Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Monkey Wrench ❯ Hidden Agendas ( Chapter 14 )

Thursday, January 13, 2005

2:50 p.m. EST

Uig's Hunt Farm

 

Rowan was swiftly pacing the length of Dom's office. He was not happy. He'd been helping Theryn and Seth pack up some things in the station wagon for the trip to their parents' house when a messenger had stopped by and handed him a note. The scrap of notebook paper had Gage's skinny black scrawl prominently displayed in the center, it asked for his immediate presence inside. Rowan hadn't a clue what the Alpha could want from him now; he knew Rowan, Theryn, and Seth were scheduled to depart in ten minutes. What could possibly be so important that it couldn't wait until he got back tonight?

 

He figured he'd find out soon since Gage lumbered into Dom's office a few moments later. Dom had been conspicuously absent the past two days, dealing with the aftermath that was now being dubbed “the Lisa incident.” From what Theryn had told him, Lisa was staying at her older brother's house in Maryland until “this whole Snib thing blows over.” Rowan was just happy he wasn't the only one dealing with an irate human female at the moment; in fact, he secretly thought Dom would benefit from the experience.

 

Pulling himself from ruminations on the Uig Pack's wayward Casanova, Rowan crossed his arms and asked Gage why he called for him.

 

Looking much more haggard than usual, the Alpha replied, “I'm afraid there's been a change in plans Rowan, you won't be going to Seaford with Theryn and Seth this afternoon.”

 

Clearly surprised, Rowan balked at this assertion.

 

“Of course I'm going. The only reason we agreed to let them visit is because I would be with them. What's so damn important that I have to be somewhere else?”

 

Gage started cracking his knuckles, one by one. It was one of his telltale habits, common idiosyncrasies Rowan had been trained by Mastema to pick up on; it gave away certain emotions the Alpha was far too unyielding to assert out loud. The knuckle cracking was Gage's “between a rock and a hard place” sign; he was doing something he really didn't want to be doing but had no choice in the matter. Rowan was at a loss as to whom or what could possibly force the Uig Alpha into this position.

 

He didn't have to wait long, because quite suddenly the purple and black swirls of a vortex opening formed in front of the office's portal entry gate. A tall, golden skinned, platinum blonde, delicate looking man dressed in light blue robes descended gracefully to the floor on invisible steps, followed by a short, elderly white haired woman in a red suit. Finally, a silver winged angel clad in white muslin gilded down to the floors in a resounding current of powerful wind. Rowan did a double take as he recognized the Prince of the High Angelic Order himself, Seraphiel. What was he doing here?

 

As Rowan gaped openly at the newcomers, Gage offered a formal bow in greeting to the assembled party. The lithe man in flowing robes introduced himself as “Alden,” and the older woman called herself “Blanche.” Suddenly it all became very clear to Rowan; those two were the President and Vice President of the Inter-Dimensional Portal Council. Alden was an esteemed WWII hero and former King of the Seelie fey. He'd abdicated the throne in 1965 so he could take on more responsibilities with the Council. Rowan's grandmother had spoken of him like a God, not unlike how Americans spoke about George Washington.

 

Blanche was a spry 79 years old and the High Witch of the Coven, the Spell Caster's version of an elected assembly. She, like Alden, had performed dutifully in the war, albeit at the tender age of 15 and afterwards swiftly rose to the top of the Spell Caster ranks. Rowan believed she'd been serving the better part of sixty years at the top of the IDPC.

 

Lastly, there was the archangel Seraphiel. He was not on the IDPC as far as Rowan knew and the Beta Guard was utterly befuddled as to why the leader of the Strata Dimension would make an appearance on Earth now.

 

“Thank you for your cooperation on such short notice Gage, I was worried we were already too late,” Alden remarked in his flowing Irish accent.

 

Rowan watched with narrowed eyes as Gage nodded hurriedly, somewhat uncomfortable with the attention of so many non-Pack members in his domain.

 

“Yes indeed, it is a lovely gesture Mr. Schneider. We can't tell you how much we appreciate your donating his expertise on this endeavor,” Blanche smiled sweetly as she turned toward Rowan, “I must say we all were a bit surprised you agreed to come.”

