement door was closed, and the room left in twilight of various candles and lanterns, Darastus prepared to set his plans into motion.

 

“Hello Nikolai, I'm very sorry to have met you under this most harrowing of conditions, but I do believe, with the information your friends have told me, that I will be able to help you.”

 

The Russian narrowed his eyes at him, clearly needing much more convincing than a simple pat on the back. Maybe he had misjudged him, Darastus was counting on the other mans hopeless countenance in order to achieve his goal.

 

“What is it you have to offer me? I have already tried my last resort.” Nikolai asked.

 

“Your friends have told you of my age, and thus I know much about the Caeleph's true message and while its diversionary tactics have led you intentionally astray, you're not all that far off from the truth.”

 

“What do you mean `diversionary?' It's obvious the spell failed, what did we miss?”

 

Darastus hefted the heavy Irish tome and looked at Nikolai, “This spell book is nothing but a clever red herring, written by the very ancient druids the original spells had targeted. After so many years of persecution by the lupinara, the druids knew they had to protect future generations and found a way to fight back. I think it's worked quite well, don't you?”

 

“Are you saying what I think you're saying,” Nikolai ventured.

 

“Yes, that is if you're wondering as to the veracity of a REAL spell for curing your form of lycanthropy, you are indeed correct, and you are already half way there.”

 

Darastus smiled inwardly at the suddenly determined look on Nikolai's face. Yes, there's the bait, now to reel him in.

 

“The true spell for curing a lupinara on the cusp of the feral path requires the same druid blood you have already found. Except, in this case, the human must remain human, most certainly NOT turned into a lupinara. This was where the old druids led you astray; it was a protective measure you see. As werewolves, a former druid could fight back and were of no use to the lupinaras seeking a cure.”

 

Questioning slyly, Darastus queried, “Unfortunately it seems your Thompson boy is now ruined for this spell, is there anyone left for you to use?”

 

“Yes,” Nikolai answered quickly, “His father or his sister.”

 

“Oh splendid, how old is the sister?”

 

“Recently turned 24, why do you ask?”

 

Oh this was too perfect. “You'll see in a moment. Anyway, the spell utilizes much more than blood alone, it is the human heartbeat that must be harnessed for your own.”

 

“What does that entail?” Nikolai asked.

 

“A fusion spell, (that is no longer known to human mages) which is slightly stronger than a mere binding ritual, is done between the lupinara and the fey blooded human. It creates a life long link between your bodies and while your life span is shortened to match the human's, you will retain your ability to change into wolf form, only now without the threat of losing your humanity. You see now why I asked about the girl's age.”

 

“I see now, her life span is longer. What's the catch, Darastus?”

 

“Only that the human is more vulnerable to attack, thus as the double fanged lupinara before you, you'll have to keep her protected, a gilded cage if you will. Obviously you don't want her getting hit by a car, or something equally fatal.”

 

“That sounds easy enough, but unless I want to live another five years tops with her father's ailing heart, she's my only option.”

 

Darastus concurred. “Yes, I would focus my attentions on her. I have a nearby army of elite vampires, based out of Sussex County, whom are loyal to me. Just give the word and I can have them at her door in a few hours.”

 

“No, she's being guarded by the Uig Pack's Beta Guard, Rowan, and according to information retrieved from her brother by my Uig contact; she's going to be at a party tonight.”

 

Darastus tried to hide his delight at this latest development. “Where is your contact, I would like to speak with her, see if I can get some more information?”

 

“She's staying at the house overnight, waiting for her love spell reward to activate I bet. I'll send for her.”

 

“Excellent, I think we can use her at the girl's party tonight. I'll make a potion that will assist you in the fusion. We can't wait on this, you're not getting any better and the longer we hold out the less time we have.”

 

“Yes, that is true. I must tell you, I'm not thrilled about my life being shortened or that I'm vulnerable to attack on two fronts, but it's the best option I have right now. We have to keep this little arrangement a secret, anyone who is out to get me, will try to kill me through her,” Nikolai stated.

 

Looking at Darastus critically, Nikolai abruptly asked, “Why are you helping me? You're the only one who can perform the fusion spell. But there's nothing in this for you, unless you want my blood for some reason, although now that the Caeleph's spells are obviously fake, I don't know why you'd need it.”

 

“I have a great interest in something you can offer me, once you have the girl's heartbeat fused to yours and she's in your custody.”