 

Cutting a `what the hell' look at Gage, Rowan saw his Alpha was not amused. Obviously the IDPC had crashed the party a little early and he apparently hadn't gotten the chance to tell Rowan whatever he'd just agreed to.

 

Seraphiel must have picked up on the growing tension in the room because he fluffed his metallic wings loudly and asked to speak with Rowan out on the veranda, under the guise that Alden, Blanche and Gage had things to discuss. After a quick agreement from all parties involved, Rowan found himself looking up into the face of the leader of the angels for the first time in his life.

 

Rowan had seen the otherworldly features of angels before; they were occasional visitors to Earth and for better or for worse tended to keep out of the affairs of other supernatural beings. If at all, they preferred the company of humans to their fellow Snibs. This was one of the reasons Rowan had been so surprised to hear Seraphiel had contacted Mastema with the news of Darastus' illegal magic siphoning from Gaea. Angels and demons were not the best of friends, for more than just the obvious reasons.

 

Seraphiel was about 6'4” and Rowan was happy at least Gage could look down on him, the angel practically oozed pomposity. Nevertheless, he folded his massive wings back tightly and tried to affect the countenance of a fellow man. The attempt was an effort in futility. His long shoulder length hair was the same shade as Blanche's, a pure snowy white, but he lacked the rosy exuberance of the witch's complexion. His skin was translucent, with almost a blue cast to it, and his eyes were a watery, silver grey, not quite white. If he hadn't known better, Rowan would have thought him blind.

 

“I take it the Uig Alpha has not yet explained why we have come for you?” Seraphiel said in a tone the ancient Greeks might have mistaken for the voice of Zeus.

 

Rowan couldn't help but smile. Seraphiel was all lightening and thunder, booming from an ethereal being with baby fine hair and glistening metallic feathered wings. The dichotomy was interesting but he did not have the time to ponder the odd physical characteristics of angels right now.

 

Nodding his head once Rowan responded, “Seems to be the case. I take it, you can enlighten me in his absence,” and the sentence was not a question in the least.

 

The angel sniffed at Rowan's tone, he was not used to being given orders. Rowan knew he'd have to tread lightly if he wanted to keep the Prince amiable.

 

“Fine, I suppose it's just as well, being as I am the one whom requested your presence,” Seraphiel sighed, “The IDPC is beginning its inquiry on Darastus' recent Gaea jump and subsequent raw magic theft. Unfortunately the Council is littered with a bunch of idiotic politicos whom would rather kowtow to an ancient vampire than sanction him for violating Council law.”

 

Rowan crossed his arms, waiting to see where this would lead.

 

“Alden and Blanche are able leaders but they lack the ability to see things without the veil of political posturing and the biased significance of age. You and I both know Darastus is up to something far more sinister than another research publication in the Magicks Monthly journal. Fortunately, I have some pull in the Council and after speaking with Mastema this morning, I became aware of your more recent personal involvement with the vampire. Simply stated, I want you in charge of this inquiry.”

 

Rowan was again flabbergasted. Seraphiel wanted him to head an IDPC inquiry? Those types of things were done by technical experts in vortex velocity and Dimensional science. Rarely did the Council seek the help of a professionally demon-trained killer to hold the reins of an investigation. What was Seraphiel up to?

 

“I don't think that would be a good idea. Don't you think the Council will know something's up when I can't tell the difference between a gyroscope and a Geiger counter?”

 

The angel's eye's narrowed and his slim patrician nose pinched ever so slightly. So he didn't like being second guessed, did he?

 

“I've already told you, I pulled some strings so you are leading that expedition. I have my own reasons for wanting the naked truth about Darastus' deeds and I believe you are the person whom can deliver what I need.”

 

Rowan was still not persuaded, “I'm afraid you've got the wrong guy…”

 

“Why the hesitance?” the angel interjected, “I would have thought you'd jump at the chance to crucify Darastus, considering what he did to your parents--”

 

“Shut the fuck up Seraphiel!” Rowan barked, as he fought for control of his beast. “You know damn well it wasn't Darastus who killed them; I did the search myself--”

 

“And you never found the killer did you? You still don't know who murdered your mother and father and it eats away at you doesn't it? The mighty Rowan Campbell, famed lupinara Beta Guard of the Uig Americana Pack and he can't even properly avenge his own parents' death. Pathetic,” Seraphiel stated with merely a raise of one perfectly arched eyebrow, like a dove released into flight.

 

Rowan was beyond enraged. How dare this arrogant bastard accuse him of giving up?! He'd never given up! But he knew it hadn't been the obvious, Darastus was no where near the area when it had happened, he'd checked and re-checked a thousand times…but if there was a chance…

 

“Hey Rowan! Ya ready to go?!” Theryn was waving her arms impatiently as she shouted from her perch by the station wagon.

 

Rowan quickly checked to see if Seraphiel was in her line of sight, but then remembered that angels were imperceptible to humans unless they willed themselves visible.

 

“So that's the girl you've marked as your own?” Seraphiel goaded, “Hmmm, I would have thought at least Darastus' interest in her would warrant your attention at the inquiry--”

 

Coming to a decision quickly, Rowan capitulated.

 

“I'll do it.”

 

The corners of Seraphiel's mouth arched ever so slightly. He recognized victory when he saw it.

 

“Good. You leave now.”

 

“Now? Now's not really a good time for me…”

 

“Enough stalling, if you're doing this it has to be now. The portal to Gaea is under heavy guard, the runes have been simultaneously crafted by Alden and Blanche so you must go with them. Your team will follow momentarily.”

 

Rowan and Seraphiel walked back inside, finding Gage and the others engaged in stilted conversation. Good to know Gage wasn't too happy about this arrangement either. His Alpha looked at him questioningly, as if to discern by body language alone if he was really going to go through with it.

 

Alden and Blanche stood up from their seats on the couch and said their goodbyes to Gage. They walked over to the departing gate and opened it, this time in the pink and blue swirled vortex of an exit portal. Seraphiel nodded at Gage and the Council leaders, and then stepped into the wormhole with liquid grace.

 

Rowan looked at Gage, then at the portal, and then at Gage again.

 

“You can't let her go if I'm not there to--”

 

His Alpha shook his head slowly, “I have to let her go Rowan, and Seth too. Their parents are expecting them. Don't worry, I'll send Frederick and Alistair along. I'm sure they'll be fine and they'll be back by tonight safe and sound.”

 

Rowan was not appeased by this at all. Frederick and Alistair were good guys and he knew they'd protect Theryn ably, plus Seth was a lupinara too and if anything bad happened, it might trigger his first transformation and that could be just as deadly. Nothing he could do about it now but put his faith in his guards. He'd trained them himself, so there was nothing to worry about…right now.

 

Steeling himself for the trip to IDPC headquarters in London, Rowan gave one last lingering look out the patio doors. He wasn't exactly sure what made him do this. If it was Seraphiel's incessant instigations, his ever present drive for vengeance or even this baffling and insistent need to keep Theryn safe, it didn't matter now.

 

He had to figure out what Darastus and Nikolai were up to, before it was too late. His gut told him they were running out of time, so he was grateful for one thing at least, the Gaea dimension's frozen time. If all went well, he'd be back before sunset, and he'd have only lost a few hours. It was all a very small price to pay for vengeance, especially when he would have given his life.

 

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4:00 p.m. EST

Milford, DE

Nikolai's House

 

Nikolai stood in the parlor with Calvin, Eugene and James and watched as the Angel Prince left through the whirling portal. He could scarcely believe that all was going according to plan. Darastus had told him to expect Seraphiel around this time and that after he had confirmed their plan; the mages were to continue with the locator spell.

 

The werelynx pride was sequestered upstairs in his attic, awaiting their orders to move out to wherever Seth Thompson now stood. Thanks to Meghan's tenacious gossiping, they had found out the family was to be together tonight and where Seth was, the girl was to be as well.

 

Thirty minutes later, his mage friends came up from the basement. They were smiling. It must be good news.

 

“We have a lock on the Thompson boy, Nikolai. Plus, he hasn't moved from the immediate vicinity in over fifteen minutes, so he must be home,” James stated excitedly.