 

Nikolai looked simultaneously very suspicious and relieved at that statement. It seemed as long as Darastus wanted something from him, he was trustworthy, “What do you want?”

 

Motioning for Nikolai to take a seat next to him, he spoke very softly, aware that walls often had ears in places like this. This is where he revealed part of his plan, though carefully crafting it so as to manipulate the desperate wolf into just the right direction, without making his intentions known. He held out bait so enticing, he could practically see the wolf's determination grow claws.

 

When he was done, Nikolai stood with renewed vigor. Darastus knew the information he'd just told him would be more than enough incentive to set the werewolf into action.

 

Nikolai left to retrieve the Uig contact, leaving him alone momentarily.

 

He had actually been surprised as to how well the werewolf took the caveat in his instructions, but he was aware that Nikolai would most likely change his tune once all was said and done.

 

No matter, Darastus would get what he wanted at very little inconvenience to himself; he'd deal with Nikolai if he had any latent stirrings of conscious.

 

The door opened as Nikolai ushered in his pouting teenaged contact. The girl looked like she'd been crying for a few hours. She stilled as she entered the room, throwing herself back onto Nikolai in fear.

 

“What's he doing here?!” she screeched.

 

“He's helping me and therefore helping you to get that love spell you so desperately want,” Nikolai admonished.

 

Screwing her overly tanned face up like she'd come across a trigger happy skunk, the girl reluctantly took a seat across from Darastus.

 

“Hello child, I know you probably don't like dealing with vampires, but my name is Darastus and I'm trying to help Nikolai.”

 

“Hi, I'm Meghan. Yeah, Boss told me you like, wanted me to like, go to that party in Wilmington I told him about?” she questioned, voice lilting up at the end.

 

This time Darastus found himself looking as if he'd found the skunk, bloody hell, didn't the Wolves teach proper English diction? Her self-introduction should not have been stated in the form of a question.

 

“Yes, as a matter of fact I do, although I believe it would be best if you'd affect a disguise, so as not to be recognized, by sight at least. Do you recall meeting Seth Thompson's older sister, Theryn, when she was at Uig's Hunt?”

 

“Yeah, I met her. Thank goodness I like, smelled her when I was in wolf form or like, I wouldn't have recognized her as his sister. They don't look anything alike,” Meghan replied.

 

Darastus sighed, “Fine, so you know what she looks like. I'm going to make a potion; it will smell strongly of wildflowers, pass it off as a perfume. I want you to `accidentally' spill this on Theryn at the party. Make sure you get it on her skin, potion-wet clothes don't do us any good.”

 

As Meghan nodded her understanding, Nikolai interjected, “Are you sure this will work,” looking at Meghan pointedly, obviously doubting her ability to carry out such an important mission, “If not, we may not be able to do this…”

 

“I assure you this will work; we don't need the entire contents to be absorbed, just a few drops. I'm merely making more than we need as a contingency, if Theryn ends up bathing in it, all the better,” Darastus confirmed.

 

“Also, I'll be sure to put a scent masking spell on Meghan, so Rowan doesn't sniff her out before she has a chance to spill the potion on Theryn.”

 

Darastus turned to Meghan, “Nevertheless, I wouldn't recommend staying out in the open. Find an enclosed space and lie in wait for your opportunity, okay? Once everything is all settled, I promise you an even stronger love spell than the one you have now.”

 

Correctly interpreting her widened eyes, he added, “Perhaps, I'll throw a lust potion in for you as well?”

 

At Meghan's enthusiastic nod, Nikolai offered some last minute instructions and gave the go ahead for Darastus to call his vampires, the kidnapping would happen tonight.

 

Only a half hour later, Darastus handed the light amber potion to a newly scent-masked, red wigged and tastefully dressed Meghan, the change from doublewide to debutante was astounding.

 

The sparkly liquid was encased in a glass bottle reminiscent of Chanel No. 5. This potion would serve two purposes, it would kick start the girl's considerable fey blood into action and in doing so, conveniently counteract any sort of prescription drugs she was taking so as not interfere with the fusion spell.

 

Here, he found himself placing the most critical step in his plans in the hands of a lovelorn teenaged werewolf, not a foolproof plan to say the least.

 

He made sure to save roughly a quarter of the potion, to be handed to his division of vampires, with instructions to make sure Theryn was liberally doused in its fey catalyst properties. He was taking no chances this time around.