 

“I'll go get the werelynx, we should debrief them on how to use the spell,” Calvin added.

 

Nikolai was left with Eugene as James joined Calvin up the stairs. Eugene was the most reserved of his three mage friends and often times picked up on his anxieties more so than the others.

 

“It's okay Nikolai. Breathe. We won't fail now, not when we have Darastus on our side.”

 

The lupinara was not so sure he'd readily agree with that assessment but he had to admit the inclusion of the vampire mage had opened up an entirely different solution for him. If it hadn't been for Darastus' ideas and assistance, he would have given up after his last failure with the Thompson boy's blood.

 

This time would be different. He could literally taste his freedom. Just a few more steps and he'd accomplish what no other doubled fanged lupinara had accomplished in the history of his species, rational survival. He would make it to the prime of his life with his sanity intact, and that would make him nearly invincible.

 

“Yes, Eugene, I believe it just might work this time. All the pieces are finally falling into place, and not a moment too soon.”

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6:00 p.m. EST

Seaford, DE

The Thompson House

 

Wow. Who'd a thought Bruno and Vinnie were really named Frederick and Alistair? Just goes to show once again how your parents can screw you up for life with something as little as your first name. Poor Fred and Al, they were doomed to walk this Earth looking like the dynamic duo of thug society, only to be given the names of landed British gentry. Well hell, who was I to talk? I had a name nobody could pronounce at first without spitting on me a couple of times.

 

Turns out Rowan didn't get to come along and I wasn't sure how I felt about that. I'd gotten rather use to him being around and ever since we'd made our truce, things had been going okay. You know, that whole trust speech was kind of embarrassing now that I looked back on it, but it was the truth and it was too late to take it back now anyway. Plus, because of it, Rowan and I were getting along much better. Well, that was until he told me he was in on Lisa's attempted “mind erasing.” That had gone over like a lead balloon.

 

Finally, Lisa talked me out of booby trapping Rowan's pants zippers in retaliation and we both just decided to let Lisa take her revenge out on Dom. I bet she'd come up with something even better than lining his boxer fly's with sewn in thumb tacks anyway.

 

So here we were at my parents' house, all one big happy semi-furred family. Mom and Dad treated Seth like he'd single handedly just recovered from a terminal illness. My brother conveniently glossed over the part where my blood saved his sorry ass from permanent flea treatments but you know I let that one slide.

 

Dinner was over and we were all just sitting in the kitchen with our coffee and a giant ice cream cake in celebration of Seth's “survival.” Geeze people, it wasn't like he'd been stranded at sea for a week with nothing but his own baggy pants for a flotation device only to be rescued by a friendly dolphin pod. Oh well, let Seth have this night. He was going to be turning all fanged and clawed later on, might as well have a cake with “Congratulations Teen Wolf!” written on it in blue icing. Can you see where I get my sense of humor?

 

I looked past Fred and Al, as they were devouring their fourth piece of cake, and saw my parents' 100 lb. Great Dane Barnaby giving me “the look.” It was the look that said he wanted to go outside and since I had my fill of hearing my parents extol the virtues of supernatural hearing one too many times already, I volunteered to take him out.

 

As I was pulling on Barnaby's leash I heard Fred say he'd come with me. Of course, how silly of me to think even chocolate almond fudge supreme would hold him back from guard duty. So it was with Fred in tow that I headed out toward Barnaby's favorite pit stop, the ditch behind the pond on the other side of the farm.

 

The Great Dane was infamous for sniffing around over a dozen different spots before he'd finally go pee. I'd always wondered what could make an otherwise basically simple animal forgo the natural urging to urinate and take ten minutes to pick a suitable tree. It seemed to go against nature, all that smelling and digging, especially when he'd finally release the equivalent of the Hoover Dam out of his bladder.

 

I was feeling sort of frisky and aside from eating, Fred wasn't all that much into communicating with his mouth. He liked to grunt and point mostly, sort of a polyglot of bodyguard shorthand and caveman diplomacy. Barnaby was still sniffing around the pine trees so I thought I'd engage Fred in a short conversation, maybe see if I could scratch that bodyguard veneer at little bit. Oh, this was going to be fun.

 

“Hey Fred! Ya mind if I call ya Fred? Frederick's just too stuffy for me. I was just wondering if you could answer a question for me.” I called out into the darkness.

 

I heard crunching noises and saw the hulking mass that was Fred form on my left.

 

“What?” he replied, somewhat stiffly.

 

“Well, I figured sense you know, you're a werewolf and all… maybe you could answer a question I've always wanted to ask Barnaby here but couldn't `cause I was never able to get my hands on a secret dog decoder ring.”

 

Fred looked at me funny, then I saw the wheels turning and he cracked a tight smile. Maybe he had gotten my sarcasm? Will wonders never cease?

 

“Sure,” he answered.

 

“How come he,” as I pointed to Barnaby's power vacuum nose, “takes ten years to sniff out a pee spot when it's obvious he has to go so badly? I mean, do you guys do the same thing when you're wolves? What's up with that?”

 

I think I insulted him. I hadn't been trying to, I'd really wanted to know, but Fred looked major league affronted.

 

The bodyguard's face became a mask of stillness and he stated, “I don't know.” Then he briskly walked away, toward the other side of the half-acre pond. Yikes, sorry dude. No need to take things so personally, I would have asked Rowan if he'd been around but Gage had said he was on `business,' whatever that was supposed to mean.

 

Suddenly, Barnaby's hackles rose up and he whirled around, barking in the direction Fred had headed. I turned around only to see Fred swarmed by at least ten really big cats. At least that's what I thought they were in the limited moonlight. I quickly released Barnaby from his leash to see if he could help Fred, but two more came out of the woods and attacked him from the sides.

 

Panicking, I grabbed a heavy four foot long stick and ran toward Fred, thinking that I could possibly beat the cats off of him, and give him some room to maneuver; he could change and take care of these wild bobcats.

 

I don't know why I didn't automatically assume the cats were Weres. Why else would there be so many of them and in an area that hadn't seen a cat bigger than an overfed tabby in three hundred years? I know when it suddenly dawned on me. It was right as I was rounding the pond's curve to go to Fred's aid, pointy stick brandished out in front, when arms like steel vises clamped around me and I thought my rib cage was crushed.

 

The stick fell to the frost bitten ground and I was thrown up against the chafing bark of a massive maple tree. The eyes staring down at me were a pale greenish-yellow, with black slit pupils. The mouth was pulled back in a snarl and I could see long sharp fangs, both upper and lower in menacing detail. I felt a furred appendage curl around both of my jeans clad calves and forced myself to look down at a golden yellow tail. It had wrapped my legs in a velvet embrace and I was quite immobile. I could barely breathe I was being shoved so tightly up against the tree.

 

My captor decided now was a good time to speak.

“If you come quietly, your friend over there doesn't have to die,” the Were informed, all business and baritone.

 

I didn't even hesitate, which shows you just how intelligent I am under stressful situations, and that is, not very.

 

Nodding quickly, I answered, “Okay, just don't kill him,” and I added hopefully, “or my dog.”

 

The Were seemed to find this hilarious, laughing uproariously at my addendum.

 

“Fine, fine, and your little dog too.”

 

With that, he whistled loudly between his teeth and I saw eight of the cats get off Fred, plus the two that were harassing Barnaby. They all transformed back to human form, and I averted my eyes as I realized they were naked. Damn, my modesty has to pop up at the most inopportune of times. And what the hell is up with this constant kidnap-age? I'm starting to feel like Patty Hearst here, this is getting ridiculous.

 

Fred still had two other cats growling at him. I got a better look at them and saw the tufts of fur coming out of their ears. These guys were lynx? Werelynx?

 

The Were fondling my ankle with his tail spoke again, “The other two will wait until we are gone, then they'll follow us. We'll be far outside of werewolf senses when that happens. Let's go.”

 

And with that I was hoisted over his shoulder, legs still trapped in a furred coil. He ran through the woods at such a dizzying speed I couldn't even tell where one tree began and the other one ended. After five minutes he finally stopped at a white cargo van. Oh no, not a molester van. You know the ones that Oprah always tells you not to park next to because there's always some weirdo lurking inside with a roll of duct tape and chloroformed rag waiting to kidnap you. Yeah well, here ya go, turns out Oprah wasn't kidding.

 

The Were threw open the van doors and flung me inside like I was a sack of potatoes. I hit the metal floor with a thud and quickly scrambled up on all fours. Apparently I was not to arrive unharmed, that's such a relief. Eight of the werelynx in human form joined me in the van, another two going up front to sit with tail boy. This was so not good.

 

Here I was getting kidnapped, yet again, and the only thing I could think about was how to avoid touching any of the naked people. How's that for screwed up priorities?

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The Gaea Dimension

Ten minutes after Portal Entry

(6:00 p.m. EST in the Earth Dimension)

 

Rowan had just finished talking with Martin the Geological expert and was heading toward his meeting with Helena the Magic Collection expert and if he had to consult with any more experts today he was going to pull his hair out. The only thing any of them could agree upon was that it was a terrible atrocity that such a pristine and undiluted dimension had been violated.

 

After coming to that profound conclusion, the “team” the IDPC had provided him with was really just a bunch of opportunistic scholars taking advantage of this endeavor for doctoral dissertations when they got back home. All of them had heard of Darastus, but much to Rowan's chagrin, only in the academic holy light of a mage scholar, not as the ambitious power hungry ancient menace that Rowan knew him as.

 

His job was to discover the what, where, when and why of the matter, since they already knew the who. What type of raw Earth magic had Darastus been focusing on, where was he on the planet, when did it happen in Earth Dimension's time and most of all, why had he done it? If nothing else could be accomplished, the why would be enough for Rowan.

 

He now saw why Seraphiel had been so adamant about his heading this inquiry, the experts where so scatterbrained and technical that nothing cohesive was getting done. Nevertheless, this was what he had to work with and he was grateful for the time freeze yet again.

 

As he was loping up the hill toward Helena's tent, he was flagged down by Edgar, the German Di-Chrono expert and most interestingly a fellow lupinara. There were not many Weres in the scholarly fields; most were populated by Spell Casters and a few fey. Rowan had been glad to see a werewolf on his team; and had felt more than a little bit of species pride to find out he was the foremost expert in his field of Dimensional Chrono-Physics.

 

Veering off to the right to acknowledge Edgar's call, Rowan trudged onward, finally meeting up with the German at a hilly plateau.

 

“What can I do for you, Edgar?”

 

“I wanted to bring something to your attention that might have dire consequences for us when we get back home.”

 

Rowan's eyebrows shot up, “That's a hell of a word to use when we're stuck in this dimension until Alden brings back the departure gate at 23:00.”

 

Edgar stoically nodded, “That is the crux of the problem Rowan. Our pre-set Estimated Time of Departure is working against us now.”

 

Rowan was getting panicked, what was this guy talking about?

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“I think I know at least what Darastus did with the raw Earth magic while he was here.”

 

“Okay, shoot.”

 

“He reversed the chrono displacement of the dimension to run opposite that of Earth's dimension. See this instrument here; it keeps track of the Gaea timeline, which technically doesn't exist since it's a frozen dimension. This companion piece keeps track of the Earth's timeline. Ordinarily, the Gaea timepiece stays frozen while Earth's keeps going forward, which is why we can spend near infinite amounts of time in this dimension and still miss practically nothing on Earth time.”

 

Rowan wasn't sure he was following, “So what you're saying is Darastus reversed this? So Earth's frozen and Gaea's not?”

 

“No not quite. Gaea is still frozen; nobody can change its dimensional chronosphere, even someone as powerful as Darastus. But, he could speed up the relative Earth Dimension's chronosphere so that Earth's time now eclipses Gaea's. Essentially, what Darastus did was make it so that an hour passed here is like a month passed on Earth.”

 

Rowan's face fell; the shock hit him like a belly full of bricks.

 

“Edgar, let me see if I get this straight. You're saying, with no doubt in your mind, that when Alden opens up our departure gate in eight hours, and we go into the exit portal, eight months will have passed on Earth?”

 

Edgar swallowed audibly, “Yes.”